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“And that would be better, how? Might turn her against dogs the rest of her life.” Pursing his lips, he closed the file and tossed it back on the desk. “I won’t tell her it was zombies, but I have to tell her he was mauled. Maybe I’ll just leave it at that.”
Just then, Yugi knocked on the door and peeked in. “Lindsey Cartridge to see you. She’s with another woman, and a teenage boy.”
Chase glanced around his office. It wasn’t the most spacious cubicle. He reached for his crutches, wobbled to his feet, and motioned for us to follow him. “Is anybody using conference room B right now?”
Yugi shook his head. “Nope, it’s free.”
“Have them meet us there, then.”
“Sure thing, Chief.” Yugi saluted and headed back the way he’d come.
Delilah and I followed Chase into the empty conference room, careful not to trip him up. He was strong, but crutches are never anybody’s best friend.
The room looked like it got quite a bit of use. Several empty steno pads were scattered around the table, and a couple of gory case pictures hung on one bulletin board, apparently forgotten from the last meeting. I stared at the mangled bodies, slightly queasy.
Following my gaze, Chase asked me to take them down before Lindsey and her friends were escorted in. I grimaced but moved over to the photos. I’d no more than unpinned them from the corkboard and tucked them in a drawer on one of the built-in counters when Lindsey walked in.
A little shorter than me, she had long wheat-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she was athletic as hell. For an FBH, she could give Delilah a run for her money. Even though she’d had a baby only a few months before, the woman was built like a freight train, and I had no doubt she could bash in a few heads.
Behind her was a woman as petite as Menolly, with curly brown hair, and a boy who resembled her, except for his height. He towered over her, looking like a frightened rabbit.
As they silently sat down at the table, Chase motioned to the coffee urn. “If you want, we have fresh coffee, and there’s also hot water for tea. Would you like a soda?” He glanced at the boy.
“Um…sure. Coke, please.” The kid’s voice was shaky, and he sounded surprised. I had the feeling he was waiting for the iron to drop in the fire.
Chase gave Delilah a dollar, who plugged it into the vending machine. She handed the kid a Coke. Lindsey fixed coffee for herself and her friend. When she glanced over at us, Delilah and I shook our heads. Delilah didn’t like coffee, and I’d tasted the coffee at HQ before. I knew better.
Chase motioned for us to gather round. He sat across from the boy but leaned back in his chair and stuck his hands in his pockets. I knew what he was up to with his casual stance. He was trying to diminish some of the authoritarian scare that cops held over kids.
“Why don’t you introduce me to your friends, Lindsey?” He nodded to her.
Lindsey gave him a nod in return. “Sure thing. This is Tracy Smyth and her son, Sean. Tracy, Sean, this is Detective Johnson—he’s the director of the Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigation unit. Tracy is part of my coven, Detective. And Sean is in my training coven for teens.”
Chase leaned forward, shook Tracy’s hand, and gave Sean a friendly nod. “Thank you both for coming down. Lindsey said that you may have seen something this morning, Sean? Something frightening?”
Sean glanced at his mother, who tried to reassure him.
“It’s okay. Go on. Tell him what you saw, honey.” She patted his arm and he pulled away.
“Mommmm, don’t call me that in public.” He blushed. Ah yes, the teen years. FBHs had it hard when it came to hormones and puberty. The Fae were born with them already active. We grew up used to them raging through our systems. But that didn’t necessarily help us control them.
“Your mother is just concerned, son. Maybe cut her a little slack?” Chase flashed a smile at Sean, who shrugged, then cracked a smile of his own.
“Yeah, okay. Sorry, Mom.”
“Now, suppose you tell me what you saw.” Chase leaned forward and pulled a steno pad toward him as he took out a pen from his jacket. “And don’t worry. If what Ms. Cartridge has told me is true, you’re not going to get in trouble. You could help us a great deal if you’d tell us everything you witnessed. One of my officers was killed early this morning. He left a wife, and a daughter just about your age. If you noticed anything, you could make a great difference by helping us catch whoever did this.”
Sean worried his lip for a moment, then let out a long sigh. “I was out in the graveyard—”
“Which one?”
“The Wedgewood Cemetery. Part of our magical training is to learn how to use graveyard dirt. Usually we have some around the house, but we were out and I have Circle tonight and needed to finish my homework for it.” Sean’s voice started to even out a little as he spoke. He stopped to take a swig of the soda, then wiped his mouth.
“Homework. Gets you every time, doesn’t it, whether it’s school or magic?” Chase raised his eyebrows, and the kid visibly relaxed.
“Yeah, sure does. And Lindsey—Ms. Cartridge—works us hard. She’s tough—” He gulped and flashed Lindsey a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Ms. Cartridge, but you know you make us work hard. But you’re fair. Anyway, I was working by the hours, so I had to get up really early in the morning to do this.”
“What’s that mean?” Chase asked, glancing up. I couldn’t tell if he really wanted to know or was just trying to draw out Sean, but whatever the case, it worked.
