DISCLAIMER: New chapter, now with more PeggAngst. I couldn't very well let Shaun stay happy, could I? 'Cause that would be boring. And let's face it, the boy can cry.
Detective Ashford ducked under the crime scene tape that now spanned the doorway of Room 23, maneuvering expertly around the scurrying police personnel and forensics technicians. This hotel was getting to be quite the trouble spot. And trouble spots needed to be dealt with quickly and efficiently; it was the mentality she'd gotten from her years of walking a beat. Her sharp eyes darted everywhere, taking in every detail. Young couple, from the looks of their bags. City folks. Her fellow detective signaled to her from across the room and she followed him.
"Tell me what I'm seeing, Murphy," Ashford inquired as they entered the bathroom.
"A woman drowned in a tub, ma'am," the young detective sergeant replied matter-of-factly. "Possible suicide."
"But if you were going to commit suicide, why would you wear a robe? Notice her nails are broken, and there are scratches in the wallpaper. Nail varnish smudged on the porcelain…as if she were struggling. Not to mention water splashed everywhere."
"But no external bruising. If someone were holding her down, there would be bruising around the neck and shoulders."
"It is quite the mystery, isn't it?" She turned to one of the forensics people snapping photographs. "I want to know the coroner's findings as soon as he's finished with the autopsy."
"Yes, ma'am," the photographer replied and went back to work.
"She fits the same profile as the recent victims," DS Murphy said, as he and Ashford exited the bathroom and began to methodically scan the hotel room. "Young, single, and in this hotel…"
"Only she wasn't single. This room is registered to a Mr. and Mrs. Anakin Skywalker," she noted, reading from her notepad.
The detective sergeant snorted derisively.
"What's the problem, Murphy?" she asked.
"Ain't you ever seen Star Wars?"
"I saw that Phantom Menace or whatever it was. Three hours of my life I'll never get back."
"Right. Well, I have. It's a fake name, idn't it? And not a very imaginative one at that. Anyway, I looked 'em up in the receipts. The room was charged to a Shaun Riley."
"Has anyone seen this Shaun Riley?"
"Not yet. They were scheduled to check out this morning. Her things are packed. His aren't."
"Then I'd say our first priority is to find him. If he's not a suspect, he might be a witness."
At that moment, Shaun was descending the stairs from Sara's floor to his own, whistling Van Morrison's "Moondance" in his present state of bliss. Too late, he would realize that he was in fact in a state of blissful ignorance. As he rounded the corner, he saw the dark blue of uniforms bustling back and forth out of an open doorway. The doorway to his room. His mouth fell open and his heart began to pound; an awful sense of foreboding settled on him as he drew closer.
"Sorry, sir, no one's allowed inside," a policeman posted at the door stated.
"But this is my room. What's happened?"
"Sorry, sir, I'm not allowed to discuss police business."
"Look, this is my room," he repeated, anxiety giving way to anger. "I think you can tell me what is going on in my room."
"Sir, please calm down."
"I will not calm down. There must be a reason that a bunch of bloody uniforms are walking around my room. Now tell me what's happened!"
A slender, dark-haired woman with an angular face and authoritative air made her way out into the hallway. "Sir, can I help you?"
"Yes. I'd like to know what is going on in my room if it's not too much trouble."
"Are you Shaun Riley?" she inquired.
"Yes."
"Mr. Riley, I'm Detective Ashford of the Penrith police. I'm very sorry to inform you, but your girlfriend was found dead about an hour ago."
Shaun stood so still, as if his feet were cemented to the floor, trying to process this news. He felt like he'd just taken another spike in the gut. The world that only moments ago had seemed full of beauty, and hope, and possibility came crashing in on itself, like it had been smashed to bits with a sledgehammer. Had she really just said what he thought she said? "Dead?"
"Yes, sir. She seems to have drowned in the bath."
"No," he said, shaking his head, nearly doubling over. "No, it's not possible. I want to see her." He began to stride into the room, but the detective put up an obstructing hand. A burly uniformed cop, at least six foot four, walked up behind her.
"I'm afraid I can't let you go in there," Ashford informed him.
"You'd better. I don't believe you, she's not dead…look, I need to see her." It made him feel remotely useful, given the situation, to be so confrontational. But all the bluster in the world wasn't making the feeling in the pit of his stomach go away. After everything he'd been through, he knew that feeling too well. Death was near.
"And I'm telling you…for your own sake, you don't want to see her."
Shaun looked the police woman in the eye, absorbed what she was telling him…and began to crumble. "This is…it's not true, she can't be dead. Emma! Emma, answer me!" He tried again to get past her but the tank of a copper behind her stepped forward and wouldn't budge.
"Mr. Riley, I can appreciate the fact that you're upset, but I cannot let you in." Ashford insisted. "This is now a crime scene and we need time to gather evidence and accurately process it. That's the only way we're going to find out what happened to your girlfriend. Do you understand?"
He backed up, slowly, the blood draining from his face. Shaun's back landed on the hallway corridor and he slid to the floor. For fuck's sake, what had he done? Or more to the point…what hadn't he done?
"Yes," he consented, weakly.
"Now, I'd like to speak with you when I've finished up here. Would you mind waiting in the dining room downstairs? Constable, please escort this man downstairs." Her stern expression softened. "And get him a stiff drink while you're at it."
Shaun stared past her into the room, then silently nodded and allowed the constable to help him to his feet.
Meanwhile, Sara's eyes read all the way to the bottom of the page before she realized she had no idea what she'd just read. She sighed and started back at the first paragraph. She told herself to focus. Think demons, dammit… no more daydreams about Smiley Riley rockin' her turntables all night long. Though she wondered why she was wasting her time with these old books anyway. Julian would identify the demon, figure out its weakness, and then dispatch her to deal with it. The same way they'd been doing things for months. It was a system that, despite some minor hiccups - like what happened with Big Blue, whose physical prowess she had to admit she'd slightly underestimated - had worked repeatedly. So why should this time be any different?
While she was reading the same page in Pope Pius IX's Guida Alla Malvagità for the third time, searching for a match to the demon they'd tangled with the previous night, the bedside phone rang. "Hello?"
"Where have you been?" Julian snapped. "I've been trying to get hold of you all morning."
"Aaagh!...sorry, Jules," she replied, cursing herself silently. She'd meant to turn her cell phone back on after Shaun had left and forgot. "Something came…up. Why the sudden note of urgency?"
"Things have taken a decidedly bad turn. I need you to meet me in the lobby as soon as possible."
"Okay, I'll be right there."
Sara hurriedly dressed, anxious to find out what was going on but still relentlessly cheerful. She bounded down the grand staircase humming Van Morrison's "Moondance" and met Julian in the foyer. "What's the sitch?"
"I've just spoken with Detective Ashford and informed her of the bodies you found in the chapel. Leaving the big blue fella out of it for now, but I'm not entirely sure we'll be able to keep that from them much longer, either. If what I suspect is going on is in actuality….uh, going on."
Sara stared at the commotion behind Julian, with numerous cops milling about. Two EMPs began to descend the staircase carting a cadaver in a body bag on a gurney; Ashford was behind them, glancing suspiciously in their direction, and Sara craned to see where they were going.
"Detective Ashford? Why is she here? I thought we didn't want to get the PD…and hey, we need to examine that body first!"
"I already have, Sara…" Julian looked far more stern than she'd ever seen him, which was either a gross overreaction or a herald of the worst news possible. Either way, she braced herself.
"So just once I don't pick up my cell, and now you won't even wait for me? Thanks a lot, Jules…"
"You're too close to this one, Sara."
"I'm too what!" She lunged forward and Julian forcefully held her back at the shoulders. Stared straight into her eyes and maintained a rational tone.
"It's Emma," he replied. "Shaun's girlfriend. She's the victim, housekeeping found her this morning. Local CID's already on the scene."
Sara suddenly felt light-headed, one arm grasping for support; Julian held her hand as she sank down onto the settee behind her. "No, that's…that's impossible. Was it the demon? Because unless it regenerated another arm, that thing is out of commission."
"I'm almost positive it was something else." He kneeled on the floor in front of her. "Something much bigger than a simple Velkor demon. This is clean. Methodical. Whatever did this came into our world and left again without a trace of evidence. It almost looks like she topped herself, except for…the struggle." Julian's eyes searched her face, perhaps for a sign that she was retaining any of this information.
Clarity came to her in fits and starts. Emma may have been shallow, insensitive, maybe even deserved a good smack in the face. But Christ….she didn't want the woman to die.
"Have you seen Shaun? Is he okay?"
"He's in there," Julian replied, tilting his head toward the dining room. "My guess is the detectives will want to have a word with him."
Sara let go of a long sigh and buried her face in her hands. "I don't know what to say to him."
"Then let me handle it." He started walking toward the table and Sara followed a few steps behind. When they turned the corner of the dining room doorway, Sara nearly crumbled to the floor. Shaun sat at a corner table by the window. His hands clutching a glass of water, his cheeks stained with tears…yet there were no sobs. No shivers, not even a quiver. He simply stared down at the tiny mauve flowers in the patterned carpet and took one shallow breath after another.
"Mr. Riley?" Julian attempted.
"Shaun, are you okay?" Sara asked softly. Every fiber of her being wanted to rush into his arms and comfort him, to assure him this wasn't his fault…but she resisted.
"She's dead," he mumbled, ashen-faced.
"We know, and we're very sorry for your loss," Julian stated. "Obviously, we'll do everything in our power to find out who killed Emma. But we're going to need your help. Did you notice anything strange or amiss when you returned to your room last night?"
"Ah, Jules…" Sara began.
"Sara, it's important that we talk to Shaun while the memory is still fresh in his mind."
"I don't think this is a good time," she suggested but was ignored.
"Shaun, you're our only witness. Do you remember seeing anything last night? Hearing anything?"
"Shut it, Julian," Sara warned.
"The slightest detail might turn out to be very important," he persisted.
Sara decided she'd had enough and grabbed Julian by the elbow to drag him away.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she snapped.
"I'm investigating a murder, Sara. That's kind of what we do."
Of all things, she thought – of all the ways she'd ever have to come clean. "Shaun doesn't know anything, so stop interrogating him."
"Well, I'm assuming he was in the room when his girlfriend was murdered."
She covered her mouth and looked down at the floor, muttering, "No, he wasn't."
"How do you know?"
"He wasn't," she repeated, insistently.
Julian studied her face and then shook his head. "Oh, Sara – for fuck's sake, don't tell me…"
"Shaun was with me all night, okay? There, it's out. And for the record? Not the way I wanted you to find out! So please, I'm asking you, leave him alone."
"So you reckoned you'd tell me eventually, did you? Well, I suppose that's progress…"
"Don't."
"This is just great, Sara! This is exactly what we need!" Julian snapped. "We have another innocent bystander getting killed because you were more interested in shagging…" He pointed meekly at the dining room…"Captain Wow over there than fulfilling your sacred duty."
Sara's mouth fell open. The balls on this ratty Mancunian bastard! "How is this my fault?"
"This is your pattern, Sara. Time and time again, your persistent carelessness and disregard for procedure have made you a liability to the Council." He began to count off her offenses on his fingers. "You got your former handler killed, you burned down a club, you've damaged countless historic properties, and created a major rift with our Russian allies. And now a young woman is dead because you were distracted by Shaun."
"Oh, I don't suppose Evelyn Fairfax or this Velkor demon had anything to do with it."
"This is hardly the time to be a smart-arse, Sara. I have tried unsuccessfully to be your advocate and get you back in the Council's good graces, but at this point, I'm just trying to figure out who I ticked off in order to get the job of babysitting an irresponsible trollop like you."
She regarded him as he finished his tirade, then drew her hand back and delivered a highly satisfying, swift right hook to his chin that sent him staggering. "Would you care to rephrase that?"
He straightened up and casually dabbed at a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. "No," he said firmly. "Look, I am through trying to be sensitive to your conflicted emotions. Emotions that have continually interfered with your ability to do your job."
"So this is you in self-righteous mode?"
"This is me in 'painful truth' mode. You need to grow up, Sara. This isn't all about you, or Shaun. This is about innocent people dying, and it is our responsibility to stop that from happening. Now when you're ready to start acting like a slayer, let me know. In the meantime, I need to talk to Detective Ashford."
He ascended the staircase, and she threw a look at his retreating back. Breathing in deeply in a futile attempt to calm herself, she returned to Shaun. With each step, though, her confidence wavered. It wasn't so long ago that she couldn't take her eyes off him; now, she could scarcely look him in the eye.
"Hey," she whispered, taking a seat at the table. "I'm sorry about just now. Julian tends to get carried away."
"Emma's dead. I can't…I can't believe it."
"Look, Shaun…I'm so sorry. Babe, I'm really…" She bit her lip; maybe "babe" was a little premature. "Shaun…I know this is a horrible shock. But I want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need."
"This is all my fault." He mournfully placed his head in his hands.
"No, Shaun, it isn't! Please…look, there's nothing that you could have done. In fact it's very likely if you had been in the room, you'd be dead, too. And …" She stifled the pleasant memories of the last twelve hours, and contemplated the horror of what might have been. "And I couldn't deal with that. Now we will figure this out and we'll fix it. It's what we do. But Shaun, please don't shut me out. Not after all we've been through."
The nagging urge to try and comfort him was just too strong. She hesitantly laid her hand on his arm. "Please let me help?"
"Sara, I…" He looked at her with red-rimmed eyes. "I'm sorry, I really can't do this right now." He got up and walked away toward the garden.
For a moment, she sat at the table, then stood on shaky legs and decided to rejoin Julian. He was right, after all. Everything had changed in an instant, and this new uncertainty forced her to go back to her comfort zone of violence and horror. So much for being a normal girl. It was time to start acting like a slayer again. Plus, she really felt like beating ten shades of shit out of something at the moment, and it might as well be a vengeance demon.