Page 50 of Deadly Deception
Chapter
Seventeen
Erasmus
Sometime, during the hubbub surrounding finding Dr. Scott lying unconscious on the floor and the EMTs taking her away, I got a call and voicemail from Frost. Franklin and Sheriff Henson were going around the morgue, examining the space and looking for anything the assailants might have left behind. At this point it was a fair assumption there’d been more than one. Corpses weren’t light and they’d left the gurneys behind, meaning the bodies had been carried out. I suppose they could have brought their own transport equipment. That would also make sense. Too bad all the cameras in the precinct had been disabled. It would take a forensic tech expert to figure out how it had been done. Considering I was a low-tech guy, that eluded me.
I played the voicemail and got the first bit of good news today.
“Necromancer Boone, this is Agent Frost. The Magical Usage Council is sending you Tabitha Clark. I’ve worked with her before and she’s the real deal. If a medium is what Navarre needs, then that’s what he’s getting. Contact me if there are any issues. I made a point to express to the council how importantI believe necromancer health and identification is to the future safety of all species. Have a good day.”
I figured the good day aspect was already blown to hell but appreciated the sentiment regardless. I checked to make sure there were no other messages either on my voicemail or text messaging and there were not. Frost’s message was only twenty minutes old, so there probably hadn’t been enough time to receive more.
Staring at Dr. Scott’s lingering bloody smear, I felt bile rise and was grateful we’d gotten Navarre out of the precinct last night. Thinking of the necromancer, I walked to Franklin and asked to borrow his phone. He gave me a strange look but quickly acquiesced. I held the phone in front of his face to unlock it and then scrolled until I found Shane Tompkins’s information.
I’d need to be careful, just in case the walls really did have ears, but I wanted to check in and make certain Navarre and Tompkins were okay. It would also be a good idea to give them a heads-up. Attacking a medical examiner under the noses of a dozen or more cops was a bold and possibly desperate move.
Pulling up Tompkins’s number, my heart raced as it rang once, twice…four times. I was sure it would go to voicemail but then Tompkins answered with a friendly, “How are you doing, Franklin?”
“Sorry, this is Erasmus. Franklin’s a little busy at the moment.”
There was a pause before Tompkins’s tone dropped, concern mounting. “What happened?”
“Franklin’s fine. We heard you were feeling a little under the weather and I was just calling to check in”
Another pause, this one longer. I hoped Tompkins picked up the continued subterfuge. He didn’t disappoint and said, “Probably just a cold. I didn’t want to be irresponsible and pass it around to everyone else.”
“That’s considerate of you,” I answered. “Franklin and I were going to stop by later, just to drop off some soup. I’ve also got a charm or two from Pops that might help. Is that okay? We won’t come in and bug you or risk getting sick.”
“That sounds fine. Do you know what time?”
“No. There’s a bit of a situation at the precinct.” Even if someone was listening in, they wouldn’t think it odd that I brought this up to Tompkins. “Dr. Emily Scott was attacked in the morgue. Most of the bodies I found are missing.”
Tompkins sucked in a harsh breath. “Is Emily—”
“She’s been taken to the hospital. I don’t know any more about her status.”
“Shit.”
I cleared my throat and said, “I thought you might like to know given that you’re on friendly terms with the sheriff and Dr. Scott.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate any updates when possible.”
“Franklin has you on speed dial,” I answered. “I’ll let you know when we’re on our way there.”
“I’ll be expecting you later. Thanks again. You and Franklin take care.”
“You too,” I said by way of goodbye.
I pocketed Franklin’s phone and continued standing, leaning against the wall as Franklin and Henson made their way around the room. Henson took pictures and laid little numbers beside evidence. I’d been to enough crime scenes to understand the general practice. I’d bet Henson never figured his own precinct would need photographed in such painstaking detail.
My legs began to ache, and my back protested the standing position. I missed my flip-flops, not that they would have added a lot of support. No wonder those who worked in conditions where they were constantly standing on such unforgiving ground paid a small fortune for supportive footwear. I missedthe softer ground of the cemeteries I frequented. I missed the gentle hum of the lower-level ones, the cemeteries whose residents had been there for a century or more and had passed contentedly.
My stomach growled and when I checked my watch, I saw it was nearing lunchtime. I was about to say something to Franklin when my phone buzzed with an incoming text. When I checked it was from a number I didn’t recognize, but the message was one I’d eagerly awaited.
Necromancer Boone, I will be in the Chicago area by three p.m. Where would you like to meet? Tabitha.
It was a little past noon now. I quickly texted Tabitha the address of the hotel Franklin and I were staying in. It was about a fifteen-minute drive from the Sheriff’s department. If Franklin and I left soon, we could grab something to eat and get back to the hotel in plenty of time.
