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

“I guess,” he said. “You want me to call in Charley and his team to go over the place?” I shook my head quickly.

“No need. They should be about done packing up. Let’s just look around on our own. If we see any sign the killer was in here, we’ll haul their butts in and you can chew them out for not noticing this room to begin with.”

“Fair enough.”

The air around me fairly hummed with latent magical energy, probably from years of spell casting and ritual magic. The last thing I wanted was a team of forensic specialists in here poking around, dusting for prints and generally prying into every nook and cranny. That would be beyond disrespectful.

While I had a special dispensation to be in here, (as did Bill, to a lesser extent) I could still feel the echoes of Nichole’s awareness at the back of my senses. She hadn’t left. And with this much latent energy to draw from, who knows what she’d do if she felt insulted in some way.

Bill and I began searching the room. As was our custom, he started at the far end of the room, closest to the altar, and began working his way around. I went to the other end and worked my way towards him.

Nichole had a wide array of witchcraft paraphernalia. A large selection of oils, herbs and spices were arranged neatly on several of the shelves. The others contained books and tomes, some so old that they had to have been first printings and worth a small fortune.

I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. A signed confession from the killer would have been nice, but I didn’t think that was in the card. I’d learned to trust my inner voice a long time ago, and right now it was screaming at me that I was missing something…something important. I stopped at the simple, ornate altar and studied it for several moments.

This was where most of the magic had happened. This is where she made offerings, burned incense and channeled the energies of creation to affect the world around her. So why did it look wrong?

It took me a few seconds to realize exactly what was missing. When it hit me, I felt my stomach do a little flip and a cold shiver of stark fear laced its way up my spine. Her Book of Shadows was missing.

Each witch kept a journal. Some called it a grimoire. Others called it a Book of Ways. Whatever the name, it was a personalized book filled with the witch’s spells, rituals, incantations and results. It also contained ingredients for potions, friendly spirits to call on and many or all of her magical secrets. Its usual place was in the middle of the altar, or close thereabouts. But there was nothing here. Only an empty, yawning spot where it should have been met my gaze.

This was bad, but it wasn’t what caused my breathing to pick up and my heart to start hammering. After all, most people could follow the instructions in a Book of Shadows to the letter and wouldn’t conjure enough magic to do a card trick. That’s because they haven’t spent years honing the connection between the spiritual and the physical. They just didn’t have the juice.

What bothered me, though, was that out of all the items I’d seen in Nichole Barret’s sacred room, I hadn’t found a single crystal. Crystals were like magical batteries. They could be charged a number of different ways to hold and store energy for later use in spells. But, if it had been another practitioner that killed Nichole Barret, they wouldn’t have bothered with the decapitation, salt and fire. They would have known that dead is dead, even for a witch. And a lay-man would have had no use for the crystals. They could have been positively humming with power, but without the training, there was no way for them to access it. So why take them?

“Find anything?” Bill’s voice broke through my reverie, causing me to jump a little.

“Nope,” I said a little too quickly. “Nothing here. Might as well lock up and go.” It was true enough, but it still tasted false on my tongue.

Bill looked at me for several uncomfortable moments. I could almost see the wheels in his head turning, although my second sight spell had already expired. He was no idiot. He knew something was up. But he also trusted me enough to let it go if I didn’t feel it worth mentioning.

“Ok. Coroner’s waiting outside. Let’s pack it in and head back to HQ.”

I nodded and followed him out, pausing just long enough to whisper under my breath,

“Peace be unto you, Sister,

Until our spirits meet once more

Where the shadows hold no sway.”

It was a simple prayer, more an act of politeness than anything else. But behind me, I felt a flush of satisfaction and knew Nichole had been listening. It didn’t make leaving her any easier.

Now, I was no rookie, having been with the Atlanta P.D. for five years before my promotion to detective and subsequent transfer. But I was the new girl here, which meant I could expect the shit cases with the crazy witnesses or the dirty locations, and to be stuck with the bar tab whenever we went out for drinks. I knew that. I was prepared for it. Hell, I even welcomed it, because it would deepen the sense of camaraderie between us when I was finally accepted.

But the things I’d endured since coming here had gone beyond simple practical jokes. In the past six months, all the tires on my duty car and my personal little Honda Civic had been let out…four times. I’d also had my locker stuffed with pornographic magazines and my computer screen wrapped up