Sins of the Demon

Chapter 15

Despite joking, my nerves were a frayed mess about being called in to talk to the chief. I had no doubt as to the reason, and I could only be deeply glad that I’d already spilled the beans to my sergeant.

I flashed a relaxed smile to the secretary in the chief’s outer office—even though I felt anything but relaxed—and tapped on his door frame. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Chief Robert Turnham gave me a smile as he waved me in, but there was a tightness around his eyes that did nothing to ease the knot of worry in my gut. He’d recently decided to give in to his ever-retreating hairline and shave his head, but the combination of that with his dark skin, his height, and his gangly, thin limbs had him resembling one of the creatures from the movie Aliens. Though without the slavering teeth and poison blood and all that. He and I had always gotten along fairly well. He had a tendency to be dour and anal retentive, but he was a damn good cop with tons of experience, and he’d always treated me with respect.

But right now it was pretty obvious he was stressed and worried. Obviously something more was going on.

“Have a seat, Kara,” he said. I complied, doing my best to keep my expression even and calm. He’d had the walls painted in here, I noticed—a warm blue that matched the tones in the Beaulac PD seal on the wall behind his desk. The carpet had been updated too—a dark gray that that was a huge improvement over the bilious tan of its predecessor. The desk, chairs, and bookshelves were real wood now instead of metal, but nothing that looked like it cost and arm and a leg. Not much else had changed, though. The books and various awards were still aligned neatly, and I doubted I’d find any dust on the shelves. The overall effect was “serviceable and classy,” which pretty much fit the chief to a T.

He leaned forward and interlaced his fingers together on the desk in front of him. His face fell into lines of concern that I knew weren’t fake. “I’m not going to waste time with bullshit small talk, Kara. I received a tip this morning, from an anonymous person, stating that the deaths of Barry Landrieu, Evelyn Stark, and Thomas Chartres are connected. And that we should be looking at you as a murder suspect.”

I took an unsteady breath. “As I told Sergeant Crawford, yes, I knew all three. And no, I sure as hell didn’t murder any of them.” I gave him a terse explanation of who each person was—everything I’d told Sarge. Okay, maybe not everything. I could probably safely leave out the bit about the demons and portals and whatnot.

He blew out his breath and leaned back in his chair. “So there are two possibilities that leap to mind. First is that you’re being set up, and second is that you’re a serial killer.” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Or both,” I replied with a weak laugh.

“Or both,” he acknowledged, barest hint of a smile playing on his mouth, but the tension around his eyes hadn’t left.

“Sir, I’d like to point out that that there’s nothing to suggest any of these people were murdered.”

“True enough. However, I’ve spoken to Dr. Lanza and he’s concerned that all of them had similar causes of death, though right now he’s more worried that it could be something contagious, and he’s currently going back and forth with the CDC.”

That was a troubling thought, but I had a tough time believing it. If it was contagious then more people would be affected than just the ones on my not-invited-to-my-birthday-party list. The tox didn’t show anything because it wasn’t the sort of thing a tox screen could detect. At least that was my theory.

He cocked his head. “Do you think it’s all a giant coincidence?”

“Fuck no,” I said. “What’s that saying? ‘Once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern.’”

He steepled his fingers in front of him. “There’s a variation of that phrase that says ‘three times is enemy action.’”

Scowling, I nodded. “Can you tell me how this tip came in?” Because if that wasn’t sent by my mystery summoner or someone working with him, I’d eat my demon’s cat.

“Phone call, from a prepaid cell phone. Cash.”

Crap. There’d be no chance of tracing that.

“It’s a damn good thing that you told your sergeant about your connection to these victims,” he said. “But until we—”

He was cut off by the opening of the door. I glanced back to see who it was, deeply unsettled to see Mayor Peter Fussell enter and close the door behind him. I fought to keep any of it from showing on my face. The mayor gave me a tight smirk of a smile, which didn’t do a damn thing to relax me. He didn’t like me, and the feeling was completely mutual. Not long ago he’d attempted to coerce and threaten me into revealing confidential information on an active murder investigation. With the help of my sergeant, I’d recorded the conversation and had threatened him right back. Yeah, he didn’t love me.

“She’s still here, Robert?” he said as he pulled his overcoat off. “I’d have thought you’d have her gun and badge by now at the very least. And maybe have her in jail for good measure.”

My stomach dove into my toes. I was fully aware that the Chief of Police was appointed by the mayor. It didn’t matter how much Chief Turnham admired, respected, or even tolerated me—if it came down to a choice between me and his job, I knew which way it would fall.

Annoyance swept over Chief Turnham’s face. “I have nothing to arrest her for, Peter.”

The mayor dropped into the other chair and eyed me. “Three people dead. And you hated them all, didn’t you?”

I eyed him right back. “Is this an interrogation?” I asked, then looked over at my chief. “Because, if so, I want a lawyer.” I shifted my arm to reassure myself the cuff was still there, relieved that I’d been so stressed about being called in that I’d forgotten to slip it off. Yeah, the white hot rage I was feeling right now was all my own.

“It’s not an interrogation, Kara,” the chief replied. “However, until we can get this whole mess cleared up, I think it’s best if you go on administrative leave.”

Even though I was half-expecting it, the news was still a punch in the gut. “I haven’t done anything wrong, sir,” I managed.

“That we know of,” Fussell said with a dubious sniff.

Chief Turnham shot him a quelling glance, then gave me a more reassuring look. “It’ll be with pay, and it’s in your best interest. This way there can be no question of impropriety in the investigation.”

“Yes, sir.” I understood it. I really did. But I didn’t have to like it one bit.

“Stop coddling her, Turnham,” the mayor sneered. “Get a search warrant for her house, and get the evidence you need.”

I leveled a black glare at the mayor. “You don’t have the probable cause for a search warrant.”

He sat forward. “Then sign a consent-to-search and prove you’re innocent.”

“Not in this lifetime,” I shot back.

He laughed and looked over to the chief. “See? She’s obviously hiding something. You could fire her for insubordination for refusing to follow an order.”

“Oh, for God’s sakes, Peter,” the chief muttered.

“Mayor Fussell,” I said as I fought to remain calm, “with all due respect, just because I’m a city employee doesn’t mean that you or anyone else has leave to trample all over my civil rights. And if you insist on having me fired for refusing to consent to a search of my private residence, you and this city can most certainly brace yourselves for a lawsuit.”

“It won’t come to that,” Chief Turnham said, voice sharp and firm. My respect for my chief soared.

I gave him a polite nod. “And I appreciate that. Am I to assume that my leave is effective immediately?”

He sighed, deep regret in his eyes. “I think that would be for the best.”

I stood and gave him a grateful smile, then gave the mayor a slight, mocking bow. “Y’all have a Merry Christmas!” I turned and left, and even resisted the desire to slam the door behind me.

But once I was out, the smile slid off my face as I strode quickly down the hall to my office. True, it could have been worse. Administrative leave was a shitload better than a suspension. Basically I’d just been given a paid vacation. But I still felt as if I’d been hamstrung.

No one else was around, which was a relief. I didn’t feel like going into an explanation of the whole thing for anyone right now. I ducked into my office and quickly gathered up the few personal items I gave a damn about, just in case this whole situation turned to even more shit, and I couldn’t get back here for a while.

On my way home I called Jill. “Guess who’s a murder suspect!”

She groaned. “Please tell me you’re not in jail.”

I laughed. “Not yet. But I am on administrative leave. Paid!”

“Woohoo! Vay-cay!”

“Yeah, under any other circumstance it would rock. Anyway, I’m headed to the house. The mayor was in there with the chief when I was given the lovely news, and he’s seriously gunning for me. Wanted me to sign a consent-to-search form to let them rummage through my house.”

I heard her suck her breath in. “Yikes. I’m assuming you told them to get stuffed?”

“Pretty much. But I have a bad feeling that the mayor’s gonna be pressuring Chief Turnham to scrape up enough probable cause to get a warrant.”

She made an unpleasant sound. We both knew that there were ways to get around the strict legalities of search and seizure. All they had to do was come up with a “confidential informant” to attest that I was hiding evidence of my dark deeds in my house. “You’re still planning to summon tonight?”

“Hell, no,” I said. “I’m summoning as soon as I get home.”

“Good plan. You need something to cart your demon around in once you get him here?”

“Crap. I might, depending on which demon I summon. I’ll need to go rent an SUV—”

“No, you won’t,” she interrupted. “We can put him in the back of the van.”

It took me a couple of seconds to process what she meant. “Wait. Your crime scene van?”

“That’s the one!”

I burst out laughing. “This is yet another reason why you’re my best friend.”

After I hung up with her I called Roman, spun him a fiction about needing his signature on a witness statement so that I could close out the Barry Landrieu case, and could he possibly meet me at Grounds For Arrest in say, two hours?

He agreed without hesitation. I breathed a sigh of relief. I still figured it was a long shot, but even eliminating him as a suspect would be progress. And since my progress thus far had been zilch, I’d take what I could get.

Eilahn was waiting for me on the porch with the cat on her lap when I pulled up. I had absolutely no idea how the demon managed to be everywhere I was, but I wasn’t going to complain.

Fuzzykins eyed me balefully as I climbed the steps. I reached to give her ears a scratch, and she gave me a dubious sniff. Well, at least it was an improvement over the usual hiss/snarl/claw reaction.

“I’m on administrative leave,” I told Eilahn.

“I know,” she said. “I listened in on your meeting.”

Again—no idea how she managed that. Did she hide in the air ducts or something?

“Any suggestions for demons to summon who can do a discreet assessment of Roman?” I glanced at the sky and scowled. “In broad daylight?”

She thought for a moment. “A nyssor would be the most prudent choice.”

I bit back a groan. She was likely right. But a nyssor…ugh. “They can assess for summoning ability?” I asked, hoping she’d respond with something like, Oh, wait, my mistake, you don’t need a nyssor after all.

“Yes,” she said, dashing my brief hopes. “And it would only need a heartbeat or two of contact.” Her lips twitched. “You do not care for the fifth-level demons?”

“They creep me the fuck out,” I confessed, adding a shudder for emphasis.

She laughed, a crystalline sound. “You are not the first summoner to say so.”

“There’s a reason for that,” I said sourly. “Do we have any bacon in the house?”

“Second drawer in the fridge,” she replied as she stroked her fingers through the cat’s fur.

I stood and headed inside, shedding the cuff and pulling my cell phone out as soon as I was through the door. While I walked to the kitchen I typed a text to Jill, then retrieved the bacon from the fridge, kicked the door closed, and walked back down the hallway to the basement door.

Yes, you really do need to summon this demon, I told myself firmly as I hesitated. I didn’t really like summoning during the day, but the use of the storage diagram made it easier. Muttering something nasty, I set the package of bacon down, stripped off my clothes, retrieved the bacon, then headed down the stairs to get garbed up for the summoning. The sooner I got this over with, the sooner I could dismiss it.