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That was when Nox should have told Nelson about the queasy tickle or the moments of unexplainable bitterness he felt toward the people he loved the most. He hadn’t felt like himself and didn’t understand why he was hiding it or lying to them.
“I’ll let you know if it gets to be more than I can handle.” Or, maybe Nox did understand. Nelson was already afraid of who he was talking to and getting off with. At the moment, there wasn’t a lot that Nelson could do, as far as Nox could tell. “Let’s focus on finding Ma MacCrory’s killer and hope we weren’t too late to save ol’ Colin.”
Nelson had made several calls and security had been heightened around the last MacCrory. They were hoping he might have a change of heart and talk to them, but Nox didn’t think the odds were high given that Nelson had killed his son.
“Try not to let your feelings for Clancy cloud your judgment, that’s all I’m asking,” Nelson said, then got out and went around to get Nox’s door.
“We both know they will,” Nox eventually admitted as they walked. “That’s why I have you, though. You aren’t afraid to follow every clue and you ask the scary questions.”
They rode the elevator up in thoughtful silence and found Clancy in his office with a senior agent, reviewing reports and photos from a mass grave in New Jersey. “This is too old to be a mafia hit or connected to bootlegging. I’m not seeing any weaponry or textiles that suggest these are from the 1860s that would place them in the period around the Civil War. This looks tribal,” he suggested, then smiled and waved for Nox to take a look.
“I’m happy to help,” he said, striding past the armchairs and coming around so he could look over Clancy’s shoulder. He noted the different ages of the ten skeletons, the way they were arranged with care, the number of women and children, and smiled at the shattered fragments of what was probably a bracelet made of seashells. “I’d have the Smithsonian look into repatriating these to their ancestral tribe. This is most likely from a burial mound belonging to the Lenni Lenape1—the Delaware people,” he said, touching the eye tattooed on the center of his chest out of respect. “Their name means the true, pure, and original people, and they love the earth and live in harmony with nature.”
“Is that so?” the older agent said, casting a dubious look at Clancy.
He smirked and rolled his eyes, waving it off. “You’ll have to excuse Professor MacIlwraith. He has one of the sharpest minds I’ve ever encountered, but his parents were hippies and he spends a lot of time in altered states,” he said with a suggestive cough.
Nox gasped, pretending to be offended. “I have a prescription and psychedelics have proven helpful in curing depression and post-traumatic stress disorder,” he countered and went around Clancy’s desk, falling into one of the armchairs.
“I’ll send this over to the Smithsonian,” Clancy said to the agent, dismissing him and gesturing for Nelson to have a seat. “How are you feeling?” he asked Nox as he sat and rested his forearms on his desk.
“I’m fine,” Nox said tightly. “And I’m not the center of the universe.”
“Funny,” Nelson muttered under his breath, reaching for his notebook. “Some might suggest—”
Nox raised a hand and shushed loudly. “Listen! Do you hear that?” He shushed again when Nelson tried to answer. “Listen! That’s the sound of you minding your own business and focusing on the things we can fix,” he said, receiving hard, unblinking stares from Nelson and Clancy. Nox honestly couldn’t tell which voice had spoken because he was legitimately frustrated. “I’m sorry, but there’s a killer on the loose and I just interviewed a dead man.” He pressed his hands together apologetically and gestured for Nelson to explain.
He pushed out an exasperated breath and sat forward, regarding Clancy. “Did you hear about Tony?” he asked, making Clancy sneer.
“Loscadh is dó ort!”2 He spat, wishing the culprit was burned and scorched. “I understand your anger, Nox. I’d be devastated if someone went after Walt and he hasn’t officially been my assistant for a while.”
“It’s a good thing you don’t need Walt anymore because he’s covering for me and Tony now,” Nox said and Clancy grinned.
“You’re lucky he can find the time so be patient with him. I know he can be a little…stuffy and he’s got a chip on his shoulder. He was raised by a single mom and he worked damned hard to get where he is.” His nose wrinkled apologetically, making Nox chuckle.
“I know I’m a nepotism baby and I’ve had it too easy. But I’m chipping away at Walt’s resistance and I think he’s coming around.”
Clancy shrugged. “Walt’s been a grumpy old man since he was a student. All I care about is his work ethic and his passion for anthropology and he’s one of the smartest students I’ve ever had.”
“But not the smartest,” Nox qualified with a cocky smirk and Clancy rolled his eyes.
“He’ll be an associate professor starting next term and he’s recently engaged, but he still manages to save my ass when I’m swamped over here and you’re off being a rockstar.”
“Mmmhmm…” Nox widened his eyes at Nelson, then smiled at Clancy. “So, it’s safe to assume you wouldn’t attack my TA, knowing it would make more work for your all-star.”
“I think that’s safe to assume.” Clancy frowned between them. “They’re best friends and Walt would be useless if anything happened to Tony. Why would I even…?” He was befuddled and laughed in disbelief. “I’d tell you to get the hell out if I wasn’t so worried.”
“That’s what I told Nelson,” Nox said with a snort, before regarding Clancy soberly. “Our main suspect in the murder of Elsa Hansen and the abduction of the missing six, Julian Sherwood, is likely dying from yew poisoning. It turns out he was a former student of yours. He was writing a paper on the Tuath Dé when his research led him into the Appalachians, to the MacCrorys.”
You would have thought Nelson had pulled out his weapon, the way Clancy reared back and shook his head. “He was one of my students? When?”
Nox squinted over Clancy’s shoulder as he calculated. “I’d guess it was around four years ago, based on his age and when he started the literacy league with Elsa. He’d designed it to hunt for those girls,” he said, reassured by Clancy’s mounting horror.
“I had no idea,” he insisted, turning to his laptop. “I’m filing the request for permission right now so I can give you everything I have on him. And every other student I had who did papers on the Tuath Dé and anything to do with witchcraft and the occult.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that too,” Nox replied with a smirk at Nelson. “Can you remember anything about him? Or any other students who might have gotten involved with the MacCrorys?”
Clancy hummed thoughtfully, pausing his typing. “You might ask Walt or talk to Aubrey. One of them would have a better idea,” he said and Nox nodded at Nelson.
