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“Get Dr. Wilheimer to bring out the phone you fine folks found while we continue our investigation. With this much dust, you aren’t getting much in the way of evidence out of this room—and it’s not the place we need the evidence from.”
“While you present a good point, still. There could have been evidence.”
“In huge piles of dust a vic disturbed busting out of the place?” The chief snorted. “I can handle the commissioner if he gets upset with me. Just blame me, and I’ll deal with it. Bring the phone outside and make certain Dr. Wilheimer knows that it’s probably the property of a vic and that she’s getting it back.”
“Roger.”
Once the captains had climbed through the window, I walked to the tree, pointed out the containers of mercury hanging from the walls, and admitted I had no idea which way I’d gone because I’d followed the sirens and lights. Chief Hawthorne pointed in the right direction, and I was able to retrace my steps for the most part.
To my dismay, I’d gone almost an entire mile after escaping the mansion.
“Can you even see lights or hear sirens from a mile away?” I asked, unable to keep my unhappiness out of my tone.
“You were about to shift for the first time, so you had heightened senses. That’s normal,” the chief assured me. “What do you think, boys?”
The captains eyed me and exchanged glances. With a long, slow sigh, Captain Langley said, “We’re going to be dealing with more jurisdiction issues than I care about. If you toss it over to one of the Millson boys, between the lot of them, we can make the jurisdiction issues their problem rather than our problem. We’ve got bodies from every ward in Dragon Heights, and while we have the primary scene of the crime, everything originated elsewhere. If we call dibs on her resume and rope her in on working on behalf of the Fringe, we can smooth a lot of those issues out. The commissioner will go for it; he’s the one who wants her assets on our team. There’s personal involvement from top to bottom, and the FBI doesn’t want anything to do with this case because it’s either legal brothel workers or known criminals as the vics. And no offense meant to you, Kinsley, but you’re the only vic so far who doesn’t have a criminal record or a history of working the brothels. The FBI was crabby over a former cop having gotten dragged into this mess, but otherwise? They don’t care.”
I could understand that; the FBI tended to go to bat for humanity. Dragons could—and did—take care of their own law enforcement. As long as the problems stayed within the limits of Dragon Heights, which included the Fringe, I suspected the FBI only cared when fiscal crimes were involved. “What if a regular human had been involved?”
“We’d be dealing with the FBI making a mess of our investigation,” Chief Hawthorne admitted. “Let’s just say we’re relieved that’s not the case. But since brothel work is legal in Dragon Heights, any humans involved fall under our jurisdiction. But most brothel workers here are dragon-kin within six generations, which removes their qualifications as human for the FBI’s purposes.”
I wondered if the mercury dragons had known that and worked those lines, understanding they could possibly get away with murder due to the FBI refusing to become involved. I considered the chief through narrowed eyes. “Do these mercury dragons understand that?”
The chief and the three captains heaved sighs, warning me there was likely a canyon-sized gap in law enforcement in the area.
After a long and rather uncomfortable silence, Chief Langley nodded. “Dragon Heights is responsible for its laws and law enforcement, and the FBI only comes in for very specific issues.”
“Fiscal crimes?” I guessed.
“Only of a certain level, but yes. Murders that fall outside of Dragon Heights' jurisdiction are also handled by the FBI. But the permanent residents here know it—and they know the limits. Federal law is not kind to dragons who break laws beyond the Fringe. So, yes. They would know the limitations quite well. And they would have picked their victims with care. What we don’t know is what the mercury dragons wanted with these bodies—nor do we know what happened to the missing women we now believe are associated with this case. That’s what we’d like you to help with.”
The lax nature of my questioning began to make sense. By wanting me to work on the team, treating me as an equal rather than a standard victim would change the tone of the relationship—and make me more inclined to work with them. As I already had promised to help, I would. But I would have to be up front about it. “I’ve already told some people I would be poking my nose into this matter independently.”
“That’s fine. Private investigators have the right to do that. That level of disclosure is fine; the restrictions are simple. Anything you give to them needs to also be given to us.”
“I’ll make sure they know I’m working with you about this as well.”
“We’ll get along just fine, Kinsley. I’ll take you to the station and get you set up to work with us. That way, we can try to make sense of what these dragons were doing and why.” The chief heaved a sigh, staring in the direction of the mansion. “Will we ever learn the truth? I really don’t know. I worry the truth went to the grave with Madam Merorie, but we will do what we can to secure justice and find out more about the victims and if there might be living bodies waiting to be found.”
Well, that would bother me for a while. “I’ll do my best to help you get to the bottom of this.”
“As shall we.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
“I love Monster.”
Thursday, April 30, 2167
The Gray Ward
Dragon Heights, Wyoming
Garnet whined and cried upon my return to my apartment, and I consoled her the best I could. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take you with me, baby. They’re still gathering evidence at that nasty mansion, and it’s unsafe for people and carbunclo alike.” So Tourmaline wouldn’t feel left out, I sought him out, petted his breast, and said, “We’ll go on a little trip so you can taste some new flowers and have a good time outside, all right?”
While it took a few minutes, I managed to convince the pair that the world wasn’t ending.
That left me with the problem of my parents. They sulked in my kitchen, refusing to look me in the eyes.