Chapter 10

A few minutes later we were home, and I dismounted the bike long enough to unlock the garage door and got it headed in the right direction. As the door rose, I returned to the motorcycle, preparing to wheel it in. But as I turned back, my eyes alighted on something inside.

A rusty old white panel van, not dissimilar to the one I'd seen outside of Pierce's place, was parked in my small garage.

I pushed the bike in, and hastily jumped to grab at the handle on the door. It clanged down with a thud, and I quickly locked it. Only then did I take a breath to slow my suddenly rapid pulse. Once I'd calmed somewhat and stored the WLA, I headed into the house.

"Q!" I called out when I didn't find him in the living space. Sal scrambled out of his box and perched on my shoulder, awaiting his reward. I quickly drew my cigarette box out and handed him a cinnamon stick, which he started nomming on with glee.

"Q!" I shouted again, and the goblin appeared at the stairs leading up from the basement.

"You get it?" he asked, and I drew the zip-locked sock from my pocket. He caught it when I tossed it to him, and then popped the zip open. His face screwed up in disgust after taking a sniff, and quickly resealed the bag. "Ugh. Humans."

"I thought we were going to wait to get the van?" I asked him, wishing I'd allow myself to smoke inside to help calm my nerves. Instead, I drew another cinnamon stick out and started chomping on it. Sal made a dismayed trill when he saw that, and leapt from my shoulder to the counter, all to keep his own treat safe.

"Figured it'd be better to go ahead and get it," he replied with a lopsided shrug. "Nobody is watching your place."

"Right now," I added as I slowed down on the stick. As nervous as I was, I'd broken off several pieces, and ground those down as I pointed at Q with the rest. "But what if they put watchers on me later? How are we going to get it out?"

"Why would they do that?" he said as he entered the kitchen and started rummaging around.

"Because they've got watchers at the suspect's house, and they saw me when I cruised by."

Q looked around at that, his red eyes widening a little. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, if need be, I'll distract them," he rasped out, resuming his search. He decided on combining some leftover meatloaf and Kung Po Chicken.

"You can't hurt them," I said pointlessly. Pointless, because he'd either do it or he wouldn't; my saying anything wouldn't make a lick of difference.

As I worried, he grunted a non-verbal response while piling the food on a microwavable plate. I sighed, knowing that anything more would simply annoy the goblin.

"Okay," I said, returning the curled bark to my mouth. "You make any headway?"

"Yes," he said as he watched the plate spin in the microwave. "There's an area south of downtown that has been vacated the last couple of weeks. Everyone in Undertown is avoiding it."

"So that's probably it then," I said, impressed by his quick work. I'd only called to tell him about my theory when I'd left the precinct. It seemed the supernatural grape vine was working overtime. Or maybe they're always that fast. "Anywhere we can stage?"

"I know a place," the goblin said as the microwave started to beep. He stuck a sharp-nailed finger in the food, and then closed the door again to heat it some more.

"Alright," I said as I gnawed on the bark. "Alright."

"Relax, Woody," the goblin said with his crooked grin, and he actually had the nerve to roll his eyes at me. "Everything is going according to plan. I've already scrubbed the equipment for fingerprints and loaded it all in the van. It's gassed and ready to go. We know where he's likely holed up, and I'll track him from there." He removed the plate from the microwave when it chimed, and gave a satisfied nod. "There's nothing to worry about."

And that's when the cops rang the front fucking bell.

The three of us stared toward the front hallway.

"Police," Q said after sniffing the air. "I can smell gun oil."

About a minute later, the doorbell rang a second time, the electronic chimes from the plug-in unit sounding like hell's bells ringing my doom.

"Is the van locked up?" I whispered to the room.

"Yes," Q said softly, his own carmine eyes not moving from the hallway. He'd been kind enough to install a new lock and knob after the police broke the previous one. If they tried for a repeat performance, I wasn't sure if he'd bolt for the basement stairs, or go rip the cops apart for undoing his efforts. As a being of faerie, he really didn't like that the cops could just bust in whenever they wanted. Violation of Guest Law rankled him.

"What about the stuff in it?" I asked. Sal spared me a glance over his little salamander shoulder, the act cute enough for a million likes on the internet, but somehow chilling in those circumstances. He too seemed to recognize the danger we were now in.

"The back windows are tinted," Q reminded me. "They can see in the front, but everything's covered under a tarp."

"License plates?" I asked as a third chime sounded.

"Swapped with others," he replied. He finally shot a narrow glance at me. "I know how to thieve, Woody."

"Right," I said. I gave it a moment, and then nodded. "Well, if they were coming through, they would have done it already."

"There's typically more pounding than bell ringing when they're breaking in," Q agreed.

"Then we're fine," I said with infinite bravado. "You head down, and I'll see what they want."

Q nodded and turned with a forced eased. As he headed toward the stairs leading to his underground lair, I took Sal's box out of my coat pocket and placed it on the counter.

"Best stay out of sight, buddy," I told him as I shrugged off the coat.

The salamander hesitated, but eventually took shelter in the snakewood box. I headed for the hallway, and tossed my coat on one of the pins on the wall. After making sure the door to the garage was shut, I peeked out the peephole to see what we were dealing with.

The two people standing outside looked human enough. One was Stallings. The second was a short blond woman I didn't recognize. Her head barely reached the peephole. As Q's magically enhanced spyglass didn't reveal horns or tentacles waving up from beneath her short haircut, I figured she was just on the short end of normal.

Taking a breath, I unlocked the door and opened it wide, as if I had nothing to hide.

"What is it now?" I asked, my tone barely east of belligerent. I scowled at the Detective Sergeant. "Didn't have enough fun last night?"

If he was taken aback by my attitude, Stallings certainly didn't let it show. "Mr. Hayes, the Lieutenant and I were hoping to have a word." He nodded at the short woman, who's piercing blue eyes were studying me like a hammer studies a nail.

"About what?" I asked, keeping up my indignant tone. "You guys already cost me a paying gig, and I had to buy a replacement doorknob." I jiggled said nob for emphasis.

"We apologize for the inconvenience," the woman said, her tone anything but genuine. Her eyes drifted off of me and down the hallway. "I wanted to follow up, to make sure there were no hard feelings."

"Right, of course," I said, mimicking her tone. "Maybe I'll see how my lawyer feels after she's had a chance to review the warrant."

Her eyes narrowed slightly at that, and I wondered if she'd heard about my previous lawsuit against the city. Knowing that I'd already won just such a suit, most officials would be tripping over themselves to make sure I wasn't going to try and hit them up again.

But the Lieutenant wasn't phased in the slightest.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," she said, her cold eyes training on mine. "A more thorough review always tends to turn something up, one way or the other."

I wasn't sure if she was implying that they'd revisit the case if I remained difficult, or if she was threatening to plant whatever evidence was necessary to excuse the search. I'd dealt with cops of both ilk before. And whether she was one of the just or one of the corrupt, it didn't matter. I couldn't afford either.

"Is there anything else?" I asked, keeping my tone cool.

"No, I think that's all," she said, and began to turn away. I started to close the door, but she stopped and turned back. "Wait, I did think of one thing."

She pulled a hand from one of her coat pockets, and I saw that she was holding an evidence bag. Inside was a short strand of wire connected to the small microphone from a headset.

"Any idea what this is?" she asked, her voice deceptively light.

I leaned in to look at the baggie up close. "An electrical component of some sort?" I asked vaguely.

"It's a microphone," she explained. A blond eyebrow quirked upward. "Any idea how it made its way into the envelope which you handed Deputy Chief Inspector Robbins today?"

"A microphone?" I asked, sounding doubtful as I frowned at her. "Isn't that a little small to be a microphone?"

"No, actually," she said, feigning her own surprise. "Actually, when we found it, we wondered where it might have come from. One of our officers speculated that it might come from a headset." At her words, Stallings pulled a Polaroid from one of his pockets. He held it out for me to look at as the woman continued. "Maybe one like this."

I glanced at the photo, and saw that it was a shot from inside my house. When they'd investigated the night before, someone had taken a photo of my kitchen. Barely visible was my god-damned cordless phone station. The headset was sitting in its mount.

Fuck fuck fuck.

"That's weird," I said, hoping I didn't sound as shocked as I felt. "So what was it doing in the envelope?" I asked, turning back to the Lieutenant.

"Excellent question," she replied. "It didn't have a power supply, so it's not like it was doing anyone any good."

"Sounds harmless enough," I said with a shrug. "I re-use envelopes, so maybe someone else was having a spot of fun."

"Maybe," she said. She stared at me for a moment, the cold air not seeming to bother her as she tried to gauge my reaction. "You don't know anyone that would want to spy on you, do you?"

"I thought you said it didn't have a power source?" I asked, letting doubt creep into my tone. "Unless this is some lame attempt at drumming up more excuses to investigate me."

"Oh, no," the short blond woman said with a slight shake of her head. "There's no way it could have been used for anything. Not unless you believe in magic or something," she added, inclining her head as she said it.

"C'mon, really?" I said, surprised myself that my voice didn't crack. "Magic? Is that the best you can drum up?"

"I've seen a strange thing or two in my day," she replied with a slight shrug. "I've learned not to be too dismissive."

"Well, I'd love to keep chatting about such a fascinating subject," I said, giving the two of them a long suffered look. "But I've got to be going. I have a meeting with my coven tonight that I simply cannot miss."

"Of course," she said, sounding reasonable. "We don't want to keep you. But let me give you my number, in case you think of something you want to contribute to the case." She patted her pockets, as if searching for something. After a moment, her eyes widened. "Oops, I guess I left all of my cards at the station."

"Too bad," I replied as I stepped back into the door.

"How about I just program it into your phone?" she asked, tilting her head inquiringly. "That way you have it if you need it."

Ah ha. Heh. Heh.

Whoever she was, she was in the know. At least, she knew enough that mortal practitioners didn't get along with modern technology. There was something about using magic that made tech short out, and the more powerful you were, the worse it was. Low level talents could get away with some devices, but mobile phones were one of the most sensitive pieces of equipment out there. Anyone with any significant ability would struggle to keep one in good working order, and could certainly never use the latest and greatest.

Fortunately, I have no such talent.

"Sure, whatever," I said, rolling my eyes as I pulled my smart-phone out. I swiped the lock code in and pulled up the dialer for her, before handing it over. I glanced at Stallings, who had pocketed the picture at some point, and remained stoically quiet.

The woman hesitated only a second before she took the phone. I noted as she did that her other arm was sporting a cast. It wasn't easily visible under her coat, but I spotted it when she fumbled with my phone.

As she took it, her eyes had tightened only slightly, giving the only outward sign of her surprise. She diligently punched a number in and followed it with a name. Once she was done, she hit send, and a moment later her own phone rang. Shooting me a half smile, she ended the call and handed it back to me. "Just so I have yours."

"Sure," I told her as I took my phone back and slid it into my pocket. I'm sure it didn't hurt to make sure the thing was actually working, either. "And who knows?" I added. "After this is all over, if you want to go out for a drink, give me a call."

The change in attitude didn't phase her, but it made Stallings blink. I winked at him, and closed the door on their faces.

After locking the door, I pulled my phone back out and checked the call history. Sure enough, there was her information.

Karrin Murphy.

I smiled a nervous smile as I made my way back down the hall, where I planned on breaking my rule and smoking half a pack before my nerves caused my eye to start twitching maniacally.