“Yeah, we do.”
4
“What the hell happened?”Allison asked as she walked into the bar. Dwayne was hot on her heels, and behind him came two members of CSU with gear in hand.
Patrick waved them over, not moving from his spot halfway between where Marek and Jono stood near the bar and the uniformed officers who had responded from the local station to a call of shots fired. They’d quickly learned it wasn’t a problem they could handle.
The matter with the dead demon was preternatural in nature, which meant jurisdiction was automatically conferred to the Preternatural Crimes Bureau. That didn’t stop the officers from trying to take witness statements from a known werecreature in a hostile manner. Patrick hadn’t much cared for their attitude since their arrival and had promptly pulled the federal card on them when he pulled out his badge. Police hated that tactic, but Patrick wasn’t here to make friends.
“That case you called me in for? I know what kind of demon it is,” Patrick told her when she drew close.
“Are you serious?” Dwayne asked flatly. “Six months we’ve been running this case, and you waltz in and break it wide open in less than twenty-four hours? Unbelievable.”
“You wouldn’t have wanted to be the person dealing with the damned thing at the time. Trust me on that.”
“You obviously did.”
“And I’m very grateful for that since he’s the only reason we’re all alive tonight,” Marek interrupted sharply from where he was slouched against the bar, tapping away at his phone. “Where’s Casale?”
“On his way back to the PCB according to Dispatch,” Allison answered.
Marek grunted but didn’t look up from his phone. “Special Agent Collins? I need to talk to Casale.”
“Give me five minutes,” Patrick replied. He turned to face Dwayne and Allison, lowering his voice. “The demon is dead. You’re not getting anything but ashes. I’ll give Casale my report. You can read it when you get back to the station.”
“It’s Thursday night. This place is always packed. Where are all the witnesses?”
“Gone. I’m not going to guess how many were werecreatures, but they won’t want to be identified since none of them were god pack. Besides, you have witnesses. I’m bringing them back to the station with me.”
Allison frowned. “This doesn’t make any sense. This attack doesn’t follow the MO at all. A bar? It’s a public space. Everyone else was home alone behind a threshold when they died. Who was the demon after?”
Patrick tilted his head at where Marek was still typing away on his phone. Jono hadn’t said a word yet but was watching them with undisguised interest. More to the fact, he was watching Patrick, and the weight of Jono’s attention made Patrick very,veryaware of his presence.
“My money’s on Marek. Which means I need to get him behind some stronger wards for the next couple of hours while we sort everything out,” Patrick said.
Marek’s head finally lifted. “A couple ofhours?”
Patrick ignored him. “Scene is yours now.”
Dwayne and Allison shared a long look that Patrick couldn’t read. Finally, Allison pursed her lips before nodding. “We’ll tell the chief you’re on the way downtown while we handle everything here.”
Marek put his phone away and approached their small group. He thrust his hand out at Dwayne, looking more than a little annoyed. “Here. I made a copy of the security feed for you guys. Don’t go messing around with the computers back there without a warrant because I’m not giving you permission to take anything else.”
Dwayne took the flash drive from him with careful fingers. “Thanks.”
Marek looked as if he was ready to crawl out of his skin if he stayed there any longer. Patrick jerked his thumb at the entrance in a clear signal to leave. “We’ll talk later, Detectives.”
“Bye,” Allison replied, already turning her attention to the crime scene.
“You said your car is outside earlier,” Patrick said. “How far away is it?”
Marek would’ve led the way out of the bar if Jono hadn’t overtaken him. “I bought the parking spot from the City when I financed the bar for Emma and Leon. It’s out front.”
“I keep saying you should’ve just bought the whole bloody lot of them. Leon would quit whinging about parking if you did,” Jono said as they walked outside.
The vehicle parked right outside the bar was a glossy black Maserati GranTurismo that Patrick wouldn’t be averse to opening up on a long stretch of highway if he owned it. He wallowed in a serious case of car envy for a second or two as he took in the expensive vehicle.
Pays to be rich, he thought tiredly.
