Arrest, Search and Séance : Book 1 of the Fringe Society, R.D. Hunter [good english books to read txt] 📗

“Anytime. That’s two rounds you owe me now, and I intend to collect.” We made tentative plans for three nights from now and hung up.

Lacey was a good person despite, ya know, not being human. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t ask to be born the way she was. As far as I knew, she only fed in short, little doses, which might leave someone feeling a little tired, but did no permanent harm. Other times, we went out to a baseball game or night club, where the excitement in the air was so palpable even I felt like I could drink it in.

Thanks to her, I had at least a little better idea of who Darren Hawkins was. I’d known he was a lowlife, scumbag who offered semi-professional snoop jobs at a cutthroat rate, but I had underestimated the lengths he would go to on a case. It takes a real sleazo to use kids for your own, personal gain. Maybe I’d have a chance to tell him so when I interviewed him.

Bill and I entered the cramped interview room and closed the door behind us. Hawkins was looking a little worse for the wear. His greasy hair was disheveled and sticking out at odd angles. There was a large, angry looking bump on his forehead and a severe streak of road rash graced the side of his face, courtesy of his unexpected trip across the concrete. But his eyes were clear as he looked at both of us and his hands didn’t shake. Apparently, he had something in the way of a spine under that cheap, polyester jacket.

“Why’d you run?” I asked without preamble.

“Why’d you chase me?”

“Because you ran. We just wanted to have a nice, civil conversation with you. Right, Detective Perkins?” My partner nodded, never taking his eyes off Hawkins. “So, tell me, why would you get so spooked when you see two people waiting outside your door? I mean, you’re a private investigator, right? We could have been clients.” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Look, the truth is I owe some people money and I thought you were there to collect. I’m a little short right now so I ran to buy some time until I could pay them off.” His eyes flicked left and then right as he spoke. I leaned across the table, invading his personal space and commanding his attention.

“Do I really look like the type of muscle a loan shark would send to collect a debt from a military vet?” I asked slowly. “Think carefully on this one. Your answer will show how stupid you are.”

No answer. He knew it was B.S., and, more importantly, he knew I knew it was B.S. I leaned back and sat down across from him. Bill remained in the corner, never breaking eye contact with Hawkins.

“Ok. Fine. Let’s talk about why you’ve been cruising around Nichole Barret’s neighborhood lately.” There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes at the name, then it was gone.

“Who?” he said unconvincingly. “I don’t know any Nichole Barret.”

“Then why were you in her neighborhood?” He shrugged.

“I got a girl that lives out that way.”

“Really? That’s funny. I never told you where she lived. How could you know she lives close to ‘your girl?’” Check and mate.

I watched with hidden pleasure as he realized he’d just given himself a way. This was the crucible. He’d either give everything up in a last-ditch effort for leniency, or he’d square his shoulders, bite his tongue and declare the interview over. After a tense moment, his head bowed almost to the table. Got him!

“I was hired to watch her,” he said miserably. I glanced over at Bill who was fighting back a victorious grin.

“Nichole Barret?” I clarified. Hawkins nodded. “Why?”

“You wouldn’t believe me. Hell, I hardly believed it myself. Thought it was a joke, but the money was good so I took the case.”

“Why?” I repeated, more forcefully. He sighed and I could tell he was casting about for another lie to tell. Finally, though, he settled on the truth…and it turned my blood to ice.

“Because I was hired to find someone who could do magic.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

“Real magic,” Hawkins stressed. “Not the fake stuff.” I glanced over at Bill who rolled his eyes.

“What do you…what do you mean ‘real’ magic?” I asked.

“You know.” He wiggled his fingers mystically. “Real magic. Spells, and hoodoo and whatnot. Paid a pretty penny for it too.” My mouth was dry as sand and I didn’t trust myself to speak for a few moments. Sensing my hesitation, Bill spoke up.

“So how did this lead you to Nichole Barret?” he asked.

“Common sense mostly. I figured if anyone in this burg could actually do magic, they’d want to keep it a secret. Probably kept to themselves. So, I did a search for everyone who worked from home inside the city limits. That only got me about fifty thousand hits. So, I narrowed it down by looking for folks who kept to themselves, didn’t get out much, that kind of thing. Then I staked out a couple of the local herb shops, apothecaries and naturalist stores. After a week, I had a little over a dozen promising leads.”

“And Nichole Barret was one of them,” I said hoarsely. Hawkins nodded.

“Yeah. I tailed a few of the other ones first. They were dead ends. Mostly wannabe goths who watched too many movies. But then I saw your gal, Nichole, and knew she was the real deal.”

“Bullshit,” I all but spat. “You watched her. You invaded her privacy and didn’t give a damn about what it did to her.” Hawkins recoiled slightly and his eyes grew wide. Bill shifted uncomfortably where he stood.

“Yeah, okay, so I watched her. That’s my job. I watch