Page 5 of Goblins Don't Count
“Brannigan will pick you up at the usual place.”
He hung up on me and I moved fast, hurrying to the bathroom and shedding my clothes as I went. I stopped with a lurch when I saw the mirror. Written in blood were the words, ‘Be sure to hydrate,’ with an arrow pointing down to a bottle of water on the counter.
I stared at the bottle, at the words, and then at the bottle again.
It finally hit me.
Sashimi had tucked me into bed last night! A goblin had broken into my apartment, tucked me into bed, and written on my mirror in blood!
I peered closer at the glass and touched the word, ‘hydrate.’ No, that was lipstick, not blood. Was it my good lipstick? No, it was the cheap one I never wore. That was all right then. Except that a goblin had been in my apartment! A goblin assassin!
I rubbed my forehead absently, then winced when I saw the red streak I’d left behind. I had to get to the scene of a crime. I couldn’t worry about Sashimi right this second. Was this normal goblin behavior or obsessive stalker goblin behavior?
I shook my head and pulled off the rest of my clothes and climbed into the shower. There were no notes in there. I washed up as quickly as possible, pausing to sniff my shampoo. It smelled particularly strong and piney today. Not only piney, chemical-laden. I didn’t have time to make my own shampoo like a proper witch who would steep all the herbs at midnight and stir up the lathering stuff in an enormous cauldron. Maybe I should go to the next coven meeting just to buy some good shampoo that didn’t smell so wrong.
I washed my hair with the offensive shampoo, sniffing as I stepped out, towel wrapped around me. I wiped down the mirror so I wouldn’t have to think about Sashimi while I blow-dried my hair. A proper witch wouldn’t ever blow dry her hair, but the magic in my veins was hardly strong enough to worry about the negligible magic I might lose through violent man-made wind currents rushing through my mane.
I applied basic makeup, got dressed in my neat pants suit, the gray one, and then grabbed my bag, throwing everything back in it, and headed out. I paused at the door and the small sticky note on the door frame. It was written in Goblin.
I watered your plants. You should water them at least once a week. They also needed more sun, so I put them out on your porch.
~Sashimi
I stared at that note, cocking my head as I puzzled and puzzled over the weird goblin who watered people’s plants. Was that a stalker thing or a goblin thing? I’d been out cold, and he could have hurt me in any number of ways, but instead, he watered my plants, and me, because he’s the one who put the bottle of water by my bed, and in the bathroom. Maybe this was a goblin sense of humor. Yes, I will pretend to be a mother and take care of the plants too. Or maybe…
I shook my head and left my apartment, locking it behind me. I didn’t have time to try and understand goblin mind-think right this second. If necessary, I could always write another letter to the Goblin Authority, like the first time I’d written to him about the goblins who were bullying my little brother. That had been extremely effective. The bullying had stopped immediately, and we’d had a correspondence for years while he not-so-subtly helped me with my goblin grammar. That was when I was twelve, and then when I was fifteen, Sashimi started coming to the sushi bar and helped me actually speak the language. Had it already been ten years?
I edged around my plants, and they did look sad and neglected. My mother gave me a plant for my birthday every year to cultivate the natural neutral magic in me. But I didn’t have time for plants when I spent my life building a career I didn’t let my family know about. I spent a lot of time at the courthouse, and always dressed like a lawyer, which was another reason I’d made detective so young. The deception also probably hurt my magic, because you had to be free and clear of conscience to really reach your full potential, but my potential had always been so scant. I’d rely on my work ethic and passion for justice instead.
“Rynne!” my brother yelled.
I looked up and waved at him from where he was poking his head out of his bedroom window. “We’ll talk later. I’ve got to go in to the office for a case.”
“On Sunday?” His frown was adorable.
I stopped walking abruptly and felt a rush of dread sweep through me. “Sunday?” Was he serious? Had I slept since Thursday night until Sunday morning? That was two solid days of sleeping. No wonder I needed to hydrate. Not that Sashimi had known I’d sleep that long. Right?
“Yeah. You don’t work Sundays. You promised dad you’d go to the book fair with him.”
“Oh. I did. Maybe I’ll get back up in time. It’s just that this client has these new accusations, and I really need to help him.”
“Yeah.” His face was disapproving.
“Yeah,” I said, straightening my spine. “You know what, Tarn? You can go to the book fair with dad. Do a guy bonding thing. Make it fun for him because you’re an adult and can handle humoring someone else. I’ve got work.”
“You’ve always got work,” he muttered before slamming the window closed.
That wasn’t true. I mean, it was true, but only because I worked at the restaurant and the police station, but that was a good thing. He needed to work more. He was always messing around with his magic, with his banana bike, with his friends.
I headed at a brisk walk towards the corner where I’d wait for my partner, then jumped when a raccoon hissed at me. How had I missed him? I’d almost stepped on his tail.
“Easy,” I said, edging away from the snarling beast. Raccoons were not my favorite. When I finally got past his twitching whiskers and bared teeth, I broke into a run. When I reached the corner, Brannigan was already there, engine running. I slipped in, feeling all kinds of a mess, but I tried to look calm and in control.
“Sato,” he said with a nod before pulling out. “You look like crap.”
I sighed and checked my reflection in the care rear-view mirror and had to agree with him. I looked like I needed to sleep for another week. I clearly needed stronger makeup. “You’re just jealous because I’m so pretty. Where’s the crime?”
“At the courthouse for real, ironically enough. The judge was found in his office this morning by the cleaning crew. He’s been there since Friday evening, as far as they can tell.”
