Mercenary Read online

  I guessed what he meant from his tone. My magic rose to my call and I threw out a hand, sending a net of silver light arcing toward the closet, feeling for spells and charms. The boots lit up in muted shades of green light, and I raised my eyebrows. “The boots are spelled to help him run faster.”

  Vincent nodded. “And as you said, they are rather the worse for wear. My guess is our friend is wearing a new pair, and saving these for backup.”

  Hope fluttered to life in my chest. “That’s encouraging. Those boots would definitely help him get away from a sidhe.” Another object caught my eye, a staff leaning against the corner of the closet by the boots. It looked similar to the staff Vincent carried. Without touching it, I leaned closer, squinting at the pattern carved into the wood. “It looks like a bird.”

  “There’s more.” Vincent walked past us out the bedroom door and I followed after him, leaving Liam to follow me.

  The wizard stopped at the bathroom and pointed inside. “The contacts. Look in the medicine cabinet.”

  I slipped into the bathroom and opened the cabinet as instructed. A pair of unopened contacts sat on one of the sparse shelves, and I flexed my magic at them. A brighter silver glow exploded over the small pieces of plastic. “It’s a spell to improve the clarity of your sight.” I paused, then stared at Vincent. “Jeff wasn’t just a ranger in the U.S. army. He’s a wild magic ranger.”

  “Wait. He had magic?” Liam asked.

  I pivoted and stalked out of the bathroom, heading back for the bedroom. “Yes, but not as much as a witch or a wizard. A ranger’s magic mostly enhances his skills, tracking, fighting, that sort of thing. But he would have some healing magic, and he’d have the power he needed to hide—even from a sidhe.”

  Liam was right on my heels as I entered the bedroom. “So you think he could have survived the attack and hidden from Nathan.”

  I studied the window, the well-worn paint at the edge where someone had gripped it over and over to open and close it. “Let me put it this way. Jeff could be in this room right now, hiding from even your senses.”

  That gave the werewolf pause, and his nostrils flared.

  “He can hide himself from your sense of smell.” I spotted something on the floor under the window and bent over to pick it up. “A feather.”

  “Raven,” Liam confirmed. “Very common in Ohio.”

  I remembered the bird carved into the staff and realization dawned. “He has an animal companion,” I said softly. “A bird. A smart bird.”

  I looked at Vincent again and found him smiling.

  “I think there is a very good chance our friend is still alive,” he said. “A living witness, who—gods willing—is not bound to secrecy.”

  I nodded and looked around. “If he is a ranger, then that explains why the house doesn’t look very lived in. He probably didn’t spend much time here. Did you find his camping gear?”

  “It’s in the spare room. He has the good stuff, nothing cheap and nothing superfluous. The equipment is the most expensive part of the entire house, and it’s well-used.”

  “He probably spends most of his time outside,” I noted. “Most rangers I’ve known don’t like to be indoors for too long.”

  Vincent paused. “There is something else.”

  He stepped toward the bedroom door and swung it shut.

  I stared at the array of pictures taped to the back of the bedroom door. “Oh.”

  The pictures were of Barbara. Nothing creepy or stalker-ish, nothing that looked like it had been taken without her permission. No surveillance photos. They were all pictures of her smiling into the camera, a few with Jeff himself. They were pictures that would have been at home in a collage frame of old friends. Except for one, small detail.

  Ninety percent of the photos had a part of someone’s arm or body near Barbara where someone had clearly been cut out of the picture. I was guessing Roger.

  “So he has pictures of another man’s wife, and he’s cut the husband out of every picture.” Liam crossed his arms. “That husband also being his best friend.”

  “There’s more.” Vincent walked to the bed and picked up a plain bubble-padded envelope from the small shelf built into the headboard. “I’ve already dusted for prints, and tested for DNA, so you can touch them.” He handed them to Liam.

  “Any luck with the DNA?” Liam reached into the envelope and pulled out a stack of pictures.

  “Sadly, no. Whoever handled them wore gloves. The rest of the house was surprisingly clean as well.”

  I came to stand beside him to look at the pictures. Unlike the photos on the door, these photos didn’t have any suggestion of Roger in them, no hand or shoulder that indicated he’d been in the picture and cut out. And unlike the others, these pictures weren’t just of Barbara.

  I stared down at Ian Walsh’s smiling face. He was in all the photos too, him and Barbara. They were taken at restaurants and in hotel lobbies, and in one case, a museum. In most of them, Ian and Barbara were both dressed up in a suit and nice dress respectively, but there were a few more casual pictures that looked like they’d been taken at a restaurant.

  “Nothing too incriminating,” I noted. “These all look like perfectly innocent photos of two friendly colleagues. Ian and Barbara probably attended a lot of the same social functions, and they’ve already said they’re friends.”

  Liam flipped through the pictures, pausing when he reached the last two.

  “That doesn’t look good,” Peasblossom said.

  The last two pictures were different from the rest, not in content, but in what had been done to them. They were duplicate photos of Barbara and Ian sitting together in a restaurant. In one, Ian’s face had been burned away, leaving a hole with fragile, burnt edges. In the other it was Barbara’s face that had been ruined.

  Liam turned the pictures over. “Choose,” he said, reading the handwritten notation on the back of the photos. He flipped over the other photo. “They both say the same thing.”

  “Choose what?” Peasblossom asked.

  “I’m not sure what it means,” Vincent admitted. “I was hoping it might make more sense to you.”

  “It’s definitely a threat,” Liam said. “Someone is telling Jeff he needs to make a choice between Barbara and Ian. Based on the burned out faces, it seems like he’s being given a choice between which one gets hurt.”

  “But choose what?” I asked. “What do they want him to do?” I frowned at the pictures. “Are they saying he has to kill one of them? Are they saying they’re going to kill one of them and it’s up to him which one? Or are they trying to blackmail him into doing something, and threatening to kill one of them if he doesn’t?”

  “Do we know what Jeff’s opinion of Ian was?” Vincent asked.

  “No. Ian is close with Barbara and Roger, but she didn’t say anything about Jeff’s relationship with him.”

  “Considering we know for certain that Jeff was at Acme when Roger saw Stasya murdered, I’d say we should consider the possibility that Jeff saw who did it.” Liam gestured with the photos. “This could be whoever was responsible telling Jeff to keep his mouth shut.”

  “But why write ‘choose’ on the back?” Peasblossom asked. “If they just want him to shut up, why not write ‘keep your mouth shut’ or something like that?”

  “The pictures were burnt,” Liam pointed out.

  “You think Aaban did it?” I asked. “Anyone with a lighter or a match could do that.”

  Liam sniffed the photos. “Not a match or a lighter.”

  “Still, a lot of creatures can use fire. The fire elemental could have done this.”

  “I could do it,” Vincent pointed out. “As could any first year wizard.”

  “Or witch,” I added.

  Liam tapped the photos. “What if Aaban did kill Stasya? Jeff saw him. Aaban binds Roger so he can’t tell anyone.”

  “But Jeff gets away, and Aaban can’t find him,” I added. “So he can’t shut him up.”

&n
bsp; Vincent spoke up. “So our suspect comes to his house and he sees the photos of Barbara on the door. He guesses Jeff’s affection for Barbara and knows he can threaten her to keep Jeff quiet.”

  Liam waved one of the photos. “Maybe he’s telling Jeff, either you pin the murder on Ian, or I’ll kill Barbara. Jeff has to choose who to sacrifice.”

  “It’s a theory,” I said slowly. “But we have no proof.” I glanced back at the door. “There’s something that doesn’t feel right about any of this. Jeff is a ranger, and this house is just storage, a temporary place between camping trips. So why have something so deeply personal plastered all over a door?” I bit the inside of my lip. “Not to mention, I don’t know many adults who hang photos like that. That’s more of a teenager tactic.”

  “If he was trying to put the picture somewhere he could see them but would never risk anyone else seeing them, then it makes perfect sense,” Peasblossom pointed out.

  “Whoever left this envelope here was obviously in the house,” Vincent pointed out. “There’s no stamp and no address, and I didn’t find any fingerprints. It would be one thing for whoever left it to wear gloves, but I doubt Jeff would have been wearing gloves when he picked it up, so if he opened it, then his prints should be on it.”

  “Whoever left it couldn’t have been certain Jeff would come back in time to see it,” Liam added. “For all they knew, Jeff might have passed out at a friend’s house and when he heals, he’ll head right for the Vanguard.”

  “Putting a binding on Roger to not talk about the Otherworld isn’t enough to get the Vanguard involved. More likely, they’re worried Anton Winters will find out who put the binding on him. Whoever did this is costing the vampire an important asset, and he won’t look kindly on that.” I stared at the envelope. “Maybe they’re covering their bases. They could be leaving packages in places they think Jeff would find them if he was in hiding.”

  “Or maybe he’s not meant to find them,” Liam suggested. “This could be part of a set up to discredit him.”

  Vincent nodded thoughtfully. “So the killer knows Jeff saw him, and he wants to make sure that, if Jeff did survive and he turns up ready to expose him, then whoever he tells will see this evidence and won’t believe him.”

  “That only makes sense if it was Ian,” I pointed out. “Based on what we’ve found here, he could argue that Jeff was forced to point the finger at him or else risk harm to the woman he loves.”

  “But that would only work if Jeff is dead and not around to contradict it,” Liam said grimly.

  My gaze landed on the feather and I snapped my fingers. “The bird. Jeff has an animal companion, a bird. If the bird got away, then we have another witness.”

  “Wouldn’t the bird stay with Jeff? Even if he’s injured?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe Jeff would send his companion to look after his closest friend?” I perked up. “There was a raven at Roger’s. Obviously it could have been unrelated, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Jeff’s bird is watching over Roger.”

  Liam straightened. “You think it might be at the hospital.”

  “Scath’s there,” Peasblossom pointed out. “If there’s a raven hanging about Roger’s room, she’ll know.”

  “Scath?” Liam asked.

  I sighed. “Long story, I’ll explain in the car.”

  Vincent nodded. “Tell me what you find. I’m going back to my lab.”

  We said our goodbyes and Liam and I headed for the car. As soon as I closed my door, I stopped and took a deep breath, centering myself as I called my magic.

  “What are you doing?”

  I tuned Liam out as I brushed magic over my body, starting with my head and moving down to my feet. My long black hair paled to blonde and shortened up to barely brush my shoulders, my brown eyes brightened a few shades to a paler brown, and my cheekbones sharpened. After a second of hesitation, I added the illusion of makeup, blush, eyeshadow, mascara, the works. My leggings faded to dark brown pants, and my black T-shirt billowed out and became a neatly creased beige button down. I turned to Liam as the hat formed on my head, and the patch of the Cleveland Metroparks Rangers blossomed on my sleeve.

  “You’re going to impersonate a ranger?” he asked.

  “Barbara is not my number one fan right now. She won’t tell us anything if she knows it’s me.”

  After a brief moment of consideration, Liam twisted in his seat to grab something from the back. I finished my spell in time to see him pull a small duffel bag from under his seat. He unzipped it and retrieved what looked like a spare work shirt, complete with the Cleveland Metropark Rangers patch on the shoulder.

  Without a word, he began unbuttoning his shirt. I tensed, torn between trying to appear casual as he disrobed—again—and looking away to give him some semblance of privacy. I’d always known shifters had a higher comfort level with casual states of undress, but it was one thing to know it as a fact, and another to find myself repeatedly getting an eyeful of the alpha’s naked chest.

  Not that I objected to the view. But knowing Liam’s enhanced senses were as good as a blinking red light over my head if I had any sort of biological reaction made the entire experience socially awkward.

  “You take your clothes off a lot,” Peasblossom said, a hint of accusation in her voice.

  Liam paused with his uniform shirt half buttoned. “Excuse me?”

  “You keep taking your shirt off in front of my witch.” Peasblossom gave him a sly look. “I think you’re showing off.”

  I couldn’t read the werewolf’s facial expression, which was impressive, because I was rather good at body language. He finished buttoning his shirt, then slid the key into the ignition and started the car. “Do you know which hospital they took him to?”

  “They’ll have taken Roger to Borvo Springs,” I answered immediately, relieved for the change in topic.

  Liam nodded and pulled out of the driveway. “So why does Mrs. Temple dislike you?”

  “It was a misunderstanding.” I sighed. “Maybe a few misunderstandings.” I explained my experience with Barbara, beginning with how I’d first met fake-Barbara, and ending with the very real Barbara’s excellent aim with a firearm.

  “She shot you?”

  “She’s a cautious woman,” I said dryly. “She’s also paranoid, deceitful, and manipulative. She’s not stupid, and she’s more likely to lie for the sake of keeping you in the dark, on the off chance you turn out to be an enemy, than to tell the truth that might get her husband the help he needs.”

  “Interesting. Did you use any spells on her? Like the one you used on Anthony Catello?”

  I shook my head. “Those spells are gentle, meant to influence someone to ease their guard down. With someone as paranoid as Barbara, someone who’s expecting to be lied to and manipulated, it would take a stronger push. And anything stronger isn’t as subtle, and there’s always a chance of negatively affecting the mind.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I don’t play with mind manipulation any more than I have to.”

  We arrived at Borvo Springs, and Liam pulled into the small parking lot. Borvo Springs was a private hospital, specifically set up for humans who’d been affected by something Other. That could mean a curse that made them a danger to those around them, waking psychic abilities that threaten their sanity, or even human-Other pregnancies that required careful monitoring. What had made it a perfect place for Roger is that the hospital specialized in keeping human relatives unaware of the Otherworldly quality of their loved one’s condition.

  Liam tucked his shirt into his jeans when he got out of the car, and I made a point not to watch him. Peasblossom glanced between us with an amused grin. I scowled and shooed her under my hair.

  The woman at the front desk pointed us to Roger’s room, and when we arrived, I gestured for Liam to take the lead. He opened the door and stepped inside the room.

  “Mrs. Temple?”

  “Yes?”

  I didn’t miss the way Barbara’s gaze took in our
uniforms and faces, memorizing every detail. My disguise was good, but I had to admit part of me waited for her to leap out of her chair and draw a weapon while screaming “It’s you!” If any human could see through my disguise…

  “My name is Detective Sergeant Osbourne, and this is Officer Vala.”

  Barbara nodded to each of us. “What brings you here?”

  Her voice trembled a little, and not for the first time, I marveled at Barbara’s ability to play the stricken wife. It was hard to believe that this woman wringing her hands in front of me was the same one who’d locked me in a panic room and then shot me as I tried to escape.

  “I’m here to talk to you about an acquaintance of yours—Jeffrey Carter? Have you seen him recently?”

  “No, he’s been gone for a couple weeks. But that’s not unusual. He’s not on active duty, and he often goes on extended camping trips. He’s very partial to the outdoors.” She frowned. “Why are the Cleveland Metropark Police Rangers looking for Jeffrey?”

  “I’m the head of the Wild Animal Task Force. We’ve been looking into a dog fighting ring.” Liam rolled his eyes. “Seems someone had the bright idea to try and catch a coyote and pass it off as a dog. The animal did some damage and got away, but now we’re wondering if this wasn’t the first attempt. We had calls about dog fighting at a condemned warehouse in the city, so we went to check it out.”

  His face grew serious, and he gentled his voice. “We found a lot of blood. Most of it was canine, but some was human. When we ran it through the system, we got a hit on an active duty soldier in the Rangers.”

  “Jeff.” Barbara’s voice went an octave higher with concern, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “You don’t think he’s on a camping trip. You think he’s…”

  Liam held up a hand. “I’m not saying that. He could be perfectly fine. But we do need to talk to him. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

  “No, I don’t. Where was this warehouse where you found his blood?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t discuss the details of an ongoing investigation,” Liam said apologetically. “Did he have a girlfriend?”