Authors: Amber Hughey
They made their way down to the land, where he carefully picked his way down to the shore, over the strewn boulders, where, to her, it looked like animals could be waiting to jump out at her. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, per se, but rather what was waiting for her, in the dark. All of her years as a cop
taught her to be extra cautious about doing into dark spaces. She followed him, knowing that she wasn’t dressed for an off-trail trip, but not caring enough about that minor detail to wait.
She scurried down the rocks, much quicker than Gabriel had anticipated, and he met her standing on the rocks, offering his arm to her. She declined it, having years of experience from her previous job.
At the edge of the water, the waves of the river softly lapped at her shoes. She could feel the icy water through the rubber soles. She pointed towards the center of the river, at a pale shape in the darkness. The darkness of the bridge allowed her to focus more clearly on the light that reflected around the shadows on the water, and the pale shape that morphed into that of a body before her eyes.
“That’s a body,” she stated blankly. She swallowed and pulled the hair off her face. She felt the cold seep around her, but she ignored it. Staring at the body, she memorized as many small details as she could, knowing her former comrades would need as many of those details as she could recall.
He nodded vaguely and looked at the path between the shore and the body. There was no good path, he thought with an inward sigh, at least no path that would keep him dry, and since the person was decidedly deceased, he elected to stay on shore. He let out a huffed sigh and proceeded to call the police, alerting them to the problem.
After he placed the call, he reached out to grab Amalia, who slowly tiptoeing towards the body. She gripped him arm tightly for a moment, trying to keep her balance on the uneven, slippery rocks. She nodded when he looked at her. Gently prying her fingers off his bicep, he searched among the rocks until he saw a shiny object partially hidden under debris washed up by the moving river.
It was an ID bracelet, he realized. Like the ones they give out at hospitals. Had the body been a patient somewhere?
All of a sudden, it was bathed in a blue-tinged light. He glanced over and found that Amalia was shining her cell phone’s light on the ID.
“Just numbers,” she replied, disappointed that there wasn’t more information on the plastic tag.
“I know who that is,” Amalia said as her breath slowed, her brain forcing her back into ‘police officer mode’.
His eyebrows drew together in confusion.
Amalia stared at the body, the bloated face that blankly stared at the sky.
“Who?” he asked impatiently.
“You don’t recognize him?” she asked, confusion flitting over her face as she looked from the body to him, quickly followed by horror, then the professional mask she’d learned while being a cop.
“If I knew I wouldn’t be asking you, now would I?” he snapped, impatience turning his barritone voice harsh.
She glared at him and shook her head. “He’s missing his wings, but that’s Vince. That’s Sam’s boyfriend. What the hell is he doing in the river?”
“Shit,” Gabriel muttered. “They didn’t tell me it was this bad.”
“They? What was this bad?” Amalia demanded, staring at Vince’s body. No wings. None at all that she could see. No feathers floated on the water, and none were caught by the shore.
“The case I’m working on,” Gabriel answered slowly as he stared at the corpse.
“What the hell does Vince have to do with your case?” Amalia asked sharply.
“The missing wings?” Gabriel pointed toward the corpse, “Those were probably forcibly removed. It’s a mark of shame among the solan. It’s becoming a signature of this case.”
“Donovan,” Amalia state, flatly, feeling all the emotions pour out of her body.
“Yes,” Gabriel replied, staring at the body, wishing he could turn him over, but knowing with the police coming that it wouldn’t be such a good idea. If he’d known it was an angelus, he wouldn’t have worried about calling the police. He’d just deal with it himself. Damn.
“You’re sticking around?” she asked, looking at Gabriel from cold green eyes.
He grimaced, not enjoying the thought of staying in the cold wind, but seeing no better option. “I’m going to. You can go home. It’s wet down here, and getting colder.” Actually, he thought bitterly, it felt like snow, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to mention the ‘s’ word.
She stubbornly refused to leave until the police had retrieved the body, reminding him that she’d need to leave a statement anyway. He sighed but stopped arguing. Noticing she was shivering in the biting wind, he offered his coat. She shrugged it away, knowing her reaction wasn’t because of the biting wind but because of the adrenaline due to her seeing a corpse for the first time in over a year.
After a cursory examination, Gabriel waited patiently for the police to document every meticulous detail they could scrounge before talking to the coroner who waited for the body to be released. Then, he had to wait for them to question Amalia in extreme detail about the body, and her personal life. She must have worked with them, at some point, he realized as it dawned on him. They must still care about her.
When they were finally through getting his and Amalia’s statements, Gabriel had to convince the coroner to let them see the body before she took it away. After quite a bit of persuasion and charm, she
finally relented. Together, they stared at the naked, bloated corpse.
Tightening her jaw, Amalia stared at the body. There were ligature marks around the ankles, wrists and neck. Bruises on the face. Lips split. When they’d seen the back of Vince, Amalia hadn’t been able to stop the gasp, even knowing that Gabriel had told her how the wings had been removed. Not just removed, she told herself, but torn off. The trauma was visible. The flesh torn, bones and strands of meat hanging out. Shaking her head, she felt pity for the solan, who she knew had probably been conscious when they’d done this to him.
Gabriel looked at her sharply, but didn’t say anything as she shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand as she tried to breathe deeply and not remember Donovan. And not picture Donovan in front of her. That was the hardest.
When the coroner was able to slide the body into the ambulance, Gabriel turned to Amalia. “What was it?”
“What was what?” she replied, knowing what he was asking.
“What made you react? The whole time you had on the professional mask, and then it was gone. What made it break?”
“His back,” she started. She took a deep breath and counted to ten. “It just really reminded me of Donovan, that’s all.”
He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sky, feeling the cold breeze on his hot skin. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” she replied softly as she shoved her hands in her pockets.
“When you were put on the case, he wasn’t mentioned, was he?” Amalia asked, hunching her shoulders as she stared at the boards that made the bridge.
“No,” he replied with a sigh.
“Did you expect this?” she pressed.
“No,” he said shortly. “We should get going.”
“You have a report to write,” she said as she stepped towards him.
He stepped back, avoiding her closeness, “And more.”
She nodded thoughtfully as she watched the wary expression on his face. “I’m going to get home then. I think I need a hot bath.”
As they silently walked towards her car, the details about the victim were stuck in Amalia’s mind. There wasn’t a drop blood in the victim. No lividity, no blood at all. The victim has been tortured, Amalia. The only other thing the coroner could tell them was that he’d been in the water for just over eight hours.
As she started to climb in her car, Gabriel softly put a hand on her arm. She paused, midway in the seat.
He cocked his head and an embarrassed smile graced his face. “So, would this be an inappropriate
time to ask you for your number? So I can make sure you’re safe, of course.”
“Of course,” she murmured as she shook her head with a smile, she gave him her number and e-mail address.
It was hours later than her usual home time, but she still came in to find a happy Sheltie and a slightly perturbed cat waiting for her to settle down for the night.
Deciding a hot bath would definitely be the best way to end the evening, she started the steaming water only to have forgotten to check for a sleeping Kohl, whose favorite place was the bottom of the bathtub. As a sodden Kohl shot through the house, giving her dirty glares, she giggled as she undressed, holding the clothes at an arm’s length. She didn’t know if the smell was actually permeating her clothes and hair, but either way, she was going to slather on the vanilla sugar body wash.
Amalia had been surprised to hear from Morgan early the next day, but Morgan was interested to hear about Amalia’s escapades at the riverside. She’d curiously wondered why Amalia hadn’t gone home with the umbren, for protection, of course. Laughing, Amalia had told her cousin that she was just fine where she was, and that she’d call her after work.
When Amalia got to work that afternoon, she found an e-mail waiting for her. More than one, actually, but only one actually piqued her interest immediately.
She brushed the hair out of her eyes as she read the e-mail he'd sent. A short message, briefing her about the case he’d been assigned. She sighed as she scanned the message. With a grim determination, she read the seven names. Samantha O’Mara. Genevieve Walters. Paul Danzer. Kent Stoke. Patricia Hemly. Peg Smyth. Francesca Riley. The only one she recognized was Sam. She sighed.
There wasn’t much to go on. Genevieve was twenty-seven. Paul was thirty-nine. Kent was nineteen. Patricia and Peg were both thirty-one. Francesca was twenty-three. And Sam, she thought to herself. Sam was only twenty-four. So what connected them? She kept rolling that thought around her brain as she read and reread the names and ages.
She mutely added Vince’s name to the list. She just knew that he was connected to this, just as certainly as Gabriel knew. His death couldn’t be coincidental, wasn’t unrelated, according to Gabriel. Her thoughts flashed back to the pale, bloated face. The solan’s eyes gone, strings of rotting flesh on his bloated abdomen. The smell. Amalia shook her head, trying to shake the memory out of her head. She had a feeling in her gut, she thought to herself, and her gut wasn’t often wrong.
She started to search through the databases. She was able to pull up a few articles on Kent, for his sports, Patricia for her work with horses, and Paul for his work as a marine, but that was it. Nothing else, she thought to herself, frustrated. No article about the disappearance in any of the newspapers that she could search. Not too much about the renati either, she thought to herself. A few pieces written by journalists who had clearly been told exactly what to write. One piece was a complete conspiracy theory piece that made her laugh as she read it, but without a single grain of truth.
Disappointed, she wrote a note to herself about the findings, and went back to work.
She kept hoping that Gabriel would call so she could get more details. Although, she surmised, just hearing his voice would be nice. Talking about the missing people wasn’t necessary. Although, finding out when they disappeared would really help. Where
they'd disappeared from would be nice. Anything connecting them, even something minor, she thought to herself, like if they lived in the same town, went to the same school…anything. She carefully searched through other sources and search engines as she thought of them.
She sighed as she recognized the pull of the job. The last time she’d felt this pull was before Donovan had died. Not being able to solve his death had made that pull disappear completely…Sure, she reasoned, she wasn’t officially on the case, but it couldn’t hurt for her to use her resources. Maybe she’d find something new out. Gabriel hadn’t sent her that list of names just for shits and giggles, after all. Speaking of Gabriel, she thought.
She ran a quick Google search for Gabriel, and was disappointed to find only a few mentions of him, mostly on business review sites, regarding his talented work as an Enforcer. She remembered their conversation at the wedding about his day job. They hadn’t gone into much detail about him, so she’d been left wondering how good of an Enforcer he could be in the human world with very visible wings making him stand out in a crowd of humans. Apparently he was pretty good, according to the reviews. Impressive, she thought.
Regrettably for her, he didn't call throughout her shift. Frustrated, she went back home after a long and uneventful day at the desk.
Letting Lucy out, she glanced outside into the darkened backyard. Maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks, but she could have sworn she saw a shadow moving in the darkness by the trees. She called for Lucy, and the little brown dog raced inside, barking. Amalia tried to turn the outdoor light on, but found that the bulb was burnt out.
"Damn," she said to herself, mentally reminding herself to replace it for the fourth time this week. She'd known about the light for a couple of weeks and kept forgetting to buy a new one. She glanced one more time into the backyard before shutting and locking the door. For good measure, she also shut and locked the pet door. Lucy would have to get her up to go outside, but she'd feel safer knowing no one could squeeze through the small door.