Grave Witch, page 2
"Oh." Gertrude leaned back. "Surveillance photos?"
"Nothing, only an eyewitness on a break."
"And they saw one of my people steal it?"
Kage was about to interfere, but Christopherson kept talking as if he wasn't there.
"Nope." He popped the p as if this whole situation was a joke. "Saw one of them close to it."
Gertrude nodded. "Same bullshit as always." She repeated Christopherson's earlier words while exhaustion crept into her eyes.
"I have to ask them all, or Hamilton will have my balls. He'll send a couple of uniforms to prove a point, and we'll have to go through the whole shootout at the gate again, or a blown-up wall, or a group dragging everyone to the square." Christopherson rubbed his forehead and sighed, and it was the most alive Kage had seen him in months. How could he be more relaxed within community walls, sitting face to face with the most dangerous woman in the county, than he was at the station surrounded by his colleagues?
Kage narrowed his eyes, but before he could analyze the situation more, the door opened without a knock. A tall man, not as tall as Gilbert, but taller than Kage, walked into the room. His gaze fell on Christopherson and never left him. There was no hostility in his eyes, and his motions remained relaxed as he pulled out the chair and sat next to Gertrude.
"Mr. Argall, where were you around nine fifteen this morning?"
The man, presumably Mr. Argall, gave Christopherson a soft smile, and Kage stared. What the fuck was going on?
"My boyfriend had left for work not long before. I think I was with Chaton and Asher by nine fifteen. After...my partner left, I headed to Chaton's. It's crate day tomorrow, so I offered to pick the sugar snaps and some leafy greens since Chaton wanted to deal with the currants." He turned to Gertrude. "Did you pick the currants in my garden?"
"No, gooseberries."
He nodded. "I'll pick the currants tomorrow, then. Chaton wanted to try a red currant salsa. Don't know if it's anything fit for the crates, but he said we can only make so many jams and jellies--"
"Excuse me." Kage didn't know what the fuck was going on, but he hadn't come here to swap recipes.
Silence fell, and everyone looked at him. "Can anyone confirm you were with...eh...Asher and..."
Mr. Argall blinked. "Asher and Chaton can confirm it. I waved at Namir when I passed his house, and I spoke to Olivia and Eden. They were out in Esme's garden."
Christopherson nodded. "Thank you. Have the others arrived?"
"Alice was outside when I walked in."
Christopherson smiled. "Send her in."
Next followed a small, dark-haired woman, who'd been on guard duty, so loads of people could confirm she was where she said she was. Lucille, a slender, black woman with short hair shaved on the sides, had been helping Arnou and Ashina paint a fence on Wolf Street.
Kage hadn't known they had street names within the walls. He'd never walked around in there, had only ever come to the gates, but he believed about a hundred people lived here.
He was growing more and more frustrated. It wasn't that he wanted to make an arrest, but the way everyone spoke as if this was a joke made him want to snap. When Gabriel, the last suspect, entered and greeted Christopherson, nodded at Gertrude, and ignored Kage, he was ready to snarl.
"I was on Wolf Street." Gabriel pulled out the chair and sat.
"When?" Christopherson didn't question how he knew what they would ask.
"Zeeve, Conan, Lyall, Lupita, Neoma, and I had a barbecue yesterday evening, and I slept on Zeeve's couch instead of heading home. In the morning, we helped Eir replace some fence posts. I think Arnou and the gang are gonna help her paint tomorrow if the weather stays good."
Christopherson nodded. "Okay, thank you. We'll be in touch if we have any further questions."
"Was that all, Constable?" Gertrude knocked at the tabletop.
"For now. Who knows how far he'll go. Worst case scenario we'll be back with a search warrant or something else stupid. Sorry."
She reached across the table and patted his hand. "Everyone understands you have to do your job." Then she stood and headed for the door.
As soon as they were alone, Kage turned to Christopherson. "What the fuck?"
He gave Kage a blank look. "What?"
"You didn't ask them!" He didn't know why he was angry. Because he felt left out. Because they were all in on a secret he knew nothing about.
"Ask them what?"
"If they stole the bike." Kage curled his hands into fists underneath the tabletop.
"They didn't. I know it. You know it. They know it. Everyone knows this is a waste of time and money and an abuse of power. Why should we harass them at night? How could this not have waited until morning?"
"You didn't interrogate them."
Christopherson waved a hand. "Why should I? We can't arrest anyone here. They all have alibis."
"What do you mean we can't arrest anyone?"
"Because we're on community land. Human law does not apply here."
Kage stilled. "What?"
"This is like a country within the country. Our laws do not apply here."
It didn't make any sense. "Then why are we here?"
Christopherson sighed. "Because you told me we had to go. You wanted us to come here. You wanted to interrupt their evening with stupid questions."
Kage was quiet for a bit. "You don't think any of them did it."
"No. Do you?"
"They were seen..."
"They? Did Miles Parrow say if it was a man or a woman who stole the bike? Alice and Gilbert aren't exactly similar, are they? If someone saw them, they should be able to say I saw a petite woman or a large man. Did they see them take the bike? When did you last see a community member in town?"
Kage didn't answer. He had never seen a community member in town, at least not anyone he recognized as a community member.
"They don't come into town?"
"No. There are a few who work outside the walls, but most of them don't leave the community. Everything they buy is delivered to the gate. They used to come into town more often, but these days it's not safe for them. Hamilton is jerking off in his office to the fantasy of having one of them in a cell, and everyone knows it. They know it won't matter if they're exemplary citizens, if he and his goons--" He tipped his hand at Kage, which made him want to snarl at him. "--can get their hands on them, they're in for a world of torture. They won't risk it by coming into town. And if they do, they make sure to come as a group. Safety in numbers."
Kage tried to calm his temper. Christopherson had some nerve. "So the eyewitness is lying?"
"Of course he is. Have you ever spoken to Mr. Parrow? His biggest problem is one of the girls he had the hots for used to frequent The Virgin Drop. She liked vampires." He gave Kage an unimpressed look.
Kage glared. "I've spoken to him." Not about the missing bike, though. Christopherson handled that on his own.
"Then you know what he's like." Christopherson gathered his folder and pushed it into his bag. "Let's go, so we can end this fucking day."
Kage wanted to say something about getting a warrant, so they could search for the bike on community land, but he kept his mouth shut. Mr. Parrow might be lying, but he might be telling the truth, and they should take it seriously. He'd ask Hamilton about it.
Gilbert was glaring at him as they exited, but the old woman--had Christopherson called her Clara?--smiled and waved at them as she locked the gate after they had exited.
* * * *
Gilbert woke the next morning to a gnawing hunger. Not hunger for food, but for blood. He had to find someone to feed from. Life had been so much easier when The Virgin Drop had been up and running. There was always someone offering their services when he was there, but in the year since it had closed, life as a vampire had grown significantly harder.
He got out of bed and put on clothes. Breakfast. It wouldn't cure the need for blood, but it'd help his control some.
Once he'd eaten, he stepped out on his wrap-around porch. For the first time, he was growing tomatoes in pots on it. He had a row of plants along the entire wall, and it gave him a lot more pleasure to tend to them than he'd believed it would.
Maybe he should get chickens too. He scrunched his nose. He didn't like birds. Unpredictable, flapping creatures. No. He didn't think birds were for him. Rabbits? He pushed the thought away--too cute to kill, and he wasn't getting a pet. Times were hard enough as they were without him having an animal to care for. Unless it was a cat, perhaps. They could hunt on their own if he were unable to buy cat food, right? Would a cat want to live this close to shifters? He didn't want it to be frightened.
Nah, he'd grow more things instead. He stepped off the porch and steered his steps toward Chaton's house. It was crate day. He'd go get his crate and ask what he could grow this late in the season.
The streets were mostly empty, the sun already hot enough to make him sweat as he walked. When the jungle of Chaton's garden came into view, he stopped and looked at it from afar. Could he turn his garden into something similar? He didn't have Rue's magic, but he could contribute.
Walking closer, he winced as he spotted a couple of people waiting outside the door. He wasn't in the mood for small talk, and most often, people quieted when he got closer. He didn't know if it was because he was a vampire and most shifters were a bit weird when it came to his kind, or if it was because he hadn't bonded with anyone since he moved here. Most people were exhausting. He didn't mind Jasper, but Jasper most often hung out with Asher and Noah, and Asher was exhausting. Always talking and wanting to discuss the most ridiculous things. Last time they'd spoken, Asher had asked him if he believed there were turtle shifters, and if so, wouldn't it be cool if one moved here.
Exhausting.
He walked closer, but luckily the door opened to let the ones who'd been waiting inside. Oh, maybe he was so early, they hadn't opened for the day yet. He walked in under the trellis arching over the walkway when motion to his right caught his attention.
It was Rue. He hadn't seen him many times and had never spoken to him. Most often, he wasn't around when it was crate day. At least not when Gilbert was picking his crate up.
"Rue?"
Rue jerked and whirled around, liquid gold pouring out of his hand, and a vine of...beans maybe...was curling around his wrist. "Oh, hi."
"Hi, sorry to bother you." He stared as the gold disappeared, but the plant still clung to him. He'd never seen anything like it.
"It's okay, I only..." He waved a hand. "Get lost in my head. Did you say something?"
Gilbert followed the walkway between the garden beds. He'd never walked around in here. He only walked to the door and then straight out to the road again. There were plants everywhere, and he guessed there had to be for there to be enough to feed as many people as they did.
"I have a few tomato plants on my porch--"
"You want me to come and sprinkle them?" Rue tipped his hand, and new liquid gold rained over the plants.
"No, or I mean, maybe, but it wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about. Is it too late to grow things now? I know it's July, and I should've dug up the lawn back in spring to have a chance to make a difference, but--"
Rue smiled, and Gilbert's voice died away. When had someone smiled at him last? Not a smile in greeting, but a real smile.
"It's not too late. There are a lot of things you can plant in July and still get a decent harvest."
"Yeah?" Was it excitement bubbling in his chest? It was something foreign, at least, and he hadn't been excited about anything in a long time.
"Yes. Loads of things."
"Like?"
"Peppers and tomatoes and those kinds of plants are shot at this point. You could take a chance on cucumbers, but if we have an early frost--" He grimaced. "To be sure, go with peas, leafy greens, beets, you could do carrots. They take a long time to mature, but they can take a quick freeze without problem. Napa cabbage is perfect to sow now, and kale in all shapes and forms." His gaze turned dreamy. "There are loads of things. Radishes. Turnips. It's the heat-loving crops you're too late for, the rest you can do."
Gilbert didn't have a clue which crops were heat-loving, and which were not, but something close to anticipation was growing at the idea of a vegetable garden. Since The Virgin Drop had blown up, he hadn't done anything. He hadn't loved being a bartender, not at all, if he was to be honest, but he'd had a purpose.
He'd moved to the community thirteen years ago after having been on his own for over ten years and feeling more lost than ever. He'd traveled with a group of other vampires for a few decades, but they'd fought about everything from what they'd have for lunch to when it was time to move on from the city they'd lived in at the time, to whose turn it was to do the laundry.
All he'd wanted was to get away, so he'd left. He hadn't missed them. At first, he'd been relieved, but after a few years, he'd grown lonely. The problem was people exhausted him. He wanted to have someone he could relax around, not someone who stole his energy.
When the climate had grown more hostile toward supernaturals, he'd searched for a community. He regretted the day he'd gotten registered. If he'd been unregistered, he was sure he could've kept moving from city to city with a few years' interval and slipped under the radar, but every database in the universe had him tagged as a vampire now.
Hiding wasn't an option, and a community was the second-best thing. So he'd moved in within the walls. He respected Gertrude, and the rest of the people living here left him alone, so all was good. A bit boring, but good.
"You could do potatoes."
Gilbert startled at Rue's voice. "Yeah?"
He nodded. "Or maybe not. You could in containers, but not where there's been lawn. Larvae, I think. Ask Chaton. He said not to grow potatoes where there's been grass until it's been a year or something. They did last year and had to throw a portion of the harvest away." He shrugged. "What's your goal? Do you want to make sure you have a little extra for yourself, or do you want to help the community?"
When Gilbert didn't reply straight away, Rue hurried on. "It's fine if you want to do it for yourself. We do it for the community because we like gardening, and we don't want to do guard duty, but..." He winced. "You have a big garden, right? Live close to the north wall?"
Gilbert nodded.
"If you wanted to turn it into a large garden to supplement what we do, it would be great." He held up his hands as if to ward off an objection. "No one would be trampling around in your space, and you'd get to decide what to keep for yourself and what to give, but..." He tipped his hand. "I could come by now and then and sprinkle some magic."
"Sure." Gilbert was surprised to hear himself speak. What had he agreed to?
* * * *
Chapter 3
Kage straightened his back as he met Hamilton's gaze over the desk.
"A warrant?" Hamilton's voice was clipped.
"I don't know if it would make a difference, sir, but Christopherson said we can't search the community, so I figured if we had a warrant..." He let the sentence trail off.
Hamilton nodded, and a gleam took over his eyes. "Of course. I'll make sure you have it on your desk within the hour."
Kage nodded and exited the office. He'd come in extra early to be able to talk to Hamilton without Christopherson knowing, though he didn't think Christopherson cared. It had become clear yesterday that he didn't trust Kage, and for good reason. He was sneaking around behind his back, reporting his actions to their boss. Kage hadn't cared since he hadn't believed he'd be here for this long. Myrfolk was supposed to be a pit stop.
The trail had led him here, but he was yet to find a name and a place. He couldn't raise a John or Jane Doe from the depths. He didn't have the powers. He needed to find someone who had knowledge about The Virgin Drop before Gertrude Pechtold bought it. Before it had been community-owned, it had been owned by a vampire clan, but he'd been through the archive a million times already, and there were no names.
There was one report that mentioned a dead vampire, Zella, but he didn't have a last name, and he needed a last name and preferably a middle name to be able to raise her. And her place of death.
A thunk made him look up. Christopherson stood by his desk, rifling through his bag. The folder from yesterday was on the surface and must've been what made the sound.
"Morning."
Christopherson looked at him, a grim expression on his face. "Morning. Ready to head over to the grocery store to talk to Mr. Parrow?"
Kage glanced toward Hamilton's office. He was on the phone with someone. A judge? He'd said he'd have a warrant within the hour. "Eh...It's still early."
"They open now, so better get there before there's a crowd."
"Did you know Zella?"
Christopherson stilled, a small frown forming between his eyebrows. "Who?"
"Zella. She gave information to the police about the community a couple of years ago, claiming to have evidence of a murder taking place there. The report is inconsistent." It was sparse, and he had the feeling whoever had been in charge of the case hadn't cared one way or the other about a crime being committed in the community.
"The one who tried to sell Rue into slavery?"
Kage watched him. He'd never heard anything about slavery. "What? Who?"
"Rue, he's...eh...one of the humans in the community. He's living with Noah, one of the vampires."
Another vampire. "Why didn't we interview him yesterday?"
"He never worked at The Virgin Drop."
Right, he'd mentioned a name or two to Gertrude of vampires they didn't need to talk to. Maybe they should have. "And Zella tried to sell the human into slavery?"
Christopherson was quiet for a long time, then he sighed. "Rue is a former blood slave. Gertrude freed him when she took over The Virgin Drop, but all this was before my time. I don't know the details."
It was a lead. If he could talk to Rue, get the names of the other slaves and employees, he might get the name he needed.
