Rocking Out Page 11

  Finn let out a dramatic sigh. ‘Yeah, that’s right – it’s not like I had anything to do with bringing down the old regime or anything. Not like I’m the guy who testified against his own auntie in her trial. Nope. I’m just a Peacemaker to you – even when I helped bring an end to that very organisation. Thanks, Diablo – you make me so glad that I went to all that effort.’

  Diablo sat down, muttering some choice words beneath his breath, and we approached the bar. Shane was sitting there waiting for us, and he was having a good long laugh at Finn and Diablo’s exchange.

  ‘You’re late,’ he said when we reached him. He had a plate full of curried chips in front of him, with cheese shredded on top. ‘I can’t stay much longer – you know today’s my day at the orphanage.’

  Finn had told me Shane volunteered at the orphanage on Eile Street. It gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling to think that we had someone so nice working for us. And I felt like he was nice. Not I’m hypnotising and poisoning you so you’ll think I’m nice in the way that Gabriel had been. Shane seemed like a genuine good guy. I felt as easy around him as I did around Max. But despite all of my warm, trusting feelings, I was going to wait and see. Because that’s the thing about being secretly dosed and hypnotised by a witch-vampire hybrid – it tends to leave you with one or two trust issues.

  ‘Sorry we’re late,’ said Finn. ‘It’s all Wanda’s fault.’

  ‘Hey!’ I smacked him on the arm and jumped up onto a stool next to Shane.

  The barman approached – he was a wizened old wizard with white hair and rheumy eyes – and asked what we wanted. His name was Hazmat. Apparently there was a long and hilarious story about why his name was Hazmat, but no one could ever stop laughing long enough to tell it. For now, I was content to call him Haz – and seeing as the Plain Old Cauldron had such an excellent reputation, I was almost certain that the food and drink he served didn’t actually contain hazardous materials.

  ‘Curry chips,’ I said. I’d known it as soon as I saw Shane’s. ‘Hold the cheese. Oh, and an OJ too, Haz.’

  ‘Same,’ said Finn. ‘Except I will have some cheese on top. Oh, and a large coffee for me instead of the juice.’

  Shane looked at me, a curious smile on his face. ‘So … I went into the Wyrd Court morgue this morning and did those autopsies on Pebbles and Twinkles.’

  ‘Oh?’ I kept my expression as even as I could. ‘And what did you find?’

  ‘Oh, y’know, the usual that you’d expect,’ Shane replied. ‘Natural causes, the way most familiars die when their witches do.’

  Finn’s eyes rounded. ‘Say that again?’

  ‘Why?’ Shane gave Finn a butter-wouldn’t-melt smile. ‘Isn’t that what you thought I’d find? I mean, why would it be anything else? Anything like, for example, poison? There’d be no reason why a person would want to kill those familiars by feeding them Jinx-laced catnip, now would there? Just like there’s no real reason why you told me that only I could do this autopsy, and that I couldn’t call in a veterinarian to help, or tell a single soul about it.’

  Well, I’d be more worried if Shane didn’t figure out something strange was going on, I guess. We hardly wanted an idiot working with us. And even though I’d expected him to reveal something along the lines of what he’d just told us, my stomach felt sick at the thought of what had happened to the cats. ‘Someone fed them Jinx?’ I said, my voice hollow. ‘Those poor cats.’

  ‘Those poor cats indeed,’ Shane agreed. ‘Jinx is being used in more and more murders these days, not just weredog murders the way it used to be. But I never thought I’d see it used on a cat. So tell me, Wanda, Finn – why would someone murder two familiars? What would be the point? They were going to die anyway, as soon as their witches were murdered. Or were they?’

  I glanced at Finn. Shane would have to know the truth if he was going to work with us. Paul knew, and so did Gretel. We could hardly leave him out. But how soon was too soon? Just as I was trying to decide what to say, our orders arrived.

  ‘Never mind,’ said Shane, chewing the last chip on his plate. ‘It’s need to know. I get it. So let’s change the subject. I’ve been thinking about the bite marks.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Finn, clearly relieved that Shane was talking about something else. ‘What about them? Have you managed to get some DNA?’

  Shane shook his head. ‘Unfortunately not. But I have found very faint traces of cleaning spells. Complicated magic, to wipe away all traces like that. And even more complicated because it’s so well-hidden. Whoever did this is incredibly talented. Covering your tracks so well takes more magic than you’d think. So why would Mack and Bryce do that? Leave their teeth marks there to be identified, but clean any other traces of themselves?’ He pushed his plate away and stood up. ‘I really don’t think this is some double bluff thing, something to cast doubt on their guilt. If that were the case, why not just bury the bodies, or burn them, or employ a witch to destroy them with a spell?’ He looked at me. ‘I think that when the real killer bit Alicia and Caitlyn, they used a doppelganger spell to do it.’

  Finn gasped. ‘That’s how they got their teeth to match! Doppelganger spells copy everything.’ He winked at me and gave me a cheeky grin. ‘You’d know all about that, Wanda.’

  I grimaced. No doubt he was thinking about when I’d pretended to be a Veronica Berry lookalike, in order to get close to a suspect. ‘Yeah, I would know all about that. Just like I know you couldn’t keep your mouth from hanging open when I looked like Veronica. Should I tell Lassie about your little crush when I’m inviting her to the retirement party?’

  He stopped grinning. ‘Please don’t. Anyway, thanks so much Shane. And don’t worry – our overtime rates are decent. You’ll be compensated for missing your morning off.’

  Shane put on his jacket. ‘Whatever. I want to catch the real killer as much as you do. I’ll see you on Monday morning.’

  ‘You won’t be at Dennis’s party?’ I called after him.

  He paused. ‘No can do. I’m taking the kids from the orphanage out to a bowling alley tonight.’

  Oh my! Shane was handsome, skilled and selfless. Why couldn’t I fall for a guy like that?

  As he closed the door behind him, Finn stole one of my chips and said, ‘Maybe I’m not the only one with a crush. I could put in a good word for you if you like. Shane is single, y’know. Although I’m not sure about the whole fraternising with colleagues thing. Is it a good idea?’ He shrugged. ‘Who cares? The Major Crimes team that plays together is the Major Crimes team that stays together, I say. So I’ll keep a blind eye for now if you want to get it on with him down in the morgue.’

  I slapped his hand away from my plate. ‘Eat your own chips, Finny boy. And don’t worry about me fraternising with colleagues, either. It’ll be a long time before I look at a guy with anything other than suspicion.’

  ‘Sure it will, Wanda. Sure it will.’

  18. The Dreamlike Dance of Not-Love

  I was beginning to think I should have stayed at home. The biggest achievements of my day so far had been hearing the autopsy results, and eating curried chips. I could have done both those things from the comfort of my couch.

  Seeing as modern technology wasn’t getting us any closer to Alpha, Finn and I probably should have done the wise thing and given up until Paul came to work the next morning. But we weren’t wise. We were those gluttons you hear of sometimes – the ones who never seem to turn down a chance of punishment.

  We punished our fingers by clicking our way to every venue Alpha had played recently. We punished our sanity by asking people the same questions, over and over, only to get the same answer every time. ‘You looking for Alpha? Em … I dunno. Maybe try their manager or something?’

  We’d figured that they would be more likely to yield to pressure in person than they had been over the phone. We figured wrong. No one seemed to know who they were or where they lived.

  Following the money trail that led from Murphy to Frenton had s
eemed too easy. And it had seemed that way because it was. I had the unshakable sense that that little bit of evidence had been little more than a dangled carrot. Alpha were playing a game with us. Apparently you can be a terrible musician and a criminal mastermind.

  The only lead we had was the Frenton Carver we’d found online. At five that afternoon we managed to track him down at a golf club in a human enclave in London. He was sitting in the bar quaffing some brandy and smoking a cigar (don’t ask me why people always seem to quaff brandy instead of drink it the normal way – they just do).

  ‘Frenton Carver?’ Finn held out his Wayfarer badge. ‘We’d like a word.’

  He stopped quaffing and, even though he was sitting and we were standing, he somehow managed to look down on us. ‘At least you weren’t stupid enough to wear your uniforms to a human golf club,’ he said. ‘What do you want? And make it quick – I’m getting a massage in a few minutes.’

  I held back a smirk. Ambling around a golf club and then spending the rest of the afternoon relaxing in the bar was definitely going to leave a person in need of a massage.

  ‘We’ll be as long as we like,’ said Finn. ‘Do you have a son, Mr Carver? Also called Frenton?’

  He stamped out his cigar. ‘What’s the little twerp gone and done now? Because I’m not bailing him out. Not again. I told him – if he doesn’t come and work in my bank, he’s cut off.’

  I’d known a lot of werewolves in my time, but Frenton Carver was something new to me. I knew that not all werewolves had wild and carefree careers, but banking just seemed like such an odd choice.

  ‘I mean, why does the stupid little pup always have to disappoint me?’ he went on. ‘Banking is a good career. I basically get paid for spending other people’s money. And the hours are amazing. I never have to worry about taking the full moon off.’ He shook his head and quaffed some more brandy. ‘Anyway, you’re a saucy looking bit of stuff,’ he said to me, switching, momentarily, from looking down on me to looking me up and down. ‘If you ever get sick of this Wayfarer nonsense, I’m always on the look-out for new secretaries. I like my little ladies to have a bit of meat on their bones.’

  I shuddered. ‘We’re looking for your son, Mr Carver. As well as the rest of the band he’s in. Alpha. Have you got an address or a phone number, perhaps?’

  He sat back, looking perplexed. ‘Why would I want to get in touch with him? When he told me he wanted a career in music, I told him not to darken my door until he came to his senses. And he’s gone and called his band Alpha? I sincerely doubt my little twerp is the alpha of whatever second rate pack he’s wormed his way into.’

  Finn stared at him. ‘You’re seriously telling us you have no way of getting in touch with your son?’

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘I am seriously telling you that. I’m also telling you to move to the left a bit – there’s a nice bit of totty walking in, and I want to get a better look at her.’

  ≈

  We walked out of the golf club, looking for a quiet spot in which to click our fingers and send ourselves back to Ireland.

  ‘You look like your head feels just as wrecked as mine,’ said Finn with a sigh.

  ‘That’s because it does,’ I replied. ‘Who would have thought that a band would be so hard to track down? Alpha are definitely involved with these murders. We just need to figure out how to find them.’

  He reached out and squeezed my shoulder. ‘We will, Wanda. But right now, we go home, we get our glad rags on, and we head to Dennis’s retirement party. Then, only after too many drinks, a lot of food, and a good night’s sleep … only then do we make a plan.’

  I smiled at him. ‘Did I ever tell you you’re not the worst boss in the world?’

  ≈

  Dennis’s retirement party was at Three Witches Brew. The brothers who ran the tavern had gone all out for the occasion. There was a buffet table creaking under the weight of countless dishes. There was a champagne fountain, and a Superbrew fountain too. Most people were going for the Superbrew.

  The Call of the Wild had been booked to play, but Minx – an all-girl group – were filling in instead. I almost wished Dennis had opted for Alpha. Sure, it was probably impolite to turn someone’s retirement party into an investigation, but I wanted to grill that band so bad!

  Sadie, Dennis’s wife, looked happier than I’d ever seen her. She regaled us all with tales of how they were going to spend their retirement. She had finished up her own job as a teacher two years earlier, and she was clearly eager to get on with the rest of her life.

  As I watched them circulate and chat with their friends, I couldn’t help but wonder if my own life would be all work and no play right up until retirement. Sure, I was doing a job that I loved. But what if I never found a partner like Sadie? Someone who would put up with all the long hours and postponed date nights?

  ‘You look far too maudlin,’ said my father, handing me a tankard of Superbrew. ‘Is it the case you’re working on?’

  I sipped some of the drink. ‘A bit,’ I told him. ‘But don’t ask me anymore about it or I’ll never shut up. Are you having a good time?’

  ‘It’s good to spend some time with Max again,’ he replied with a smile, pointing to a corner table where he and Max had their chess game set up. ‘And to see everyone let their hair down. The women of the coven are certainly enjoying themselves.’

  I glanced across the bar. A small dancing area had been cleared close to the band, and Christine had her arms wrapped around Kevin Caulfield while they swayed to the music. Next to them, Ronnie was dancing with Arthur Albright, my former Tall Tales teacher. I grinned at the sight. Ronnie and Christine had been hit by the love potion pretty hard, too. There was a point where poor Arthur was considering taking out a restraining order. I was heartened to see their fledgling relationships back on track.

  Melissa was dancing too, with a succession of good-looking guys. She looked amazing in a strapless red dress, and she grinned and laughed as she moved from one guy to another on the floor. But I had grown up with Melissa, and I knew her moods as well as I knew my own. Despite the smile she wore, she was far from happy. I wondered if I should tell her about my Alpha suspicions. But what if it all came to nothing? I didn’t want to get her hopes up if I couldn’t follow through.

  I had invited Lassie, because a deal is a deal. But I wasn’t really sure why I bothered. When we walked in, Finn just gave her a cursory greeting and proceeded to chat up every other woman in the tavern. I was guessing he’d decided to play hard to get. I wanted to tell him he was a big, stupid idiot for doing so, but weirdly enough his tactic seemed to be working. Lassie danced and chatted with other guys, but all the while she was looking at Finn. Not just looking, but looking longingly.

  I shook my head, mystified. Sure Finn’s plan was working – but he was still an idiot. They both were. I’d been staying out of things as much as I could, because I knew Lassie needed time to get over her last boyfriend, Connor, who was murdered by Will’s aunt. But now, it seemed that Lassie liked Finn just as much as he liked her – and if things didn’t happen between them soon, then I was going to have to meddle.

  ‘Ah, there’s my boy now.’ My dad slapped Max on the back as he returned from the bar. ‘Ready to get back to it?’

  Max passed me a bowl filled with peanuts. ‘Got these for you,’ he said. ‘I’m gonna go trash your dad at chess now, but can we have a dance in a while?’

  ‘Definitely’ I said, shoving some nuts into my mouth.

  ≈

  There are certain action movies in existence, action movies in which something bad always happens to the guy who’s about to retire from the force. With the odd way in which this case was progressing, I had been a little afraid that we could be in for such a scenario tonight. Luckily, it was only in my overactive imagination. In reality, the whole night was a dream. It was almost as good as breakfast and cartoons had been earlier that day.

  Max lost the game to my dad, and then joined me for our
dance. Then we had a second dance. Then a third. Even when Minx changed the tempo and started to play a slow number, we kept right on dancing. I felt like we might dance all night.

  ‘I feel like I could dance with you all night long, Wanda,’ Max murmured into my ear, echoing my thoughts.

  ‘I was just thinking the same thing,’ I whispered back.

  ‘I mean, I might take a break to feed you some pretzels at some point. Or maybe some more peanuts. Or some vegan cheese on crackers. But only so you’ll have the energy to keep right on dancing.’

  I laughed into his shoulder. ‘You know me way too well. Vegan cheese on crackers sounds pretty good to me. But maybe after just one more song.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He rubbed his chin against my hair. ‘Just one more song.’

  I heard myself let out a happy little sigh against his shoulder. Yip, this was even better than cartoons and breakfast in bed. This was probably even better than dancing with my dream man. Sure, this wasn’t the dreamlike dance of love, as it had been in the dream. But the residual love-potion swimming through my system made it feel like a dance of love and familiarity all at once. Whatever it was – or wasn’t – it was perfect, and I wished the song would never end.

  ‘Ahem.’

  I turned dazedly to look at the ahem-er. All of the happiness drained out of me, and I felt my shoulders begin to sag. I felt Max’s body sag too, even though he kept on holding me tight.

  ‘Hey Emily,’ he said. ‘Thought you were busy making chocolate tonight.’

  She looked like she was still making chocolate, in fact. Her apron was covered with chocolate and butter stains, and her hair smelled good enough to eat. There was a big dollop of what seemed to be raspberry sauce on the right side of her mouth. It looked delicious.

  ‘I decided to finish it off tomorrow,’ she said. ‘One of my girlfriends phoned me to tell me what a wonderful time everyone was having at Three Witches Brew, so I figured I might just pop on over and see what it was all about. I was hoping we could enjoy the last dance of the night together, Max. But if you and Wanda are having too nice a time, then …’