More than a few went into the cold case category, including the mystery of the disappearing steam rollers. Without the steam rollers or any actual evidence of what had happened, who the true target was, or even a why, I suspected the case would go into the unsolved mysteries file for years to come.
All magic came at a price, and according to the handy notebook of general rules detectives needed to follow, we faced strict limitations on what information we could peel out of angels.
“Peeling is so unpleasant. You could ask, but we’d have to say we cannot tell you,” Sariel stated from somewhere behind me.
“If I put up a sign asking angels and archangels to please knock before teleporting in, would you heed it?” I asked once I remembered how to breathe.
“Probably not. It is quite interesting testing the little mortals for reactions.”
As I couldn’t imagine an archangel popping into my office without a good reason, I turned and asked, “How can I help you tonight, Sariel?”
“My brother is complaining that you are a free-willed being who has already overcome the aversions mortals suffer to test him. As he will complain for all eternity should he be thwarted, I informed him I would discuss the matter with you. I did not promise I would do anything more than discuss this matter with you. He seems to have forgotten to secure a more solid resolution for his current issue.”
What sort of horrible things had I done in a past life to deserve the attention of the Devil and his archangel brother? “Well, once it became clear that there was no real and substantial risk to those around Mr. Mortan, and that this curse is more of a magnet for these inevitable events, it seemed reasonable to allow him to resume as much of a normal life as possible while he decides how he wants to handle the situation. My job is to try to solve as many of these cases as I can—his is to decide how best to live his life. I can’t make those choices for him. As I have no idea what I’m doing, I want to start with organizing everything before asking another detective for help learning the ropes.”
“On that front, you will be fine.” The archangel sat on my couch and relaxed. “My brother is a sentimental creature and dislikes when people he likes suffer through regrets, and he feels you will regret allowing Mr. Mortan to walk out of your life at this stage. In truth, a little regret will not hurt you and will make whatever future you decide stronger and brighter. In the end, the results are similar, but one is better. My brother can be an impatient soul despite having more patience than most for many of his plans. Then again, you make his precious cindercorn happy, and he takes that seriously.”
“I smacked her between the ears today,” I informed the archangel. “I’m not sure how that could make someone happy, but I wasn’t fired.”
“That definitely would have made her happy. She does not like the awe-inspired reactions some give her. By smacking her between her ears, you demonstrated you had expectations of her—expectations that don’t involve you worshipping the ground she walks on. She still learns how to handle adoration. So, I am here to plant seeds of regret and curiosity. Whatwouldhave happened if you had done something like ask Mr. Mortan on a date?”
I raised a brow at the archangel, wondering what his expression might be if he possessed a head. “I would have experienced horrified embarrassment.”
The archangel’s laughter chimed. “I was more thinking an abandonment of your virgin ways, but this is also accurate. While he is not an incubus and not gifted with an incubus’s magic and skill, you will find him to be a considerate lover. He abhors the idea of hurting someone, which is what led to you meeting. For some unasked for advice, if you would like him to make it hurt good, you will have to do certain things, like beg. Sufficient begging will bring out his wilder side. Some spice is always good for a relationship.”
What the hell? “Are you, an archangel, offering me advice on my non-existent sex life?”
“Absolutely. While I am an archangel, I would like to remind you that your chief is my grandson, and there are certain mechanics involved in such things.”
Right. I had known that, too. “Forget I said anything. Wouldn’t you say Alec deserves a say in his fate, Sariel?”
“Absolutely. That is why I only promised to discuss this matter with you. But I would like to remind you that you, also, deserve a say in your fate. But it is not your nature to take the offense when it comes to men, and you do not like aggressive men.”
I shrugged. “You don’t work as long as I have as a cop without seeing the darker side of humanity. And if anything, the men who are the recipients of abuse have an even harder time than the women. Society has told them they are failures if they admit they have been victims. Women are expected to be the victims, so there is less shame in that. That’s not right, but it’s harder identifying when men are the victim. They work to hide the truth.”
“Yes, they do. But since I am here offering free advice, your plan to get closure for those files on your desk is a wise one. You will reap the rewards for your hard work in the future.”
Well, that was something. “Anything else I should know? Please consider that a request for additional information rather than a rhetorical question you simply answer yes to without elaboration.”
“It did not take you long to learn the truth of that,” the archangel replied in an amused tone. “There is something to be said for fresh starts, so I recommend you clear off as much from your desk as possible in a timely fashion. Most of these cases can be recorded and filed away, a few are good starter cases for you to get your feet wet in your new career path, and the rest shall be cold cases determined to thwart you for some time to come.”
“I don’t suppose you could sort those into the appropriate piles for me, could you?” I gestured to the mess of filing boxes taking over my office. “You could consider it making up for sucker punching me in the gut.”
The archangel laughed. “That was quite rude of me. You are a bold human. It is easy to see why my brother likes you. But as for your question, yes. I can. I will even be considerate and label which are which. It is a small matter, and it does make up for my brother’s meddling, so it balances the scales nicely. I will leave you with this: there are better days ahead.”
The archangel snapped his fingers, and a flash of golden light enveloped my office. When it dimmed, Sariel had vanished. The boxes had also vanished, leaving neat stacks of files in sequestered piles across my office. Notes written on golden cards declared what was in each pile, offering me direction on how best to proceed with my time.
I began with the starter cases within my capacity to solve, as I understood I had a great deal to learn in little time.
Everything else could wait.
Thanks to Sariel’smasterful sorting of my files, I conquered the first few cases with relative ease, asking for help from several of the veteran detectives as I went through the process of questioning everyone involved and associated with the murders. The first one proved to be the easiest; cameras had caught the murder on tape, the woman’s death had been witnessed by numerous people, and the culprit, once apprehended, caved under the first sign of real pressure.
Jealousy coupled with abusive tendencies had cost a woman her life, an unfortunately common occurrence that never failed to make my heart hurt.
In his twisted, selfish, and hateful mind, if the killer couldn’t have her, no one could, thus leaving the world bereft of a bright soul many had cherished.
Solving the murder wouldn’t bring her back from the dead, but acquiring justice might one day bring peace to those left behind in a senseless act of greed.
