Mags & Nats 3-Book Box Set Page 14
Kaira stared down as her phone buzzed. I mentally shook myself, refocusing, and then looked over her shoulder as her screen filled with text. It was from a blocked number.
Kaira look down at the message, and then up at me. “It’s Smith.”
CHAPTER 17
Smith’s text said, Mag arrested for Alina Freeman murder definitely guilty.
Kaira exchanged a look with me as she dialed a number.
Yutika’s voice answered on the other end.
“Put Smith on,” Kaira told her.
“The guy’s an UnAllied,” Smith said without preamble. “The dickhead was bragging about the murder. He was pissed Freeman was ‘getting involved in Mag business.’ Direct quote.”
“Got it,” Kaira said, her face twisted in disgust. “Thanks for checking on that.”
“I’m texting you a picture of Bobby Axelrod so you’ll know who you’re looking for,” Smith said. “Need anything else?”
“No, get some sleep. We’ll be home in a couple of hours.”
The call ended just as I pulled into the motel’s parking lot. We both stared at the picture on Kaira’s cell phone. It was of a slightly overweight, balding man with light blue eyes and a patchy beard.
Kaira put her phone back in her pocket. My eyes were drawn to her as her appearance started to morph. She became shorter and her skin darkened. Her beautiful features became bland and common. Her club outfit was replaced with a police uniform.
No matter how many times I saw her work, it never got old. There was something inherently beautiful in her magic that reminded me of a gifted painter or composer.
I looked down at myself and realized my appearance was altered, too. Except where Kaira looked unassuming, I was imposing. Muscles bulged from my arms, visible even through the cop uniform. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that I had a thick beard, which made me look the part of a cop who got answers.
“Let’s do this,” I said, deepening my voice and getting into character.
It wasn’t hard to act the part of a guy who was pissed off and looking for answers.
We got out of the car and headed straight to Room 211. The curtains were drawn, but I could see a light on inside. I banged on the door.
“Mr. Axelrod, Boston Police,” I called in an authoritative voice.
The curtain pulled back enough for me to see a more haggard, terrified version of the picture Smith had sent us.
“You’re not in trouble,” Kaira called. “We just want to talk to you.”
“Why’s there a Nat with you?” the querulous voice called from the other side of the door.
“Natural and Magic police are collaborating on this one,” I said. “Open up, Mr. Axelrod.”
I put my hand on my hip where my gun would be holstered if I had one. It was a threatening pose, but I wasn’t feeling especially patient.
The door cracked open. I barged in before the guy changed his mind.
“You—you have no right,” Axelrod stuttered.
“We have every right,” I said in a bored tone. “Are you familiar with Section 228 of the Alliance’s Report of Laws?”
I remembered the precise law that applied to this situation from my second-year law class, even though I was pretty sure Bobby Axelrod wouldn’t have known the difference if I’d made something up.
“I—”
“It gives the police,” I pointed to myself and Kaira, “the right to investigate crimes against and relating to any person within the city limits. Now, what can you tell us about Graysen Galder being framed for Penelope Heppurn’s murder?”
It would have been impossible to miss the flash of recognition—and fear—that crossed Axelrod’s face.
“I don’t know anything about that murder,” Axelrod said, his voice taking on a whiny quality.
“Bobby, please,” Kaira said, her voice as soothing as mine was demanding. “It’s late, and I’m sure you’d like to get some rest. Please just tell us who framed Graysen Galder and why, and we’ll get out of your hair.”
The man’s hands were shaking. “I don’t know anything about the murder.”
“That’s not what Nancy told us,” I said.
Bobby’s eyes narrowed and his shaking hands curled into fists. “What do you know about my wife? Have you arrested her? She doesn’t know anything—”
I ground my teeth. This guy was all over the place. It would be a miracle if we could get him to say anything coherent.
“Start talking,” I commanded.
“I can’t.” Bobby sank down on one of the beds and covered his face with his hands. “I was going to come forward about everything, but they found out and threatened Nancy.” His voice became a whisper. “They’ll kill her.”
“Who will kill Nancy?” I pressed, my heart hammering.
“We can’t protect your wife if we don’t know who we’re protecting her from,” Kaira added.
“There’s nothing the police can do,” Axelrod snapped. “This is above your pay grade.”
Kaira and I exchanged a look.
“Let’s start with something simple,” Kaira said. “Who do you work for, really?”
“And she’s not talking about the Alliance job you quit six months ago,” I added. “She’s asking about the job that got you a $500,000 raise.”
Axelrod’s face paled further. A muscle had started to twitch below his left eye, and perspiration was gathering on his bald spot.
“I—I didn’t—”
“We don’t care that you have the money,” I said. “We just want to know where it came from and what it has to do with Penelope Heppurn’s murder.”
Bobby’s gaze moved between us like he was an animal caught in a trap.
“We can get Nancy into protective custody,” Kaira said. “There are Mags in the department who will give her a new identity, money, and transportation to Canada. It’s very safe there, and whoever is after you will never find her.”
That got his attention.
“You’ll do that? If I cooperate?”
“Just tell us what we need to know, and we’ll make sure whatever you’re involved with doesn’t touch Nancy,” I said.
Bobby licked his lips. I sensed the man’s resolve crumbling.
“Penelope’s murder,” I pushed. “You knew it was going to happen beforehand. How did you know?”
“God forgive me,” Axelrod whispered. “I overheard their conversation when they decided Penelope would be the first murder, and that Graysen Galder would be the one who was framed. I don’t think they meant for me to hear, but the lab shares a wall with one of the conference rooms. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. It just kind of…happened.”
I clenched my fists by my sides, forcing myself not to betray any emotion.
Let the guy talk himself out, I told myself.
“They came over after the meeting, and I think they could just tell I had heard more than I was supposed to. They said that since I already knew everything, they needed my help with something else. They told me to make a potion that was basically like a strong rat poison.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. The guy was sweating so much dark patches had appeared on his shirt.
“They used my potion to kill the guy they’d hired at the same time as me. Jonas Meddlesworth.” He pressed a chubby palm to his forehead. “I think they framed Graysen Galder for that murder, too.”
I didn’t look at Kaira, because I knew I’d see her fury if I did, and then I’d lose my own remaining shreds of self-composure.
Bobby’s eyes started to water.
“I swear, I was gonna come forward and tell the cops everything. But then they threatened Nancy, and I figured the only way to keep her safe was if I disappeared, and—”
Bobby lunged for me.
I was expecting a punch to the face, but instead, he grabbed at my belt.
Not my belt, I realized as Bobby staggered back. He’d been reaching for the illusion of my gun.
“Who are you people?” he deman
ded.
“Call us interested parties,” I deadpanned, trying not to let it show that I’d begun to panic.
“You lying bastards!”
Bobby bolted for the door. I went after him.
The struggle was brief. I was bigger, fitter, and more determined. In seconds, Bobby was back in the center of the room, looking more disheveled and dejected.
With no more point in keeping up our illusions, Kaira let them slip away. Bobby’s face didn’t register anything when he looked at Kaira, but as soon as he turned to me, the man’s already-pale face went white as a sheet.
I folded my arms and leaned back against the wall.
“I’m sorry,” Bobby whispered.
“I don’t want an apology,” I said. “I want answers.”
Bobby shook his head.
“Enough of this,” Kaira said, pulling out her cell. She tapped a few keys and then put the call on speaker.
“What’s up?” Michael’s deep voice asked after the second ring.
“Gray and I are at the Watertown Motel with Bobby Axelrod. He knows who set Gray up, but he isn’t talking.”
“I can be there in twenty. Want me to bring Bri?”
“Leave her with Nancy,” Kaira said, pausing to give Bobby a meaningful look. “Just in case Bobby here needs a little extra motivation.”
The call ended.
“Michael’s a Level 10 Whisper,” Kaira told a speechless Bobby. “Everyone talks to him. You can try to resist all you want. I think the longest it’s ever taken Michael to get information out of someone was half a second.” She smirked at him.
“I can’t. They’ll kill Nancy. You don’t understand.”
“Then help us understand,” I ground out.
“We’ll do what we can to protect you and your wife,” Kaira said. “I wasn’t lying about having the resources to make you both disappear. As soon as you’ve told us everything you know, you and Nancy will be on a plane to Canada with new files and everything you need to start a new life.”
“My bosses. They’ll find us. They’ll—”
Bobby doubled over, clutching his stomach. He started toward the bathroom.
I followed him, unwilling to trust the guy for even a second. I’d seen enough movies to know better than to leave a key witness alone, where he might slip out of a window or climb out through an air vent or something. I doubted the guy was resourceful or skinny enough for the latter, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
“I have a bad stomach,” Bobby said, still holding his midsection. “Just give me a few minutes, I beg you.”
I flipped on the bathroom light and looked around for any weapons or a way of sneaking out.
My search revealed only some toiletries scattered around and a tiny window that was too high and too small to be of any use for an escape. I grabbed the disposable razor on the sink—just in case the man was stupid enough to come after us with it. Convinced Axelrod wasn’t going anywhere, I stepped aside. Axelrod scurried into the bathroom and shut the door. I heard the lock turn.
I paced back and forth outside the bathroom, carving a path of impatience in the stained carpet.
“He knows who’s behind this,” Kaira told me. “And in about ten minutes when Michael gets here, we’ll know everything he knows. Just be patient.”
I gave her a short nod before going back to pacing. Learning the truth behind Penelope’s murder was only the first step in this nightmarish uphill battle I was fighting. The next step would be convincing this squirrely witness to go to the Alliance authorities and repeat his story. We would need evidence, enough to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that someone else was responsible for Penelope’s murder. Even then, I would still be on the hook for breaking out of prison, evading the authorities, and a half dozen other crimes. And I’d have to craft my defense without revealing who had helped me.
Even if I could prove my innocence and convince a judge to let me off with some community service, my reputation would be forever tarnished. My father’s reputation was still suffering from the comparatively minor infraction of losing a Testing file. I would never get out from under the mud my name had been dragged through, even if I was somehow miraculously exonerated from the crime I’d been accused of.
Maybe Yutika could create a new identity and Kaira could illusion me to look like someone else. Although I’d need to stay within a mile of Kaira for the illusion to hold. A plastic surgeon who could permanently alter my appearance would be more practical….
An awful gurgling, choking sound came from inside the bathroom.
“Bobby?” Kaira called.
No answer.
“Axelrod.” I rapped on the door. “Are you alright?”
Silence.
“Gray.”
Kaira pointed at the wisps of blue smoke curling under the door.
I knocked again. When no answer came, I motioned for Kaira to get out of the way.
“Fair warning, I’m kicking in the door,” I called.
For the first time in living memory, I silently thanked Coach for all the quad presses and squats he’d made me do since joining the crew team. My third kick broke the door’s hinges, and the fourth sent the door slamming into the bathroom.
Blue smoke poured out of the open doorway. I saw the faint outline of Bobby Axelrod. He was lying on the floor.
CHAPTER 18
Iimmediately began choking on the foul-smelling smoke. It billowed out of the small bathroom, blanketing the rest of the room in a bluish fog that burned my throat and made my eyes water.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Kaira pulled the collar of her shirt over her nose and ran into the bathroom.
“Kaira,” I began, but I swallowed a mouthful of smoke and was overtaken by a fit of coughing.
We had to get out of here.
Whatever we were breathing, it couldn’t be good.
Axelrod was conscious…barely. His face was coated with perspiration, and his pupils were so dilated there were barely any whites left. I covered my mouth and nose with my shirt, which helped a little.
“Get out of here,” I ordered Kaira, my words coming out muffled from beneath my collar.
I bent down, grabbed Axelrod underneath his armpits, and started to drag him out of the bathroom. He was awake, but limp, and his dead weight fought against me.
Once we were out of the small bathroom, Kaira grabbed his feet. Together, we half-carried, half-dragged, him to the door.
I yanked it open, gulping in the fresh night air as I pulled Axelrod outside.
“Are you okay?” I asked Kaira.
She was bent over the railing and taking great, heaving breaths of clean air.
“Fine,” she managed.
I waited another few beats to make sure she was alright before I turned my attention on Axelrod.
“What did you do?” I demanded, my voice full of a desperation I didn’t recognize.
“Sorry,” he gasped. Bloody spittle flew out of his mouth and speckled his white, sweat-soaked shirt. “Would have killed Nancy. Had to.”
This couldn’t be happening. I wouldn’t let it.
Fury like I’d never felt before lashed through me. “You don’t get to do this. Do you hear me? I need answers! You have to—”
Axelrod was making a horrible choking noise that cut me off mid-rant. Foam, flecked with blood, spilled out of his mouth and down his chin.
That sense of helplessness I was becoming all-too familiar with gripped me in a vise. This man was dying. And if we lost him, I lost my chance of finding out the truth.
I gripped his chin in my hand, forcing his bloodshot eyes to focus on me.
“Tell me how to undo this,” I commanded.
I was so goddamned sick of having no control, of being prey to the whims of others.
I yanked the man onto his side. I’d spent enough nights after parties with my crewmates to know when a person was in danger of choking on his own vomit.
It didn’t help.
Come on, you bast
ard!
“W-won’t w-work,” he managed as his body began to twitch and convulse.
“Axelrod, please,” I begged.
Please give me something…anything….
I heard the defeat in my own voice.
Kaira, who was kneeling on Axelrod’s other side, looked at me. Her eyes were wide with fear and the same helplessness I felt.
“Please,” I said again, my voice barely audible over Axelrod’s choking.
“V—V—”
I couldn’t tell whether he was trying to say something, or if the sound was just some effect of whatever was happening to his body.
“Vvvv—”
Axelrod’s whole body jerked and then went still. The foam bubbling out of his mouth slowed to a trickle.
“No.” I shook Axelrod.
“Gray—”
“No!”
I refused to look at Kaira or to hear the apology in her voice.
“What’s going on out here?” a woman in a fuzzy purple bathrobe and matching slippers demanded. She was standing in the doorway of the neighboring motel room.
“Police business, ma’am,” Kaira said. “We’re going to need you to go back inside.” Her voice was authoritative, but her hands were shaking.
Footsteps pounded the metal stairs that led up to the walkway. We couldn’t stay here, and yet, I couldn’t summon the strength to move.
“Kaira? Graysen?” a deep, male voice asked. “What happened?”
I knew it was Michael, but I didn’t look up from the man whose body was stiffening and cooling on the cement.
“He’s dead, Gray,” Kaira said, tugging on my arm.
I was shaking my head. This man had all the answers. He was my salvation.
I couldn’t accept that he was gone.
I forced myself to look at Axelrod’s face. Blood was still leaking from his mouth, but his eyes were open and glassy. His skin was gray.
“We need to get his body back in the motel room and wipe it down,” Michael said, his voice grim as he bent to pick up Axelrod’s lifeless body.
“…careful,” Kaira was telling Michael. “…some kind of poison.”
I could barely make sense of anything that was happening around me. The man’s gruesome death played in my head on repeat. It was only the thought of Kaira back in that poison-filled room that got my legs moving.