Page 86 of Deadly Lineage
Franklin
While I understood Captain Cicely’s decision, I didn’t have to like it. What I did need to do was not be a complete and total asshole. Determined to act like an adult, I stopped by a local café, filled up on caffeine, and headed to work. I’d gotten a full night’s sleep too. Harrison was right—being exhausted wouldn’t do anyone any good. I needed my A game, and that wasn’t going to happen if I was depriving myself of sleep.
I’d swung by Boone’s late last night before heading home. All his lights had been off. I’d sent a text he hadn’t responded to until about seven this morning. Boone was safe, and according to him, had slept like the dead. He’d apologized for not answering sooner, but he’d been so out of it he hadn’t heard the text alert. I’d figured as much. That hadn’t stopped me from worrying. It also planted the idea in my head that maybe I needed to ask Boone for a key to his place. You know, for safety reasons.
My coffee was three-fourths gone by the time I arrived at my desk. Harrison walked over before I pulled my laptop free.
“You’re here early,” I said, glancing at my watch. It was a little before eight a.m. I was no slouch and was in before mosteveryone else. I would have arrived sooner except for my café run.
“Only about ten minutes before you,” Harrison said. “The captain’s already in her office. She wants a list of local necromancers.”
My fingers skimmed my coffee cup before I dropped them to my side. “How does she expect us to get that?” It wasn’t that it was a poor idea—far from it. From what we now understood, a necromancer was most likely behind this. It had been Boone’s first thought. Mine too, after learning what he could do. The sticking point was always the same issue—were there even any other necromancers about? And if so, who were they? And even if we knew that, could they do what we were accusing them of? I’d held out hope that it might be another species, but that option looked slim. I still wouldn’t put it past a warlock to be in on the game. We might be looking for a team, not a single offender.
“No idea.” Harrison yanked a nearby chair over and plopped down. As often as she’d been at my desk, I was beginning to think the chair needed to be a permanent resident. “I’ve been racking my brain all night. You got any ideas?”
Following Harrison’s lead, I sat down and unbuttoned my suit jacket. It was already too hot for long sleeves. I just couldn’t seem to break the habit.
I tossed my phone on my desk and stared at the darkened screen. Did I have an idea? I did. Sort of. I wasn’t sure it would pan out and hated to pose the question. That didn’t mean I could be a chickenshit either. Lives were at stake. Boone’s reputation was now at stake too.
“Let me make a phone call.” Before I could think better of it, or consider the time zone differences, I pulled up Nikodemus Holland’s number and hit the call button. The phone rang andrang. I figured it would go to voicemail but at the very last ring, a sleepy voice growled, “What happened to my son?”
Chills raced down my spine. Warlock Holland was still several states and three time zones away. He couldn’t physically harm me from that location. That didn’t stop my heart racing and my blood pounding. Fear is instinctual and mine was fully engaged.
“Boone is fine,” I answered, wondering how true that was and what Holland knew. Had Boone called him last night? Did his father know just how worn-down Boone was, what he’d been accused of, and that the captain had kicked him off the case?
“Then why are you calling me at this Gaia-forsaken hour?”
I cringed. “Apologies. I’m afraid the case is getting to me, and I didn’t consider the time difference.” I shot Harrison a worried glance and she returned it full force. She also mouthed, “Idiot,” and I didn’t have it in me to disagree.
“Fuck,” Holland cursed. “If I truly cared, I would weep for humanity’s endless faults.”
“I can call back later,” I offered, ignoring the dig on my species.
“You have already awakened me. I see no need to repeat the interruption later. What is it you need, detective?”
This definitely wasn’t getting off on the right foot. Clearing the cobwebs and uncertainty from my throat, I said, “You told me that a record of necromancer children isn’t kept in the warlock archives.”
Holland’s sigh was long, low, and full of disdain. “Yes. We have already discussed this.”
I hastened on. “But their mothers are.”
“Yes, yes. Again, we have already discussed this, and I have provided you with the names you required.”
“And I’m very grateful for that.” I swallowed hard, unsure how difficult my next request might be. “Would it be possible toget the names of recent mothers within a specific mile radius of my current location?” This time when I glanced Harrison’s way, she was leaning on the edge of her seat, eyebrows raised and hopeful.
Silence was my answer. I didn’t think the call had been dropped. Holland might have hung up on me, or he might be wrangling every ounce of patience he could muster for a lowlyhuman.
“How large of a radius?”
I hadn’t been expecting that question and did a quick guess, “The state of Mississippi and all surrounding states.” I wasn’t sure how large a number that might be.
Holland’s words were like ground glass. “Timeframe?”
Again, I did some quick math. “I’m not sure how old this necromancer might be. Is there an age when they come into their abilities?”
“That would depend on the necromancer. All show signs when young, but typically they must be in their early teenage years to understand their full potential. Although, I am basing this knowledge solely on my own son.”
A sampling of one wasn’t very large, but it was all I had to go on. “Then anyone who might be that age up to…let’s say ninety.” I didn’t think we had an elderly serial killer, but stranger things had happened.
