“Might’ve?”
“Well, he was sitting in a chair when it happened—”
“Nope,” I said, turning my head back toward the ceiling.
“They think it was a magical sword that holds power—”
“Nope,” I said again. “I was hired on for the more dangerous, robust cases. This was assigned to you for a reason. It sounds pretty tame. You don’t need me.”
“C’mon, Reagan, please? It’ll take you two seconds to solve the case. It’s girls’ night out tonight. I don’t want to miss it. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve gotten out of the house without kids? Please. I really need this.”
I hated sob stories that involved missing a party. They pulled at my heartstrings.
The slide of my boots across the clean desk surface preceded the thunk of them hitting the ground. No clumps of dirt flaked off. Yet another sign that the job was too slow.
I missed my bounty hunter gig.
“You’ll come?” Clarissa said, bouncing up and down. Being that she was mid-forties and had birthed a few kids, there was a lot bouncing up and down with her.
“Yeah, sure, but I’m leaving directly after. I’m not going to hang around while you do paperwork.”
“Pushover,” Garret drawled.
I gritted my teeth, trying to keep a surge of violence at bay. Captain Lox had told me I couldn’t physically assault Garret. If I had a problem, I was supposed to take it through the proper channels. That was apparently how offices in the Brink ran, and MLE was trying to do things by the book. This was explained to me after our first “episode.” Garret had harassed me (office language for being a dick) shortly after I started working at MLE full-time—he’d said you’ve got a big ass, and I had (understandably) punched him in the mouth, shaking loose a tooth. We’d both had to sit through hours of videos on why each of us had behaved badly. On that occasion, everyone more or less agreed he’d deserved it, but I had been warned that when he didn’t deserve it, I’d get a red flag in my file. Three red flags, and I’d be fired.
Three flags had come and gone rather quickly. The captain had quietly boosted my flag limit to five.
I was now sitting pretty at four and doing pretty good, if I said so myself. When Garret was absolutely unbearable, I waited until after hours, followed him in the shadows, and then punched him in the mouth.
He’d had a lot of trips to the dentist in the last couple months. It hadn’t kept him from continuing to badger me.
The hot and sticky air coated my exposed skin the moment we left the cool of the air-conditioned building. I grimaced as I followed Clarissa to her car, and slipped my phone into the leather pouch at my waist. It jostled a bunch of casings filled with spells that were weak and mostly useless. The office kept us stocked up, and even though they weren’t great, they were free. I’d keep putting my hand out for free spells, no problem.
“I’ll debrief you while we’re on the way,” Clarissa said after we were in and she’d started up the engine.
“You don’t have to. I can just take a look for myself when we get there.”
“This one is tricky, though.” She gave a little laugh, condescending in nature. It was very mage-like of her. “It has some serious magical elements. The mage work will surely be above your expertise, since, you know, you aren’t a mage.”
She’d said that before. I didn’t bother to argue. It wasted time.
Instead, I stared out at the darkening sky, letting my mind wander as she drove us to the crime site. Being a secret department within the Brink law enforcement, we were often called in after the “real” detectives had taken their pictures, written their notes, and noticed all the little details. All but a select few thought we were psychics and mystics, and even those select few often made a show of rolling their eyes when we came on scene. It was quite the change from the bounty hunter days, let me tell you. There’d been no rolled eyes on that detail, but there’d been plenty of shifty eyes and shiftier perps. Chases had been the norm rather than the exception.
Perp. Since when did I call them that instead of a mark? This job had changed me for the worse. Made me soft. Made me follow rules.
“What was that sound for?” Clarissa asked as we parked beside a patrol car.
“What sound?” I asked, pushing open the door of her old Honda.
“The yelch sound. Is it the smell of my car? I’ve tried to clean it, but I can’t find the source.”
I was no stranger to the lingering smell of decay that was Clarissa’s car. It smelled like a poopy diaper had been dropped between the seats and left to rot. Being that her oldest was beyond diaper-wearing age, I couldn’t even speculate what had created the foul odor. But like everyone else familiar with the smell of her car, I knew to religiously breathe through my mouth when getting a ride from her.
“No, it wasn’t that. It’s nothing,” I said, waiting for her to drape her satchel filled with magical supplies over her shoulder.
“Oh good. I thought it was getting better. That’s great to hear.”
I ignored the comment so I wouldn’t have to lie.
“You have to leave the weapons in the car. We can’t take those in.” She pointed at the sword on my back.
“I have a license to carry.” I patted the gun strapped to my leg.
“Okay, but…” She pointed at my sword again. “The license doesn’t encompass a sword. I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to carry those.”
“I don’t see the problem. I’m a nerd. Nerds love swords. Everyone knows that.” I tsked and smiled good-naturedly. “We’re the weird stepchildren of the police department. They won’t question us.”
Without waiting for an answer, because I knew they would question us if given half a chance, as they had tried in the past, I stalked forward. People got confused with moving targets. One thing was for certain: I did not plan to take off my weapons. Anything could happen, and hopefully would. I didn’t want to have to run away because I had nothing to fight with.
A police officer stood in front of an open doorway blocked off with yellow tape. Upon seeing us, he put his hand out. “No one is permitted inside.”
“We’re the special investigation unit.” Clarissa held out a paper badge encased in a canvas slip—the kind with a plastic viewing area and strings that could be worn around the neck. The MLE office wouldn’t even splurge for plastic badges; ours were printed via laser jet.
I didn’t bother carrying mine. It made me feel ridiculous.
As expected, the policeman rolled his eyes and stepped to the side, lifting the tape marginally. Clarissa bent with stiff joints that seemed older than her years, and struggled to get under the tape.
“Really, guy?” I pushed him aside and pulled the tape off the doorway. “Who raised you, a pack of cavemen? Give her a break.”
“Hey!” he said, puffing up and reaching for his cuffs.
“Yes, see how that works out for you.” I grinned manically. I could get a new identity, but could he repair his shattered ego after he got beaten up by a girl? I doubted it.
He must’ve seen the crazy in my eyes: my natural urge for action coiled into a tight ball and straining for release. Wisely, he jerked his head for me to get going.
I saluted him and walked through the doorway, leaving him to worry about the tape.
“I have really stiff joints,” Clarissa said apologetically when she stopped in the entryway of the moderately sized house. “The doctor said that dropping some weight and exercising more would help. Easier said than done.”
“I hear ya.” I took in the surroundings, feeling a light buzz of residual magic. Either someone had done one or more larger spells in the area a while ago, or a lesser-powered spell more recently. From where I was standing, I couldn’t tell what kind of spell, or what the magic might’ve been used for. Hopefully I’d get a better impression once we moved further into the house.
Clarissa scoffed and took two small orbs from her satchel. “You’re skinny, young, and eat whatever you want. How do you hear me?”