Be My Banshee (Purple Door Detective Agency Book 1) (8 page)

They found themselves on the street next to the purple convertible. It would be a long walk up the stairs to the building’s main floor for the officers, O’Neill, and Malto. Sunshine had temporarily disabled the elevator to slow them down.

“Your magic is quite dizzying,” Aine said as she got in the car. “Different than mine. I know the feel of it now, so I will recognize it in the future.”

Sunshine wasn’t sure if that was a warning or simply an observation. She didn’t pause to think of it there. Instead she started the car and left Caeford’s lair as quickly as evening traffic would allow.

“I knew Caeford wasn’t stupid enough to do something like that,” she said to Aine. “He would’ve taken care of it himself if he had. But that leaves us still guessing why John, and Harley Matthews were murdered.”

“Perhaps the dragon man has given us a good suggestion,” Aine said. “If Harley Matthews’s murder was just a smokescreen for John Lancaster’s death—to lead us in the wrong direction—that could be the only thing the two have in common. Any other inquiry into that line of thinking may lead us nowhere.”

Sunshine hit the purple steering wheel with the palm of her hand in a fit of frustrated temper. “What would someone hope to gain by hiding John’s death from me?”

“You mean besides their life? Whoever killed John would know that you would swear blood vengeance.”

“I suppose that’s true. I’ve never been tempted to kill another living soul—until now.”

“Then we shall need to find the killer to ask that question, but taking the dragon man off our list, who does that leave behind?”

“It’s not easy to kill a werewolf.” Sunshine ran her hand through her hair. “I don’t know what creature could have done it but it had to be strong and there had to be magic.”

“We agree on that. I am unfamiliar with the creatures that dwell here. But surely none have enough magic that they would not fear your reprisal.”

“Hey!” Sunshine smiled at her. “Thanks.”

“It was not a compliment, merely an observation.”

“I see. Well, thanks anyway. I’m kind of powerful. I keep it hidden so no one suspects. I don’t want people to fear me, but it’s nice to be respected.”

Aine agreed. “You are moderately strong. But you certainly have potential.”

Sunshine began going through a list of creatures that could have killed John and were present in the city. “Of course, another werewolf could fit the bill. Definitely Caeford, but he’s one of a kind. I don’t know of another dragon for thousands of miles, although I’ve heard of one in California. A really strong witch could have killed him, but I think we both would’ve sensed that much magic. And I don’t see a witch making a mess like that, do you? There are a few older vampires around but they’re kind of settled, you know?”

“Tame,” Aine added. “What about local demons? Or other shapeshifters—besides one of your mouse woman’s strength. Quite obviously, she could not have killed a wolf.”

“There are other shifters.” Sunshine shrugged. “I’ve met some of them. They could be powerful enough to kill John. I’ll have Jane print a list of them for us to track down.”

They made a quick stop at a small grocery store to resupply the office. When they finally got back to the agency, Jane was waiting anxiously at the door.

“I found something interesting about the man on the roof.” Her eyes were glued on the bags in Sunshine’s arms. “Did you get everything? I’m starving.”

“Yes. I got everything. Show me what you found and you can eat.” Sunshine held the bags away from Jane’s twitching nose and eager hands.

“Oh. Of course. Let’s look at the computer.”

They gathered around the flat-screen monitor. Aine touched a finger to it and watched the screen’s negative response. Sunshine laughed and told her that she should just look at it.

“I did a thorough search.” Jane pulled up several dozen files. “Harley Matthews had some interesting clients at
Tattoo Hell
, including John.”

“John had a tattoo done there?” Sunshine read quickly through the names on the receipts. “I see quite a few names that I recognize. Amos Johnson is a shifter—some kind of cat.”

Jane yelped and started trembling.

“Don’t worry,” Sunshine told her. “I’m sure he’s not looking for you.”

“Thanks.” Jane squeaked.

“What of the others?” Aine asked.

“Marcus Fletcher is another werewolf.” Sunshine pointed out. “Tom Knox is a shifter. So is Irene Godfrey. It’s like
Tattoo Hell
is making itself the go-to place for creatures in the area. But why kill John, and who killed Harley?”

Aine glanced at her. “What is the likelihood that this tattoo man was an innocent as he watched Caeford unfurl his wings? Perhaps he was there to challenge the dragon.”

“Surely no human would be stupid enough to challenge a dragon,” Sunshine said thoughtfully.

“I would have said the same about a human challenging a wolf,” Aine added. “In my day, when men hunted a wolf, they went in a large pack, many times with witches who aided them in securing the wolf’s death.”

“Maybe Harley Matthews wanted to get Caeford as a client,” Jane suggested in a timid voice.

“No matter what, it sounds like we need to pay a visit to
Tattoo Hell
.” Sunshine looked at Aine. “How do you feel about getting a tattoo?”

Jane snatched the food bags from the desk and hurried with them into the kitchen area. Sunshine went to change clothes for something more appropriate and left Aine sitting at the computer.

It was a curious device that the
beane sidhe
carefully inspected. It didn’t respond to any of her spoken magic. There was a long, black rope coming from it, possibly made of leather. It appeared to be the tail of the beast. She pulled the end of it from a hole in the wall. The colorful, lighted box went dark.

“What did you do?” Jane skittered from the kitchen. “It took me a long time to get that information together. Lucky for you I made copies of everything. You shouldn’t touch things when you don’t understand them.”

Normally Aine’s response to the young woman wouldn’t have been pleasant. She wasn’t one to ignore a challenge. Part of her reluctance to do anything but nod to the creature was her background. The other part was expecting something in return.

“Show me. I am very interested in this magic.”

Jane sat down with a careful laugh. “It’s not magic. It’s science. This is a computer. You pulled the plug from the wall where it gets the power. When it stays plugged in, electricity passes from the wall into the machine. This is how you start it.”

Aine watched her movements carefully. As long as O’Neill lived in this place, she would be bound here with him, in one form or another. It was good to learn the things of this time.

“Thank you, Jane. Now show me information on O’Neill as you showed Sunshine about Harley Matthews.”

“Okay. I can do that. He’ll be easier since he works for the police department.” Jane had to wait for the computer to finish rebooting and then typed Sean Patrick O’Neill into the search bar.

Instantly there were hundreds of men with the same name. Jane weeded through them, adding search criteria until she found the man they were looking for. In another moment, everything about O’Neill was on the screen—from his job as a police detective to his home address, the gym where he worked out, the bank he frequented, even the finance company that held the loan on his car.

“See?” Jane smiled brightly at Aine. “And this is only the beginning. If I wanted to, I could tell you what he had for breakfast this morning.”

“What about a lover?”

“You don’t think it’s the other detective, Malto, do you?”

“No. There is no sign of affection between them. There must be another—perhaps the raven-haired woman at the…”

“Pizzeria,” Jane finished for her. “It might take a few minutes, but I can probably find something if there’s a serious woman in his life.”

Aine stood up straight. “Of course there is a woman in his life. The O’Neills have always been susceptible to the female influence.”

“Okay. I’ll be glad to help.”

Sunshine was back as they finished speaking. She noticed how pleased Jane looked, even though she wasn’t eating. It was unusual for her. She normally had two modes—hunger and fear.

“What did you say to Jane?” she asked Aine as they were leaving for
Tattoo Hell
.

“I asked for her help with the magic box to locate O’Neill’s current lover.”

“You don’t think it’s Malto? They seemed pretty tight—except for the honey at the pizzeria. Is that who you’re thinking of?”

“I don’t know.” Aine inspected Sunshine’s change of clothing. “Is this what is considered necessary for the tattoo shop?”

Sunshine looked down at her jeans and tank top beneath a gray trench coat. “This is trendier than what I was wearing. You should fit right in. You look kind of Goth, or whatever they’re calling it now.”

“But I do not require a drawing…tattoo…on my person. In my day, a witch could be burned for such a thing.”

“Don’t worry. Not much witch burning going on right now. You can hold my hand so I don’t scream when I get my tattoo.”

Aine looked at her sharply. “Is that what you require?”

“Maybe. We have to blend in if we expect to get good info.” Sunshine opened the car. “This should be quite an experience.”

Chapter Nine

Sunshine followed the GPS unerringly to the tattoo shop on the other side of town. Of course Norfolk, being a Navy town, had a history of tattoos and tattoo artists.
Tattoo Hell
was a newer store set in a bevy of psychic readers and nail shops, but it stood out with its flaming sign and giant devil’s head coming out of the middle.

The shop wasn’t busy. Only two artists were there with a few friends hanging around comparing their recent tattoos. Everyone noticed when the women walked in.

A younger man came to greet them. “I’m Michel.” He grinned. “Like Michelangelo?” He laughed at his own joke as he sized up Sunshine from her high-heeled, black boots to the top of her frizzy hair. “What can I do to you?”

Sunshine giggled and put on a sweet, stupid smile. “You know, we were just daring each other to get some ink tonight. I was thinking of a simple pentagram on my arm. What do you think?”

“Sounds fun to me, pretty lady. Step into my parlor.” He indicted a lounge chair behind him. “What about your girlfriend?”

“I do not require your services, boy,” Aine told him. “But I will remain at her side.”

“Okay. Let’s draw a few pentagrams and see what gets you going. What’s your name?”

“Sunshine Merryweather.” She put her hand in his to have him help her into the lounge.

“Awesome name.” One of the other young men wandered their way to watch the procedure. “Your parents must’ve been hippies. Or is that a stage name?”

“Nope,” she responded. “It’s all mine.”

Michel drew some pentacles. Some were plain while others had flourishes and embellishments on them. “You can start with something simple and add on later.”

“Sounds good. Let’s do the basic.” Sunshine almost backed out of it when she saw the tattoo needles and ink. “Maybe even half a pentagram would be good.”

“The Celts had tattoos, though they didn’t refer to them as such,” Aine said. “They were mostly done with woad and sharp objects used to puncture the skin. Many of them proved to be fatal through infection. But they were tribal people who lost great numbers during battle and didn’t seem to mind dying for other causes as well.”

When she’d stopped speaking, everyone was staring at her. Sunshine laughed to break the tension brought on by the hypnotic monotone of the
beane sidhe
.

“Sure. Okay.” Michel shook his head to clear it. “We’ll do the basic pattern.”

The other two people in the shop stood close to watch. Sunshine closed her eyes and invoked a spell to help her relax and another to make sure the tattoo was safe and painless.

As Michel focused on what he was doing, she asked about other tattoos he’d done.

“I do hundreds a week. Some are really elaborate. Some are simple like yours.”

“I have a friend who had his ink done here,” she continued. “Maybe you remember him, John Lancaster.”

“Really?” One of the watchers was immediately interested. “I know that name from somewhere.”

“My friend,” Sunshine continued. “Do you know him, Michel?”

“Yeah. I remember him. Big man. Dark hair.” He didn’t look up from her arm. The drone of the tattoo gun hummed.

“He was killed this week. They found him dead in an alley by the mall.” Sunshine watched his face closely. “Did you hear about it?”

“No. I didn’t hear that. I’m sorry. He seemed like a good guy.”

Aine discerned a slight variation in his tone and a small twitch to his mouth. “Did you know John outside this establishment?”

“I only met him once. He was Harley’s customer.” Michel’s gaze wandered for an instant. “Are you cops or something?”

“We’re not cops,” Sunshine assured him. “But we did hear that something bad happened to Harley today. I’ll bet you know about that too.”

“Look, I have to concentrate to get this right. I can’t talk at the same time.”

“I understand.” Sunshine knew they were getting to him. “We can always talk when you’re done.”

Michel looked even more nervous at that idea. His hand shook a little, but the spell kept the pentagram straight. The other tattoo artist urged the remaining customers out the front door and slowly put up the closed sign.

Aine watched his furtive movements as he moved away from the door to a cabinet at the side of the room. She could hear his heart beating fast—too fast for his slow movements. He was trying to throw them off and was planning an attack.

She stood to her full height, the hag taking over her appearance as she raised a skeletal arm and pointed at him. “Stop,” she commanded. “You shall not move.”

The artist stopped in full stride, eyes glazed, mouth hanging open. There was a small caliber handgun in his grasp.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Sunshine said to her. “There’s definitely more to you than just a pretty face.”