Fire Within

chapter Two

As she drove away from the police station, Ari turned her Mini Cooper west toward the river district. The Woodland Inn was a small, neighborhood bar on the east edge of Olde Town. It stood in the zone next to Goshen Park that bridged the modern city with its dominantly human population and the original town, which in the past twenty years had been taken over by those who possessed and used magical abilities. The owner and any frequent patrons of the bar would be familiar with both divergent worlds.

When she arrived, Gillian was already there.

“Ari, so glad you called. Good excuse to get out of the OFR. What’s the story here?” The twenty-something lab tech, dressed casually in white jeans and a pink blouse, hurried across the parking lot with light, graceful steps. Tangled wisps of short blonde hair softened Gillian’s sharp, elfin features.

“I hoped they’d send you.” Ari grinned at her. A fragile looking species, but under that facade lay unusual strength; any elf could bench press 1,000 plus, if he or she was so inclined. Gillian chose to rely on her mind. The two women had been friends since Gillian joined the Otherworld Forensics & Research laboratory four years ago.

Ari explained what she knew about the case, the confession, the lack of physical evidence, and together they gave the scene a once-over. The bar was the only business in an unpretentious brown stucco building with the parking lot east of the front door. The crime scene tape was down, and a clean-up crew had already finished their work. Gillian began to walk around the edge of the paved area. Much of the surface was dotted with old oil stains. That made it easy to identify where the body had fallen. The spot-free area left by a clean-up crew was a dead give-away. Although it was early in the day, four cars were parked in the lot, but the scrubbed area remained empty. Superstition, or a show of respect for the victim?

Gillian returned, stopping next to Ari. “Not picking up much. How about you?”

“Haven’t tried yet.” Ari concentrated, reaching across the parking lot and around the building with tendrils of witch magic. She found residue of Otherworld energy, enough to raise the small hairs on her arms, but it was no more than could be accounted for by the victim’s presence the night before or even by Otherworld bar patrons. Vampires, wizards, lycanthropes, halfling demons, to name a few. Any of them might leak enough magic for trace readings. It had been too long since the incident for her to identify anything specific. She turned to look at Gillian. “Not getting enough. What’s your ES reading?”

Gillian peered at the screen of an Energy Sensor (ES), an instrument no larger than a cell phone. It was a relatively new piece of technology that could detect even minor amounts of magical energy from the presence of magical beings or from conjuring.

“Point zero one. Minimal. But it’s been almost fifteen hours. Wouldn’t expect a very high reading, no matter what happened here. Why weren’t we called last night?”

“Bureaucratic snafu.”

“Theirs or ours?”

Ari glanced at her, but Gillian was grinning.

“Not us, this time. Something about the number of calls on a holiday.” Ari shrugged. “It happens.”

“Not as bad as when our lab blew up the evidence.” Gillian chuckled. “That’s what I call experimental. Bits and pieces everywhere. Taught us not to use untried procedures on court cases. I’ll see if we can do better this time. You got a scene sketch?”

Ari gave her a copy, and they scrutinized the PD’s drawing. It was easy to re-create events. The victim must have come from the east toward the front door, which was on the northeast corner of the building. The parking lot would have been on his left. Ari walked over and stood in the spot.

The killer came from the south, staying between the building and the first row of parked cars. No doubt the lot was filled at that time of evening, but she still had a clear line of sight. The vampire would have seen his attacker. With those incredible vamp reflexes, why hadn’t he saved himself? Maybe the killer hunkered down in hiding behind the cars and jumped up firing. Ari thought about it. Nuh-uh. Not with the kind of accuracy that would take out head and heart, not unless he was an expert marksman. And that ruled out Eddie.

More likely the vampire hadn’t been concerned by the killer’s presence. She could see where the prosecution would go with that idea. They’d argue the victim knew his killer, didn’t anticipate an attack, and that pointed to Eddie, the brother-in-law.

“How’d this happen?” Gillian asked, as if reading her mind. “The victim should have gotten away. Vampires are too quick, too wary to get caught like this.”

“He wasn’t expecting it.”

“But the moment he saw a gun, why wouldn’t he take off or disarm his attacker?”

Good question. Jules had to know how upset Eddie was. Wouldn’t he at least be wary around him? Or had Jules succumbed to a moment of vampire arrogance, thinking no human could possibly be a serious threat?

“Police are positive this was a shooting?” Gillian wore a skeptical frown. “The ES mech isn’t giving me that kind of reading.”

“Witnesses said they heard shots. But I’m with you. This is weird.” Ari walked toward the position where the killer must have waited next to the building. “Shooter would have been right here.” She stopped in front of what would have been the first row of parked cars and crouched to search the ground. It was unlikely the PD techs had missed anything important, but she ran her hands over the area.

“What are you doing?” a gruff voice demanded. “This is private property.”

Ari straightened. A bulky male with a short beard stood in the bar doorway and surveyed her with suspicion.

“You a reporter?”

“Official investigation.” She palmed her ID and held it up. “Guardian and criminal investigator for the Magic Council. This is Gillian, from our forensics lab.”

The man squinted at the ID. “Uh, sorry, Guardian.” He stepped outside and let the door slam behind him. “Had a lot of folks nosing around. Reporters. Gawkers. Story made the morning TV news. Oh, I’m Joe Morris, owner and bartender.” He extended a hand, and they shook.

“You were working last night?”

“Me? Always working. Can’t afford much help. The economy, you know.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Sure. Didn’t see the shooting, but be happy to tell you what I can. Let’s step inside. I got customers. Not many, but I try to keep them happy. Every penny counts when you run a business this small.” He held the door open.

Ari looked a question at Gillian.

“You go on,” the lab tech said. “I want to finish out here. Take another reading, get some samples. I’ll let you know if I find anything or come up with a plausible theory.”

“Check the bushes. Police probably contaminated the scene, but if our killer came or left that way, we might get lucky.”

“Will do. If there’s a speck of energy or DNA, I’ll find it.” Gillian waved a careless hand and began a grid search, section by section.

Ari and the bartender stepped inside. The smell of stale beer greeted her at the door, that strange dichotomy that allows something that tastes so good at night to smell so bad the next morning. Her attention quickly turned to the five customers sitting at the bar: three men, two women. All except one young man appeared to be fifty and up. One of the women was a werewolf. Thanks to Ari’s witch gifts, she could spot the auras of shape shifters, even when they were in human form. The wolf gave a brief nod of acknowledgement.

The other four were full-blooded humans. They studied Ari with curiosity and speculation. Neighborhood bar. Strangers stood out. They must be wondering why Joe brought one of the snoopers inside.

Ari knew they weren’t staring because she looked different. Even though her parentage was mostly witch blood, a taint of human had given her the blonde hair. Light hair, green eyes, girl-next-door ordinary. Nothing about her shouted witch. The raven hair, so common to her race of conjurors, had passed her by. She was usually mistaken for human, and she had heard her share of blond jokes—before people got to know her. Often under-estimated on first impression, she had learned to make it work for her.

The younger man sized her up and offered the bar stool next to him. He wouldn’t have done that for a witch. Ari took the offered seat; Joe went behind the counter.

“This here’s Guardian Calin,” Joe announced. “Works for the Magic Council. She’s here about the shooting. Introduce yourselves. Anybody need a refill?”

The young man turned to her, his face a little more guarded after that introduction. “Never met anyone who worked for the Magic Council.”

Ari gave him a friendly smile, ignoring his obvious invitation to elaborate on her job or her parentage. Once they were finished with introductions, she asked about Eddie. They clammed up.

“Don’t mind this crew,” Joe said. “No one wants to get Eddie in more trouble.” He gave the counter a vigorous rub. “Known him a long time. He’s a good kid.”

“And a friend of mine,” Ari said. “If I can help him, I will. But I need to know exactly what happened.”

They relaxed a bit after that, enough to admit everyone had been present the night before except the young man sitting next to Ari.

“Last night was busy,” Joe began, as he finished with the refills. “Being a holiday and all. Lots of celebrating, so there was quite a racket. But we all heard the shots real well. Four of them. Wasn’t fireworks. Too powerful for that. Thought somebody was celebrating with a pistol. Whatever it was, I knew it was trouble and dialed 911. By the time I looked outside, everybody was standing around the body. Then the cops came.”

“Could you see the victim?”

“Um, not really. Saw someone was on the ground. Then heard it was Jules. I didn’t stay outside long. Went back to watch the bar.”

“From what you could see, did Eddie have a gun?”

Joe finished wiping the bar counter. He tossed the rag underneath and leaned on his elbows. “No gun. Saw Eddie, as well as I can see you, but no gun. Can’t believe he’d shoot someone. Two summers ago he tended bar on the weekends after I broke my arm. Wouldn’t take any money.” Joe shook his head, lips pursed. “Don’t understand what happened last night. Gotta be some kind of mistake.”

Ari encouraged Joe to talk about Eddie and listened with interest as he related details of Eddie’s family history. The West kids had grown up with a church-going mother and an alcoholic father. Liquor hadn’t been allowed in their home, but Old Ed, as Joe called him, bought a pint or two every time he sneaked out of the house. “Drink finally killed him,” Joe concluded.

Hmm. Ari kept the spark of surprise off her face. Eddie had said his father wasn’t around much when he was young but nothing about the alcoholism. “And yet Eddie worked for you. With that history, I’d have thought he would stay away from bars.”

“Not around here. Everybody stops at the Inn. Even kids come around to buy their soda. And the West kids both drink a little. Not too much,” he added quickly. “With Lorraine and Jules it was always wine.”

“Any idea why Jules was coming here last night without Lorraine?”

“Often did. They came together now and then for a drink. But more often, he’d stop for a bottle. Take it over to Lorraine’s.”

Ari frowned. Who buys their home stash at a bar? Sounded expensive to her.

Joe anticipated the question. “I compete with the local grocery on wine, beer, and soda prices. Keeps folks coming in.”

“Did he always come at the same time, the same night of the week? Enough so anyone would notice?”

“Not particularly, but he or both of them were here often enough. And it being July 4th and all…”

“He was expected,” Ari finished.

They all nodded, mumbled agreement. “Lots of people could have guessed,” one of the older customers emphasized.

“Including Eddie?” Ari persisted.

“Well, yeah, if he thought about it.” Joe’s face was solemn. “Suppose so.” His shoulders tensed, as if he’d taken a poke and expected another. He didn’t like the questions that might damage Eddie, and Ari liked him for it.

She changed the subject. “What about other enemies? Fights? Someone who resented Jules coming in the bar?”

Heads shook in the negative. “Never saw him even have an argument,” one of the men said. “He was pretty well accepted.”

“Of course, there’s people who fear and dislike all vampires,” Joe said. “But no bad talk in my bar. Everybody’s welcome here, if they behave themselves. Jules was an OK guy. Not sure I’d want him to date my daughter, but a good customer.”

“Full of great stories,” the older woman piped in. “Knew a lot of history first hand. And I liked the way he treated Lorraine. Protective, you know? I understand why Eddie was upset, but Jules took good care of her.”

“Jules and Lorraine must have had some disagreements. Could this be a lovers’ fight?”

“Lord, no!” the woman said without hesitation. She looked at Ari with her mouth rounded in protest. “That sweet kid? She was crazy about him. Not a bad word between them.”

“What about former boyfriends of Lorraine? A jealous ex? Anyone?”

Ari’s questions were met with shrugs and blank faces.

“I must be confused,” said the young man seated next to her. “Why are you asking about other enemies? I thought Eddie confessed.”

“It’s routine. We’re still looking for answers. For instance, the missing gun. If you remember or hear anything that could help us find it, please give me a call.” Ari handed out her business cards.

The young man pocketed the card with a frown. “Still don’t get it. You act like Eddie might be innocent. Why would he admit to the shooting, if he wasn’t guilty?”

Ari raised her eyebrows. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Ari would have recognized Lorraine West anywhere. She was the feminine version of her brother. Small frame, copper curls, turned-up nose liberally sprinkled with freckles. Seated on an over-stuffed brown and ivory sofa, Lorraine was dwarfed by the large man holding her hands. They both turned to look when Lorraine’s mother ushered Ari into the apartment’s living room and introduced her.

“Sorry to intrude,” Ari said. “Difficult time, I know.”

Lorraine nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She withdrew her hands from the man’s clasp, placing them in her lap. Her blue eyes were red around the edges, puffy. She clutched a damp tissue.

The forty-something man stood and stepped forward. Dark brown hair carefully combed to one side framed his round face. Affable appearance, yet intense gray eyes met Ari’s inquiring look.

“Ms. Calin,” he acknowledged. “Harold Shale.”

He stuck out his hand, which Ari accepted. Brief handshake, practiced smile, slight tingle of some kind of energy. Her witch senses went on alert. He had a neutral aura. Weird.

“Harold was our counselor,” Lorraine said, as if that explained it all.

Ari relaxed. It did explain the tingle. Most human counselors had at least some latent psychic power; maybe that’s what led them into their career. Some were aware; many were not. She wondered which category fit this man.

“What type of counseling do you do?” She returned his direct gaze.

“Shale and Associates. We offer relationship counseling for human clients and their Otherworld partners.” He broke the brief eye contact and turned to Eddie’s sister. “I must be going, Lorraine, but please call me if there is anything I can do.”

“Thank you so much for coming,” she said softly, dutifully. Ari figured she’d repeated those same words many times.

Ari stopped the counselor before he could leave. “I may need to chat with you at some point.”

“About Jules? I’m not sure how much I can tell you.” He frowned, creasing his forehead into deep lines. “Our sessions are confidential, you understand. I can’t betray a client’s privacy.”

“It’s all right, Howard,” Lorraine interrupted. “Please tell her whatever she needs to know. I don’t mind, and I want the murderer found.”

“But Lorraine,” he began, then stopped.

Ari waited for him to finish, but he didn’t. Was he really worried about confidentiality? Or something else? Something about his manner was off. Maybe just discomfort over the murder of a client. Proximity to death affected some people that way.

Whatever his reservations, he didn’t voice them. Instead he said, “Well, then, Miss Calin, I look forward to hearing from you.” He turned one last time toward his client. “I’ll call to see how you’re doing. Believe me, my dear, it will get better.”

Ari eyed him thoughtfully. Why did people say that? The losses in her life—her parents, her Great-Gran, her mentor, Yana—were still with her. It didn’t get better; it just got different.

Once Shale was gone and Mrs. West had busied herself in the kitchen, Ari gave Lorraine the standard line. “I’m sorry for your loss,” which Lorraine accepted with a brief nod. It wasn’t that Ari didn’t mean it. She did. But nothing sounded right at a time like this. “I know my timing’s bad.”

“No, please sit down. It’s all right.” Lorraine dabbed at her cheeks with the tissue. “I’ll answer anything I can.”

“I saw Eddie this morning,” Ari said, taking the upholstered chair directly across from the woman.

“How is he?” Lorraine showed the first sign of interest in the conversation. “Is he all right? I’ve been so worried. He shouldn’t be locked up in jail.”

Ari knew Eddie and his sister were close. Still, she was a little surprised he’d been forgiven so quickly. “He’s fine. A little scared, I think. He won’t talk about what happened, and I’m struggling to figure this out. I was hoping you could help me.”

“But I don’t know anything.” Lorraine’s voice was reedy from distress. “Why is Eddie saying these crazy things? They’re not true. Can’t be. He’d never do this.” When Ari waited for her to go on, Lorraine said, “I can only tell you what happened to me. I was here, at home. Ju…Jules was coming over. I was wishing he’d hurry and had just checked the clock. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain.” Lorraine touched a hand to her chest, and her lashes closed for a moment. “All across here. It was terrible. Like a heart attack, I suppose. I didn’t know what was happening. Now I’ve been told it was the bond breaking. The exact moment…he died.” Her voice broke as a sob escaped. She stopped, pressing her fingers against her mouth.

“Take your time.” Ari fidgeted. “Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

“No, I’m fine, really, but thanks. I must have fainted afterward, because I woke on the floor, knowing something horrible had happened. At first, I thought I was ill. I reached my cell phone on the coffee table and called Jules for help, but all I heard was voice mail. Since I thought he was on his way, I just waited. It seemed forever. Then the police officers came.” She twisted the tissue around her fingers in agitation.

“And they told you what happened?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I called Eddie, but he didn’t answer. Guess they wouldn’t let him.”

Ari kept her voice matter-of-fact. “Your brother was upset about the bonding. Did he talk to you about that?”

Lorraine was slow in responding, a haunted look pinching her face. “Eddie’s protective. Has been ever since we were kids. He thought this was a passing thing, didn’t understand my feelings were real. But he would have accepted Jules in time.” Her voice sharpened. “He wouldn’t kill anyone. The police have made a terrible mistake.” She trailed off, as if this protest in her brother’s defense had sapped the last of her energy.

“Why would he confess?”

Lorraine shook her head. “I don’t know. But it's a lie. My brother would never do anything to hurt me.” She slowly shredded the tissue in her hands; small pieces escaped her lap and fell on the floor.

“Can you talk about Jules? Tell me a little about him.”

The question brought a smile, a slight curving of the lips. For the next ten minutes, Lorraine put the grief aside and shared their casual meeting at a movie theater, the subsequent romantic period of getting to know one another, the flowers, the little gifts, and eventually their decision to enter a bond. Her face took on a far-away expression as she walked back in time reliving those memories. The vampiric strengths and abilities that made others steer away from Jules only made her feel safe and secure.

Ari shifted in her seat. A vampire had once made her feel the same, when her defenses had been down. At least Jules hadn’t lived to make Lorraine regret it.

“My family hoped I’d get over him. I guess that’s why the bonding upset them so much.” When Lorraine looked at Ari again, the dreamy look was gone. “I will never get over him. He was everything I wanted.” Her voice grew firmer. “I know what you’re thinking. He was a vampire, and, yes, I knew he had a dark side, a scary past. I didn’t think about it much. I accepted what he was, because I loved him. It was that simple for me.”

The two women stared at each other for a moment. Ari was the one who looked away. Such acceptance wasn’t easy for everyone, she thought. Not so simple at all.

“You know, the fact he was a vampire makes it harder to deal with his death,” Lorraine confided. “I’d gotten used to the reality of his long life. He had so much, so many years, ahead of him. He…no, we…should have had them all.”

Lorraine’s face appeared to be an open book. Either she was an accomplished liar, or she would never have killed her vampire lover. She had loved unconditionally.

Ari frowned. She couldn’t let herself get caught up in this romantic stuff. “If everything was so great, why the counseling with Mr. Shale?”

“It wasn’t us. It was the people around us. Every couple has issues. Family, in my case. And Jules’s old girlfriend, Rayden. Harold provided a place for us to talk it over and maybe come up with solutions.”

Ari pounced on the information. “This ex-girlfriend, what kind of trouble did she cause?”

“She wanted Jules. Rayden’s a vampire, and they’d been together off and on since the 1940’s. She thought they’d get back together, until Jules met me.”

“So, what did she do?”

“Broke into my apartment. We came home from a late movie and found ‘Die, Bitch’ written in blood on the bedroom mirror. I was terrified, and I’ve never seen Jules so upset. The next night the same message was left on my phone. Jules recognized her voice. He talked to her, and she stopped.”

Hmm. Ari would like to have heard that conversation. “You’re sure it was blood?”

“Yes, that’s what Jules said.” Her lips puckered. “She must have pricked a finger or something.”

The doorbell rang, and Mrs. West escorted two young women into the room. Since that signaled the end of any private conversation, Ari said her goodbyes and left.

Lorraine’s name moved to the bottom of the list of suspects, Rayden went to the top. At the very least, the vampiress should be able to name Jules’s enemies. And, it was possible Rayden was one of them. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman scorned had killed a lover.

Ari stood on the sidewalk outside Lorraine’s apartment and considered her next stop. She couldn’t talk with Jules’s ex until dark. That left her with time to stop at her office, re-schedule her appointments for the next three or four days, or at least until she had a better handle on this investigation. With Eddie sitting in jail, she needed to free up as much time as possible. With that plan in mind, she started toward her car.

Her cell rang. Caller ID indicated it was Claris. “Hi! What’s up?”

Claris had been her best friend since second grade, when the blonde witch and the full-blooded human girl in pigtails formed a sister-like friendship that had survived the last seventeen years.

“What time are you going to be here?” Claris asked.

“Ah-h, was I coming over?”

“Ari, don’t you remember? Tonight’s the Charity Auction. You and I and Brando and Steffan. You forgot, didn’t you?”

Oops. It was probably a case of selective memory. Ari hadn’t been eager to go. She didn’t have much time for dress-up social events and often found excuses, but this was different, she’d promised. She kind of owed Claris. Her best friend had put up with a lot from her in the last year. Ari had grieved her mentor’s death, been shot in a fight with an Uzi-wielding werewolf…and then there was the whole mess with Andreas. Ari stifled a sigh. No excuses. Not even a murder investigation.

“Of course, I didn’t forget,” she said. “Aren’t the guys coming at 8:00? So, I should be at your place by what? 7:00?”

“Ari! We can’t get ready in an hour. I’ll expect you at 5:30.”

“Sure.” Resigned to the inevitable, Ari agreed. “I’ll be there.” While she liked to shop and buy cool things as well as the next female, primping for hours was another thing. Claris enjoyed it, so occasionally they turned Claris’s residence at the rear of Basil & Sage, her herbal shop, into a private salon. Makeup, hair, nails and selecting the right outfit. It wasn’t so very different than playing guinea pig for Claris’s childhood herbal mixtures when they were ten. Except, Claris was really good with the girlie stuff.

Ari sighed as they disconnected. Maybe she should have told Claris about Eddie, begged off due to her job. She wasn’t sure how good a companion she’d be with the murder on her mind. But she didn’t want to disappoint her friends, even if this had every sign of being a long, long evening.