More Than Meets the Eye Page 7

  She turned a corner, almost to the post office, when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A van had pulled up to the same corner where she had just been.

  Forcing herself not to rush, she made her way through the post office parking lot and, as she opened the door of the establishment, she saw the writing on the side of the van as it drove passed on the street; George’s Landscape Service.

  No doubt about it; he was following her and not Jake.

  Chapter 11

  Tasha was tapping her pen on the polished surface of her desk. She’d been distracted most of the day, her mind dwelling on the fact that Richard Roberts was following her.

  She’d discretely checked outside a number of times during that day and had seen the van parked in the shadows of one building or another.

  Jake outwardly seemed calm and unaffected by the hunter’s efforts of surveillance, but Tasha noticed a slight tightness around his eyes.

  She finally asked him about it.

  “Of course I’m concerned, but not for me. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing so for over a hundred years.”

  Tasha nodded and asked hesitantly, “How old are you, anyway?” Tasha had asked a number of times and had finally stopped asking. Anytime she’d asked about his werewolf-ness in the past, he deflected, avoided or plain ignored her questions.

  Evidently, the time for avoidance was over because this time he answered her. “I’m one hundred and thirty three.”

  “Is that young or old for a werewolf?”

  Jake shrugged. “My Granddad is still alive, so I guess I’d still be considered a youngish man. Wolf. Whatever.”

  “And where is your Granddad?” she asked carefully, afraid of frightening him off.

  “My entire family is in Scotland. And, before you ask, I have three older brothers and a sister who is younger than me. I’ve been in America just over one hundred years. And, I’d rather not talk about why I’m here and not there.”

  “How long have you been in River City?”

  “About ninety years.”

  Tasha shook her head and chewed on her lower lip. “I’m having a little trouble getting my head around that. My life is so finite. And yours is, well, not. It’s weird.”

  Jake smiled slightly, world-weary.

  Tasha was about to ask him another question, when something on the television caught her attention. She had seen her friends Avery and Gil on the screen, so she grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

  Jake, having observed her action, turned to face the flat screen.

  The Pretty Little Red Haired Reporter, as they liked to call her, was at a crime scene. “found a body while he was jogging. Police say they are in the process of identifying the remains, and have declined to comment on the nature of the victim’s death. Jim, back to you.”

  “Wonder what’s up?” Tasha asked, to which Jake simply shrugged.

  Chapter 12

  Burly, proprietor of Burley’s Pub, was a bear of a man. He wasn’t especially tall, but he was, well, burly. He had beefy hands attached to beefy arms. His big barrel of a torso sat atop beefy, sturdy legs. His salt and pepper hair curled in an unruly way about his head that perfectly complemented his bushy beard. His eyes were dark, with deep lines at the corners from both laughter and worry. His eyes could twinkle with merriment as well as glint hard as steal with dangerous intent. All in all, he was a good natured being with a big, ready laugh, but also ready to take care of business, either at a moment’s notice.

  Burly’s Pub was, for all intents and purposes the primary hangout for the supernatural set.

  It was, for the most part, free of humans. Only those humans who were accepted by the fae, but most importantly, by Burly himself, were allowed to come and go as they pleased. Any human could enter, but, unless they were accepted, they never stayed, thanks to certain glamours set upon the place.

  All in all it was a supernatural’s refuge from the human world.

  It was not simply a drinking establishment. It was a throwback from days gone by. It was a place for fae to connect. They would come to talk, play chess or cards or billiards. They would come to post for or locate employment. They would come to hear news, share rumor or simply speculate on the latest fae issues. They would argue politics, both in the fae and human arenas. A fae could receive and send mail there.

  It was also head quarters for the fae’s head of security, as Burly was not just the pub’s owner, but also head of the security interests as it pertained to the fae.

  The fae observed most of the human laws. But there were certain human laws that did not pertain to the fae, and therefore imperative for quick and quiet enforcement. That job fell to Burly, appointed by the Fae Council.

  He had invited Avery, Gil, Jake and Tasha for an impromptu get together. He even made them diner. After they had eaten their fill, the quartet sat back and waited on their host to inform them for his reasons of bringing them all together.

  “I suppose you have heard about the body that was found in Freedom Park earlier today?” Burly asked in his rough baritone.

  Jake and Tasha nodded. Gil and Avery glanced at each other before Avery answered. “They called us in on the case after it was determined that it was definitely not an animal attack.”

  “What do you mean?” Jake asked.

  “At first, it appeared to be an animal mauling, but upon further investigation, well, it wasn’t.”

  Burly nodded, pursed his lips, intertwined his thick fingers and plopped his callused hands on the tabletop. “That is correct, Jake. Not a mauling.” His gaze caught Avery’s, then Gil’s. “Will you fill these two in on the details please, detectives?”

  “Well, it was gruesome,” Gil made a face.

  “Must have been bad to make you say that,” Jake joked. “You’re not easily disturbed.”

  Avery shook his head, “No, it wasn’t just the body, I mean, it was pretty gross and stuff, but the nature of it was just so,”

  “Brutal,” Gil finished.

  “Yeah. Jake, the body was all torn up, like an animal had mauled it.”

  “But it wasn’t an animal mauling.” Jake confirmed.

  “No sir. The lacerations were too clean, not like claws or teeth. And, well, there were no parts missing.”

  Tasha made a face. “Ew, what does that even mean?”

  “What it means, Peaches, is that if it were an animal attack, there should have been chunks taken out and strewn about, random bite marks, etcetera. Animals tend to be messy, they don’t care about aesthetics. This was way to clean. I mean, the body was all kinds of messed up, but you know what I mean, right?”

  “Uh, I guess,” Tasha made another face.

  “I gotcha,” Jake said. “No foot prints either?”

  “No, and that’s the weird part. There’s no way someone should have been able to make that kind of mess and not trail blood everywhere.”

  “So, if it were an animal, there would be prints,” Jake reasoned. “And whoever did this, observed great care and purpose as to not leave any trail.”

  Avery nodded, his face screwed up in a scowl. “Yeah, and that worries me.”

  “We’re facin a real nut job, here” Gil sat back in the booth, stretching his legs out. “Sorry, did I kick ya Tash?”

  “No, you’re okay.”

  “This could be the beginnings of something real nasty,” Gil continued as he reached both of his hands up to rub his face. It had been a long day and promised to be an even longer night.

  Burly spoke, “The reason I’ve brought you all here is to say that this attack has gotten the attention of the Fae Council, and they would like, Jake, for you to investigate, with the cooperation of the police. The Fae Council is pretty anxious to find something out. They are not exactly happy with the fact that someone is going around imitating an animal, especially with this monster bounty hunter hanging around.”

  “Why would the Fae Council care a
bout an animal mauling?” Tasha asked.

  “Because the only thing big enough that could do the type of damage that was done would be an extremely large wolf, or a bear or a big cat, none of which are indigenous to this area, or not any more anyway.”

  Light dawned in Tasha’s eyes. “So a werewolf or something.”

  Jake nodded. “A werewolf or something.” Tasha looked anxiously at Jake. “Look, it wasn’t a werewolf, so don’t worry,” he said.

  “I understand that. I just find it odd that a bounty hunter shows up the same time as a wanna-be werewolf.”

  “You and me both Tash, you and me both.” Jake ran his thumb along the condensation lines on his glass as he spoke to Avery. “Can you get me in to see the body?”

  “Yes, but not until nine tonight. Dr. Jenkins is on the case right now, and you know how he is about unauthorized people in his morgue. Dawson is there too, and said he wouldn’t be leaving until ten or so, but Jenkins won’t leave until he’s forced to, and his overtime will kick in at nine. You know how the city’s been about overtime.”

  “Always can count on the bureaucrats to do something right,” Jake commented dryly. “Okay, I’ll call Dawson and tell him we’ll get there just before ten. Do you mind if I bring my lovely assistant? I think I’d like for her to observe my unorthodox methods of detecting.”

  Avery gave Tasha a skeptical look before he nodded. “It’s pretty gross, but if you can handle it, then by all means. Just don’t puke, cuz Jenkins will for sure know someone unauthorized has been there.”

  “No puking, got it,” Tasha said over enthusiastically, two thumbs up.

  Gil checked his watch and yawned. “Man, we gotta finish that paper work.”

  “Yeah, okay. Paperwork. Bleh.”

  Chapter 13

  It was raining again. Tasha sat in the passenger side of Jake’s truck, in a windshield wiper induced trance, her mind wandering at will.

  Finally she spoke into the thoughtful silence that had captivated the cab of the pickup. “Jake, do you think I have a wild talent?”

  “You mean why you can see the runes?” Jake hesitated way too long Tasha thought. “Maybe.”

  “But I can read them and Roberts can’t.”

  “Mm, I don’t know,” he said evasively.

  Tasha noticed he was not answering her question on purpose. She decided to leave it alone and asked a different question that was probing at her brain.

  “So, why, exactly, am I coming along for this?”

  “Because, now that you are, aware of certain things, you can be more of a part of my investigations, especially those investigations that I do on the Fae’s behalf. Consider it another aspect of your training, my young padawan.”

  “I’m not exactly crazy about this aspect,” she grumbled a little too harshly. She was irritable. She was tired, and unaccountably sore in her muscles, and had had that strange sensation in her gut again. It had been her constant companion since she had first experienced it. It wasn’t pain exactly, more like she felt like there was something in her that wanted to get out.

  They parked near the back door of the city morgue. The door opened before they had even exited the parked vehicle. They hustled across a few feet of water logged blacktop to the door, a young looking man with Dr. Dawson embroidered on his lab coat was holding it open for them.

  “Rick,” Jake greeted him as he followed Tasha in, shaking the water off of his coat.

  “Jake. Is this our little Natasha, then?” Jake confirmed with a nod before introducing her to the doctor. “This is Rick Dawson. He’s a cousin of Henry’s.”

  “Ah, I was wondering. You resemble him. And no one who knows better calls me Natasha. Tasha, please Dr. Dawson.” She extended her hand and the doctor took it.

  “My pleasure, and please, no need to be so formal. Call me Rick.” He was as blond and blue eyed and as handsome as his relative, Lord Henry Winston the III, the guardian and representative of all the shape shifters in the district as well as a member of the Fae Council. “If you will follow me, I’ll take you to see the victim.”

  Rick led the way through the bland, brick structure, into a room that was filled with all manner of medical equipment, one wall lined with small, square, stainless steal doors. There was a sharp tang of chemicals in the air. He handed a jar that smelled of camphor to Tasha and indicated that she should dab some under her nose. She did so as Rick turned and opened one of the silver doors and pulled out a covered body. He looked over it at Tasha, “You think you can handle this?” At her nod, Rick looked over at Jake for additional confirmation. He also nodded. “Okay then here we go.” Dr. Dawson pulled the sheet back.

  Tasha gave a gasp and looked quickly away. She turned back to the body with extreme caution, taking in shallow gulps of air.

  Though it had been cleaned of blood and debris, the body was still a mess. Long, jagged strips of skin lay away from the body, radiating from the victim’s torso. Gouges were raked across the arms, neck and thighs.

  “The victim has no defensive wounds, so he was taken by surprise and either didn’t have the strength to fight back or was dead before the killer did all of this,” Dr. Dawson motioned with his hand to indicate the torn up state of the body. He rolled the body up onto its side. “We think this was the first, surprise strike.”

  “Three blades all at once?” Jake asked as he gingerly touched three stab wounds, all of equal length and at equally spaced intervals.

  Rick settled the body back so that it was facing upwards again. “That’s not the half of it. The blades went through with enough force to knick a chip off of the underside of the front ribs. Now, when I first examined the body, I could smell leather. At first I dismissed it as being from an article of clothing. But now I’m not so sure.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Well, you have to realize that this is totally speculation on my part,”

  “But?”

  “But follow my reasoning and you may come up with the same hypothesis. The wounds here are, one, made to look like an animal mauling,”

  “And?”

  “And, though this man was cut up, a traditional stab wound is typically in, or, in and up, or, in and down, or, in and twist. This mess here was a result of an in and scoop, like an up and out type of motion, as if the killer were digging.”

  Tasha silently gagged.

  “Okay, so,”

  “Okay, so, the back wounds are a result of a quick, hard thrust, all having to have had an exact spacing and consistent pressure, which would be impossible to achieve one at a time, which mean that they had to be all at the same time with the same strike. I think the weapon is a, well, a glove type of device, with, er, blades coming out of it."

  “So it would resemble a Wolverine kind of thing?” Jake asked incredulously, as he flexed his hand into and out of fists.

  “Well, yeah, and that’s the exact reaction I got from Dr. Jenkins as well,” Dawson groused.

  Jake looked at his fisted hand then over at the body. “That’s incredible,” he suggested.

  “I realize that, but the science is there,” the doctor pointed at the body.

  Jake slowly nodded his head. “Okay, I see that.”

  Tasha huffed. “Oh that’s just fabulous. A Wolverine wanna-be. Bet the police are just crazy about that idea.”

  “You’re not kidding,” Rick agreed.

  Jake looked closely at the body again, before he looked up at Dawson. “Did you get anything else?”

  Dawson shook his head, “No, but you’re much better at tracking than I am. That’s why I agreed when Avery suggested that you would probably want to take a look at him.”

  Tasha looked first at Rick then at Jake. “You mean you’re better at, what, sniffing? I’m not following.”

  Rick smiled at her. “He’s older than I am, so I am relying mostly on his experience. He has, I don’t know, he’s smelled more in his lifetime? Plus there’s his ancestry.”

&n
bsp; Tasha was confused and must have looked it. “Look, Tash, we can sometimes recall certain sights, smells or emotions of what our ancestors experienced,” Jake muttered while he continued examining the corps.

  “My ancestors have lived in the city most of their lives, so we may not have the full scent range that Jake may have, who’s family is from the country.”

  “Ah, okay, I guess.”

  Jake straightened. “Anything missing?”

  Rick shook his head. “No, everything is accounted for. It’s all torn up, but accounted for.”

  “Tasha, look at this. Don’t look at the mess, just concentrate on the form. An animal would be blunter in its attack. For example, see this flap of skin right here? Take a good look at it.”

  Tasha looked at the torn bit of flesh. She concentrated on the area at hand, and, once she got passed the gore and horror of it, she actually did see something. “Yes, yes I see. The laceration is smooth, is that what you mean?”

  Jake nodded. “An animal wouldn’t leave this smooth of a mark. It would be jagged and torn.

  “I see.” Tasha took an uneasy step back, color draining from her face. That odd sensation in her stomach was beginning to rage through her whole body now, causing her to tremor slightly.

  “Okay, you’re done. You can’t do anything more so you can stand back if it’d make you feel better,” Jake said with a sympathetic smile.

  “Thank you kindly.” Tasha gratefully took as many steps away from the carnage as she could without actually fleeing from the room. “Have I mentioned that I’m not crazy about this aspect of my investigative training?”

  “Yeah, you mentioned it,” Jake gave her a wry grin before leaning in over the body again.

  “There’s not much to smell,” Rick commented from behind.

  Jake began reasoning with himself. “If it were an animal attack, you’d smell animal. I can smell people, there’s been a handful of them here on this guy.”

  “I smell a lot of the same people I often smell,” the doctor broke in, “Avery, Gil, that hot little paramedic…” Rick’s words died on his lips as Jake lifted his eyebrows with that, ‘really’ look.

  “No werewolf smell. That is, except for you, Rick.”

  The doctor looked expectantly at Jake. Jake shook his head. “It’s been too long. Any scent I could have picked up that would have belonged exclusively to the killer has been masked by too many others’ scent. I’m sorry."