Chapter 27 — Divine Intervention and Bloody Destiny
“I need to make a recording,” Chris said coolly as I took my chair at the small table inside my old inn room. “That way we can catalogue the information you provide. Do you consent to a formal interview?” He clicked a record button on the digital recorder, the miniature LCD screen lit up and showed a timer which began ticking up as each second passed. His eyes met mine again as he waited for a response so it too could be recorded.
I nodded, rather than answering out loud just to irritate him. His jaw tightened again, he repeated the question but added the request for me to answer out loud which I did.
He ran a hand through is hair, annoyed, “One of the local officers who assisted us yesterday reported that you have a history of being involved in things like this, and he was more than eager to find and question you.”
“Wow, you actually use a digital recorder? Why not a phone? It’s got to be annoying carrying both around, making sure they have a charge—”
“—Let’s not focus on unimportant details. Can you give me your name, Mr. …?”
“Cal,” I said simply, not liking the intonation of his question.
“Just Cal?”
“For now, yes.” I wasn’t one to give out my full name, not if I could help it. Fae beings could do interesting magics with a freely given name and he had asked for my name personally. That could carry many connotations. Chris didn’t have a mana core, and my glasses seemed to have ruled out most other changes that would be present in something that could harm me, but you could never be certain, and they were still prototypes. In a setting like this it was unlikely he could do anything too nefarious, even if he had been a fae, but old habits die hard.
“Even for the sake of the record?”
“Cal works fine for me.”
Chris sighed, “I know your full name is Cal August. As I’ve stated, I had a good discussion with a few of the local Boise police officers, an Officer Vance was more than happy to tell me about his past run ins with you. Is Cal August your full name?”
“Yes,” I said. Him knowing it was different than me giving it. I wasn’t surprised he knew my name being one of the lead suspects, among every other detail he could get about my life. Chris smiled and I wondered if he knew what I was thinking. Lana had said he knew things. Perhaps this had been a soft test of my knowledge. What he probably didn’t know was that Cal August wasn’t even my real name… but that didn’t matter right now.
“Cal, could you explain—for the record—why you are so well known to some of the local police? And why they might think you are the perpetrator of any crimes committed at this establishment when the crime scene was discovered and your connection to it?
“Sure Chris,” I said with a fair amount of disdain. “I had a run in with the law a while back. I’m sort of a hobbyist private investigator as Lana said. I was involved in an altercation, no charges were pressed and officer Vance stubbornly keep me incarcerated for the full 24 hours he could for no reason.
“Those events could be construed as vigilantism.”
“Yeah, I’m just like Batman,” I said, eagerly. “Anyway, what happened was I found a pedophile—who’d slipped the police net and suspect pool for a missing persons case. I had connected him to a few of the disappearances and thought he was the reason for the kids going missing about a year and a half ago… we uh, had an argument when I confronted him—and I still allege that he threw the first punch. Anyway, he was the wrong guy for the true crime but deserved what he got all the same.” I said shrugging my shoulders.
“I’ve heard. To clarify, you attacked a random citizen you suspected of being the kidnapper, who after which suffered from a concussion, three broken ribs, multiple lacerations, and a crushed testicle, after the… argument. And you were?”
“Fine. I slept great that night other than being in the police station. I did develop a few bruises on my fists which was weird,” I said, grossly undermining the details he’d given as I considered my hands. I hadn’t heard how badly I’d beaten that guy up. Then again, I thought he’d been a changeling who would be able to heal rapidly and would have the ability to move around bones and organs in our fight. I guess a tier two body did have some perks when it came to a fight. Rex would be proud, Fren too for that matter. I’d have to let him know.
“All that and he still dropped the assault charges against you,” Chris said with a fake smile.
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess he didn’t want to go to court and have to explain why I allegedly beat the shit out of him.”
“Allegedly,” Chris agreed, his eyes watching my every move, twitch, and hand gesture. I knew he likely had tons of training in interrogation and body language. I had none, so I tried to remain comfortable and at ease. “Then a few weeks later information leading to his arrest mysteriously appeared inside the police station, atop the sheriffs desk.”
“Weird, right?”
Chris could see this was going nowhere and changed tactics focusing on the current situation after a long pause, “But you were here yesterday, at this inn?”
“Yes, I was,” I said.
“And this was indeed your room?”
“Yes.”
“Could you tell me why—” Chris said, letting the question linger as he pulled out a little note pad, “—all the light bulbs including those in the bathroom and closet, the hair dryer, the mini fridge, the TV, the TV remote, the alarm, the wall clock, and the smoke detectors in the room are all dead?”
“No idea,” I lied. We had enough light coming in from the front window that the lights weren’t needed but now that he pointed out their absence it stood out to me. I was used to having lights off and out, he wouldn’t be. “Must be something about the room. Maybe that’s why I didn’t sleep well?” I contemplated, “You should watch out for your tape recorder, it might not work after being in here. Something must be off with this place.”
“I’ve heard you don’t like electronics, that your shop has the bare essentials and even there you often don’t turn on the lights.”
“Ask around, power around the whole area is terrible. Surges blow out lights and electronics all the time. Plus, natural light is good for you and my shop has a lot of it.”
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“And it’s a crystal shop?”
“Yes.”
“And there was a burglary attempt on it last night?”
“Yeah...” I said, seeing the angle his investigation was leaning. He wanted to present me on the records as suspicious, trouble, dangerous.
“And you engaged in an altercation there?”
“Yeah, we got into a fight. I mean the guys were trying to rob me. I lost badly, but no one died.”
“Were you injured?”
I hesitated. I had been, the officers last night would have seen my wounds and put the description in a report somewhere. My head laceration had been cleaned up, but it had bled. Both Lana and my missing wounds would now be obvious. I felt restless and had to consciously stop one of my legs from twitching before I answered, “Yes.”
His eyes narrowed, and I saw a certain amount of glee in them as if I’d fallen for a trap, “My report shows you had a head wound, it looks fine today.”
Chris was taking this conversation into areas I really didn’t want to get into. Especially on record. I still couldn’t read him to see if he thought I was the suspect or simply an anomaly he was trying to figure out. The ability to hide what he was thinking was probably good for him and his career, and for playing poker, but it put me on edge.
“It was shallower than we first thought, and I heal fast. They wanted me to get stitches, but I declined. Good thing huh.”
“It’s quite irregular to have someone leave one crime scene and have another occur at their residence the same night.”
“I wish I knew why my luck was so bad,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “But I really have no idea.”
“Do you know about the local mauling’s and attacks in the forest?”
“I mean yeah, they are all over the local paper and apparently in the news.”
“What do you think about them?”
“I think… I think I’ve never seen or heard of a bear, wolf, or mountain lion which could attack that many people, hundreds of miles apart, anywhere in the world. But that’s what the news says is happening and they get their information from people like you, so who knows.”
“Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a detective,” I said, leaning back further into my chair. “I’m just a curious local shop owner.”
“Yet, you’ve been seen near many of these sites the days following an attack.”
“That’s possible, but it’s not like they publish where they take place and I like to hike. Like I said, it’s a hobby. Plenty of people are curious about the disappearances and I can admit to a little curiosity myself. It’s no surprise I’ve been around some of them.
“It could also be construed as a recognizable pattern,” Chris said. “Do you know that serial killers sometimes have a tendency to go back to the scene of a crime? They get a sick thrill out of it, or it stokes their ego and curiosity. For some, its almost like it’s part of the ritual.”
“I’ve heard that,” I said trying not to think about Kate’s comment. “Lots of books mention details like that and I’m a big reader. Seems like a dumb thing to do if you ask me.”
I glanced and saw his little recorder had died somewhere along the way. Only about a sixth of the screen was lit up and that flickered as if it had been shattered. There was no way the digital recording would make it if we went on any longer. Good riddance, I thought. Chris hadn’t noticed yet. With the death of the recorder I relaxed, I wasn’t feeling an overabundance of need in trying to restrain my aura.”
“Did you kill those people?” Chris asked, point blank.
“No,” I said. “I’m just trying to help.”
“And why would you be able to help, what can you offer that the local authorities lack?”
“I’m steeped in the metaphysical,” I said, deciding to lean into my shop persona. Despite what he may have said to Lana, Chris didn’t think I was innocent. I felt hesitant telling him I was a wizard, recorder or no. “I know things about the world that a typical investigator might not and would overlook. If I can, I want to help.”
“Why did you leave the inn so early yesterday?”
“I slept poorly and decided I wasn’t feeling up to hiking all day, so I went home.”
“What time was it?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I gestured to the room and the broken clock and the dead alarm on the nightstand beside the bed. “The sun wasn’t up, but it was close. I told the officers who interrogated me the same thing last night.”
“Tell me about the events that led up to your leaving?”
“I woke up, hadn’t slept, so I grabbed my bag and left. I checked out and talked to Phillis. Gave her my key. I was with her for literally fifteen seconds, then drove away. I didn’t know anything had happened until the police arrived at my home yesterday evening.”
“Tell me about Phillis?”
“She was nice. She wanted to know why I was leaving early and if I had liked my stay. I told her the stay was great, thanked her, then left.”
“You left quite fast. Our witnesses described you as ‘peeling out like a bat out of hell’.”
“Like a true vigilante,” I jested, knowing the recorder was done for. “I know who your witness probably was. She was always up reading at her window. Looked anxious, and easily irritated. I’m not sure what she’s doing on a vacation here because she was always in her room when I passed by, reading something or another. It wouldn’t take much for her to think someone was speeding. The truth is, the clutch on my jeep is touchy and on a gravel drive straight onto a highway it takes some work not to squeal the tires as I’m getting up to speed.”
“What is your relationship with Lana, one of the rangers working this case?”
“That doesn’t seem pertinent to the case.”
“I’m the detective and will decide what is pertinent. You knowing someone working the case is an abnormality.”
“Fine,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “We are friends. We were planning on going hiking today—her day off until you guys pulled her in by name—she got email while we were at her house and then raced here.”
“Why did you come along?”
“She told me to, said she knew you and I should come talk, get my name cleared and all that.”
Chris let out a sigh, steepling his fingers, “Why are you so interested in these attacks?”
“Because this is my home,” I said, leaning forward. My voice had grown harsher than I intended, and it was hard to hold back, “Nothing should hurt the people here, not if I can help it!” I said the last while standing, growing annoyed with the interview. “Are we done officer?”
“A little volatile, are we?” Chris said, a smirk I didn’t like on his face. He looked at the recorder, clearly hoping it had caught my change in disposition.
I returned his smirk when he saw it was broken. He eyed me like I’d incriminated myself by breaking it without his knowing. I raised my hands placatingly. “I warned you. Something is off with this room.”
“You’re hiding something.”
“Oh yeah. Lots of things,” I said. “But they aren’t relevant to your case. I didn’t murder Phillis. I wish I had been here, maybe I could have stopped it. I am here to help. Lana is not an idiot; you should trust her.”
“No, she is not,” he said with a reluctant sigh. “And I do trust her, more than I would trust anyone else in the world. But she’s been through a lot the past few years. She has a reckless self-destructive streak and has made some rash choices in a rush.” He eyed me up and down with an obvious dislike, “She could be making bad choices and as a friend who cares deeply about her, I’m here to help.” His expression made it clear I was one of those bad choices, the worst one. He couldn’t see what she saw in me and it made me angry because honestly, I wasn’t sure either. Compared to Chris, who was unnaturally handsome with muscles evident even through his suit coat, vibrant eyes, and pristine smile, I was average. He also had a steady job and a skill set similar to Lana's. I didn’t. I was strong in my own way, but leaner in my build. My hair was dark, my beard not as full. People who didn’t know me were sometimes put on edge when I was around. I could see it in the way they moved, stood, and regarded me. I was tall and imposing, something about my aura made me instinctively an outcast to most people. I had scars and a sharpness to my features that wasn’t from genetics. I was not the choice Lana should make. Yet, I couldn’t let his comment stand unconfronted. He wouldn’t have said it if the tape recorder had been working or Lana present.
“Or Chris, she found someone who could help her after discarding the trash,” I said voice seething. “Someone who cares. Someone who sees the real her, values her choices, and doesn’t categorize them as mistakes. Sometimes we meet the best people in our worst places. They help us out of them rather than watching us fall, judging it all.”
“Yeah, you think you’re a good person, you think your better than me?”
“Divine intervention and bloody destiny,” I said in a resounding voice like a stage magician. I was done with Chris and his incessant questions. “Those forces pulled us together. I saw it in my horoscope the day we met.”
Chris ground his teeth, his large jaw muscle bulging outward as he stood, hands locked into fists. I readied myself for the first blow.