Shrike (Book 2): Rampant (37 page)

Knowing who Elaine Barry is, her boyfriend, Logan Fischer, looks nothing like what I'd expect. He's not that tall, maybe 5'10, brown hair, blue eyes, dressed in holey jeans and a sweatshirt. His eyes are kind of pretty, a dark blue with thick lashes, but not really enough to make him remarkable. Watching him sit nervously on Elaine's couch, clutching and releasing his hands, studying his blunt nails, I don't see what Elaine saw in him.  His magic is weird, a dark silver, almost pewter, with no glint to it at all. I've never seen anything like it.

Maybe he's some kind of passive psychic, so his magic wouldn't be as outwardly vivid? Whatever he is, he doesn't look like a killer. They never do, though.

"Officers," he says when we take seats on the chairs opposite him.

"Inspectors, actually," Li says. I smirk.

"Sorry."

"It's not a problem," Li says magnanimously. "I'm Inspector Li, this is Inspector Maddox. We're handling this investigation."

She is good; I'll give her that. We don't normally play good cop, bad cop. It doesn't work well, not least because any moron with a television recognizes that bit. No, our strategy is a bit more complicated. First we unnerve you, then we back down a little. You know we're in charge, but maybe we're not so bad. We let you start to feel comfortable. We're young, attractive women (I am, anyway)—nonthreatening. You can talk to us. Maybe one of us starts to build a rapport with you. Then, just when you're starting to spill, we grab you by the throat.

I smile at him, too. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr… Fischer?" I glance at my notes like I don't know.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Mr. Fischer, you said you let yourself in at about 10:30," Li says. She's reminding him they spoke before. She's someone he can talk to. "But you saw her earlier, too?"

He swallows. "Yes. I met her before she had dinner with Alexa Halliday"

"Alexa Halliday, the California director of Mentors in Magic?" I ask. Halliday fronts the charitable organization's California branch—she's infamous, and also friends with my parents. I make a note.

"Yeah. They're friends, sort of. Miss Halliday is in town for that gathering in a couple of days, I guess, and she and Elaine had dinner together. I saw her before they went out, but Elaine wanted to get in a workout and stuff after their meeting, so I went home instead of waiting for her."

"And stuff?" Li asks.

He shrugs. "Yeah, I dunno—she works out with her trainer, then gets a massage sometimes afterword, or goes to get a smoothie. That stuff." He looks across at us, each in turn, his blue eyes earnest, and lays his hands flat on his knees. "Look, she didn't tell me everything. We hadn't been dating that long."

"Why did you come back this evening?" Li asks. "After her dinner, workout, and 'stuff?'"

He has the grace to look embarrassed. "She wanted to see me."

"I see," Li says coldly, making a note. "Do you know what time you left Elaine's apartment the first time?" she asks.

"Maybe about seven?"

"And she was going to work out after her dinner? That's pretty late, isn't it?"

The spasmodic shrug again. "Elaine is…" His eyes get a hint of a glisten and he looks away, clearing his throat. "Was…busy. She had a trainer. He met her after hours a lot. They'd run or go to her gym or whatever."

None too eloquent, this cheaply-dressed young man surrounded by opulence: nervous, probably. He's getting more comfortable, though, letting a little bit of emotion show. It's time to turn the heat up.

"So you're saying you left Elaine's apartment at seven." Li makes a note on her pad. "Where did you go then?"

"Home."

"Do you know why she's in a tub full of alcohol?" I ask. Sometimes a rapid subject-change startles people into talking.

Fischer blushes. "We talked about—" He breaks off, shaking his head.

I'm intrigued. "Talked about what?" I ask, my voice as gentle as I can make it.

He clears his throat. "Um, it's personal."

"This is a murder investigation, Mr. Fischer," Li says.

Fischer shifts in his chair. "We talked about…being intimate… in the tub. Another time. Joked, you know." He swallows again, his thin throat bobbing up and down. "She promised," he adds, almost in a whisper, and turns his flaming face toward the floor.

"I see," I say. It's cute: he's so embarrassed. He gives me a sheepish smile. He trusts me again. Now it's time to corner him. "So is that why she called you tonight?" I ask. I really don't think he's the killer, but it doesn't look good. "To invite you to—be intimate—in the tub?"

Fischer flushes again, this time with anger. "That's none of your business! We just talked!"

"There were some bottles by the tub," Li says. "One of them was broken, and the fingerprints were wiped off of it."

Surprised, I shoot her a look—I didn't know that. Apparently being late gets you cut out of the loop.

"So what?" Fischer says. "My fingerprints are all over this apartment—we were dating, you know. I'd probably made a drink from one of those bottles. Someone else could've wiped prints off of it." He's sweating, I notice. 

"It looks like Elaine had a blunt-force trauma to the back of her head," I tell him. "There's blood in her hair."

Fischer recoils from us. "Why would I kill Elaine? She was my girlfriend."

"There are a hundred reasons why a boyfriend might kill a girlfriend," I say. "Maybe she didn't want to get serious, and you did. Maybe she cheated on you during one of her late-night training sessions."

"Maybe you fought," Li continues. "Or maybe you did decide to 'be intimate,' but something happened. Maybe it was an accident." Her dark eyes glint, and the deep purple of her fairy magic darkens, predatory, taking over the human side.

"What?" Fischer says. His eyes crinkle in pain. "That's—why—none of that is true."

"No?" I ask.

"Of course not!" 

"You had opportunity, Mr. Fischer," Li says. "Possible motivation. Means."

"I didn't!" Fischer cries. He pauses, takes a breath. To my surprise, he looks directly at me. "I did not kill Elaine."

Taken aback, I say, "Do you have any idea who might have?"

Li kicks me. I've broken with the system and she's annoyed, but my eyes are on Fischer. His almost unremarkable eyes are surprisingly mesmerizing when turned on me in complete honesty, utter frankness. His magic shifts, like the underside of a storm cloud. No glow, still, but swirling, shifting, alive. "I don't know," he says. "She was always around someone. People loved her."

"How did her dinner with Alexa Halliday go?" I ask.

"How did it go?" he repeats, looking surprised. "I don't know. She didn't want to talk about it when she called. She just… wanted me to come over."

"Of course," Li snaps. "Who else had easy access to Elaine's apartment?"

"Well, her trainer for one." Fischer nods when we look at him. "Yeah, they met at her apartment pretty frequently. Her parents. Her friends, but she had a lot of those. I don't think she saw any of them last night—just the trainer, as far as I know."

"And what's his name?" Li asks, pen poised over her notepad.

"Mitch, I think." Fischer tilts his head, frowning. "Mitchel Sloan? I think that's his last name. He works at the All-Day Fitness by Elaine's apartment."

Li makes a brisk note, nodding. "Thank you, Mr. Fischer." She puts down the pen and fixes him with a steely glare, one with a thousand generations of Sidhe power and the entitlement of Chinese aristocracy behind it. "But I suggest you find someone who can confirm you were at home last night. And don't leave town."

I'm impressed: he manages to look unflustered in the face of Li's wrath. "I'm free to go then?" he says.

"Thank you for your cooperation." Li snorts and stays seated, scribbling on her notepad.

I stand and lead him out into the hallway. We stop in front of the elevator. In the dull light of the hallway, he looks a little clammy, but his aura is strong and he seems full of barely-contained energy. Out here, he actually looks more like a serial killer: nervous, intense but controlled. At best he looks like someone recovering from an illness. At worst he looks like someone I'd avoid on the sidewalk. "Are you feeling alright?" I ask.

"I guess. A little tired. Shocked." His smile is watery.

"That's normal." I give him an encouraging nod. If they're cooperating, it's always better to make them think you're an ally. "We'll call you if we have any more questions."

"Oh, good," he says. I chuckle. The elevator dings, and we both turn toward it. Fischer extends a foot, holding the door open. He turns to me again, clasps my arm. "I didn't kill Elaine." His blue eyes are dark, almost angry.

I don't know what to say to that, so I step back. He releases me, goes into the elevator, turns. I can feel his eyes boring into me even after the doors close.

I turn to go back to into the apartment. Li is standing now, tucking her notepad into her waistband. "It's probably him," she says. "We just need to get the autopsy and figure out his motive. I'm sure her parents will have something to say about him."

"What about Alexa Halliday?" I say. That the famous Halliday met with a murder victim mere hours before her death intrigues me. "Or the mystery trainer? We're just getting started. It's not necessarily the boyfriend."

"It's always the boyfriend," Li says.

It probably goes without saying that Li is single. 

***

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