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Damn, damn, damn.
I heaved my most dramatic sigh and pointed at the box of financials from right before Gerina’s attack. “I’ll take that one. I’ll get to work on this right away, and if I spot anything obvious, I’ll walk over and let you know. If I don’t, I’ll come back for more boxes. I don’t expect I’ll find something right away, but I can dream, right?”
“Dream away,” Cecilia replied. “Ladies, put the rest in the side parlor so Kinsley can come and fetch as she needs. Put up a sign stating that parlor is closed until further notice. I’ll bring a phone for you tomorrow, Kinsley. That way, my ladies can give you a call if they notice anything.”
“That’ll work.”
Cecilia made a shooing gesture, and the other women fled the kitchen with a box each. “What you have done so far is worth two months of rent without even blinking an eye over it. You have given them some reassurance. I haven’t been able to accomplish even that. Of course, the regular cop helped with that, as he has explained how people with your skills can help others.”
I would need to do some investigating of the helpful cop. My ex would have liked the whole idea and thrown himself into the effort without hesitation. That there was someone with his same general morality out there offered me some comfort, although I worried for the man.
Erik would have dug his own grave beside mine once word of my suspected state as a necromancer had spread, determined to maintain his loyalties regardless of the cost.
Maybe one day I would convince myself that departing had been as much for his sake as for mine, and that I had done something right for the both of us.
Because I had left, we both lived.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, I escaped with the box of financials and returned to my apartment. After a fierce struggle with the lock, which had decided to stick, I entered. With the money I’d saved from rent, I’d replenish my pantry, buy some new clothes, and put enough away to complete my mandatory education to get a better job.
Well, a job.
As working while exhausted wouldn’t accomplish more than mistakes I would have to correct later, I put the box on my kitchen table, which had seen better days and had been rescued from the curb. Thanks to some elbow grease, it could handle even my weight.
A few hours of sleep would help, and then I’d make a plan and get to work.
Mysteries never solved themselves, and I doubted the culprits I searched for would turn themselves in and save me the trouble of finding them.
* * *
Saturday, April 18, 2167
The Gray Ward
Dragon Heights, Wyoming
I woke a little after three in the afternoon, which would give me one hell of a busy day if I wanted to make any progress, get groceries, go to the library, begin researching the serial killer, and make some sense of the brothel situation. To keep everything straight, I would need several journals, pens, and highlighters. I would stash several larger journals in my backpack and several smaller ones in my pocket to keep track of the little but important details.
I needed a list to track the lists of things I needed to buy or do in the upcoming hours.
Starting with the groceries would put me ahead of the game, and to play to the expectations of those around me, I went to the cheapest store in the Gray Ward. While the vegetables and meat products were questionable at best, their stock of canned goods came in frequent, far from its expiration date, and at a good price. The variety left something to be desired, but I would cope.
I always did.
Rather than flaunt that I had money, I bought a little more than normal, headed home, and dropped off my goods before heading off to my next stop, an office supply store in the White Ward.
I would draw too much attention in the Gray Ward, but nobody would pay me any mind in the White Ward. The dragons there thirsted for knowledge and assumed everyone shared their thirst.
I needed knowledge, but not in a way they would appreciate if they learned the truth of my activities.
With a heavy backpack and more worries than I cared to think about, I headed for my next destination. Of the city’s wards, the White Ward contained the most libraries, tiered based on the audience the library catered to. To keep curious dragons from poking their nose into my business, I went to the smallest of the libraries, which boasted a robust non-fiction selection and computers meant to help the less fortunate succeed at finding work or better fortunes.
Of the five computers available for public use, two were in use. To my relief, one at the end of the row was available, and I claimed it. Armed with a notebook and a pen, I went on the internet and began reading news sites dedicated to Dragon Heights. I started with recent news, and after a few minutes, I found the first of the articles reporting the death and mutilation of an iron dragon-kin seeking to begin a pilgrimage or possibly petition.
As Cedrick had mentioned pilgrims being targeted, I made a note of the date of the iron dragon-kin’s death, the key details including location and time of his murder, and the few possibilities the article presented as the suspect. The reporter proposed a jilted silver dragon-kin lover held responsibility for the slaying.
I doubted a silver dragon-kin would have any desire to murder anyone.
Silver dragons lived to fly, and little else motivated them. Unless Thameles had attempted to stop her from flying in some form or another, I doubted she had much desire to harm anyone.