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“My hair,” he said, his voice hollow and the smile sliding from his face.
“Yeah, it was definitely yours. We were able to match what was left to the sample you provided,” Bixby said as he ruffled his own salt-and-pepper hair, squinting at Nox through his glasses. “The thing is… The results showed low traces of radioactive isotopes.”
“The hair was radioactive?” Nelson confirmed, earning another wince from Bixby.
“Just a little. The locket too. We might want to test the rest of your house and have you checked out, though,” he told Nox. “There could be something in the house that’s been leeching radiation through the years that you’ve been exposed to as well,” he warned.
Nox rubbed his chin, pretending to be concerned. “That is strange… Although!” His finger pointed at the ceiling and Nelson bit down on his lips to hold back a grin. Nox was about to blow them away or blow steam up their asses. “I do recall stories of an old Cloisonné jewelry box and those items being kept in there, along with some other enamel items.”
“That might do it…” Bixby said, nodding along. “Small amounts of uranium have been found in the gold and glazing on certain Cloisonné pieces.”
“I remember Dad saying something about that and that they’d gotten rid of anything that might have been radioactive when my mom got sick,” Nox said, disappointing Nelson because that was definitely all steam.
“You’re probably safe, then,” Bixby concluded. “How about these poisonings? Making any headway there?”
“Some,” Nox said with a sigh. “I have a feeling ol’ Colin was offered a way out or had accepted his yew as punishment for failing and getting caught.”
Bixby swore under his breath and stepped closer to Nox. “You better be watching your back. Whoever this is, they might be targeting you. Maybe they knew you’d be back and they blame you for getting in the way before. What if they’re warning you that you’re next?”
Nelson snorted as he opened the folder and scanned to see if there were any surprises, but Bixby had sent over copious notes as he was working. “I’ve warned him but Nox seems to think he’s immortal,” he murmured and Bixby chuckled, putting an arm around Nox and missing his sarcastic laugh.
“I’ve seen investigators get sucked in and become the target before and it starts out a lot like this. Don’t try to get into his head and don’t let him inside yours,” Bixby said, his earnest gaze and sincere warning striking Nelson’s conscience. This medical examiner wasn’t a suspicious, unimaginative prick like Edwards and had made the obvious and alarming connections between the crime scenes in New Castle and Nox.
“I won’t let that happen,” Nelson promised, making the older man laugh as he nodded.
“I know you won’t and it’s a good thing Nox has you looking out for him.”
Nelson dipped his chin. “That’s my job,” he said, but Nox let out a loud breath, making his lips flutter.
“I thought his job was to catch bad guys.” He turned Bixby toward the parking lot. “I’ll be fine. Is that a wedding ring?” he asked, pointing at Bixby’s hand and changing the subject. “I didn’t realize you were married. You’re always wearing gloves when I see you. And might I add that this suit is working really well,” he continued as they walked.
His flattery worked on Bixby. He was laughing and had forgotten about any danger Nox might be in by the time they reached the sidewalk in front of the Hoover Building. “Thanks, my husband dresses me,” he said, smoothing his tie and blushing.
“I want to meet this husband,” Nox declared. “You have to call us the next time the two of you are up here so we can get together for dinner.”
“That would be great!” Bixby said excitedly.
“How do you two feel about Kung Pao Chicken?”
“We love it.”
“Perfect! I can’t wait for you to meet Merlin.” Nox smiled and winked over his shoulder.
“Jesus,” Nelson said under his breath, taking out his notepad so he could scribble out a quick note to warn Bixby about Merlin.
1 Maori (May-aw-ree): The indigenous Polynesian people of mainland New Zealand.
Eighteen
Unfortunately, the only trace of the Badb Nox could find at Bippity Boppity Books was the emotional carnage he’d left behind. Howard looked haggard and haunted when he greeted them at the door, his hair disheveled and his ensemble haphazardly pulled on to resemble an eccentric yet elegant bookstore owner.
“Heidi comes and helps out whenever she can, poor dear,” Howard told them, looking around the store with sad, lost eyes that broke Nox’s heart. The store used to be Howard’s pride and the occult his passion, but boxes and books were stacked on the counters and in corners and the shelves and chandeliers were in dire need of dusting.
“Let us get you some help,” Nox offered, then hushed Howard when he tried to argue. “You and this shop are a beacon in the community and I imagine there are lots of people who would enjoy lending a hand.” He found that his own flame flickered and came back to life as he eased Howard’s pain.
“It might help to have a new face around here,” Howard mused distantly. “We’re all grieving and we rarely have any nice things to talk about. We’re always so sad.”
“And to lose Julian as he was coming to his senses and trying to atone for what he’d done…” Nox said sadly, but Howard let out a belligerent huff.
