Page 80 of Dead Beat

“Possibly.”

Dawes pressed her lips together, then said, “The bodies buried in his garden. You don’t think they’re all his victims.”

“It would explain why the Lethe board let him operate for so long.” Turner held up a finger and dipped his chin toward the hallway.

Alex appeared a moment later. In the bright light of the kitchen, her fatigue was obvious, the dark circles beneath her eyes like bruised half-moons. “Dawes, can Mercy take your salt collar? We can put something else together for you at Il Bastone, right?”

“She’s awake?” Dawes asked, reaching beneath the collar of her sweatshirt. She tugged at the velvet ribbon that held the salt lace in place.

“Yeah, she wants to take a car home.”

“Is that a good idea?” Darlington asked.

“No.”

Alex took the collar and disappeared without another word. It seemed forgiveness was in short supply tonight.

They sat in silence and watched through the window as Alex led Mercy down the front path. Darlington noted the way they stood at the curb, the distance between them.

A hatchback pulled up a moment later and Mercy slid into the back seat. Alex raised a hand in farewell. The car pulled away, but Alex remained, her hand suspended in the air, still waiting for someone or something. When she finally let it drop, Darlington felt a terrible sense of defeat.

Dawes cleared her throat. “We might not want to be staring at her through the window when she comes back.”

He knew he should probably let it be but instead he rose and went to the door. She was trudging up the path when he opened it.

“Hurry up,” he called to her. “Dawes made tea.”

He thought he saw her shoulders lift a bit, or maybe that was wishful thinking. But he couldn’t bear the sight of her alone in the cold.

“Turner doesn’t think his drowning victim drowned,” he said as they entered the kitchen.

“I didn’t say that,” Turner corrected. “Not exactly.”

Alex slid into a chair. “You did something back on the beach,” she said to Dawes. “With my hellfire.”

Dawes pinked beneath her freckles. “An exaggeration spell. I call it the Auxesis Working.”

“Thank you. It was right on time.” She set a small black box on the table. “Reiter gave that to Mercy for me.”

“Did you look?” Dawes asked.

She nodded. “It’s a ring.”

Dawes picked up the box. She shrieked.

“And a finger,” Alex amended.

Dawes set the box down. “Is this ever going to end?”

“We all know how it ends,” Alex said. “Someone wins. Someone loses. Someone dies. Someone gets to live.”

Turner’s brows rose. “I’m guessing Mercy didn’t take being kidnapped in stride.”

“She did not.” Alex bumped the box toward him. “Can you … I don’t know, run tests on it or something? DNA or fingerprints?

“Not without alerting the entire New Haven PD.”

“There are scrying spells,” said Darlington. “But this may back up your theory.”