Hi, guys! I know, it might seem like a long time to wait, but here you are - a new chapter and more mystery to come! Thank you all who reviewed/favorited/added this story – it really means a lot and it makes me going.
I would really appreciate to have some feedback on the story. Do you like the characterization? What would you like see in the future?
Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 6
Outside Harry Dresden's office, 4:50 pm.
OK, that obviously was a bad day. One of those when you wish to crawl under the rock and never see the light again. Well, at least, you certainly don't want to have anything to do with mysterious murders and pissed off cops.
Harry Dresden made his way back home, not in the greatest of his moods, the thought of the mysterious woman, who clearly had some influence on Murphy, not leaving his mind. There was something off about her. Just what? Apparently, she wasn't with the police; and the thought of Murphy finding another consultant on such a short time notice wasn't the one he would like to entertain.
Harry was so busy trying to sooth his already throbbing temples, he almost ran into his current girlfriend, Jenna Slaws. She was hovering in front of his office door; arms clasped tightly around her petite form, in a vain attempt to protect t herself from the mercilessly cold Chicago wind; looking like an adorable teenager, waiting for her date to arrive. On seeing him approaching, her face broke into that innocent charming smile that Harry has recently come to admire. Too bad, he was nowhere in the mood for…well…anything…
"Harry!" Jenna practically ran into his arms, grinning like a madman. "Oh, I've been waiting for you for ages! Where have you been? Today's The Day, remember?" Harry blinked several times, trying to recollect what this sudden appearance meant. Then, it dawned on him,
"Jenna! I'm so glad to see you…" He kissed her cheek, purposefully missing her lips. For if he started it would be so hard to tear away from her. And he had to figure the stuff out….Lots of stuff…Like a bloody blunder of stuff…And Murphy…The thought of Murphy sobered him immediately. He was suspect number one in a murder investigation. Probably double homicide by now…And there were no clues, nothing to get his hands on to prove the police otherwise. Gathering himself quickly, he looked down at his current companion, giving her a very guilty smile. Oh, Sweet Jenna! She wouldn't like what he was about to do. Not in the least. "Sorry, have the urgent case to work on…Would you like to come in?" The girl nodded enthusiastically, clearly missing a hint. God, she was so ingenuous!
Together they made it into his office. She gently plopped herself on the uncomfortable chair he kept for the clients, untangling her long green-and-pink striped woolen scarf. Harry shrugged off his coat and sat opposite from her, mentally preparing to become the jerkiest jerk in history.
"So, what movie today?" Jenna asked, her smile brilliant in the dim lightning. "I've brought some comedies and that French movie I've been telling you about. Oh, and I've just read that book, you know, I was constantly praising, the Mexican writer. That's something incredible! I absolutely have to tell you about it!" Harry looked at her awkwardly. Yep, she was great: caring, understanding, well-read, gentle, but even she, he bet, wouldn't take it nicely. Damn it!
"Um…look Jen, I'm sorry…You know, I have this case from the police…I have to work on it right away…I'm afraid, I can't do this tonight…But, I'll make it up to you, I swear!" He gave his best apologizing grin. He was sorry, he truly was, but right now there were more pressing matters to attend to: two homicides, a demon on the loose, a missing magical relic. The stakes were high and the time was running out. Whoever needed Riel for whatever purpose wouldn't hesitate to use it and soon. He needed to sit down and analyze everything from the very beginning, slowly, put the pieces together and get to a bigger picture. Sorry, Jenna.
"Oh," He could see her grin sliding off her face, even if she tried to mask her disappointment hastily. Shit, he was a bastard to do that to this sweet young girl, but right now he had to make the things right…By Morgan, by Murphy, by those two women who died. Jenna was simply wonderfully understanding, for she fought down her indignation and a hurtful look; instead, giving him a forced smile that looked lovely, nonetheless...
"Well…I do understand…What you do is really important," She said hastily, standing up and moving to the door. Somehow Harry felt even worse: it would've been better if she'd screamed at him and claimed to never wanting to see him again. "Um, when you are free, give me a call, alright?" Not waiting for his hasty explanations and lame excuses, she all but run out, tears already evident in those big blue innocent eyes of hers.
"Jenna! Jenna, wait!" Harry called for her, but she was already out of the door. He sighed deeply, could this day become even worse? Figures, never say never….
"Well, well, well…That was quite a scene!" Bob appeared through the wall of the lab, his usual scorn making Harry roll his eyes in despair.
"Not now, Bob!"
"So, in less than twenty four hours you managed to become the sole suspect in two homicides, aggravate Lieutenant Murphy and, what… screw up your date? Though no, it didn't even come to that. I'd say your day was…ever so…um…un-productive?" Bob deliberately chose the wording, so that every phrase itched Harry even more.
"You know, I'm not up for your mocking, Bob! I…I just can't understand what's up with Murphy lately! She…it's like she is deliberately looking for a fault in me…Whatever is happening, she thinks I'm the guilty one! Plus there was that girl!" Harry sighed in resignation, running a hand through his hair and plopped himself into the armchair angrily.
"The girl?" Bob made his best "I've-no-idea-what-you-are-talking-about" expression.
"Yea, hot, stylish and incredibly annoying! Tagged along with Murphy, like they are best friends or something!" Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. God, how he wanted to simply forget those last couple of days and just live a normal life! Not that his life was usually normal, but at least some things still stayed sane…like Murphy…was always there…when he needed her to need him…Now he wasn't even sure it would ever be the same anymore.
"Ah, I take it you just met this…m-m…mysterious Ms. Lewis," Bob nodded knowingly, before feigning his best innocent look. "How was she?"
"You know, Bob, something about her look gave me creeps," Harry once again remembered that glance the journalist gave him at the entrance of the Delano Hotel. It was so nerve racking and unsettlingly familiar.
"Oh, I thought that lately it was only this girl, Jenna, who's doing that," Bob couldn't miss the chance to taunt his friend. However, seeing no reaction from Harry, his face momentarily became serious. "Yes, I've also noticed that something about her was not exactly…right. It's her eyes, and the way she was looking around, calculating, memorizing almost… She is the force to be reckoned with, no doubt…"
"And so, she found a way around Murphy…" Harry drawled contemplatively. "Murphy told that she gets her information from a secure source…"
"You think..?" Bob prompted.
"I bet it was Lewis who told her about Lindsey and Uncle Justin," Harry announced solemnly, getting up and starting pacing across the room. Bob gave him a puzzled look.
"What for? I mean, why would a journalist be looking for information about Lindsey's past so fastidiously; and mostly, why would she come up with this precise information to share with the good Lieutenant?"
"I guess it's not what we should ask," Harry was getting more and more agitated, "It's why Melissa Lewis appeared in this exact time? Why was she so interested in Lindsey's murder in the first place? Seems to me as if Lewis had known something about the girl even before she was killed…"
"You think she was personally acquainted with Lindsey beforehand?" Bob asked, arching his brow skeptically.
"She might have been as well, that would explain why she is so eager to find the murderer."
"Well, call her," Bob suggested curtly.
"What?" Harry looked at the ghost confused. Bob sighed dramatically, before he went on with the explanations.
"When she had come here seeking you out, she left her number and asked you to give her a call. She said it was a personal issue, but you might as well inquire about her particular interest in this case."
"Yeah, yeah, OK," Harry nodded his head enthusiastically, reaching for the phone. "Where's the number again?" Bob shook his head at the mess on the table before pointing to the slip of blue perfumed notepad paper.
Madison Ave. 46, AP.10, 5:20 pm.
Melissa Lewis lay sprawled on the creamy sofa in the lounge of her spacious apartment in Near North Side, with a glass of rich ruby wine in hand. With the blinds drawn tightly, a soft shade of white light from a few wall sconces bathed the room in a cold detached glow. It was tastefully decorated in pale-light lilac; the fluffy white rugs on the floor made atmosphere placid but strangely cozy. Melissa, the only azure bright spot in the room, was typing something on a laptop, occasionally sipping her wine. She almost got as far as the second paragraph of her new article when the cell phone rang. She frowned slightly at the unknown number before snapping it open.
"Hello?"
"Um, Miss Lewis? Hi, it's Harry Dresden." His voice was unsure, just like a little boy on his first day of school. That alone made her set her laptop aside, a slight satisfied smile appearing on her lips. Finally! He did take the bait after all.
"Oh, sure, Mr. Dresden. I did visit your office yesterday. Took you a while to return the curtsey of calling me."
"M-m, well…I was kinda in the middle of something," there was hesitation on the other end and Melissa rolled her eyes as soon as she pictured his tentative face. What a child!
"Sure you were. Now, I guess we have a lot to talk about, Mr. Dresden."
"Do we?" Harry asked coyly, trying to play oblivious.
"Sure. If you want to find Lindsey Braton's killer, that is." Melissa smiled maliciously as she heard the stunned silence on the other end. A moment later Harry was back in his detective mode.
"Do you have any information about the possible murderer?!" He asked, his voice involuntary betraying his bewilderment and eagerness to solve the mystery.
"Perhaps…Not sure, but I do have my guesses…" Melissa offered discreetly.
"Well, will you share?" Dresden prodded impatiently, already tired of this game of wits. That only made Melissa's grin wider.
"Patience, Mr. Dresden! Weren't you told that's a virtue?" She was obviously flirting and Harry briefly wondered why would she want to flirt with him, they haven't even met yet; before hastily shaking his head, focusing back on the conversation. "Look, it's obviously not a phone talk," the woman continued, suddenly all business-like. "Why won't we meet somewhere we can speak freely…and maybe have a drink?"
"Sure," Harry couldn't tell why, but his guts were whispering to him it was a very bad idea. He was still receiving the offer, nonetheless.
"Great, say…at 10 pm. at "Santino". You know the club, don't you?"
"Yeah," Harry drawled, though he didn't have a slightest idea. Right, he could look it up in the yellow pages later.
"All right, see you there then. Oh, and don't be late, I do hate tardiness!" With this, the line went dead and Harry was left in the middle of his consultant room with a sour feeling of upcoming trouble.
Melissa smirked and stretched out on the couch gracefully, her violet-painted toes touching the cool creep, wiggling enthusiastically. Like a cat that has just devoured a canary. Yes, everything is going along just great!
Harry Dresden's office 9:15 pm.
Harry was trying to adjust his best-looking and highly itchy jersey; keeping in mind he should look at least semi-presentable to enter the club. His mind, however, was returning to the events of the last two days. His talk with Lisa Adams proved that Lindsey's life had changed two weeks before, when she deliberately reached out to her former friend. Just like she wanted to be noticed, just like she knew what was going to happen to her. Suddenly it all started to make sense: Lindsey had emerged out of whatever place she was hiding at just at the time when Uncle Justin was resurrected. The words that scared her friend so much "He's back, how could he be back!" were obviously referring to his uncle's doppelganger. Could it be that the ganger came in touch with her somehow? Did he need her help just like the real Justin Morningway used to in the past? He would probably never find this out.
Damn, all of this didn't help much to uncover Lindsey's killer. Who needed her death? Was someone trying to shut her up, so she would never tell a soul about her association with his uncle? That made no sense, though…Somehow, he knew that whatever motive the perpetrator had it was much more sinister than keeping the identity of Justin Morningway a secret.
Then again, it wasn't much of a secret anymore. The police knew. Murphy knew. She was tipped, more accurately. By someone who knew much more than all of them altogether. By someone who was very involved in this case, far more for it to be a simple curiosity…Melissa Lewis…He could tell that whatever it was she was hiding had everything to do with the deaths of both Lindsey Braton and Kira Welsh. And tonight he was going to uncover the truth. One way or another…
The front door of his consulting room creaked, announcing a new visitor, making Dresden jump with a start. Rushing out to tell whoever has come that he was already closed, Harry nearly bumped into Murphy, who stalked into the room looking for any sing of the wizard. The Lieutenant raised her brow skeptically, taking in his attire, and for a moment Harry thought he saw a smirk forming in the corners of her mouth, but it disappeared immediately, replaced by a non-committal cool detective mask of pure professionalism.
"Going out, aren't you?" There was a good deal of sarcasm in her voice and Dresden sighed relieved and a bit self-conscious: that was the Murphy he knew.
"Hi, Murph, wanna come in?" He couldn't erase the stupid grin from his face even for the love of God.
"I'm already in, Dresden," Murphy shook her head and casually placed herself on his tattered couch. "So, I take it you've heard about the second homicide…" She drawled carefully watching his reaction. Harry's face instantly fell,
"Look, Murphy, d'you really think that I did that?" He couldn't help but cringe at the note of desperation in his voice. For a moment there was silence between them, so thick Dresden could hear the dripping of water from the tap that needed repairing for… well, a very long time.
"Nope, I don't suppose you did that…BUT," she continued, raising her hand to stop any of his attempts to interrupt her, "…somehow, according to some weird unexplainable pattern all the leads go to you. And this is what I need to understand, Harry."
"Look, Murph, I know I did a lot of stuff, for you not to trust me," Harry began, ignoring the snort of pretend disbelieve coming from the detective. "But I swear that this one…I don't have anything to do with it. I mean, sure I'm in the middle of the mess, as per usual, but, seriously, this time it wasn't my intention... I need you…I need you to trust me… Only we could make it right, the two of us, Murph." There was some visible tension in the room formed by his words; the way he looked at her, so pleadingly, so genuinely sincere, it made her heart beat quicken in a solid need to trust him. The longer she looked at him, the sooner she was losing her concentration. It was incredible how powerfully he influenced her judgment. Truth to be told, it scared her more than the possibility of him being a murderer.
"You made it sound like some soap-opera scene," she laughed out stiffly, looking away from him, trying to break whatever weird connection was created between them by his words.
"Yeah, I'm good at that one," Dresden smirked haughtily. Murphy nodded absently, still feeling a little put out, instead reaching out and handing him the file she had with her. Harry took it, giving the detective a questioning look.
"The new victim, Kira Welsh, at least according to her driving license. It was a fake, just like everything about this woman. Kirmani's still trying to find her true identity. She is not in any system, though, just like she's never existed." She sighed, running a hand through her hair wearily. Those had been a couple of tough days. God, she needed a rest…and a hot bath...and a drink, two actually. "There's seemingly no motive. No sign of intrusion, nothing stolen…"
"She was killed in the same manner as Lindsey Braton," That wasn't a question. The statement made the detective immediately sit up straight.
"Just how do you bloody know?" Murphy asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
"I just do," Harry replied smugly.
"Oh, yes, magic," Murphy rolled her eyes at the wizard. There, however, wasn't any malice in her voice, just sarcasm and doubt. "We are working on it, but right now, we don't have any sufficient leads. Please tell me you have something? Anything?" She sounded almost hopeful and Harry instantly hated himself for having to lie to her…again…
"Not yet, but I'll give you a call as soon as I get something, OK?" Murphy nodded, getting up, and moved to the door. Just as she reached for the doorknob, his words caught up with her, making the detective twirl around abruptly. "Hey, look, this journalist, Lewis, who is she?"
"Should I even ask how you learned about her? Honestly, the girl is a pain in the ass, she is always there when there's something new to the case, she's exceptionally informed about it and…she's interested in you…"
"Me? Well, I'm flattered!" Harry exclaimed arrogantly, and the corners of her mouth lifted up in a small smile, amused by how big his ego could be sometimes. "Seriously, though, you said that you've got your information from a secure source, was it Lewis who provided it?" Murphy sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly.
"Yeah, she practically forced me to bring her into this investigation, she's very skillful at manipulation, you know."
"It's a bit strange, isn't it? She's only focused on this very case, she knows a whole lot. God, Murph, even I didn't have any clue Uncle Justin had an assistant," Harry shuffled his hair restlessly.
"OK, I see your point, I've already asked Kirmani to check her out once again, see if we missed something…more than a parking ticket fine." Murphy opened the door and stepped out turning to Dresden one last time. "And you," she pointed a finger at him, to emphasize her point, "you'd better be careful, Dresden. I don't want to save your sorry ass…again."
So we are close to the main intrigue…Who is Melissa Lewis? What does she want with Harry? Stay tuned for the next chapter!
