Salt's office had a view of the river and half of Floodmouth. Paneling with sound muffling spells had been installed on the interior walls in front of the glass. Hers was the only office on the floor that was truly private once the door was closed. Diplomas, awards, and photos of her shaking hands with people even I recognized were scattered over the paneling. She had a masters in criminology, I noted. I wondered what the subject of her thesis had been. If I still had a job at the end of the week, I'd look it up.
When we entered, she was seated behind her desk reviewing a stack of papers. The carefully tailored red suit jacket almost hid the broadness of her shoulders. "Close the door," she said. Her voice was pleasant, but she didn't look up and she didn't invite us to sit. "So. That was an interesting memo you two sent out this morning." Venom dripped from every word.
Silence seemed the best way to get through this, so I kept my mouth shut. Simon had obviously reached the same conclusion.
On the bright side, if I didn't get fired, this would definitely get me sent back down to my safe and boring job in the basement as a magical evidence technician.
Finally looking up, Salt growled, "Would you like to tell me why vital evidence in the case wasn't logged last Friday when it was recovered?"
No yelling yet. Maybe we'd get through this all with polite conversation.
Simon opened his mouth, but Salt cut him off. "Bowers, you had to be carted away before you hurt someone, so I can't imagine this was your call."
In the silence as Salt stared at me, I could hear the ticking of the building's air conditioning. Someone had once told me that giving some sort of explanation, even one that made no sense at all, gave managers a face-saving path for any problem. Maybe that would work here.
I reworded my sentence three times before I opened my mouth. "I was concerned about the saltwater flooding in the evidence room, and I needed to compare the spell on the bracelet with some reference texts at the university's library, so I kept it in my possession during the weekend."
"Saltwater flooding," she repeated slowly.
"Like what happened to the evidence we collected the day before," I explained.
She held my gaze for three long breaths while I tried my best to look innocent. Then she shook her head in disbelief. "Pull that stunt again, and I'll have you up on obstruction charges, understand?" Before I could respond, she kept speaking. "One way or another, the two of you have opened up the investigation. What's your next line of inquiry?"
It was like bracing for a category five hurricane only to see it veer off at the last moment. My brain glitched, but luckily, Simon had an answer. "We'd like to concentrate on Evan Maguire, to confirm he really was the owner of the bracelet and determine its intended purpose."
Salt regarded him for a full three seconds, and then nodded once. "Fine. I'll have your assignments reflect that. The task force morning briefing is in…" She checked the time. "Fifteen minutes. Don't be late. Now get out of my office."
I didn't need to be told twice. We were almost out the door when she yelled, "And if you pull that crap again, I'll have you collecting evidence in the sewers for the next two years!" She hadn't yelled her threats until everyone else could hear. That was interesting.
"Better watch out, Bowers," said a blond vampire man leaning against another agent's open door frame. "At this rate, you won't get invited to the mayor's Accords Day party."
Simon didn't slow. "Already got my invitation in the mail, Lampinen. But if you're free that evening, I heard they were looking to hire extra security for the door."
The woman inside the office laughed. Red spots showed on Agent Lampinen's cheeks, but he merely turned and resumed his conversation.
When we were back in Simon's office with the door closed, I craned my head so I could see down the hallway. "I don't think Agent Lampinen likes you very much."
"He had a couple cases go south recently, and I broke his top closer streak last quarter. He'll get over it, eventually." Simon looked at his pristine desk as if searching for something. "Well. Now we're on the task force. I'll admit, I didn't see that coming."
"She was supposed to realize I'm not meant to be anywhere but the basement." I flopped into the extra chair. "It can't be her, can it? If she's the one trying to screw up the investigation, she would want us as far away from this as possible."
"Unless she wants to keep an eye on us."
Simon's completely reasonable response made me want to growl at him. What he was really saying was that the targets wouldn't be off our backs until this case was over.
If that wasn't an incentive to find out what was going on, I didn't know what was.
The task force briefing was mercifully short, which was good, considering nearly everyone who worked in The Vault was crammed into the conference room. The wall screen showing the video link to Seattle showed a similarly crowded room — this was the most important FBME case on the west coast and they were throwing every resource at it.
Salt took her seat five seconds before the meeting was scheduled to begin. "Is the audio working? Let's get started. We have some new info." Despite the crush of people, she glanced directly at the corner where Simon and I stood before looking down at her tablet again.
She went through the highlights of what Simon and I had found, though I didn't think anyone needed the summary. They'd either been copied on the email or had been told to go read it by their direct supervisors.
Nothing was said about evidence disappearing or being damaged.
Salt stuck to her agenda, which I appreciated after many years of rambling departmental meetings. When assignments were handed out, the humans on the Seattle team were charged with going back through their case files with a specific eye for any jewelry or other spelled items that might have been taken into evidence by the police. "Even if that doesn't get us any closer to an answer, we need to get those things out of circulation — or the next vampire to set foot in the police evidence lockup might be affected." In the meantime, the vampires would go back and talk to friends and relatives of the vampire victims, looking for the source of the spelled jewelry.
The Floodmouth agents were allocated in roughly the same fashion. "Lampinen, Kim, Mann, and Wong, talk to everyone Mohammed Murphy knew. Find out where he was getting those things. Bowers, you and Perkins follow up on Evan Maguire to confirm the bracelet really was his and he got it from Mohammed Murphy."
I tried not to squirm as everyone in the room turned to see who "Perkins" was. Luckily, Salt plowed forward and the moment passed.
"Everyone else, I need you looking over the case notes. This is a big break, but what else got missed? Split up the files; make sure there's overlap. I want summaries and a list of people we need to interview or re-interview before the end of the day. Any questions?" She waited exactly three seconds before nodding. "Thank you." And then the meeting was over and everyone scattered to their tasks.
Since Simon and I didn't have gear to carry, we walked the twelve blocks to Booksellers Row to talk to people who'd known our vampire victim, Evan. But first, Simon insisted on taking a detour three blocks north to a gun range. "If, for no other reason," he said drily, "than to keep you, an employee of the FBME, from asking a random civilian how to unload a gun in the future." The range was a dark, low-ceilinged hall with three lanes and a very bored proprietor who relaxed and went back to watching a movie after Simon showed his badge.
"I could have just tossed it in my duffle bag and hoped for the best," I said as I picked out ear protection. "And she was hardly a random civilian."
"Nevertheless." He checked out a bag of dummy rounds with orange tips and spent ten minutes walking me through basic gun safety and how to unload and load his Glock. Then he had me load the gun with live ammunition and I got to shoot at a paper target with the outline of a man. Even with the ear protection, the bang as I pulled the trigger made me flinch.
When I'd fired all seventeen rounds, Simon had me eject the magazine and latch the slide back before stepping away. Then he brought the target forward so we could examine it. Though I'd been aiming at center mass, I'd missed the paper completely with fifteen rounds, hit the target's hairdo once, and tagged the very edge of the shoulder with my last shot.
Simon cleared his throat. "It's probably good that I didn't know what a terrible shot you were when I gave you my weapon on Friday."
"Didn't need a gun to take out that pterodactyl, though, did I?"
"Were your eyes actually open during any part of this?"
"Maybe your gun is just broken. Did you ever think about that?"
He shook his head, clipped on another target, and loaded his gun. His shots rang out at steady intervals, and when he was done, only one hadn't hit the center ring. He reloaded his gun, secured it in his holster, and then held up my target. "We'll work on it. Do you want to keep this as a souvenir?"
"Can't the next person just reuse it? They might as well save the paper."
Simon wiped a hand over his face. "Promise me you won't tell anyone I taught you to shoot. I don't think my reputation can take the hit."
I rattled the target. "You really think I'm going to brag about this?"
"I've given up trying to predict what you'll do." But he said it in a way that sounded amused and not irritated, so I decided it was a good thing on the whole.
After we picked up the casings and returned the dummy bullets, we went back outside to fresh air that smelled of river water and stale popcorn instead of gunpowder and oil.
Dodging around a toddler who had plopped down in the middle of the crowded sidewalk to remove her shoes, I said, "Maybe we should show that target to Salt. She can assign you a partner who can have your back while I stay in the basement."
"We'll be fine." Simon sidestepped to avoid a tiny sneaker hurled by the child. "Let's have a quick look at Evan's shop and then talk to the employees nearby. Someone must have spoken to him regularly."
That clearly hadn't been the neighbors on either side of his apartment, since they had warded — or tried to ward — their rooms against him. Thinking of that reminded me of something. "You know who I want to talk to? The woman who lived next to him in number four."
"The one who told you a female vampire from the FBME visited Evan on Friday morning?"
"Yeah. I never asked her to describe the woman. Salt's pretty distinctive." If we could get a description that proved it wasn't Salt, we could tell her all our suspicions.
Simon nodded. "Okay, we'll start at Evan's apartment, talk to the neighbors, and then go to his shop afterward."
I smiled. "I can't wait for Evan's neighbor to see you."