“And since the KPD hasn’t notified us, we have to consider that a faction of the department is involved. This could get messy.”
“I’ll add the possibilities to my reports,” I said. “Oh. And with the proximity to the witch circle, we have to consider the possibility that the thief at Pilot Gas was a witch hiding under a very good glamour.”
“I have to hit the sack,” T. Laine said, groaning. “Morning comes early, so I’ll use the mattress room. Later.” She left the room.
Tandy nodded and the body mechanics of his boss fell away. Tandy returned to the coffee tray and added cream to his mug.Interesting. Tandy was very, very interesting.
•••
Rick came into the office before daybreak. He was walking more slowly than usual and dropped by his office before joining us in the conference room, where he filled his own mug. It was painted with a black leopard on the shiny finish, with the lettersSAC—special agent in charge. As he poured coffee he said, “I read your report on the lack of interagency communication between a certain sheriff’s office detective working up possible paranormal crime, and Unit Eighteen. Good summation, Ingram. I sent it up-line, but Soul and FireWind were called to Maine, working a crime scene involving the Master of the City of New York. I doubt either of them will address the issues anytime soon, as it might require a face-to-face with KPD and the sheriff’s office.”
Tandy was watching Rick’s careful movements. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
Even I could tell Rick was lying, but Tandy didn’t call him on it, saying instead, “Do you thinkwecan wait until they get back to address the issue of the local LEOs not alerting us to the presence of a black-magic user in the area?”
“No. I don’t. I’d like Ingram to call her friend at the FBI and prime the pump.”
“I don’t have a friend at the FBI.”
“Sure you do. In your report you described her as a ‘Coffee addict going on a four-hour withdrawal. Dark-skinned, African-American female FBI agent, jacket and pants, hair cropped close. History of familial witches.’ She called you her telepathic new best friend. Ring any bells?”
“Oh. Special Agent Margot Racer.” Margot had a strong truth-sensing ability, which I had left out of my report, though I had told Rick privately. It seemed important that my boss know when he was talking to a walking, talking lie detector. Like Tandy. “But she isn’t my friend.”
“Racer called—how many times was it, Dyson, while Ingram was out on disability?” Rick paced along in front of the window, sipping, just as Tandy had done during the long night.
“Five times,” Tandy said. “The last time was a month ago.”
I squinted up at Rick, a silhouette against the graying skyline. Margot Racer calling me was strange. Unless... unless she had more than a strong truth-sense. I had wondered if she was a budding, true empath. But what if she was a budding precog instead? Or something even more arcane. “Why did she call?”
“Your disability was a secret only from your family. Racer called to see if you were getting better. Why not call her back. See what she knows.”
I frowned, thinking. I wasn’t sure how to do that—call up someone and question them.
“Ingram?”
“I can do that.” But even I could hear the uncertainty in my tone.
Rick smiled, not unkindly. “Give her a call and go for coffee. Offer to share what’s happening in return for any info she might dig up on the local LEO who isn’t passing along information. It’s called quid pro quo, Ingram. You don’t have to do a spa day or become BFFs or anything.”
“Okay. I can do that,” I repeated, but more certainly this time.
Rick took his seat and rubbed his head. Tandy looked from Rick’s hand, massaging his temples, to me. Rick was in pain. “Are you okay?” I asked the boss.
“Headache.” Rick dropped his hand and said, “Kent’s having no luck tracking the witch via arcane means. We somehowgotluckylast night and found a second black-magic circle. I don’t believe in luck. Is it possible that we were lured to the most recent circle? I want you to contact your friend with the Mithrans in addition to talking to Racer. See what they know.”
He wantedmeto call the vampires. I had expected him to contact Ming of Glass.
I studied Rick. There were dark circles under his eyes, his skin was sagging, and the fine wrinkles that used to be laugh lines had become deeper, downward frown lines. “How long have you been having headaches?” I asked. “Now that we know there have been circles for a while, do we need to posit that the circles are giving you headaches?”And making you act fidgety,I thought.
Rick’s tone was sharp. “I don’t know.” He shrugged slightly and amended, “A couple of months.”
I considered the timelines of the witch circles. “The same time as the circles. Okay. Take some Tylenol. I’ll make the calls, then I’m heading home. While I’m gone, the team needs to ask our boss some pointed questions about witch circles.” I glared at them and left the men sitting in the conference room, Tandy watching Rick, Rick looking ornery. At my desk I made calls. Yummy was on the security team of the new Master of the City of Knoxville. I got a voice mail, but as it was after sunrise, I didn’t expect to hear back until after dusk. The voice mail left on the service of FBI Special Agent Margot Racer was more tentative. “Hi. Um. This is Nell Ingram. I thought we might have coffee tomorrow. If you want. If you have time. If you’re in town. And not working a case. And, um. Yeah. Okay. ‘Bye.” I gave my number and hung up. “And that didn’t sound like a twelve-year-old desperately trying to make a new friend, at all.”
Being a PsyLED special agent sounded all exciting, but most of the job was combing through boring databases, talking to people, and brainstorming, trying to make sense of disparate and mismatching puzzle pieces. And working long, tiring hours through the night and into the morning. I grabbed my gear and clattered down the stairs into the dawn, looking for Occam’s car in his parking spot, just in case he was getting to work early. Empty. I had hoped to see him, even if only just briefly. And wasn’t that like that twelve-year-old beinglovesick. Sometimes it was as if I’d never grown up at all. I was halfway to my truck when I heard a scrape behind me.
And the world exploded into brilliant white sparks on a black sky.
