00 Mayan Thief (The FBI Paranormal Casefiles) Page 9

  “But I bet he worked with someone who knew about artifacts and the way they were kept in secret. I’m sure his companions are well known in the underground world.” If he would give me a name, that was all I needed, but knowing Walter, he would make me beg for it. “Please, Walter, this is important. They attacked the commune. If we don’t protect ourselves, we might not be able to live there for long, and you know what will happen if Augusta is not there to send you food and brownies.”

  “Brownies.” His eyes lit up as if he could taste them. “I love brownies.”

  “Augusta makes the best brownies in the world.”

  He licked his bottom lip. “Yum.”

  “If you let go of Bryan and help us, we can find those thieves.” I ignored the whimpers that escaped from the distinguished agent’s lips. The bubble had picked up speed. I was afraid if it didn’t stop soon, he might actually throw up. “We will forever be grateful to you. Augusta will be so thankful that she will shower you with brownies.” The image of Augusta throttling me with her bare hands popped into my head but I paid no heed. This was the only way to win over Walter. “You’ll be her hero.”

  Walter stood as still as a statue. For a few seconds, it looked as if he hadn’t really heard me but then suddenly he snapped his fingers. The bubble popped and Bryan fell on the ground. He screamed once and then lay still. Surely, he wasn’t dead. I dared not check up on him as yet. Walter was unpredictable. I could be his next target, but much to my relief, he stepped back. “Max Fallon. He is the best thief in the world, and he has never been caught. If he didn’t do it, he would know who did. Now go away. Take the FBI man with you.”

  “Thank you, Walter.”

  “If I don’t get my brownies, I will come after you.” He waved a hand at me. “I don’t forget a face ever.”

  That wasn’t true. His past memory was excellent but he wasn’t so good with new faces and names. I’d met him so many times but the only thing he connected to was the fact that I belonged to Augusta’s commune.

  “You’ll get them,” I promised.

  I hoped that Augusta would also keep her word. Otherwise, I was as good as dead. Walter’s wrath was legendary. “Bye, Walter. Thanks a lot.”

  He disappeared inside the cottage, and only when the door closed did I walk over to inspect Special Agent Bryan. Putting a hand on his wrist, I tried to check for a pulse. He groaned. “Oh good, you’re alive.”

  He opened an eye. “You’re insane.”

  “Well, actually, Walter is the one who is a little insane.”

  He whimpered, sat, and then stood. When he swayed on his feet, I tried to hold his arm, but he shrugged away my offer of help. “Don’t touch me. I think you have already done me more than enough favors.”

  “Hey, I told you to stay in the car, remember. If you only listened to what I said, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “You brought me to Loony Wal’s house. I can’t believe it. I mean, what did I ever do to you to deserve this fate?”

  It was hard to swallow the laughter that struggled to escape my lips. He was whining like a baby. “So you do know Walter?”

  “I was told Looney Wal. Not Walter Smith.”

  “It’s not my fault that you didn’t know his full name.” I shrugged. He took a few steps forward and picked up his gun. I thought he might shoot me. A vein popped on his forehead, but then he shoved it in his belt. “Walter is mad, and he hates FBI people. I told you as much as I could.”

  “You’re as mad as him.”

  “Hey, that’s below the belt.”

  “How did he get this information anyway? Is he in touch with the thieves?”

  I glanced back to see if Walter was following us. Sometimes he did that. “Don’t think so. He just knows things…I suspect that he is tapping into conversations.”

  “How can he do that? Is that a magic?”

  “It’s a learnt skill.” I sighed. “It’s just a theory. It’s not like he is going to share his secrets with anyone.”

  “The guy should be put in a cell somewhere,” he said.

  “It wouldn’t be nice to do that.”

  “Oh yeah. And what he did to me was nice?”

  “Hey. I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN THE CAR.” I glared at him. “If you’d listened to me, things wouldn’t have turned out so bad.”

  Not true. I was already in trouble, but for sure, Bryan compounded the problem.

  “You should have given me all the information in the first place,” he countered.

  We strode back to the car. He still looked a little green but at least he didn’t puke. And I thought it was mighty great that we managed to escape without a scratch on ourselves. Last time I came, Dubey and Walter nearly engaged in a battle and it took all of Augusta’s cunning to keep them from leaping at each other. Of course, I was the one who got hit on the leg with Walter’s spell, but then Augusta healed me pretty quick. It had hurt like a bitch, though.

  “You could have stopped him with a spell any time,” he grumbled.

  Opening the door, I sat in. No point telling him that an insane Walter was more dangerous than three ordinary mages. I was good, but he was in a league of his own. “Yeah, I could have, but that wouldn’t have gotten me what I wanted. Now at least we have a name, and that’s more than what we had before.”

  “Nearly cost me my life.”

  I sniffed. Zooming back, I turned the car around. Now we were headed for our next destination. At least, things were looking up. “Don’t exaggerate.”

  We bickered and fought for the rest of the way, but deep in my heart, I was happy that he was unhurt. For a few moments there, I had been scared. It was kind of strange to worry about someone. Sure, I was attracted to him, but there was something more at play here. Somehow I identified with Bryan. He was also a lonely soldier making his way through a world, and even though friends surrounded me, I was alone too.

  We were quite like two peas in a pod.

  No, I couldn’t afford to think like that. This was a big case, and I needed to have my wits about me. Getting distracted would only get me killed. All I needed to think about was my work. That was the only thing that existed, and nothing else had a place in my heart or mind.

  Chapter Ten

  Fun as the encounter with Walter was, I hoped we got a better lead when we visited Bella Singer. Bryan was pissed off with me. Not that I blamed him. It was lucky that he escaped unscathed. Walter had once hung an FBI agent upside down from a tree for forty hours. The man barely survived. After that, the FBI left him mostly alone. As we neared the house, I parked the car in an adjacent street. If she was hiding James, I didn’t want to alert him regarding our presence.

  “You want to go stake the back door?”

  Bryan sniffed. “This isn’t an official raid, Cleo. We can’t treat innocent people like criminals. All we can do at this point is to ask for her cooperation.”

  I huffed. His love for rules was so annoying. “What’s the point of having FBI with me if you’re not going to flex your muscles for a good cause? And you didn’t seem to have any qualms about pulling out your gun on Walter.”

  “He threatened you.”

  Ah! Too sweet.

  Had he really butted in because he tried to protect me?

  The man had a cute, heart-meltingly sweet streak that was a mile wide. And that was the very reason, I shouldn’t think about a relationship wth him. He was too warm, friendly, and innocent, while I was hardheaded, suspicious, and prickly.

  Not that I was thinking about a relationship.

  Not that he was also contemplating such thoughts.

  He probably hated me at this point.

  “Fine, fine, don’t do it,” I said. “Just try to look intimidating.”

  “She is a mage. Experience has taught me that nothing intimidates your kind.” When I glowered, he shrugged. “I’ll do my best.”

  “We need some information. Of course, it would be wonderful if we could find James sniveling in some corner of her hou
se. Boy, I’ll rake him over hot coals to find out who his partners are.” Seeing him wince, I smiled. “Just an expression. Of course, we’re not Gestapo.”

  “No, we’re not. Try to remember that.”

  “Hard ass,” I muttered.

  I expected a retort, but he was too sweet to do even that. Man. He was so, so wrong for me, and yet that was perhaps the reason why I was so damn attracted to him. Rather than give in to the temptation of turning towards him and planting my lips on his, I rang the bell. Work was what mattered. That’s what we were here for. No one answered so I rang the bell again. After I’d pressed it four times and still there was no response, something pricked at the back of my neck.

  “Bryan, I want you to survey the house from the right side. See if there are any open windows or doors. I’ll take the other side. We’ll meet at the back of the house in five minutes.”

  “She is not home, and we can’t break in.”

  “Just do it,” I snapped.

  Something in my tone must have told him that I was serious. Pulling out his gun, he went around the house. Even though there was no indication that something was wrong, the ominous silence inside the house told me that all was not well. Sweat beaded on my forehead. A swift gust of wind rustled through the trees. I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise. The memories that flooded through my mind made me reel; the absolute quiet, the click as I used my key to open the door, the stench that made me gag, the lifeless bodies, and the whimpers that escaped my lips. I was transported back to the day when I returned home from camp to discover my dead family. The temptation to lie down and give vent to the grief that threatened to swallow me was huge, but I had a job. Squaring my shoulders, I shook my head to wipe away the memories. Alert, anxious, I took a circuit around the house. Nothing stirred. Nothing moved. No one spoke – and yet I had a feeling as if there was the echo of a thousand screams around me.

  Bryan holstered his gun. “Nothing?” I couldn’t speak. He glanced at me, and somehow seemed to understand that I was going through some personal crisis. “What’s wrong?”

  “I…we need to break in to see if she is ok.”

  “How?” he asked. Rather than answer him, I walked over to the back door. After pulling it open, I waved a hand. There was a soft sound as the lock slid back. “You scare me at times,” he commented. After pushing the door open, I took a deep breath. The metallic scent of blood hit my nostrils. The waves of memories that assaulted my mind intensified. The pain almost brought me down to my knees. “Easy,” said Bryan. “You can stay outside. I will check.”

  It was obvious he understood my distress.

  His voice was surprisingly gentle. On another day, I would have given him a dirty look at the idea that I couldn’t handle the situation, but right now the thought of merely stepping out and not dealing with this mess was too appealing. But I would see it through. I might be grumpy, rude, but I certainly wasn’t a coward.

  No, I wasn’t.

  “I’m fine.”

  “But…”

  Even though memories flooded my mind, I pushed them away with an iron effort of will. “I really am, Bryan.”

  Perhaps he understood that I needed to do this on my terms, or maybe it was because I said his name in that gentle tone, whatever the reason, he didn’t insist that I stay behind. We moved forward, cautious, alert. The kitchen was quite big and roomy. It was also clean and undisturbed. We stepped into the corridor. There wasn’t a sound in the house. I’d a very bad feeling about this, and the longer we stayed inside, the more agitated I became. When we reached the living room, I peeked in. The next moment, I gripped Bryan’s hand.

  “What?” he whispered.

  “We can’t go in. It will disturb the crime scene.”

  Shifting slightly, he peeked over my shoulder. When he sighed, I knew that he’d come to the same conclusion. The woman who lay slumped on the chair, her head bent, was absolutely dead. Her dress was coated with blood. It spread in an untidy circle around her. The coffee table was pushed against one wall, and a side table lay unturned. The couch sat at an odd angle. There was a struggle before she died. At least, she fought hard, and even if she didn’t succeed, that effort gave her death some dignity.

  I wanted to move away, and yet, my feet seemed rooted to the floor. The scene was too familiar, and the memories that gnawed in my mind too sharp.

  I could see it all in my mind; my parents and my siblings, all dead.

  I could smell the blood.

  It was as if I was transported back in time to the tragedy that plagued me in nightmares even to this day.

  Bryan clearly understood the trauma I faced.

  “I’ll call 911,” he said. Gripping my hand, he led me away from the crime scene as if I was a child. “Stay in the kitchen.”

  If I’d believed for a moment that the woman could use some help or that she might be saved, I wouldn’t have hesitated to go over, but no one could lose that much blood and survive. Also I’d seen the edges of the wound that cut the woman’s throat from one end to another. Whoever killed her did quite a number. I took a seat. The case had taken new dimensions altogether, that was, if it was all related.

  Was it?

  I didn’t have a clue.

  Maybe this was the work of an estranged husband or boyfriend, or perhaps a crazy neighbor, or jilted lover. I couldn’t make assumptions, and yet I had the distinct feeling that this was all connected to the case we chased. Suddenly it wasn’t about Mayan artifacts or magical portals, but rather it was about the loss of a life. This woman had dreams, aspirations. She was probably a happy person.

  Who dared to cut short her life?

  Who dared to play God?

  “We’ll not let them go,” I said.

  My words surprised me. There was a hard edge to my voice.

  Bryan turned to look at me. After setting the phone down, he took a seat opposite me on the kitchen table. “It might be a coincidence. I mean…it could be a burglary.” The look I gave him spoke volumes. “Alright, sure. It couldn’t have been a burglary, but it could be something else.”

  “Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” I said in a weak voice. The queasiness in my stomach refused to subside. There was nothing more I wanted than to run away and just forget about this case and the dead body that lay a few feet away, but I couldn’t do it. Whatever the problems, I was determined to face them head on. “We’ll know more when the police get here.”

  It would take a long time for the police to process this information.

  “I better inform the department. They would want this update,” said Bryan.

  All I wanted was some time to control my breathing, my emotions. While he used his cell phone to update someone in the department, I concentrated on each breath. When the police arrived, I felt a little better. At least I wouldn’t puke, or at least I hoped so. We gave them as much information as we could, including the reason for our visit.

  “We came to talk to her regarding a case that the FBI is covering,” said Bryan. He’d already shown his credentials and introduced me as an independent contractor. “We wished to talk to Ms. Bella. Unfortunately, she was dead when we arrived.”

  “It’s good that you didn’t step inside the room.”

  “No, we didn’t want to disturb the crime scene.”

  The police officer who jotted down this information glanced at me, but I kept my mouth shut. Mainly it was because I suspected that if I spoke, screams might come out of my mouth. “Can you tell me a bit about the reason why you wanted to see her?”

  Bryan raised an eyebrow. At that moment, he was every inch of an FBI agent. I’d never seen that haughty look on his face. “I assure you that when I get approval to share confidential information with the local police, I would do so at your earliest convenience.”

  The police officer appeared to have expected that kind of a response. “It might help us in finding her killer.”

  “The FBI would do whatever is necessary to catch the culprit,
but we can’t share data of an ongoing investigation. However if we feel that it may help you catch the criminal, we will definitely give you access to pertinent information.”

  “I might have to talk to your superior officer.”

  “Please feel free to do so.”

  Both the men glared at each other. In the end, it was the police guy who looked away. “Fine, fine. You’re both free to go. We have your numbers, and if there is any information we feel that we need to share, we will definitely give you a call.”

  The sarcasm in his voice was all too obvious, but neither Bryan nor I cared. If they managed to find the killer, we would get the news. “Thank you, officer.” We made our way out to our car. “I’ll drive,” said Bryan. There was no need to protest. Even I didn’t think I was in a position to take the lead at this moment. When we sat, he sighed. “Where do we go next?”

  “Back to the farmhouse,” I said. “We will see if there are any other leads.”

  “But…” He began to say something and then stopped. There was no need to tell me that we didn’t have much else. “Ok, sure. Hmm. Are you sure you’re ok?”

  “I’m fine,” my voice was gruff but low.

  “It was…something…”

  “It was quite similar to the scene I witnessed when I saw my family’s dead bodies.” I didn’t look at him. There was no need to tell him this, but I felt the urge to talk about it. Maybe if I discussed it, the images would leave me alone. “The same sense that something was wrong, the same manner in which I found the bodies…of course, and they were killed in a different way. At least their deaths were not so…gruesome.”

  His hand covered mine. Startled, I stared at our linked fingers. The brief touch kindled some strange desire within me. I didn’t want to recognize or understand it. “I’m sorry.”

  I moved my hand away. “You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s a part of our job. It’s just…this was the first dead body I saw…since…”

  There was no need for me to complete the sentence. “You want to have dinner outside?” he asked abruptly.

  The change of topic surprised me, but it was a kind of relief to talk about something else. Perhaps if I didn’t think about it, the feeling of helplessness that gripped me in its nasty talons would leave me alone. “Sure. But it’s not like a date, ok?”