His adorable little-boy grin spread.
After I claimed the necessary pages from the Codex copy and tucked them into the overnight bag, I asked Johnny, “When do you want to leave?”
He checked the clock. “We have some time, but I can’t wait to do the test drive.”
While shaking my head at his glee, I hugged Nana good-bye then rehefted the bag onto my shoulder and headed for the hallway. “Then let’s go. You can take the long way.”
We passed the doorway to the living room. Ares was on the couch, paws on the back, tail wagging vigorously. I was about to scold him again, when the low growl in his throat made me stop. Beyond him, I saw a dark Chevy Impala in the driveway. A shadow appeared on the glass of the door, and someone knocked.
“Let me,” Maxine said.
“I can still answer my own door.” Without waiting for her I jerked the door open.
Two men stood on my porch.
One was broad-shouldered with a near-ebony complexion. His head was shaved but he had a trim goatee surrounding unsmiling lips. I was willing to bet even this guy’s baby pictures were stern. Combine his facial expression, and the methodical assessment in his dark eyes, with the serious black suit, and I knew he wasn’t here on a whim.
The other man was pallid, and was decidedly not broad-shouldered. He had pale weasel-like eyes that remained fixed on me. Ivory’s no-nonsense suit screamed “government official” just as much as Ebony’s.
I didn’t open the screen door. Instead, I pointed to the front window. “The building permits are posted.”
Ebony reached into his pocket and produced a badge and an ID. “I’m Special Agent Damian Brent, this is Special Agent Clive Napier. I have some questions for you, Ms. Alcmedi, if you have a moment.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Special Agent Damian Brent pointed at my overnight bag. “Going somewhere?”
“I was going across town for a few hours.”
His gaze shifted to focus past me. “Do you have a permit for that gun?”
“I do,” Maxine said.
I’d jerked the door open and, as usual, she had her gun out. I could have at least checked before opening the door, or waited until she’d retreated out of sight.
“Concealed carry?” Agent Brent asked.
“Yes. May I see your identification?”
I stepped out of the way so she could move forward. Her gun was lowered but still available as she drew closer to the screen door to make her inspection of his credentials. A moment later she said, “I’ve never heard of the S-S-T-I-X.” She spelled it out, letter by letter. “What’s it stand for?”
“I’m not surprised you haven’t heard. SSTIX”—he pronounced it like the famed river Styx of Greek myth—“is a newer and little-known task force.”
We all waited; he didn’t go on. “And the acronym stands for what?” Maxine pressed.
“Specialized Squadron for Tactical Investigation of Xenocrime.”
“Xenocrime?”
“As in crimes committed by those members of society deemed … strange.”
“Nonsters,” Clive added with a twisted smile.
It had been only a matter of time until nonhumans had a task force devoted to their crimes. This should have been a good thing, as law enforcement officers increasingly had refused to investigate crimes involving vampires and wærewolves for years. Insurance companies and governmental agencies had lost numerous lawsuits brought by families of slain or disabled police officers whose attorneys had cited circumstances “far superior to normal risk.” Based on Agent Brent’s vibe, I was betting the federal government had found a solution … and that it might not be all good.
Maxine removed the cell phone from her pocket. She still hadn’t holstered her weapon. “With so many freaks able to make realistic documents, you’ll of course understand if we verify your credentials before talking to you?”
“Of course, but it’ll take you longer to make that verification than it will for Ms. Alcmedi to answer a few simple questions.”
“The number?” Maxine insisted. She dialed as Agent Brent rattled off a series of numbers.
I stepped forward. “What do you want?”
“I have questions about the death of Xerxadrea Veilleux and the break-in at the Botanical Gardens.”
A pang of loss resonated in my chest at the mention of her name. Keeping my expression blank, I said, “Xerxadrea was a friend. I mourn her loss. Someone told me the authorities thought she lost control of her broom and crashed.”
“May we come in?”
“Not until she verifies you.”
He took a small notepad from his pocket and flipped it open. “The alarms went off at the Botanical Gardens at eleven-twenty-six P.M.” He tapped the notebook. “Local television stations broadcast live coverage of you from eight-twelve P.M. until eight-thirty-eight P.M. A ceremony of some kind, and you wore a red hooded cape.”
He took a breath, so I said, “I’m not sure of the exact times, but I have to assume you’ve done your homework and that you are correct.” Nothing about my installation as Menessos’s court witch was criminal. Although I would arrest Menessos for making me wear those boots if I could.
“I also have sources that say at approximately nine P.M. you were seen leaving the area of the vampires’ haven with a man on a motorcycle. The motorcyclist drove on the sidewalk for a short distance.”
That was illegal. At least for the “motorcyclist,” Johnny. My mouth stayed shut.
“So where did you go when you left in such haste, Ms. Alcmedi?”
“To see me,” Maxine said, shutting the phone and tucking it away.
“And you are?”
“Maxine Simmons.”
He asked for her address and wrote in the little book as she answered. “May we come in now?”
“No,” Maxine said firmly.
“How long did you two ladies stay together?”
Maxine shrugged as if unsure. “I don’t remember. Do you?”
In truth, I’d gone with Johnny to The Dirty Dog, then flew on the broom to the gardens. After the encounter with the fairies that left Xerxadrea dead, I left with Menessos. We revisited The Dirty Dog, then continued on to the haven. Security cameras might have picked up the cab arriving at the haven downtown, so I didn’t dare lie about that. “Until Menessos came for me. We arrived back at the haven at …” Menessos had given me the satellite phone then. I was afraid to call Nana because it was after one in the morning. “It was just after one A.M., I believe.”
“Nine until one.” As he wrote that down, Agent Brent asked, “So what were you doing during those four hours, Ms. Alcmedi?”
“Playing cards with me,” Maxine said. “Uno. And staying clear of vampires. If you’ve seen the TV footage then you’ll recall there was an attempted murder at the ceremony.”
Agent Brent pursed his lips, a sign that he wasn’t convinced.
“We weren’t certain who the target was, but the Regional Lord thought it best she be elsewhere,” Maxine replied. “What’s any of this got to do with the Eldrenne’s death?”
I made a mental note to remember that Maxine was a convincing liar.
Agent Brent continued. “Eyewitness police reports say that at approximately eleven-forty P.M., someone wearing a red hooded cape was observed flying away from the Botanical Gardens on a broom.” His bland tone supported the disgust he was conveying to me. “You were there, Ms. Alcmedi. I want to know why the deceased lost control of her broom.”
It was Menessos’s second-in-command, Goliath, the police had seen. I had given Goliath my cape to wear in hopes it would draw off the fairies that were after us. Menessos told him to wait until the last moment to leave, to buy us time to make our escape on foot.
“Enough of this,” Johnny stepped up. “Do you have a warrant?”
“I do not. Do you have a motorcycle?” He quickly assessed Johnny.
“If you don’t have a warrant, then you’re done here.”
Johnny’s voice exuded an unmistakable threat. The agents, after glaring briefly through the screen door, left. Johnny shut the door when they had exited the porch.