Ah. Now I got it. “And without charms, none of your guys are willing to tell the press about me for fear I’ll retaliate. Is that it?” She had the decency to blush slightly. She covered it well, but I knew it bugged her. “Y’know, I can’t see any wins for me in this situation, Alex. There’s no way to know if a charm made with samples from me would be effective against other sirens, even if the department witch added extra oomph. If I give you DNA to make charms, then cops who already don’t like me will go public or use them for God knows what. The press will hound me and I won’t be able to do my job. What’s my incentive?”

She shrugged slender shoulders and flipped her short blonde hair just as I heard a click. It sounded just like the little digital recorder I used for keeping notes. She was taping our conversation? Okay, that’s a total violation of multiple laws. But all of a sudden she relaxed into her chair and let out a snort. Apparently with the taping done, she could now be open about her own opinion of the department decree. “Precisely. I tried to tell them you weren’t stupid and would figure that out. But I said I would try. And I have. I’d do exactly what you did and refuse. It’s ridiculous. Our own department witch couldn’t give any opinion about the charm’s effectiveness. She said we’d just have to try it and see. But she didn’t like the idea, either. Too risky, she said.”

“You know I could sue the department, and you, for taping this without permission?”

She nodded but didn’t say anything out loud—probably thinking I’d been doing the same thing. I wasn’t but should have been, damn it. “As a favor, I would appreciate a formal refusal … on the record.” She put her hand back in her pocket. “Ready?”

I held up a hand. “Wait. Let’s talk this out for a second.” This might be a golden opportunity for some backroom dealing. I needed to tell someone official what was going on at the prison. Yes, Jones might take care of it, or his company might have been the cause of it. Tough to tell with shadowy government organizations. “I agree that the police should be immune to mental manipulation—even from me. That just makes sense. And I know people who would know what kind of charm would be effective against all sirens. What I’m leery about is giving the samples and how we can be absolutely positive that that’s all they’re used for. And frankly, I have a problem that you might be able to solve … or at least help solve. So, I’ll make you a deal.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “I’m listening.”

“The trick is that I can’t tell you everything about my problem without involving other people who don’t want to be involved.”

A second nod. “Still listening. Not liking, but listening.”

“First, let’s put the device on the desk, where we can both see that I’m not about to make an ‘open-mic gaffe.’ ”

The slim silver and black recorder was on the desk in moments. It was a tape unit, rather than digital. Not a big surprise. A lot of cops were back to using tapes after a recent case in Michigan where a digital recording had been altered by a simple spell. It had been good for the local economy. The tape-manufacturing plant at the edge of town that had closed in the nineties was back open and working three shifts to supply the sudden demand.

The tape wasn’t moving, but just to be safe Alex took out the microcassette and set it on the desk next to the unit. I took a deep breath and let it out slow as she reached for the red and silver can in front of her and took a long drink.

“There’s a demonic presence possessing guards and prisoners out at the zoo. I want the police to get some priests out there to cleanse the place before it spreads.”

Apparently, this bore no relation to whatever she’d thought I was going to say. Her eyes went wide and she spewed a mouthful of cola across my desk. I managed to scoot back fast to keep the spray off of my shirt. I grabbed tissues and started to clean spit and soda off the polished wood—and the tape and tape recorder. Her coughing fit would have made me laugh in other circumstances. Not today. Finally Alex got control of herself and said, “Excuse me? Why do you think that?”

I leaned back in my chair, my head swimming. So many things I couldn’t say. “That’s the part I can’t tell you about. What I can say is that it showed on a detector and I confirmed it visually.” I held up my hands helplessly and stared into her wide green eyes. I knew I was asking for a lot. For a local police detective to question a state facility was bucking ten levels of protocol. Yes, I could call one of the warrior-priest organizations, but I’d be put on a list to check it out. A request from Alex would go to the top of the pile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to trust me on this. You know I wouldn’t ask unless I felt it was important.”

She began to tap her fingers on the desk. I didn’t realize she chewed her nails. I’d never noticed before. But they were down to bleeding on some fingers. She looked troubled. I needed to convince her, but how?

“Wait! Vicki was there, too. Would you do it if she confirmed it?”

Alex’s whole face brightened. It was well established in law that ghosts couldn’t lie.

Alex looked up. Her voice dropped to a reverent whisper. “Vick? You there, hon?”

There was no response. No chilling of the room, no breeze moving my hair. I was sorry but not surprised. “She was pretty tired. Did she visit you at all yesterday?”

Alex nodded. “She showed up right at dusk and listened while I ranted about my day. It’s not … not like it used to be, but it’s something. She left suddenly. I presume because you called?” There was a pain in her voice that I was powerless to remove. I didn’t know why Vicki would choose being with me in a crisis over being with her hurt and lonely lover. The siren queens claim Vicki’s my spirit guardian. I don’t know about that. I do know our friendship was strong enough to survive the grave. That’s enough in my book.

“She’ll probably be back later today. You can ask her then, when I can’t give her any hints. If it checks out, will you go?”

“That’s your only condition? You’ll give the samples if I do it?”

Now it was my turn to tap fingers. “I’d still like to check out what the charm needs to do … and not do. And I want guarantees there’ll be precautions against the samples being misused. But by tomorrow we should both know. Deal?”

She nodded. “What I can do until I hear from Vicki is check the board and the incoming bulletins, see if there have been reports of anything strange out there. I can do that without alerting anyone. We’re all supposed to look at those anyway, and I’m behind on them.” She smoothed her skirt as she stood. “If what you say is true, I’ll do whatever I have to do to get the priests out there, even if I have to drive one there myself.” She picked up the cassette and put it back in the machine. Without asking if I was ready, she pushed the record button. She remembered just where she left off. “Your incentive is to do the right thing. For yourself, for the people of this city, and for all of us who protect them.”

It was all true and, again, I didn’t disagree with the concept. I paused an appropriate length of time before responding. “I want to talk to a mage I know to find out more about the process … and the consequences. Call me tomorrow about this same time and I’ll have an answer for you. Deal?”

She reached across the desk with her right hand and also met my eyes in a way that wasn’t for the tape. “Deal.”

After a few more pleasantries to show she had taped the whole interview—as such—she left. I sat in my chair, thinking a thousand different thoughts.

6

By the time I went downstairs, to both stretch my legs and take the soggy, sticky tissues to the main trash can in the kitchen—which got emptied every day, unlike mine, which I dumped whenever I got around to it—the investigator had arrived. I’d only worked with Shawn Beall once before, but he’d done a good job and had only charged for his actual time. When you’re a sole proprietor, money is the bottom line—regardless of the client’s ability to pay. My goal was not to gouge Vicki’s estate. I wanted the truth, whether it came cheap or expensive. But cheap was always better.

Shawn followed me back to my office and took the chair Alex had so recently vacated. Shawn is one of those guys you wouldn’t really look at twice. He looks like a computer geek … and he is. But the small frame, unruly dark hair, and pop bottle glasses hide a sneaky, near-criminal mind and a surprisingly athletic body. He’s got the wiry frame and agility of a long-distance runner along with the determination of a pit bull. The combination is the gold standard of a good investigator.

“So, what have you got for me?”

He pulled an envelope from an inner jacket pocket and handed it over. “Wish I had more, but there’s more dead ends than leads. Take a look. I’ll answer any questions I can.”

I slit the envelope and scanned the pages inside. The first page was a profile of one Michael Murphy, known as Mickey or Mick to family and friends. The photo was just as I remembered him at Vicki’s Will reading. Carrot orange hair was neatly combed to the side and a scattering of freckles dotted his face below vivid green eyes. I remembered a cultured southern accent that got stronger the more befuddled he was. There had been plenty to be surprised about that day. The only person more shocked than her parents, best friend, and lover to learn that Vicki had left a quarter of her multimillion-dollar estate to a total stranger was the stranger himself.

I’d been tasked to find out why she’d done it.

I was still wrapping my head around the fact that she’d trusted her clairvoyant gift enough to write a Will that would inevitably be challenged. While it was no crime to give money to a total stranger, it was a little odd and might lend credence to her mother’s allegation that Vicki wasn’t in her right mind.

So, my goal was to prove there was a good and valid reason for my friend’s act before the lawsuit went to court. Fortunately, the law firm Vicki had used was one of the best in the state, so I was pretty sure I’d have all the time I needed to search.