“Wait…” Malachi spun to fully face him now, ignoring Chuck’s protests. “I went to check on the evidence this morning. I needed to look at that sword Blake used. It wasn’t there. None of it was. And then I looked for Chuck’s dad’s case files, and those are missing too. When I sniffed the shelf, I detected the same darkness that’s on you from association with your son.” He stared at Nathan hard, confused and suspicious about the curveball they’d received. He was relieved they at least had the files he had previously liberated tucked away in Chuck’s dresser at home. This turn of events had just thrown another wrench into an already sticky situation.
Nathan held up both palms to fend off any accusations as he quickly shook his head. “I’m telling you, I didn’t go near evidence. I’m on temporary leave right now—just like Chuck—while this gets figured out. I wouldn’t even be allowed in there. I came in and went straight to holding to see Blake. They only let me back there because they know me. I guess they felt sorry for me.”
“But… if you didn’t take that evidence…” Malachi quietly mused as he turned back to stare at Chuck. “Then who did?” He huffed and sighed in irritation, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seriously, after two centuries, I get feelings, a lover, and a fucking whodunit worthy of Agatha Christie herself all at the same time.”
Chuck laughed low in her throat as she slowed for a red light.
“Two centuries?” Glenda inquired with a bawdy chuckle that shook her bangle bracelets. “Well, well, Mr. Malachi. Robbing the cradle a bit, aren’t we?”
Blowing air through his lips in a rude noise, Malachi glared at her. “Maybe if Nathan ever asksyouout. But in demon years, Kelly and I are essentially the same age. Focus, witch. If Nathan didn’t take the files, we need to find out who.”
“Agreed,” Chuck offered quickly, before Glenda could offer another rebuttal. It was just as well because Malachi and the witch could trade snarky barbs and insults all night and still be friends in the morning. Butthe clock was ticking. “We can question Jaxon about it when we get to his place.”
Malachi grimaced at the thought of voluntarily entering the douche palace of delights, aka Jaxon’s apartment, but knew it was necessary. He only hoped the man didn’t wear Affliction shirts when he was off duty. When Chuck called to ask if she could come over, Jaxon was wary but quickly became happily surprised and accepted.
Turning into the parking lot of the complex where he lived, Chuck’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. She took a deep, calming breath before easing the car into a guest spot. As she turned off the car, she blew out a heavy gust of air and rubbed her palms over her legs in a nervous gesture until Malachi squeezed her hand in reassurance. Nodding, she said, “Let’s do this.”
Jaxon’s expression had gone from pleased to see Kelly, confused to see Glenda, resigned to see Malachi—or Evan as he knew him—and downright flabbergasted to find Nathan Bennett at the back of the group. The play of emotions running so clearly over his face had Malachi bouncing on his toes in glee until Chuck stomped his instep.
“Sorry,” she offered sweetly with a bright, fake smile. “Thought I saw a spider.”
Recovering himself, Jaxon shook his head and gestured silently for the group to come inside. Once they’d all made it into the living room of the small bachelor pad, he shut the door and spun to face them. He pointed at Chuck and then the others, seeming to be deciding what to say beforecrossing his arms over his chest. “Anyone need a drink?” he offered in a flat, dutiful tone.
Malachi glanced around the surprisingly neat, tidy place and suspected Momma Raifson would have smacked him on the back of his head if he didn’t offer refreshments to guests. Invited or otherwise. He was about to ask for something, but a glare from Chuck had him sighing in disappointment as he shook his head along with the others.
“Jax,” Chuck started, “I’m sorry for the subterfuge, but some big things are going on, and we need your help.”
Immediately, Jaxon perked up and rushed to sit beside her on the sofa. His expression went from confused to adoring in less than one second. Malachi leaned forward from her other side and stared unblinkingly at the other man to remind him of his presence.
“What’s going on? I have to admit, I was a little surprised to see Bennett here with you,” Jaxon admitted, then glanced at Glenda and did a double-take. “Wait,” he gasped. “Weren’t you the lady from the lobby? With the glass?” At her brief nod and small wave, he leaned back. “Hang on, I have a feelingI’mgoing to need a drink for this. Beer good for everyone?” At their nods, he stood and took a second to collect himself before sauntering into the kitchen.
In his absence, Chuck whirled to Malachi. “Anything?” she demanded.
Slowly, Malachi sighed with reluctance. For Chuck’s sake, he didn’t want Jaxon to be involved. But there was no denying the dark haze surrounding her friend. “It’s a haze, like on Nathan. It’s new too, because it certainly wasn’t there this morning. I would have seen it.”
“Seen what?” Jaxon asked as he hurried back in, an armful of beer bottles in his grip. He passed them out and settled back in before tipping his bottle towards Malachi. “Did you see something that helps explain this?” Now he waved the bottle at the others before taking a long pull.
Taking her own fortifying drink, Chuck turned to face her friend. “Jax, we’re here because tonight two men tried to break into my home, intending to kill me.” She held up a staying hand when he jolted and began to pepper her with questions. “Obviously, they didn’t succeed. But my problem is that when I asked them who put them up to it, they described someone who sounded familiar. And the sketch, well, was unsettling really. Glenda?” She glanced at her friend, who handed over the sketch she’d produced from Terry’s description.
“What the fuck?” Jaxon exclaimed as he slammed his beer on the table and studied the paper in his trembling grasp, blood draining from his face. “Chuck, Bennett, you gotta believe me, I didn’t hire someone to kill you! Why would I do that? We’re friends! You even helped Marla get the courage to ask me out. I would never… please Chuck!” He grasped her hands in his own now, the sketch falling to the floor. “I promise you!” He glanced at the others, desperation in his eyes as his pulse pounded in his throat, visible against the pale skin.
“Dammit,” Malachi muttered. “He’s telling the truth.”
Leaning forward, Jaxon grabbed Malachi’s arm and nodded frantically. “Yes! I am! Thank you, Evan, for believing me.”
Disdainfully prying Jaxon’s fingers from his arm, Malachi rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a choice; it really wasn’t you. Someone stole your image to deflect the blame and send us on a wild goose chase. Just like Terry was using Nick’s image and voice. Jaxon, after you left us at the station this morning, where did you go? Who did you meet with? Tell us everything you did today.”
Sitting back with a puzzled frown, Jaxon studied him. “Us? I didn’t see you at the station. And who’s Terry? Nick? Someone please explain this to me?” He glanced at Bennett and pointed at him.
“Look, Raifson,” the other officer sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. “This is going to be hard to believe, but there’s a lot at stake here. You’re better off not knowing the details but just understanding that larger forces than our local precinct are at work, and you’re being drawn in as a pawn or distraction of some sort. Let’s just start from this morning when you saw Chuck and Malachi in the parking lot. Tell us your movements, who you spoke with until about five this evening. Anything stand out? Anyone new? Different?”
Slowly, Jaxon shook his head and pulled on his lower lip with his thumb and forefinger, thinking hard. “I just worked my regular shift today. I saw everyone who’s in the shop as usual. And spoke with a few family members about ongoing case statuses. No one new there. Umm, wait.” He snapped his fingers. “There’s the new neighbor upstairs. She was unloading her car when I got here and trying to lug a giant box up the steps. I offered to carry it for her. She was grateful and offered me a glass of wine, which I declined, and then she asked if she could take my picture. Said she was an artist and liked to collect interesting faces.” He shrugged. “I didn’t see any harm in it, so I agreed. She snapped two photos on her phone and thanked me. That was it. Couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.”
Glenda rummaged in her oversized handbag and pulled out another sketch. “This wasn’t her by chance, was it?” She held out the drawing of Amaryllis from earlier.
Gingerly pinching the paper in his fingers, as if afraid it would bite him, Jaxon stared at the image and groaned. “Shit, that is her.”
Launching himself off the couch, Malachi grabbed Jaxon’s shirt and yanked him nose to nose with him. “Which unit?” he growled.
