Anthony Francis - Blood Rock

“Oh, hell, we’ve got one who thinks she can be helpful,” McGough said, putting his hand to his to his brow. “Rand, get your pet witch and her pet cat out of my crime scene-”

“Now just a minute,” I began hotly. “You can’t just-”

“He can’t, but I can,” Rand said. “It’s my crime scene now.” McGough twitched and frowned, looking less like Mr. Wizard and more like an angry garden gnome, and Rand just raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to be a dick about this?”

McGough raised his little hands. “No, no, Homicide gets first crack at a body.”

“Thank you. I’ve called ident, but the Black Hats obviously can have the scene when the coroner pronounces,” Rand said. “Look, Dakota, seriously, McGough’s not trying to be a dick, we just need to get you physically off the crime scene. If you could wait by the car-”

“ Not until he apologizes.”

“What, about the pet witch crack?” McGough said, laughing. “Look, babe, if your skin’s that thin you shouldn’t have scribbled all over it-”

“To Cinnamon,” I said coldly.

McGough looked down at my daughter. “Hey, little lady,” he said, a little of the kindly wizard creeping back into his features. “Sorry I called you a cat-”

“I am a cat,” Cinnamon said, hissing. “but don’t be calling me a pet. ”

McGough stared blankly at her a moment, then forced the twinkle back into his eyes. “Sorry, little lady,” he said, “I was just kidding around-”

Cinnamon smiled, then suddenly barked, “Fucking toad-”

“Cinnamon!” I said.

“What?” she said, looking away. “See how he likes bein’ called a name.”

McGough straightened. “Rand,” he said. “I ain’t trying to tell you your job, but clear the site-and take some separate statements before they’re completely cross-contaminated.”

“I know, I know,” Rand said, running his hand over his bald head. “I’ll take care of it. You get on the warrant for me. I don’t want this fucked up, not for any reason-”

“Why do you need a warrant?” I said, as Rand began herding us away from our improvised tent and the foul black smoke billowing out of it. “We all saw-”

“ That was a public safety operation. This is a crime scene,” Rand said. “Technically we could get by on the permission of Oakland Cemetery-”

“What aren’t you tellin’ us?” Cinnamon said, stopping so suddenly I ran into her.

“Cinnamon, Dakota,” Rand said, motioning to a sandy-haired female officer. “I’m… going to need to split you two up for a minute. Just long enough to take the statements.”

“Fuck that-” I began, then put my hand to my head. “Let me guess, it’s-”

“Just standard procedure,” Rand finished for me, staring at me and Cinnamon cautiously. Then he grinned. “You’re not going to be a pain about this, are you, Kotie?”

“No, we’ve been around the block,” I said. The female officer smiled at us, through a dozen little white tape bandages on her face, and I nodded at Cinnamon to go with her.

Rand walked over to his cruiser, sat down on the hood, and motioned for me to join him. I did, and for a few minutes we just watched the swarm of police activity. I folded my arms over my chest: I was still trembling with adrenaline and the crisp air felt good against my hot skin.

After a few moments, instead of working the case, Rand surprised me by touching a sore spot. “Look, Kotie… you are going to see your Dad, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I snapped. “This Saturday, in fact.” Then I softened. “Look, I know Dad and I don’t get along… but you’re right. He deserves to meet his granddaughter.”

“Yeah,” Rand said, and then fell silent.

Instinctively, I looked for and found Cinnamon, talking with Officer Lee next to a distant grave. But ultimately my eyes were drawn back to that horrible smoke, now just trailing wisps. Revenance was gone, burned up before our eyes, and I couldn’t believe it. “We saw it. You really need to go through all this?” I asked sadly. “A warrant, separating the witnesses-”

“Absolutely,” Rand said grimly. “A robber opened up on your Dad and me in a crowded store, but the evidence-spent casings, slugs, even the gun with prints-got thrown out because we didn’t get the shopkeeper’s permission to search. Another case went sour when two witnesses convinced each other a house’s blinds were up when the cruiser’s camera showed them down.”

“And them?” I said, motioning to the officers milling about. “Aren’t they witnesses too?”

Rand looked up sharply, seeing McGough yelling at an officer who had peeked under the tarp. “This is a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have been here. He shouldn’t have been here-”

“Who is the little toad?”

“Head of Magical Crimes Investigation, the Black Hats,” Rand said, still staring. “Homicide normally calls them after whatever’s gone down.”

“Come to think of it, Revy wasn’t-” I began, then stopped. I didn’t want to say Revy wasn’t already dead out loud; my mind hadn’t wrapped around that yet. But my question remained: “So… why was Homicide here?”

“To get you,” Rand said simply, and I leaned back to stare at him. “You attracted a lot of attention with your little stunt at the Masquerade a couple of months back, and I owe McGough a favor, so.. . when he couldn’t handle this, he called me, and I called you.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Now I know how a marker feels-called in.”

“I’m sorry,” Rand said. “If I’d known that fang… that Revenance wasn’t going to make it, I wouldn’t have called you. This is why McGough suddenly turned into a dick. Having someone with magical training at the scene of a magical crime creates a horrible mess.”

“Why?” I asked. “Seems like you’d want the knowledge-”

“If we ever do catch the guy,” Rand said grimly, “his lawyer will argue you did it.”

“ What? ” I said. “ Me? How? You called me after it was already started-”

“People don’t understand magic,” Rand said. “ Anything sounds plausible. If they can’t pin it on you, they’ll try McGough next, and he couldn’t even do a card trick-”

“The largest School of Magic in North America is five miles from here,” I said. “Emory University-a billion dollar endowment, my alma mater? Maybe you’ve heard of it? There are plenty of expert witnesses you can get who can explain magic.”

“Not to a jury,” Rand said. “Not so they’d understand. And defense lawyers know it. And the only thing that scares juries more than a wizard on the loose is a cop with a wand.”

I sighed. I just wanted to create art, to fill the finest canvases on Earth with marks of beauty. Ours is a great world, full of magic and wonders, and yet there I sat, mourning a friend, my skin still tingling with stray mana from the spell that had killed him.

“Why,” I asked, “do people have to go fuck everything up?”

And then McGough was yelling at Horscht, who was… holding a spray can.

“Oh, hell,” Rand said, rising-and I followed. “This is why we clear first responders-”

“What do you mean, put it down?” Horscht said, jerking the can back from McGough protectively, making the little gnome even madder. “This, this is evidence-”

“But where did you get it?” McGough barked. “Did you take a picture? Did you make some notes? Did you bother to use a glove or a baggie before getting your stupid paws on it-”

“No, I didn’t have one,” Horscht said, jerking it back, but I noticed he was holding it with a piece of paper so his fingerprints wouldn’t get on it. “And you don’t either. I came to get an evidence bag. This is important. He had to use this to spray the tag-”