“We have an estimated time of death, if that’s what you’re asking about.”
“When?”
“Yesterday, early afternoon. The ME will need to do further testing to pinpoint the exact hour.”
Patrick studied Youssef’s face with its sightless eyes, wondering if he’d been attacked or sacrificed, and if the latter, if it was willing or not.
“I know the media is going to latch onto the god pack civil war angle, but the Dominion Sect is in town and siding with Estelle and—” Patrick broke off to clear his throat. “Estelle’s god pack. That’s not something we can discount. Hunters and a mercenary mage were seen working with members of her pack during the subway attack.”
“What use would that group of assholes have for a god pack?”
“Plenty, if you’re using them as a proxy. Estelle doesn’t have clean hands in all of this. You know that.”
As far as Patrick knew, the federal government was still working on the case against her and Youssef from their business deal with Tremaine’s Night Court and the influx of shine on the street last year. No indictment had come down yet, but cases like that took time.
Patrick knew Youssef’s death meant they were running out of it.
“Neither does the side she’s fighting against,” Casale said pointedly.
Patrick bit his tongue so he wouldn’t say anything incriminating where everyone could hear. “Do you need me here?”
Casale studied Patrick for a long moment before shaking his head. “I think it’s best for everyone involved if you send me another SOA agent.”
Relief flowed through Patrick at Casale’s request, but it didn’t last. Yes, it was a way to get him clear of the murder case, but Henry was going to want to know why Patrick’s relationship with the PCB had suddenly soured. The SOA’s relationship with local police agencies wasn’t great sometimes, but Patrick had managed a decent connection with the PCB here in New York.
Seemed like it had finally run its course.
“I’ll have Henry send someone else over,” Patrick said.
He turned his back on Youssef’s body and walked away, knowing this only made all their problems worse.
* * *
“I’m removingyou from the trishula case since the damn thing has now become a murder weapon and the PCB requested a different agent for that case,” Henry said, angrily signing off on a form before handing it to Tiana. She took it and quickly left his office.
Patrick nodded. “Okay.”
Henry leaned back in his chair, a scowl on his face as he drummed his fingers against his desk. “Did Casale give a reason why he wanted someone else?”
“No.”
Which wasn’t really a lie. Casale hadn’t outright accused Patrick of meddling with an active investigation, but the older man would’ve if Patrick had stayed.
“Maybe he’s tired of your tendency toward wrecking cities.”
Patrick said nothing to that. The government might not like the property destruction he left in his wake sometimes, but he laid all the blame for that damage at the feet of the demons and monsters—human or otherwise—he was tasked with bringing in or taking out.
Henry reached for his coffee mug and took a long sip. Midmorning sunlight reflected off the building’s windows on the other side of the street, shining through the windows behind Henry. Patrick squinted against the glare.
“Am I back to desk duty?” he asked.
Henry set his coffee mug down. “For now. The director hasn’t changed her orders regarding your work.”
Patrick nodded, thinking of the numerous texts and missed calls he had yet to deal with on his phone regarding the packs. “Understood. I’ll—”
Tiana stuck her head into the office. “Sir? Breaking news conference with a statement from the New York City god pack is happening right now. You might want to see it.”
Henry opened a desk drawer and pulled out a remote. He aimed it at the television bolted to the wall and turned it on. The screen came to life, already on a news channel, and Henry raised the volume. Patrick twisted around in his chair to better see the screen. The reporter speaking on a live camera feed was in front of a brownstone building he recognized but had never been inside.
