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Scene #3
Fairy Dust-Changeling
Chapter One
I hate dead fairies. The sicko who killed this one speared her with an iron stake. That's bad enough, blood everywhere, a look of horror on the girl's face. We were about the same size, petite, long hair, fine features.
The really bad thing was what the rest of the unit couldn't see and why someone from the Paranormal unit was always called to murder scenes. I had The Sight. I saw fairies the way they really looked. The blood scattered all around the alley glowed. The worst part was the wings. They had been ripped off the girl, piece by piece. It looked as if it was done one wing at a time in bits, making the torture last as long as possible before the final act of ripping the wings off the body at their base.
My stomach churned as I looked up at Conner Ryan, the oldest homicide cop on the force and my grandfather. He was hanging in for retirement.
"Why would someone do this? It's so brutal." I hugged myself, willing my lunch to stay where it belonged and n0t end up on the street.
"That's what murder is, Ande. Have to suck it up and get used to it."
"But Pops, this is worse than usual and in broad daylight. How did he get away with it? Look at this mess. Someone should have noticed, heard something." I took deep breaths forcing the green to stay out of my face. Sweat dribbled between my shoulder blades. Fall in Texas, still way too hot and humid. Pops had shed his jacket and his dress shirt stuck to his back.
"I know you're with that special unit but don't make this into anything more than it is, a killer that we'll catch and put away before he wipes out anymore kids on the street. He's nothing out-of-the-ordinary."
"If it's not a he?"
"Could be a strong woman but I doubt it, looks more like a really mean boyfriend."
I made a face. "Come on, Pops. That's such a cliché. All pretty young girls can't be killed by their girl friends. Besides, I have a feeling there's more to this." Damn I wish Pops could see what I see so he really knew what was happening.
My grandfather moved aside for a CSI photographer and another tech picked up something and bagged it. "No more of that feeling crap, Ande. We just need straight police work not mumbo jumbo stuff. Why don't you go on back and write up your report and I'll stay to secure the site."
My temper threatened to flare and I knew better than to let that happen here. I wasn't an Irish red-head for nothing. I had the temper to go with it, which I was about to lose. "Don't dismiss me like that. This is my crime scene too and I'm not finished."
Pops backed away with his hands up. He lowered his voice. "Fine, but watch how far you push me in front of the rest of the guys. I don't want IA ,Internal Affairs on my ass for favoritism."
I walked to the other end of the scene to take in what had been done with the wings. Was there some kind of pattern other than causing pain and terror? I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and saw another fairy moving away from the scene.
She turned around and came back. Her face looked wet, tears? Usually full blood fairies didn't cry. Maybe she wasn't full blood. She saw me watching and made a quick move. She didn't run, just moved and then flowed around a corner like water. By the time I made it to the corner she'd disappeared, and I was fast. Did I just see the murderer? That didn't seem possible, besides, she couldn't have handled the iron stake without being burned. At the same time, I didn't trust fairies.
Something about that fairy reminded me of myself. Strange. Maybe it was only because she too was small, just like the dead fairy. She really shouldn't be running around alone, near Turtle Creek Park. It was iffy in daylight but late at night the entire culture changed. I smelled evil. I knew a troll lived not too far away, under the bridge at the park's edge. Other things lurked in the area too. Dark things congregated together some times. My friend Sierya said more of the creatures from the Under were showing up in the human world lately. Something had changed, and not for the good.
When I got back to the station and sat down to finish my report, Brandon Lambert was there too. He reported to Pop's in homicide and didn't seem to be any more interested in the PIU than his boss. We'd known each other since high school but had drifted apart the past couple of years when he'd gone off to school and I stuck around.
He'd come back and we started seeing each other again. Now he sat next to me at the large computer station, working on his own paperwork.
I tried to keep my face impassive as I wrote what I'd seen. I didn't succeed.
"Ande, you look like someone just killed your best friend. What's wrong?"
I
described what I'd seen, leaving out the glowing part. "The murder was horrific and I know Summers will just ignore any theory I suggest."
He shrugged. "Well, the brass put him in the Pee U for a reason you know. Incompetence has its rewards."
"Thanks, Brandon. I really appreciate that."
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