by Tom Keller
"That's silly, Robert," Jake replied, shaking his head. "I already know what needs to be done to accomplish that. These bikes are made to be modified. There're thousands of aftermarket parts manufactured to upgrade these machines into a variety of different configurations. You don’t need to hire me to do something like that. There are a ton of companies that sell all the parts needed, install them too."
"Call me old fashioned," I said. "But I like to do things like this on a more personal level than most folks. Plus, your report will tell me a bit about the way you think. Like I said before, my company has a small transportation division and I could use a competent mechanic. Which is something I don’t have at the moment. I've got a few folks on loan, but they're only available part time. I'm talking a contract basis, of course. Besides, I still need to get it home. This way we both get what we want."
"Excuse me, Mr. Robert," Breej chimed in. "But why would you do that? You don’t even know if Jake's truly a certified mechanic, or if he's any good? How can you trust us with your machine?"
"Not true, ma'am," I replied, holding up the screen on my phone to a web page. "Unless I'm mistaken, you two are the owners of Jake's Mobile Repair. According to the records I checked, you've got a valid corporation and quite a few positive reviews on more than just one site. Besides, for the moment, all I'm asking you to do is to have fun and then transport my machine back to Vegas. Your business is valid, so that shouldn’t be a problem. As for letting you ride it? I'm not going to be using it for the next few days anyway, and… you break it, you fix it. Worse case is I file an insurance claim. Like I said, win-win."
"And what about you, Mr. Robert?" she asked, her eyes twinkling again in the firelight. "How do we know who you really are, or what you do?"
"Here," I said, pulling out my wallet and handing her two business cards.
"This card just has your name and number on it," Breej remarked, holding it up.
"That's right," I replied. "Feel free to look up my name. But you won’t find that number on the Internet. That one's private. I don’t give it out to just anyone. But it's the second card that's important. Mr. Cornwall is a well-known attorney in Vegas. As a matter of fact, he has a cabin up here and has done quite a bit of business with Ed in town. You can call his office tomorrow and they'll verify that I'm who I say am, and that I'm legit."
"He's being honest, hon," Jake said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I asked Ed about him back at the store. He didn't know much about Mr. Hoskins, but he had a lot to say about that Mr. Cornwall. He's the real deal."
She stared into the fire for a moment, then turned back to me.
"Okay, Mr. Robert," she said. "We accept… and thank you."
"Great," I replied as Charlie's tail thumped against my chair. "Then, whenever you're ready we'll head out. My cars parked near the store. If Jake will give us a ride back to town, Charlie and I'll be on our way."
"I'll need the address you want it delivered to," Jake said, getting up from his chair.
"I'll give you my home address when we get to town," I replied. "But call me first, I may want it taken somewhere else. One of the business locations."
"Okay," he said. "No problem either way. Give me a few minutes to clean up, then I can take you back."
"So," I said, turning to Breej. "Are you named after the Patron Saint, or the Celtic Goddess?"
"Some people don’t know the difference," she said, smiling. "But my mother said she named me Brigid because I was born on her day. Does that answer your question?"
"I think it does," I replied.
"You appear to know your folklore, Mr. Robert," she said.
"Just a hobby," I replied, getting up from my chair. "Something I picked up from my grandmother." I wrung my hands over the fire and then motioned to Charlie. "Thank you again for dinner. I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here. I look forward to doing business with you two."
"As do I, Mr. Robert," she replied. "As do I."
Twenty minutes later, Jake dropped us off at the store. I jotted my home address on the back of a business card and Charlie and I took a walk down the street in the direction of the closest cabin rentals. When Jake was out of sight, I made one last phone call, and then we turned and made our way to the highway.
"That was interesting," I said, as Charlie and I crossed the empty street, walking deeper into the forest. "What are the Fair Folk doing out here?"
"Watching us," he replied.
"So why the kid crazy dog act?" I asked. "She had to know what you were."
"Perhaps," he replied. "But it seemed the most prudent, under the circumstances. I am not so sure of the male."
"I didn't get anything from him either.
"Yet you hired him."
"If they really are spies, it's better to keep them close," I replied, chuckling. "Although I haven't decided if that's a good thing or bad thing yet. Either way, I really can use a mechanic, and he's as good as any. I already have plans for those things down below. Whoever I hire doesn’t need to know where the things are going. They just need to work on them. Even if he is reporting to the Tuath Dé, what do I care? I've got no beef with the Fair Folk, although it's possible they've heard of my search for the Eye. Still, I doubt either one of them is a threat."
"Prudent."
"Yeah, maybe," I said, finally far enough from the road to use magic. I summoned my bident to open a portal home. "First the Egyptians, then the Devil and his words of warning, and now the Celtic Fae. Who else are we going to find sniffing around? What in the name of Hades have I fallen into this time?"
Chapter 9
I'd been looking forward to sleeping in my own bed for a while now. Oh, sure, palace life has its moments, even when said palaces are in the Underworld. But when you live a life like mine, home becomes the mythical place you dream about. If for no other reason than everyone seems to be intent on keeping you away. I had barely been in my bed an hour when the phone rang. As I picked it up, I noticed the time, 4:00 A.M., and the caller I.D.
"Yeah," I said, pushing the answer button.
"Heard you were back," the voice said. "Now get out of bed. I need your ass down here, and don't use magic. It's an Article Seven, so bring your checkbook." It was O'Malley, the head of the LVPD's Homicide Division, as well as their covert Magical Investigations Bureau.
An Article Seven was an illegal use of magic that affected humans where a Fae was responsible. It was usually used when property damage had occurred, and the cause could be attributed to one of the Fae that was living in Vegas. Part of our agreement with the human world's politicians. Think of it as a Fae insurance policy to pay off the injured in problem situations to prevent our discovery. Not to mention making sure they never make it to a civilian courtroom. In almost every case, most people, and their attorney's, would rather settle any issue out of court anyway. Especially with the kind of money we could throw around. Every powerful Fae in the Valley contributed to the fund. It would have been foolish not to.
As the highest-ranking Fae in the area, I was the one ultimately responsible for such things. We did have a board with other important Fae though, and normal protocol would have been to route it through the Milagres switchboard over at the Neptune Casino. Between them and Cornwall's office (Yep, even we use lawyers for those kinds of things), they handled the business end of Fae issues in the Valley. I was almost never involved directly. Usually I'd just read about it in a report. Most of this was treated just like an insurance company would, except we file the claim for you, and no one's the wiser. Of course, a little magic spell whispered in someone's ear helps to smooth things along when necessary.
"What now?" I mumbled as I got out of bed. "Don’t use magic? I'll have to drive then."
"I hope you remember how," he replied, sarcastically. "It's a Demon fire drill down here. Just get a move on. I'm at Oakey and Boulder Highway. You can't miss me," he said before hanging up.
I was half tempted to call Sendy and have her check out what was going on b
efore I left. But O'Malley wouldn’t have told me not to use magic without good reason. So, I put the idea aside and changed clothes. I told Charlie not to worry and then jumped in my car and headed out to meet O'Malley on the other side of downtown. I took the Eastern off-ramp and turned right, crossing Charleston to make the left onto Fremont Street, which turned into Boulder Highway down the road a few miles at Sahara Boulevard. I'd barely crossed the street when things got interesting.
We used to call this area Five Points East, because five roads intersected this area within half a block. Today they were all filled with the flashing red lights of police cars. As I made it to the next turn, the points of flashing lights directed my eyes up the road and past where O'Malley had told me to meet him. Damn! What the hell had happened here?
As I continued to drive southbound, I noticed that almost every patrol car was stopped behind an exotic, and expensive, sports car. Some were just sitting in the road in the northbound lanes, but a few had crashed on this side of the highway. Spotting a human police officer I recognized, I pulled over to the side of the road behind his car. He was standing on the sidewalk next to where a new Corvette had barreled through the chain link fence into an empty lot. The officer looked over as I stepped out.
"That you, Sarge?" the officer asked, walking over to me and pointing to my '57 Vette. He'd been a cadet when I retired, but I'd worked with his father in the old days. "Retirement must be good, eh? When'd you get this?"
"Not too long ago, Jarrod, " I replied, reaching out to shake his hand. "Ran across a good deal."
"I bet you did! Well, it’s a good thing it wasn't over at ZZ's Exotics," he said with a grin, then pointed to the newer Corvette with the fence wrapped around it. "Mighta wound up like the rest of these. What are you doing out here this time of the morning, anyway?"
"Got a call from their insurance company," I replied. "I'm supposed to meet O'Malley up the road."
"Better you then me," he replied, trying not to laugh. "There're upwards of 50 cars involved in this shit. All of them classics. I hope they have deep pockets."
"Let's hope so," I said, nodding at the damaged car. "What the hell happened?"
"Beats me," he said, shaking his head. "Dispatch log says it's some kind of driverless car roll out. Supposed to be making a commercial tomorrow and somebody screwed up. Sounds like bullshit to me. We're not supposed to touch the vehicles, but I didn’t see anything on the driver's side that looked like electronics. Gotta be something like that, though. These cars can’t drive themselves. I'd pop the hood, but I don’t feel like taking a trip to IAB."
"Probably smart," I chuckled, then patted him on the shoulder. "Well, I'd better get up there. Say hi to your dad for me."
"Will do, Sarge," he replied, walking back to his patrol car. "Hey! I'm like 40 in line for a tow truck. O'Malley's in charge. Got any pull to move me up a few on the list?"
"I'll see what I can do," I said, with a grin, then got back into my own car. I started it up and continued down Fremont to the car dealership on Oakey.
The perimeter of ZZ's Exotic Cars was surrounded by yellow tape. I passed several news vehicles and then turned into the driveway where I was immediately flagged down by another officer in uniform. I showed him my I.D. and he opened the tape barrier, directing me to a small parking area. After I pulled in, he went back to his post, but not before telling me to wait here for the Lieutenant.
O'Malley looked like he had just finished a press conference. Stationed in front of the sales office, a small crowd of reporters and camera operators were putting equipment away. Now back inside the taped perimeter, he was speaking to a few officers in uniform as well as detectives in plainclothes, all of them members of his Fae teams. There was also an individual I recognized as an attorney that worked in Cornwall's office. Not surprisingly, he was a Fae as well, and he didn’t look too happy at the Lieutenant's choice of verbiage. But what else was new? Rather than interrupt, I just stayed where I was at, leaning against the car until they were done. As the group broke up, he saw me waiting, then he and the attorney walked in my direction. Fortunately, we were far enough away from the few reporters left to be out of earshot.
"For the Gods sake!" O'Malley said, angrily, as he marched up to where I was standing. "I don’t have time for this crap. Tell this bloodsucker to open his checkbook or all Hell's going to break loose!"
"What seems to be the problem?" I asked the attorney
"As I was trying to explain to the Lieutenant," he replied, pinching his lips together. "The amount of funds necessary to accomplish what the Lieutenant requires exceeds my authority under the circumstances presented. Without clear proof that a local Fae was involved, I cannot authorize such an expenditure. Even if I could, the amount in question would require a full vote of the Board. Something I do not believe would occur based on the flimsy evidence presented to me at this time."
"Flimsy evidence, my ass!' O'Malley yelled. "Nikki knows what she's talking about. If she say's this was Fae magic then that's what it is!"
"No disrespect toward the Queen… your daughter… Mr. Hoskins," the attorney said, nodding. "But without being able to attribute the magic to any one of the local houses, that's simply not good enough in this situation."
"I don't think you understand the situation," O'Malley continued, emphasizing the word. "If we don’t get a handle on this now, that means the Feds could get involved. I don’t have to tell you how the Sheriff's going to react if that happens." He pointed his index finger at me. "Talk some sense into this idiot, will you?"
"I'm not sure I understand, either," I said, pushing myself off the car and leaning in toward them. "What part of Nikki's information isn’t enough to justify what the Lieutenant is asking for?"
"There is no question that whatever magic was behind this… incident… is of Fae origin," the attorney replied. "I accept the Queen's judgment where that is concerned. However, there is no proof that said magic was wielded by any of the local Fae. The perpetrator, I have been told, is human, with no ties to any of the local Fae that the Lieutenant can identify. Without a nexus to one of the local houses, the mere fact that a Fae may be at the root of the issue does not justify the expenditure of such a large amount of funds. While I appreciate the sensitivity of this incident, and what the political ramifications of Federal involvement may mean. Without some indication that one of my clients was involved, I can't in good conscience recommend we pay that kind of money."
"How many times do I have to say this, Counselor?" O'Malley said. "Get that stick out of your ass and listen. If we don’t deal with this now, all Hell really will break loose. The Feds are up our asses enough already as it is. This is just going to push them over the edge. Money is the least of your problems if they decide this violates any of the covenant's we're bound by."
"Okay," I said, jumping in. "What are we talking about here? Money, I mean."
"Well," the attorney said in a huff. He pulled a notebook from his jacket pocket and began going through it. "53 exotic vehicles… alleged value between 25k and 100k… per vehicle. Give or take. Some appear undamaged, but just as many were involved in an accident of some kind. Then there is the additional property damage, including one restaurant which is now a… we'll call it a drive thru. Then there will be liability payments with negotiations for non-disclosure agreements. The amount will be in the millions. That assumes negotiations proceed without interference. Should there be problems… Well then, it could get more expensive."
"I got it," I said cutting him off. I turned to O'Malley. "I've heard the driverless car cover story. But what about the owner? Is he going to cause us any grief?"
"He's a greedy son of a bitch," O'Malley replied. "But he's also a practitioner. Known to dabble in Witchcraft. He knows how to keep his mouth shut."
"And the press?" I said, nodding my head to the few reporters still gathering up gear in front of the sales building.
"They're buying it," he replied. "They love technology stories gone wrong.
I'll hook them up with a few experts and it'll be fine. If the Counselor here will let go of the funds, that is. Otherwise?" He shrugged his shoulders and grimaced.
"As I've told you, Lieutenant," the attorney said, before I cut him off… again.
"Forget the fund," I said, sighing. "Charge it to the Dark Zeus Corporation. All of it. Don’t scrimp. Just get it done.
"As you wish," the attorney said, the first hint of a smile on his lips. "That will be acceptable. I will coordinate with the Lieutenant's office. If there is nothing else, I'll get started on it."
"You do that," I replied, watching him scribble some notes in his book. Then he pulled out his phone and walked off.
"Dark Zeus?" O'Malley asked.
"Personal account," I replied with a grin. "Hades money. Doesn’t do any good just sitting there. Besides, there's more where that came from. But I want full access."
"Show off," he said, grinning back. "Fine. You've declared it a Fae matter. I would have had to cut you in anyway. Where do you want me to start?"
"How about at the beginning," I replied. "Which reminds me. Casper's kid is at the bottom of the list for a tow. Can you expedite one for him?"
"You think money buys you everything?" he asked, scowling. Then his expression eased a bit and he pulled out his radio and ordered it done. He shrugged again. "They were supposed to move the tows for the regular officers to the front anyway."
"Thanks," I replied. "Now, you were just about to tell me what happened."