“Kidnapped?”
“Likely. I can’t say for certain, because I was swamped by a foul black fog in which some kind of black-clawed demon hunted.”
There was a long pause. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” In the passing gleam of a car’s headlights, I caught sight of a thick silver chain hanging over the edge of the nearby rubbish bin. I walked over, discovered it was Monica’s purse, and quickly opened it up. It held cash, credit cards, and tampons, but little else. “Her handbag has been dumped, but her phone’s not here so she might still have it on her. You able to trace it?”
“It was turned off just before she left the venue, so I’ll have to contact the service provider to get its IMEI number.”
“What the hell is an IMEI number?”
“It stands for International Mobile Equipment Identity number, a unique fifteen-digit serial number given to every device,” he replied. “They’re stored in an equipment identity register, so once we get the number, we can trace the phone, even when it’s powered off.”
Which was far more information than I really wanted to know. “Did you call in the cops? Because it sounds like they’re heading this way.”
“I did, because they could get there faster than anyone else.”
Anyone else being the Brisbane investigators, who were likely all tucked up in bed at this hour. I’d love to be doing nothing more than crawling into bed myself right now, but that was unlikely to happen for the next few hours, at the very least.
“And the forensics team?”
“On their way. You’ll need to brief them when they arrive so they can more precisely target areas of interest.”
“Except there’s not much in the way of evidence left to target, either physical or magical.”
“They specialize in spell traces as well as the regular stuff. They’ll find what you and I can’t.”
Suggesting he didn’t know Kangs could garner all sorts of information about a caster from their spell’s energy. “What about the High Council investigators? Have they been notified as yet?”
“At this point, no.”
Surprise rippled through me. “Why not?”
“I have no idea. I only have orders.”
“Who from? Lowell?” Because if hehadordered that, he was an idiot, especially given who her dad was.
“No, it came from higher up.”
Meaning Canberra—perhaps even Sophie herself. Maybe I needed to ring my brother and ask him what the fuck was going on. “That makes no sense.”
“This whole organization often makes no sense.”
With that I could not disagree. “Once I’ve updated forensics, I’ll head back to the warehouse and see what the bridesmaids have to say for themselves.”
“Lowell wants you back tonight for an audit.”
A groan escaped. An audit basically meant undergoing an “interview” by both a truth seeker and auditor. The former was basically a telepathic projector, who used both magic and telepathy to connect to an individual’s memories, scan all relevant information, and then physically display it while questions were asked and answered. An auditor recorded the session and ensured everything being done was aboveboard and legal. It was a pain-in-the-ass process, but it did at least mean that if charges were laid against an individual rather than being privately dealt with by the Society, the accuracy of the information garnered could not be challenged in the courtroom, thanks to the fact all readers and auditors had to be registered with, and approved by, the High Council.
While I understood the necessity of doing them, there was no need to do it tonight. Five or six hours of sleep wasn’t going to change my memories of events in any way. Unless, of course, a telepath got in there and scrambled them, and if that was what Lowell was worried about, then he knew more about this case than he was saying.
“Surely that can wait till the morn?—”
“Hejust said it surely can’t,” Jack cut in wryly.
Meaning he was monitoring our conversation—maybe even in the room with Jack. Just as well I hadn’t let my mouth run away with me. I scrubbed a hand wearily across my face. “You want to send me the forensics team’s deets? Just so I can be sure they are who they say they are?”
“You’re not a very trusting soul, are you?”
