Page 21 of Goblins Don't Count
He stared at me and then finally shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess like every other kind of person, it’s individual. Some people like one thing, some people like another.”
“But you were just saying that goblins, in general…”
“Rynne, goblins in general should be avoided.”
“We live in Singsong City. Goblins can’t be avoided. And maybe I’m turning into a goblin, and will have to deal with all of these tornado instincts. Maybe I’ll be the tornado. Maybe I’ll rip right through a horde of demons in parking garages. Maybe I don’t want my life to keep spiraling out of control. Maybe…”
He pulled me into a rough hug, squeezing me tight. “Don’t worry, Rinny. Someday you’re going to meet the perfect guy who fits you. Even if you don’t, you’ve got us.” He released me and headed to his place.
I watched him go, feeling a little more settled. He was good with that emotional manipulation my mother was trying so hard to pick up. Even if it was manufactured, I’d take that peace and use it to find a way out of this mess.
I went into my apartment and then got an old box from the closet above the tub where I kept the stuff I never used. There they were, all the letters I’d gotten from the Goblin Authority over the three years he’d written regularly. Once a week, enough to keep my goblin skills growing. He did know me. And he did hate the Magga. Maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.
ChapterSeven
Iwalked into work on Friday and heard the announcement: There’d been another sudden death at the courthouse during the night. It made me angry. It also made me forget about everything else.
I rode to the courthouse with Brannigan, seething.
He glanced at me. “You want to tell me ‘I told you so?’ Because that’s not going to go over well with Jossy. Get it out of your system now.”
“You think that I’m so petty that I need to say that in the face of murder? I’m just furious that this happened. Again. If they want to call it suicide, I’ll…”
“Go to the news? That’ll end well. You’re a cop, Sato. We have to deal with bureaucracy and red tape. Sad but true. At least now, you’ll probably get to investigate the murder. Maybe it’s a serial killer.”
I shook my head tightly, but I didn’t look at him. I was busy going through reports on my phone. “And that’s cause for celebration?” I shook my head and refocused on every document I’d already gone through during the last week on the judge’s death.
“It could just be a coincidence,” Brannigan said, pulling into the parking lot at the courthouse.
I didn’t bother responding to that. Instead, I took a deep breath and got ready to read auras. The crime scene was still being taped off, and the body wasn’t as pretty as the judge’s had been. More mess. Bigger caliber. And the victim? The state representative from Singsong’s district. The biggest difference between this ‘suicide’ and the other one, was that this one had a note.
The judge’s death leaves me feeling so guilty, I can’t live anymore. I ask forgiveness for my crimes against humanity.
~Phil
Phil’s handwriting was pretty steady, considering the stress he must have been under. Either someone had pointed a gun at him so he’d write the note, or he’d been wrought with anguish, and neither of those were in those careful letters. It was likely forged.
The rest of the scene was identical to the first, except that the office wasn’t the representative’s. It belonged to a clerk who wasn’t in town this week due to a lovely vacation she was taking in the Bahamas.
“What was rep Phil doing in the courthouse?” I asked Marv, the cop who’d gotten here first and started processing the scene.
“They have records of him coming in at four pm yesterday, but not for a specific reason. No idea where he was from four until whenever he was shot. Weird that there were two suicides at the same place, right? And only a few days apart?”
I crouched over the body and squinted while I tried to read his aura. I couldn’t read the aura of the dead, but I could smell his fear and anger, and there was a small indentation around his wrists. Thin, like he’d been held with plastic ties.
I stood up and walked around the small office, checking the view out the window of the park across the street. Could someone fit through this window? No one had heard the shot. No one had come in or out.
“Let me through! You can’t keep me out! I’ve got to see the—“ The sharp gasp at the end of the loud tirade matched the expression on the narrow-cheeked man’s face. He had gold spectacles and a blue suit, and looked like he should be in an office, not a crime scene.
I went over to him, noting the way he was staring at the fallen body. Shock. Disbelief. Horror. “Hi. Did you know Representative Phil?”
“Know him?” he asked, dazedly. “I’m his secretary. Why would he…” He shook his head, expression hardening. “He wouldn’t. He had tonight’s event to go to, and he wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Who killed him?”
“Tonight’s event?”
“Fundraiser with the most influential politicians in the city. He was finally closing the deal with…” He shook his head and glared at me. “Confidential information. I don’t suppose it matters now. Unless he can be raised.” He spun around and headed out.
I hurried after him. “What fundraiser would that be? Was he working on anything that made him particularly vengeful enemies? Did he know Judge Stevens? I need to look at his schedule, all his books.”
