No, never seen him.Percival wiggles his little nose. It’s a good thing he’s so damned cute.
“But I thought you said he wasthe dead man’s companion,” I reply, trying to mimic Percival’s rather formal tone.
I did, he states.
I pinch my temples with one hand, shielding my eyes. “Can you explain why you think the men knew each other then?”
I really don’t know how you get on without us!Percival’s tone would suggest he’s exasperated.Their scents are mingled, not as much as yours and your trove of men, but enough to know they spent long spans of time together.
I look over at the guy in Dad’s truck. He’s completely relaxed, and I wonder if he knows his friend is dead or if he had something to do with it.
“Thanks, Percival.” I make sure he knows I’m grateful, even if he insulted me while helping.
Chapter 19
Just the tip.
Ikeep the information from Percival to myself as Dad starts asking the man about his identification. “I’m going to need some form of ID if you want that lawyer, otherwise I’ll hold you until I can sort out your identity.”
“I don’t have an ID,” the man says, sounding bored.
“You have nothing that will tell me your name?” Dad asks skeptically.
“Other than my word, no.”
“Okay, name and birthdate?” Dad questions routinely, as if he’s not expecting the guy to tell the truth.
“Mark LaPointe,” he answers, then rattles off some numbers I don’t catch. Dad makes a note of it on his notepad.
“Why did you leave the traffic stop before Officer Baldwin released you?”
“I gave you my name, now I want a lawyer,” Mark, if we believe that’s his name, answers.
A squad car pulls up from the opposite direction and blocks off most of the road, though it’s not a heavily traveled one. Dad motions for Mark to slide out of his truck as the arriving officer gets out of his patrol car and opens the rear door. “I did a quick pat down, but he needs to be searched at the station,” Dad tells the officer, then adds, “I need to take care of this car. Make sure our guest is comfortable until I get back to the station to talk to him.”
The cop, who I’m assuming is Officer Moore, nods his head in understanding, then he checks to make sure Mark is all tucked into the backseat behind the cage before closing the door and facing my dad again. “I’ll call ahead and let them know I’m on my way so they will be ready to assist.” The cop is young, probably my age, but he’s not anyone I know.
“Good. Call Scotty in too, I told him to hang back when I pursued the car, and I want all hands on deck. Something doesn’t feel right with this one.” Dad sets his gaze on Mark, who’s now locked up in the back of the patrol car. I’d have to agree. He’s too cold, too calm, and it makes me feel like he knows something we don’t.
As the squad car drives away, Dad pulls out his cell phone and makes a call. “Hey, JJ, I need you to haul a vehicle over to the yard for an impound.” JJ runs the only service station in town. At least I’ll be able to find out if Remy had my car towed. If he didn’t, I’m betting Mickey probably did, the cagey old broad. I don’t think Dad had the time to cruise by her place to check before coming to the library to let me in early.
Dad gives JJ our location and hangs up. Before he even tucks the phone back in his pocket, he’s approaching the late model two door and ducking his head inside to start a preliminary search. He hits the button to pop the trunk, and I’m not the only one drawn over to see what we can find.
“Wait,” I caution Remy when he reaches for a small duffle bag. “Any of this stuff could be spelled. The charm to kill the electronics and shut down the car wouldn’t have cleared anything else.”
“What are you doing? You just told him not to touch it,” Grayson demands when I go to reach for the same bag.
“I have protection spells, plus it’s my job, my risk to take.” I meet his stare. I’m not sure why he even spoke up. You’d think he would be happy if I pulled a spell, since it would save him from having to deal with me.
“Can’t you tell if there’s a spell?” Felix asks, nudging his way between Grayson and Remy.
“Most of the time, but you know how some charms work. They have to be engaged with a catalyst. Hence the protection.” I wiggle my fingers, showing off my rings.
“Somebody else should be doing this, someone more qualified.” Grayson looks at my dad. “Are you going to let her do this?” His eyes are wide, almost like he’s nervous.
“Nothing is going to happen to you, but step back if you’re worried,” I mutter, then grab the bag out of the trunk. A hand wraps around the handle right next to mine and tugs the strap clear from my fingers. When I look over my shoulder, Grayson is holding the bag and breathing hard.
“What the hell?” I ask angrily, even though the brief touch was enough to know the bag isn’t spelled.
