Page 39 of Goblins Don't Count
He closed the door behind me, leaving me and him and his ringing phone together. He ran a hand through his hair and then grabbed a bag of licorice off the desk, tearing it open. “Look, Sato, you can’t go into the governor’s ball and start interviewing people. Everyone’s calling me to complain about it. Clay corp, the city hall, the mayor. Absolutely everyone wants to know why I think it’s fine to send one of my men into their midst when they’re trying to do business. I need to suspend you.”
I stared at him. “Suspend me? You can’t. I was there on a private date. I didn’t flash my badge or use the name of the station.”
“They say you compelled everyone to speak, that they couldn’t resist your truth compulsion. You used magic on them, like you used it on the Goblin Authority. He never would have appeared in public, unmasked, on the arm of a witch.”
I snorted. “My magic? You think it’s easy to use compulsion on a group that large? You think I have that much magic? I can read auras, not control minds. You can’t suspend me in the middle of this murder case.”
His face turned purple, but he kept his voice level. “This murder case? You mean suicide.”
“I mean murder. You can’t expect anyone to believe that these deaths aren’t linked. No one is that stupid!”
He scowled at me, but he only chewed on his licorice vigorously. “You know that we’re short-handed, Sato. Otherwise, I’d suspend you for good. As it is, you’re going to check out this list of complaints.” He took a small sheet of paper and slapped it on the edge of his desk. “Car robbery, a domestic abuse dispute, a burglary, and on the way back, stop and ticket the cars illegally parked in front of the mayor’s house. Get out.”
“I don’t actually have work today,” I said. “It’s the weekend.”
His scowl doubled. “You know who’s here today to answer complaints about your stunt last night? You wanna talk about interrupted weekend plans?”
I hesitated and then shrugged and left, reading the list he’d handed me. It was a rather long list of case numbers that would keep me busy all day. Perfect. That meant I wouldn’t have to talk to my brother, or my parents, or anyone else who wanted to know what I was thinking, dating a goblin. As I worked, it bothered me. It being the fact that my boss wasn’t connecting the two deaths. How was it possible for them to not be connected? It was incomprehensible, and yet, there he was, not linking them. It’s almost like he had an ulterior motive for preaching the suicide story.
I stopped filing papers on the car robbery I’d covered and sat down in my chair instead. We were talking about corruption with a judge and a state rep. If corruption could be at those levels, why not in a police station?
I hurriedly finished my report, then took it out of my office and down the hall, towards the back stairs that led down into the records room. The older reports hadn’t been digitized yet. Of course not. We barely had the staff to keep up with current cases.
I went into the records room, past the desk where Nills usually sat dozing, far past the age of retirement, but he wasn’t here on weekends. I filed the car robbery report and then closed my eyes and tried to read the aural imprints left on the papers. That was advanced work that I’d never been able to do before, but combined with my sense of smell, I found the last half dozen cases that Lieutenant Joss had personally touched, leaving a faint blur of energy as well as the scent of licorice.
With those files tucked under my arm, I headed up the stairs, heart pounding as I tried not to look suspicious. I’d made it past Lieutenant Joss’s office with the papers and could breathe, except that I actually registered the face of the man coming towards me, walking with Lewell, probably towards Joss’s office.
His eyes met mine, and he smiled, showing dimples that no respectable warlock should have.
“Winston Warlock, the detective?” I breathed. No. He was a television character, not a real person, and he did his show on the coast, not here in Singsong City.
His smile deepened as he took my folder out of unresponsive fingers and pulled out a pen. “Who should I make the autograph out to?” he asked, much flirtier than he was on the show. Not that I watched it often. It was over-the-top ridiculous.
I jerked the folder containing possible evidence out of his hands. “Sorry, no. I’m not a fan. I just recognized you from all the posters in bedrooms growing up.” I bit my bottom lip when I realized what I’d said. “I mean, other witch’s bedrooms, not mine. I had posters of Harriet Knightley, only I had them in the back of my closet so my mother wouldn’t see. She doesn’t approve of female cops. Too dangerous.”
He blinked at me. “You’re a witch? I could hardly tell with all the goblin energy wrapped around you.”
It was my turn to blink. “Right. You’re an actual warlock, not just an actor.”
He smiled with teeth that time. He slipped his arm in mine and smiled at Lewell. “I’m sure she can show me to the big boss’s office.”
Lewell looked at me. I shrugged, because Winston the Warlock’s aura was incredibly stable. “Sure I can.” Holding reports I wasn’t supposed to be looking over, which may or may not implicate my boss. “What brings you to Singsong, and specifically to our police station? Did someone break into your car?”
He gave me another smile, but held me back so we were walking very slowly to Joss’s office. “I actually heard about a witch stirring up trouble in public circles, trouble like I haven’t heard of in some time. The Singsong City coven is completely unregulated as well as undocumented. Very few covens aren’t registered, so it’s hard for me to properly represent you, but I will try.”
I stared at him, confused. “You, Winston Warlock, are here to register witches?”
He flashed another smile. “Of course not. I’m here to convince your coven to register themselves after I pacify the pitchfork group. There are far more pros than cons to being affiliated.”
“There’s only one con that anyone cares about here. Registration goes against the wild and free spirit of witchcraft. Portalia will refuse.”
“Perhaps, but as it’s a wild and free coven, each member can decide for themselves.”
I snorted. “You haven’t met Portalia.”
“No, I’ve never come to the Singsong City Coven, most likely because I was unaware of its existence until you showed up on my radar. You are the witch who crashed the governor’s ball and began compelling everyone left and right to answer your questions, aren’t you?”
I blinked at him. “No. I mean, I was there, but I didn’t compel anyone. That’s ridiculous. I can only read auras.”
