A dead woman sprawled across the pavement, discarded right along with the rest of the trash.
9
I tiptoed forward and crouched down beside the woman.
Her blond hair was strewn all over her face, obscuring her features, but she seemed young and pretty, in her early twenties, just like Elissa. She was also wearing a red dress, just like Elissa had been last night.
The color perfectly matched the blood on her face.
Even through the strands of her hair, I could tell that someone had beaten the young woman to a pulp. Her face was a swollen, bloody mess, with a broken nose, two blackened eyes, and more cuts and bruises than I could count.
And those weren’t her only injuries.
Deep, ugly bruises circled her wrists, and matching ones marred her ankles, as though she’d been tied down to a chair. Still more bruises ringed her throat, each one a dark purple against her pale skin, almost looking like an expensive amethyst necklace instead of marks of death. I recognized the brutal pattern. As if beating her hadn’t been enough, someone had wrapped his hands around the young woman’s neck and squeezed, squeezed, squeezed.
Oddly enough, her hands were lying flat on the pavement, her fingers spread wide, as though she were trying to push herself away from her attacker.
I glanced around, but the surrounding pavement was empty. No purse, no phone, no coat, no sign of any personal possessions anywhere around her. She looked like a doll that a child had broken in a fit of rage and then tossed aside because it wasn’t fun to play with anymore.
Even though I didn’t want to, I forced myself to lean in even closer and study the woman’s face. I still couldn’t positively identify her, given the brutal beating, but the longer I stared at her, the more my heart sank. Blond hair, right age, red dress, last place she’d been seen. There was no denying those facts—and what they meant.
I’d wanted to find Elissa Daniels, but not like this. I might have assumed the absolute worst, the way I always did, but I’d still been hoping deep down inside that I was wrong and that things would turn out okay.
But Elissa was dead, and there was only one thing that I could do for her—and her sister—now.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and hit a number in the speed dial.
She answered on the second ring. “Detective Bria Coolidge.”
“It’s Gin.”
“What’s wrong?” Bria’s voice sharpened, picking up on my sad tone. “Have you found Elissa?”
“Yeah. You and Xavier need to come over to Northern Aggression as soon as you can.” I sighed, more sadness creeping into my voice. “And bring the coroner with you.”
• • •
I hung up with Bria, stepped inside the club, found Roslyn, and told her what was going on. Then I grabbed Finn and Owen, and we all went back outside to wait for Bria, Xavier, and the rest of the police to arrive.
The four of us stared down at the body, careful not to touch her or disturb any evidence. Still not touching anything, we also searched the area around the three Dumpsters, looking for her purse, phone, or anything else that she—or her killer—might have left behind, but the only things we found were crumpled fast-food bags, smushed cigarettes, and broken beer bottles.
I also reached out with my magic again, hoping that the stones might give me some clue to who had done this, but the cracked sections of pavement only muttered about the blood, violence, and death that they had witnessed. Nothing more, nothing less.
I also pointed out the busted security camera to Roslyn. It had been broken for more than two weeks, although she didn’t know by whom. She’d been trying to get the repair company to come fix it, but they’d been backed up with other jobs. Another dead end.
Thirty minutes later, a woman walked out of the back door of Northern Aggression. Given the cold, a toboggan covered most of her shaggy blond hair, although the dark blue fabric brought out the matching color of her eyes. Her cheeks were already pleasantly pink from the chill, and a silverstone primrose rune glinted against her dark blue jacket.
A few seconds later, the door opened again, revealing a giant who was around seven feet tall, with a strong, muscled body. Despite the frosty air, his shaved head was bare, and his ebony skin and dark eyes gleamed under the lights on the back of the building.
Detective Bria Coolidge, my baby sister, and Xavier, her partner on the force and Roslyn’s significant other.
“What do you have?” Bria called out.
“Nothing good,” I replied.
Finn, Owen, Roslyn, and I all stepped back out of the way so that Bria and Xavier could do their thing. The two cops crouched down and moved all around the body, studying the woman, their faces flat and expressionless. As cops, Bria and Xavier had seen a lot of bodies in their time, but you never quite got used to it, especially something like this, where a young woman had been so viciously assaulted.
Finally, after making pages of notes and taking tons of photos, Bria and Xavier straightened back up. Xavier went over to talk to Roslyn, Finn, and Owen, while Bria pulled me aside.
Bria’s mouth tightened into a grim slash. “You think this is Elissa Daniels?”
“Unfortunately. She fits Elissa’s description, right down to the dress and heels, and this was the last place she was seen.”
I told her about the security footage that showed Elissa heading in this direction. “You can watch it for yourself. I emailed it to you earlier.”
“I’ll do that. The coroner’s assistants are on their way. I’ve already got some men inside, talking to the bartender and other workers, but . . .” Bria shrugged. She didn’t have to tell me how unlikely it was that someone had seen or heard anything.
“Xavier and I will stay with the body.” She hesitated. “After we wrap up here, do you want to call Jade and ask her to meet us at the coroner’s office?”
My heart squeezed with dread. “Yeah. I can do that. Just tell me when you’re ready.”
Bria gave me a sympathetic look and laid her hand on my shoulder. Then she shifted into full-fledged detective mode, examining the body again, along with the surrounding area, and taking more pictures. At her request, Roslyn brought out several large trash bags, and Bria and Xavier pulled on black crime-scene gloves and started collecting the garbage closest to the empty Dumpsters, hoping that it might hold some clue.
Fifteen minutes later, the patrol cops had roped off the area with yellow crime-scene tape and had rigged up portable lights all around the three Dumpsters. Blue lights flashed on the police cars in the parking lots and on all the surrounding side streets, but the sight of the po-po didn’t stop people from entering the club. Instead, most folks simply ignored their presence. A dead body, even one that had been violently murdered, wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in Ashland, not even in this part of Northtown. It certainly wasn’t going to stop people from partying.
There was nothing else my friends could do, so Owen agreed to take Finn back to his car at my house, then check in with Eva, to see if his sister or Violet had learned anything about Elissa, her friends, or who might have done this to her. Finn said that he would coordinate with Silvio and start reviewing the nightclub’s security footage again. Roslyn went back into the club to tell her staff what was going on and question them again herself, on the off chance that someone had seen something after all. They were more likely to talk to their boss in confidence than to the cops.
Me? I stayed until the bitter, bitter end, watching Bria and Xavier slowly, methodically bag up trash and search the area yet again.
Finally, a large black van arrived, pulling as close to the back of the club as possible, given all the potholes, and a couple of guys wearing dark coveralls got out of the vehicle, pushing a stretcher along in front of them. The cops were finished with the scene, and now Elissa would be taken to the coroner’s office for an autopsy.
Bria pulled off her gloves and nodded at me, finally ready for me to make the call I’d been dreading ever since I found the body.
With a heavy heart, I pulled out my phone and dialed Sophia.
“News?” she rasped.
“Yeah. Let me talk to Jade, please.”
A second later, Jade’s voice flooded the line. “What’s going on, Gin? Have you found Elissa? Please, please tell me that you’ve found her.”
The raw, naked desperation in her voice made my stomach drop like a lead weight. It took me several seconds to force out the very last words that she wanted to hear. “I need you to meet me downtown at the police station.” I paused. “At the coroner’s office.”
Jade sucked in a breath. “What—why—”
Now she was the one who couldn’t speak, but I made myself keep talking.
“I tracked Elissa to Northern Aggression. A little while ago, I found a body in the parking lot behind the club,” I said, my own voice rough with regret. “It’s a young blond woman. Bria wants you to come down to the coroner’s office. Please.”
“No! No! It can’t be her! It can’t be her—” Jade’s voice went from a wail to a sob in a heartbeat.
I didn’t say anything else. Nothing I could say would change the cold, cruel facts or make this any better.
A loud clatter sounded, as though Jade had dropped the phone, although I could hear her still sobbing no-no-no in the background. Each one of her cries shattered another piece of my heart. The better part of a minute passed before someone picked up the phone again.
“Don’t worry,” Sophia rasped. “I’ll drive her.”
“Thanks. I’ll meet you there.”
We hung up, and I looked over at the crime scene. The workers from the coroner’s office had loaded Elissa onto the stretcher, and I watched while they slowly zipped the black body bag over her, hiding her bruised, bloody, battered face.
Out of sight but not out of mind.
Never, ever that.
And a hard, inescapable truth punched me in the gut, the way it always did whenever something like this happened.
This might be the end of Elissa Daniels, but it was just the beginning of her sister’s pain.
10
I left Northern Aggression, drove through the downtown loop, and fell into the flow of traffic a few blocks away from the main police station. It was after ten o’clock now, and the mean streets of Southtown were open for business.
Hookers wearing as little as they could without freezing to death ambled up and down the sidewalks, stamping their feet and trying to stay warm between customers, while cars slowly cruised by, the drivers debating who they wanted to take for a spin. Pimps bundled up in puffy parkas lurked in the dark alleys beyond, ready to make their presence known if someone tried to leave without paying for services rendered. Still more folks gathered at the street corners under the flickering lights, buying and selling everything from pills to pot to bags of fresh blood for the vampires. At least, that’s what the dealers claimed it was. I had my doubts, though, especially since it looked more like colored corn syrup than actual O-negative.
I pulled into the first empty parking space on the street that I saw, got out of my car, and locked it. I hadn’t taken three steps down the sidewalk before a couple of guys sporting flashy gold chains over neon-green jackets broke away from their posse of friends at the corner and stopped in front of me. The guys looked to be in their early twenties, and they both grinned like fools as they cracked their knuckles and gave me a leering once-over.
“Hey there, honey,” one of them crooned in a high, twangy voice. “What’s a sweet little thing like you doing out on the dark, dangerous streets tonight?”
I rolled my eyes. Sweet little thing? Please. I’d already been killing people when these idiots were still in middle school.
I could have done the whole song and dance about how they needed to move out of my way, how they didn’t know who they were messing with, and how they would deeply, painfully, and permanently regret hassling me. They would be stupid enough to attack me, and I would kick their asses into next week, just like I’d done with the giants at the country club earlier today. The same scenario had played out dozens of times over the past year.
Part of me wanted all of that to happen just so I could beat somebody down. Just so I could let out some of my simmering anger and frustration that I hadn’t been able to find and save Elissa. But this wasn’t about what I wanted, not anymore. It was about helping Jade as best I could. I needed to get to the coroner’s office before she did, and I just didn’t have time to deal with these fools. So I reached underneath my jacket, pulled out my spider rune pendant, and held it out where the two goons could see it.
“Any more questions?” I snarled.
Their eyes bulged, and their mouths opened and closed and opened and closed again, but no sounds came out. They knew exactly who this rune belonged to and just how dead I could make them.
“I didn’t think so.”
I strode forward, and the two guys practically tripped over each other to get out of my way. And not just them. Everyone on the block had seen our confrontation. All conversation abruptly cut off, and everyone on the sidewalk stopped what they were doing and stared at me. No one else blocked my path, and I got the distinct impression that several people were holding their breath. Of course, I knew that they would all start talking about me the second I turned the corner, wondering what I was doing here tonight, but I didn’t care. Let them gossip all they wanted.
It didn’t much matter when a girl was dead.
A few minutes later, I reached the police station, which was located in a prewar building made of dark gray granite that took up its own block. Despite the late hour, light spilled out of every window, highlighting the columns, crenellations, and curlicued carvings of vines and leaves that covered much of the stone. I’d always thought it highly ironic that the station was housed in such a beautiful building when so much ugliness passed through its doors on a daily basis.
A bored-looking cop was working a metal detector that had been installed just inside the main entrance. The machine beep-beep-beeped out a sharp, high-pitched warning when I went through, but I didn’t want to deal with the cop any more than I had wanted to deal with the thugs outside, so I tap-tap-tapped my fingernail against my spider rune, making it ring like a bell. The cop knew what the symbol meant just like the thugs had, and he swallowed and waved me through.
Sometimes being feared was quite helpful.
Fifty feet later, the corridor opened up into the main part of the station, an enormous room of lovely gray marble with silver flecks running through it. Crystal and brass chandeliers dropped down from the ceiling, highlighting the people below. Uniformed cops carrying paperwork from one side of the room to the other, suited detectives gossiping around a water cooler, criminals slouching on wooden benches along the walls waiting to be processed and taken to their cells for the night. The murmur of a dozen conversations echoed through the room, punctuated by the constant jingle-jangle of one phone after another, and the air reeked of black coffee, burned popcorn, and sour sweat.
I skirted around the uniformed cops, ignored the detectives, walked by the criminals, and headed toward the back of the room, where several desks were clustered. Xavier was already here, sitting at his desk and scribbling on a notepad, a phone wedged in the crook of his neck. He spotted me and waved me over.
“Yeah . . . yeah,” Xavier said. “Gin just walked in the door. I’ll send her down to you.”
He hung up, then threw down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and ran his fingers over his shaved head in a sharp, scrubbing motion, as if he were trying to wipe something particularly horrible out of his mind. Curious. Xavier was rock-solid, one of the strongest, toughest, most dependable guys I knew. I wondered what had upset him so much.
Xavier dropped his hands,
leaned forward in his chair, and looked at me.
“Rough night?” I asked.
He gave me a faint smile, but his gaze remained dark and troubled. “Aren’t they all?”
Couldn’t argue with that.
He gestured at his phone. “That was Bria. She’s downstairs with Ryan. He’s just finished his preliminary examination.”
I nodded. Dr. Ryan Colson was the head coroner and a friend to both Bria and Xavier.
Xavier’s mouth twisted, and he stared at me like he wanted to tell me something. After a second, he shook his head, as if banishing the thought. “Ryan will clean up her face as best he can so that Jade can officially identify her. Try to make her look a little less . . .”
“Beaten, strangled, and dead?”
He winced. “Yeah. But there’s no softening a blow like that, is there?”
“Not in my experience.”
Once again, he gave me a strange, almost pitying look. I wondered what he knew about Elissa Daniels’s murder that I didn’t.
“Did you guys find anything at the scene?” I asked. “Anything in the trash you collected? Any clue to who might have done this?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Nothing obvious. Just a bunch of soggy cardboard boxes, empty bottles, and broken glass, which isn’t unusual, given the location. Bria and I will go through all the trash again later, but I’m not holding out much hope of finding anything useful.”
I nodded. “Thanks for trying, though.”
Xavier shrugged his massive shoulders. “Just doing my job.” His gaze flicked over to the detectives, who were still standing around the water cooler, watching a video on one of their phones. “Someone around here has to, right?”
“Right.”
Xavier jerked his thumb over toward the elevators. “You go on down to the coroner’s office. I’ll stay here and keep an eye out for Sophia and Jade.”
“Thanks, Xavier.”
He nodded at me and picked up his phone to make another call.
I got into one of the elevators, punched the button, and rode down to the basement. The elevator doors opened, revealing a long, empty hallway. After the constant noise and motion upstairs, the lack of sound and people was a bit jarring, as if I’d been transported to a distant, deserted planet, instead of just another floor in the same building.