Missing Magic (13 page)

“That’s unlike him,” she agreed. “But what
does that have to do with me? Maybe he’s really ill. Unable to
phone. I wouldn’t know. I don’t understand how Mick’s problems
warrant a visit to my home from Internal Affairs.”

Riddick’s smile was a mixture of smugness and
malice. “Well, that’s the thing.” He leaned back on the couch, his
hawk-like gaze never leaving hers. “Morsi’s live-in girlfriend, one
Natasha Klein, filed a missing person report yesterday. She claims
she doesn’t know where he is either. But she says she saw you and
some other man lurking around the house. She thinks you might have
had something to do with his disappearance.”

It took half a second for his words to sink
in. When they registered, she exploded. “Are you crazy? With no
evidence? And Mick doesn’t have a live-in girlfriend. Did you
bother to search his house? Have you even looked for him?”

Riddick ignored her outburst. “We have
evidence of Ms. Klein’s claims.”

Now she went very, very still. “Show me.”

The younger officer handed Riddick a manila
envelope. Opening it slowly, he withdrew a stack of photographs and
handed them to her.

Looking at them, Dee couldn’t believe it. All
of them were of both her and Cenrick, skulking around the sidewalk
in front of Mick’s house. In the photo, the house didn’t glow at
all.

But Natasha had been watching them. Taking
pictures.

“Is that you?” Riddick was relentless.

What could she say? Throat tight, she handed
him back the pictures and nodded. “Yes, but the mere fact we were
at his house doesn’t mean we had anything to do with Mick being
gone.”

“Really? You don’t find this interesting?”
Riddick commented. “Mick Morsi, an important witness regarding the
corruption charges against you, disappears a few days before he’s
scheduled to testify. And, even after he asked you to stay away,
you’re seen around his house.”

Crap
. Talk about a set-up. She could
feel the noose tightening around her neck. “Those photos prove
nothing. I can’t believe you think I had something to do with
this.”

The two men exchanged glances. Finally
Riddick spoke up. “Let’s just say you’re a top suspect. You’re the
only one we know of who has probable cause.”

“But you have no evidence.” Doggedly, she
continued to defend herself. Yet. They had no evidence yet. She
could safely bet that soon, some compelling evidence would come
along, courtesy of Natasha.

And Mick?

She concentrated on breathing, slowly,
evenly. Damned if she hadn’t severely underestimated the blonde and
her cohorts.

Both of the Internal Affairs officers stared
her down, no doubt hoping she’d spontaneously confess.

Shaking her head, Dee stalked to the door,
yanking it open as she stepped to one side. “I’m going to have to
ask you to leave.”

Riddick didn’t move. “Being uncooperative
won’t help your case any.”

She pointed outside. “I’m telling you to go.
Don’t bother to come back unless you have a warrant.”

They left, without another word. The look
Riddick shot her as he walked past was one Dee was familiar with.
She’d given it to numerous perps over the course of her career.

Though she got minimal satisfaction, she
slammed the door behind them.

“Dee?” Cenrick’s appeared. “Are you all
right?”

“I’m fine.” Wrapping her arms around herself,
she told him what had transpired.

“Mick’s missing?” He ran his fingers through
his hair. “More likely they’ve used their machine on him.”

“Why is he doing this?” To her horror, her
voice shook. “He must have a reason, something we don’t know.”

“If Mick was involved in the beginning, which
I’m sure he was, I think the balance of power has shifted. It’s all
Natasha now. Mick’s become a pawn. I think she used him to get
things set up. Once he’d delivered the Fae and she knew she could
get more, she didn’t need Mick.”

“It’s possible Mick didn’t know what she was
planning.” She lifted her chin, knowing her obstinate loyalty
probably annoyed him, and not caring. “And once he found out, he
tried to stop her.”

Cenrick gave a slow nod. “I’ll let you have
your small hope, though I don’t have the same faith in Mick that
you do.”

“I know Mick. He wouldn’t do something like
this.”

“Why not?” He watched her closely. “The Mick
I know was in one kind of trouble after another.”

“That was before he became a cop, right?”

“Years before.”

“That’s what I thought. All Mick ever wanted
to do was to stop injustice. If he could have become a superhero,
he would have. Growing up in the orphanage and in foster homes, he
saw what kind of people prey on kids. Mick wanted to fight that. He
was passionate about the subject. I joined the police department
because of him.”

She took a deep breath. “That’s why the idea
of him preying on other Fae makes no sense. She’s behind all this,
this Natasha Klein. We’ve got to find out what she’d done to him.
Missing,” she fumed. “She’d better not have made him Soulless.”

“Then we’ll go with my plan.”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“No,” she admitted. “What’s going to make
this more difficult is that we’re probably under police
surveillance now,” she said. “They’ll be watching this house and
following me around.”

“Why?”

She laughed, a sound utterly without humor.
“If they really think I’ve killed off another cop, if I make one
false move, I’m dead. There won’t be a cop out there who isn’t
itching to get his hands around my throat.”

“Surely they won’t judge you without a
trial.”

“Oh, they will. It’s human nature. All this
started with the corruption charges. Now Natasha’s taken quick
steps to ensure I have no credibility and no friends. But I haven’t
figured out why.”

“That’s simple,” he said. “Obviously she’s
worried about you for some reason. Maybe if we can find out what
that is, we’d be better equipped to stop her.”

“Let’s make another run by Mick’s house, in
case Natasha and her machine have returned.”

“What about the police? If they’re watching
us…” “I’m a good driver. If they tail us, I’m sure I can shake
them.”

But, once in her car, she saw no tail. Either
she was wrong about the surveillance, or Internal Affairs hadn’t
had time to set something up yet. No one followed them, and she
drove quickly and unerringly toward Mick’s house. When his street
materialized in front of them, she saw his house once again glowed
softly in the late afternoon light.

“Look at that. They must be back.”

Cenrick sat up straight. “This time, we’ve
got to get inside without them knowing.”

She parked the car in a different spot.
Together, they got out. He held out his hand. She took it.

As they approached the front sidewalk, a
police car screeched up, lights flashing, siren wailing.

“Freeze.”

“What now?” Dee groaned.

“We’re bringing you in for questioning,” the
uniformed officer said, hustling them both to his car. “Come with
me, please.”

Dee dug in her heels. “I need to know
why.”

His eyes met hers in the rear view mirror.
Flat and cold, they were the eyes of a furious cop, holding in his
anger. “Mick Morsi’s Explorer was found, blood all over the front
seat. He left a note in the glove box. It said if anything happened
to him, to look at you.”

THREE HOURS later, they were finally
released.

“They can talk to me all they want,” Dee
explained to Cenrick, while driving away from the police station.
Though she kept her shoulders back and her chin up, as was her way,
he could see exhaustion radiating from every pore. “But I’m only a
suspect. Without hard core evidence, they have nothing.”

“They can’t arrest you?”

“Not yet.” She didn’t sound optimistic. “I
swear, if I can find Mick, I’m dragging him down to the police
station myself.”

“Not if he’s Soulless.”

“We need to go back to Mick’s,” she said.
“But this time, we’ve picked up a tail.”

“You need to get some sleep first. It’s one
o’clock in the morning.”

Because he was right, instead of arguing with
him, she swore long and low under her breath, using curses he’d
only heard uttered by drunken soldiers in the raunchiest human
bars.

She caught him staring. “Cops. I learned
those words from other cops. Sorry.”

When they arrived at her apartment, the
Sunday paper had already been delivered to her doorstep. She
scooped it up on the way in, tossing it on the floor near the
couch.

While she went back to the bedroom to change,
Cenrick dropped onto the sofa.

The headline on the front page caught his
attention.

Local Police Office Suspect in Partner’s
Disappearance
.

He grabbed it and unrolled the paper. At
least they weren’t calling it murder. Most likely because no body
had been found.

“Dee, come here.”

“What?” She hurried back into the living
room. “Take a look at this.” He showed her the article. “They found
Mick’s Explorer, just like your police department said.”

“This doesn’t make sense. How’d this reporter
get tipped off so quickly? We only just left the police station.
The printer needs several hours lead time, which means this was fed
to someone long before I ever talked to the police.”

Snatching the paper out of his hands, Dee
began reading. “Oh my God. The informant, whoever that may be, must
have thought I’d confess. It’s a damn shame when the supposedly
unbiased newspaper accuses me of Mick’s murder.” She slammed the
article down on the kitchen counter. “I wonder if the other media
has picked this up and is running with it. I can’t believe
this.”

“They aren’t accusing you. They just
mentioned you were a suspect. And nobody used the word murder.”

Her laugh was bitter. “They can’t – they
don’t have a body.”

Scanning the story again, he whistled as he
finished reading. “I wonder what’s with the blood all over the
front seat. None of the other damaged Fae’s bodies were hurt. Maybe
Mick staged this.”

“He wouldn’t,” she said immediately. “Mick
hates pain. He would be incapable of cutting himself voluntarily,
even to stage his own death.”

“Are you certain of that?”

She thought of Mick, and his squeamishness at
the sight of blood, any blood. “Positive. If that blood belongs to
him, someone else hurt him.”

“Hmmm. That’s entirely possible, the way
things are going. We don’t even know what all is involved with
turning normal, healthy Fae into husks. Maybe taking blood is
involved.”

She stared. “Are you talking about vampirism?
Or some kind of ritualistic sacrifices?”

He didn’t seem to find her question odd.
“There’s a possibility either one might be involved.”

“Great.” She rubbed her temples. “You know
what will happen next, if we don’t get this under control? A couple
of uniforms will show up on my doorstep, ready to arrest me.”

“I wish we knew why getting you out of the
picture is so important to them. There’s got to be something we’re
missing.” He gave her a long look, considering. “We’ve got to get
back in that house.”

“I know. But with the police watching my
every move, that’s pretty damn impossible.”

“Go to bed, get some rest. Things will look
better in the morning. They always do.”

“Better in the morning, huh? You know, once
that used to be true, but not any more. These days, every time I
wake up, things have gotten worse.”

He held out his hand.

She hesitated for the space of a heartbeat,
then meshed her fingers with his. Holding on to him felt good.
Right. She wished she had enough nerve to ask him to come to her
bed with her. But it wasn’t fair either of them. Using sex merely
for distraction had never been a good idea, at least in her
life.

Hand in hand, they walked down the hall to
her room. At her door, he pulled free, staring down at her with an
inscrutable expression. Was he about to kiss her? Heart pounding,
she waited.

But he only murmured a quiet good night, and
turned away, leaving her feeling like a fool.

Alone.

Like she’d been all her life.

Though she thought she’d toss and turn all
night, once she’d crawled between the sheets, she drifted in that
shadowy realm between sleep and awakening. Images haunted her,
misty forms too indistinct to identify and others, starkly sensual,
of she and Cenrick.

She must have slept, because the next thing
she knew, an earsplitting buzzing startled her awake. The phone on
the nightstand was ringing loud enough to wake the dead.

She bolted up, confused and disoriented,
squinting at the clock. Two a.m. A phone call at this hour couldn’t
be good. Heart pounding, she grabbed the receiver. “Hello?”

“Dee. listen to me.” A man, whispering
urgently. She’d know that voice anywhere. “Mick?”

He didn’t respond. “You’re in danger. They’re
going to come for you. You’ve got to get out.”

“Who’s
they
, Mick? Where are you and
who is this Natasha? What’s she doing to you?”

He coughed, sounding as though he was gasping
for air. “No time. Please Dee, get out while you can.”

“Are you in danger?”

Silence.

“Mick, are you in danger?”

“I don’t think so.” Still whispering, he
sounded… confused. Then, more firmly. “No. I’m not.”

“Are you helping those people harm the
Fae?”

He made a sound, a harsh intake of breath.
“You know? How?”

Her heart sank. He hadn’t denied it. “Never
mind how I know. I want to know why. How could you do something so
horrible? What’s going on with you?”

“I can’t talk now. You’ve got to go, Dee.
Quickly.” “Run away? I can’t. They’re setting me up.”