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Later that night, she mulled over the royal red sash of the Caretakers at the crime scene. She sat at the bar while she watched her friend close for the night. Trixie was the only other person besides her family in Texas to know about her true form. It happened at a time when loneliness assaulted her senses. Being a rookie and so new to living was taking a toll on her, and her secret slipped to the one person she could talk to: Trixie.
Her friend never revealed her confidence, and Lyra even took her to Paladin once with the King’s permission. At this point, the cocktail that Trixie made wasn’t bringing her the same joy in taste. Instead, she stared into the pink liquid as if searching for answers.
“You’re supposed to drink that.” Trixie came back behind the bar. Her curly, short hair had the front dyed hot pink. She was mixed race just like Lyra except there wasn’t a dragon living within her body as well. “It’s my new creation. I call it a pink lemonade fizz.”
“I like the taste,” Lyra answered. “I taste sours, vermouth, gin, pink lemonade, and simple syrup.”
“I hate that sense of smell and taste you have.”
“Hey, I could tell that guy was lying to you about not being married, so don’t knock the dragon senses.” Lyra took another sip of her drink.
Trixie raised her shot glass. “Touché. The fact you could smell a hint of his wife’s perfume saved me misery upon misery. Now what got you in that dragon head of yours?”
Lyra explained what they found at the crime scene, knowing that whatever she told her friend would be kept in confidence. Expressing her fear and anxiety about the caretakers and the thought of them trying to prey on humans again made the situation all too real.
Trixie leaned her elbows on the bar. “So, did you get a scent off the sash?”
Lyra shook her head. “Nothing, not even detergent or a scent of home.”
“Could it have been planted to throw a curve ball at you?” Trixie asked.
“No one knows about my second nature, and I would sense another like me in the vicinity.” Lyra sighed.
“Your asshole fiancée could be trying to fuck with your life.” Trixie went back to her task of turning off lights behind the glass of the wall full of alcohol bottles.
“I’d have scented him straight off and possibly shot him.” Lyra stood and began putting stools on the top of tables. “Still, it’s a possibility I have to look into. He could have a human helping him try to disrupt my life. It makes no sense telling my uncle or the Paladin court until I have something more definite.”
“You gonna tell Everett?” Trixie prodded.
Lyra looked at her and shrugged helplessly. “What exactly? Hey Ev, guess what? I’m a dragon shifter, and there was a huge war no human ever heard of, but these caretakers decided to work with the bad guys. Oh, and I found one of their sashes at our crime scene.”
Trixie threw a wash rag at her. “Yeah, something like that. You’ve been partners for over four years, and I think you can trust him.”
“Maybe,” Lyra murmured. The thought terrified her. “I’ve had to lie to him so much... And he is big on honesty, especially after how much his mother screwed him up.”
“All the more reason to tell him now,” Trixie explained. “Trust me, if these caretakers are involved there is no way you can hide it if it affects the case.”
“Hawke would make the whole thing go away, but Everett would sniff out a cover up so damn quick...” Lyra made a frustrated sound. “Bless it, nothing can ever be easy, could it?”
“That’s this life and living thing we’re doing.” Trixie smiled gently. “Hey, if he doesn’t believe you, you can always play if off and tell him he’s crazy or was hallucinating.”
Lyra threw the wash rag back at her friend. “Ha-ha, very funny.”
“So, I’m coming home with you tonight. I want to use your pool and sauna,” Trixie announced.
“You only like me for me stuff,” Lyra teased. “If you’re swimming, I am too. We can mix margaritas and order pizza...”
The conversation was halted abruptly when a loud sound of splintering wood and shattered glass cut them off. Trixie screamed while Lyra went instantly on the defensive when two men came in with weapons.
“We ain’t here to hurt no one, we just want the cash,” the first gunman said.
“Maybe a little something else,” the second one gave a little giggle. “Two pretty women...”
He didn’t get a chance to finish. With or without a gun, Lyra wasn’t letting it go down like that. The closest thing to her hand was a chair that she had put on a lower table only a moment before. With quick reflexes, she threw it in the direction of the men with such force it made the first assailant scream when it his arm. The gun fired before he dropped it, and Lyra caught sight of Trixie ducking behind the bar. His friend swung around, firing his gun in her direction and Lyra felt the bullet hit her shoulder.
She grunted in pain, and the dragon within her screamed in rage. She caught the injured man’s hand and deftly swung it high behind his back, making him cry out in pain. She then shoved him toward his partner. They hit, together and fumbled a bit. The first attacker came at her again, she met him with a high kick to the side of the head. The other man swung, and she caught his arm and tugged. It brought his shoulder down close to the ground. She punched him so hard he crumpled to the floor. It all seemed to go by in a flash, but in the end, Trixie was safe.
“Holy fuck.” Trixie rushed out from behind the bar. “Lyra, you got shot!”
She blew out a breath. “I’ll be okay. I can feel my body expelling the metal already. I have to change my shirt and hide the wound before the police gets here. Call it in; give them my badge number tell them a cop is on scene.”
“Don’t you need a hospital?” Trixie asked with worry in her voice.
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. We heal quick. It nicked the bone and that will take a little while longer to heal. Call it in.”
“I’ve got an extra shirt and a medical kit in the office.” Trixie glanced at the men. “Am I safe with them?”
Lyra gave her a wicked smile. “Trust me, they’re not moving.”
She moved toward the back and took her shirt off just as the bullet slipped from her shoulder. She looked at the wound and pressed it with a small wince, knowing that the muscle was healing already. In order to prevent seepage, she cleaned the wound with peroxide and taped a small bandage over her shoulder. Lyra put on Trixie’s t-shirt and then a zip-up sweatshirt that was thrown over the office chair. By the time she walked back to into the bar area, she heard the sirens and Trixie had taken both guns, putting them on the table away from the robbers in case they came to.
“You didn’t touch these with your bare hand, did you?” Lyra asked.
Trixie rolled her eyes. “Give me some credit.”
“I never got shot. They are crazy if they say I was,” Lyra said.
“Mum’s the word.” Trixie made a locking motion at her mouth.
The police rushed in with guns drawn but Lyra showed them her badge and the man was already on the ground. The next step was to take her and Trixie’s statements.
“They may need medics, guys. I think one broke his arm when he went down,” Lyra said to the patrolman she knew. “Jess, the guns are over here on the table. You will find their prints all over it.”
“Only you, Temple, would take down two armed men in a bar,” she said dryly. “You sure you’re okay?”
Lyra nodded. “Just peachy... and pissed off they thought this was the bar to break into.”
“These two have been watching the movements of restaurants and bars around here. Not their first robbery in this area,” Jess explained. “They probably thought tonight was a good night to hit.”
“Then they were wrong,” Lyra said grimly. “Bumbling idiots took themselves out more than me.”
Patrolwoman Jess gave her an I-don’t-believe-you look. “Uh-huh.”
She watched as Trixie gave her statement and the medics came in to take the men out on the stretchers. Five minutes later, while she was wondering how they would secure Trixie’s door, Everett rushed in.
“I heard the call on the radio—officer involved robbery.” Everett cupped her cheeks and moved her head from side to side as if inspecting her for bruises. “Soon as they said this address, I knew it was you and Trixie. Are you both okay?”
“We’re fine. Those guys weren’t too great at robberies.” Lyra gave him a reassuring smile.
“One said you broke his arm and the other guy is screaming he shot you.” Everett gave her a dark look.
She turned around. “As you can see, no bullet holes on me. When they collided with each other he may have thought he fired the gun, but he didn’t.”
“How did they collide?” Everett asked.
“I distracted the first guy and shoved him at this friend, then they went down. I think that’s when he broke his arm,” Lyra lied smoothly.
Everett blew out a breath. “This could have ended so much worse. Best to give them the money and let them go on their merry way.”
Lyra met his gaze. “They wanted more than money, two women, alone in a bar with two gunmen, guess what else they wanted, Ev?”
“I should go shoot them myself,” he said angrily.
“Is this wrapping up soon?” Trixie walked up and asked. “After this we definitely need that swim, pizza, and margaritas.”
“Should be done soon. We’re going to need some plywood for the door to secure this place until you can get your insurance people out here,” Everett replied.
“We’ll get it all together and then we can head to my place.” Lyra put her arm around Trixie’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze.
“I heard pizza and ‘ritas,” Everett’s voice held curiosity.
“We’ll be swimming nude, so no boys allowed.” Lyra poked him in the chest.
“Hey, you don’t care about nudity. You walked in the bathroom naked this morning,” Everett pointed out.
“Excuse me?” Trixie looked from Lyra to Everett.
“He woke me up for work,” Lyra said dryly.
“Y’all are spoilsports. I’m going to go fix your door.” Everett walked away.
“So, are you always nude around your partner?” Trixie teased.
Lyra shrugged, and the soreness still in her shoulder reminded her that she had been shot. “He’s like a big goof gum brother, he doesn’t care and neither do I.”
“The word is goofball, and yeah, I know, Paladin—y’all walk around with wangs wagging everywhere.” Trixie patted her on the back. “Going to have to burst your bubble here, sweet cheeks. The way he ran in and made a beeline for you just now... he doesn’t feel like you are a sibling. Tell him the truth.”
Lyra thought about what Trixie said as she helped Everett with the door. After wrapping it up with the police, they were allowed to leave. Even as they swam and joked, ate pizza and drank one too many mango margaritas, she had him in the back of her mind. Her friend was right, Everett had to know about her truth, and she prayed to god she didn’t lose her partner because of it.
* * * *
After the night they had, Trixie crashed at her house. She left her friend sleeping in her guest bedroom and went to work the next day. Trixie’s day usually started in the late afternoon anyway, and since the bar would need to be fixed, Lyra doubted she would be doing anything more than yelling at her insurance guy and meeting him to see the damage. Coming home to find her friend lounging around her pool was a definite possibility and one that Lyra didn’t mind. Her father thought that the earth realm would have her running back home, begging to be married off and living in royal bliss, but Trixie and the people she helped gave her a solid connection to her mother’s home, one she didn’t want to give up.
While she had made a firm decision to tell Everett about her life, Lyra didn’t know how to broach the subject. Most of her time had been spent hiding her second nature. How would a human male feel about her being the stronger one? Would it affect his masculinity, would he tell, or worse, want a new partner? It all made her gut clench painfully even as she took a sip of the hot gourmet coffee in her travel mug.
She would have to just tell him or show him. Right now, her focus was on the three-story building in front of her as she pulled into the parking lot. The coroner’s office looked like a regular business on the outside except instead of cubicles there were rows of metal tables and body freezers lined the walls. Their business was speaking for the dead, and right now they needed to know what Monica’s body had to say. Everett stood outside the door, munching on some kind of pastry and looking off into the distance like something was on his mind. He raised his hand in greeting as she parked. Lyra got out of the car, locked it, and headed his way.
“Morning, mortal,” Lyra said teasingly. “What are you eating?”
“Cherry cream cheese Danish.” His tone was more subdued. “I snagged one from the bullpen before I headed here. I walked, so that’s my exercise for the day, and I deserved a treat.”
“The precinct is just around the corner so not much of an exercise routine.” She laughed, and he barely smiled. “You okay, Ev?”
“Sucky night’s sleep, that’s all. Let’s go see what Doc Frederick has to say.”
“Anything on the Amber alert?” she asked as she opened the glass door and went inside.
“Nothing at all, and we finally got the father coming in when we leave here,” Everett said. “Something is absolutely off that his wife gets murdered, his kid is missing, and it takes this long for us to get a statement out of this character.”
“What was his excuse to not come in again?” Lyra listened to the rhythmic sound of their footfalls heading down the hallway.
“He’s an oral surgeon to the stars, and he was on a private jet heading to some spa New Mexico,” Everett answered. “If I heard my wife was dead and my kid was missing, I would be fuck all of you and your teeth.”
“That’s because you’re normal. Either way, I’ll know if he's lying when we talk to him,” Lyra said firmly.
“Yeah, you and your built-in lie detector,” he muttered.
“Okay, what’s with you? This sixth sense works all around not just with criminals,” Lyra demanded.
He avoided her question. “Let’s see what Doc has.”
Doc Frederick was a tall, rail thin man with tight, curled blond hair that seemed thick for his head or his frame. His one step would make two of hers, and he moved with a natural slowness that made her think of a praying mantis. The long white lab coat swung behind him as he moved. He looked up and smiled when they came in, a mouth that seemed too big for his face and made him look even more unusual, but there was no better or nicer man than Doc Frederic who cared about the dead more than most.
“Hello, Everett. You pale in the company of the lovely Detective Temple,” Doc said.
“Don’t pick on him, Doc, he’s in a mood.” Lyra smiled up at the coroner. “Do you have anything on our victim?”
Doc looked from Everett to Lyra and shrugged before walking over to one of the freezers and pulling out a slab. He pulled back the white sheet to reveal the body of Monica Hart, clean and devoid of color except for the garish Y incision that now marred perfect skin. For a moment, Lyra wondered what would happen to her body when she died being part human? Paladin dragons turned to shimmering dust when their souls went back to the gods who created them. Their souls went on to their forefathers to feast at their tables of the glorious dead, the ones who fought and died as warriors. But she was half human. Would she be like her father or mother’s people? The thought of lying out on a cold metal surface if she died made her feel ill.
“Monica Hart, thirty, no signs of trauma to her body but she is dead as a doornail,” Doc said.
“Yep, we can see that. How did she die?” Everett asked.
“Nicotine poisoning. High levels in her urine and blood, the symptoms had to be terrible as she died. Someone injected it between her toes,” Doc said.
“Her eyes were this weird color, why?” Lyra asked.
“Not many people wouldn’t have caught that,” Doc said, pleased. “This is why I like you, Lyra. You are magnificent at assessment. Leave the doldrums of being in the force and come work with me.”
“I like my job, but I’ll keep that in mind.” Lyra smiled.
He covered his heart. “I shall have to tarry forth. The odd color came from a new eye surgery where a hard contact is inserted behind the cornea. It is used to give people with certain eye conditions better vision. She used it cosmetically.”
“Why are women so worried about looks?” Everett sighed.
Lyra snorted. “This from a man who dates women who look like they came out of magazines.”
“Hey, I’ve dated women who were a solid five out of ten, and they were great,” Everett said in defense.
Lyra rolled her eyes. “How magnanimous of you to give them your time to make them feel worthy.”
“Stop shoving that foot deeper in your mouth,” Doc advised her partner. “In any case, she was a perfectly beautiful woman without the breast augmentation and liposuction, tummy tuck...”
“She had a kid so maybe the tummy tuck was to fix that,” Everett said.
Doc frowned. “What are you talking about? She never had a child.”
“Doc, we have an amber alert out for a two-year-old boy who is her child. Her best friend confirms it and pictures are all over that apartment of her holding a baby,” Lyra said.
“I can tell you with all certainty, she never had a baby,” Doc said firmly. “Maybe a surrogate was used. It’s the rage now to have someone else carry your child.”
“Guess that’s another question we have to ask Mr. Hart.” Everett looked down at the body. “Thanks Doc. Let us know if anything else comes up.”
“I hope you find the child.” Doc’s voice held sadness. Lyra knew that children cases affected him the worst. “Bye, my darling Lyra.”
She stood on her tiptoe to kiss the man who dwarfed her six-foot height. “Bye, Doc, and I have those cherries coming in for you.”
“Bless you.” Doc blew her a kiss as they left.
“Want a ride back?” Lyra asked Everett as they walked out the building.
“Nah, I’ll walk,” he said stiffly.
Enough was enough. She grabbed his forearms. “Since when is my car a bad thing? You borrow it all the time. Are they teasing you again?”
“None of that,” Everett answered and turned away.
“Then what?” Lyra heard the pleading tone in her voice. “What’s wrong with you that you are treating me like an unwanted stepchild?”
He whirled on her as they stood on the sidewalk. “I don’t like lies, and my partner feeding me bullshit usually puts me in a bad mood.”
Her heart picked up in speed. “What lies did I tell?”
He moved until they were nose-to-nose. “That gun last night was fired. I could smell it when they logged it into evidence. I went back and found blood on the ground. You and Trixie didn’t clean it up all the way. Sloppy work, detective.”
“Ev...” She didn’t know what to say
He grabbed her shoulders suddenly and squeezed. Although the wound was healed on the outside, the inside was still mending. Lyra winced.
“Yeah, I thought so,” he said angrily.
“Everett, we have a lot to talk about but please let me explain. I wanted to tell you for so long...”
“Yeah, we do, but right now we have a job and a suspect waiting for us. I’ll see you back at the precinct.”
He turned on his heel and strode away angrily. Lyra watched him go, and in her heart she was terrified. Her time was up, and the truth would have to be told. How it would end? She was unsure, but Lyra got into her car to make the short drive to the police department. He was right, they had a job to do.
She was already in the detective bullpen when he walked in. He flicked a glance at her before directing her with his head toward the interview room. She noted that others, people they worked with, picked up on the tension and passed knowing glances between each other. Their betting pool is probably going up, Lyra thought as she followed him. His attitude irritated her because he had no clue what was going on. The secrets were to protect him and herself. Lyra shook her head, knowing she was wrong to hide the truth, so she was willing to take the cold shoulder up to a point.
Interview room three held drab gray walls and a simple office table that was against a far wall and bolted into the floor. It was the same with the chair that Mr. Geoff Hart sat in. After a few incidents where suspects threw chairs, department heads thought it was best to minimize projectiles in the rooms. People always saw lieutenants watching interviews through one-way glass mirrors while they tried to glean information.
She had never seen a room set up that way. Instead, there were two cameras mounted on the wall with sound capabilities. They were recorded at all times to keep both parties safe and to have a recording she and Everett could go back through. If stories changed, there it was held in time, exactly what was said. Lyra could smell Geoff’s Hart’s sweat and the stink of deceit on him. He would not be an easy person to talk to.
“I’m Detective Everett Craig, my partner, Detective Temple,” Everett said as he sat down. Lyra chose to stand.
“What happened to my wife, my son?” Geoff Hart demanded. “Shouldn’t you be out looking for him?”
“Shouldn’t you have been here from the time we reached you through your nurse?” Everett responded.
Geoff made a disgusted sound in his throat. “I was already on a plane. It’s not like I could tell them turn around.”
“Yes, you could, it was a private jet.” Everett opened the file and deftly changed the subject. “Your wife was poisoned with nicotine. Was she a smoker?”
“Monica? Hell no,” Geoff said, outraged. “She was all about her body image.”
“New boobs, lipo, chin implant, lip and nose work.” Everett didn’t look up. “Yes, we see that from the work she had done.”
“You’re going to disparage a dead mother because she could afford plastic surgery?” Geoff said.
“Certainly not, all of that and being a mother,” Lyra said calmly. “Except she didn’t give birth to Bryce, did she? Who was his mother, Mr. Hart?”
She and Everett were always good at playing off each other, and she watched the color leech from Geoff Hart’s face and his dark eyes shift away. It was the first crack in his perfect exterior. Gray suit that had to be worth a few hundred, neat haircut, clean shaven, and a four-thousand-dollar watch on his wrist. He didn’t look like a man devastated about his wife being dead or his son missing.
“You are mistaken. Monica was Bryce’s mother,” he said stiffly.
“Oh, the coroner was pretty sure.” Everett leaned back in his chair. “What did he say, Detective Temple?”
“His exact words were those hips and genitals had never seen a child pass through them,” Lyra ad-libbed. “Which facility and doctor delivered him?”
“He was born overseas,” Geoff answered.
Lie. Lyra didn’t say the word, but she could tell his heart raced and tiny beads of sweat formed at his scalp.
“Interesting.” Everett laced his fingers. “Did you have your wife killed, Mr. Hart?”
“I’ll have your badge for that,” Geoff snarled. “How dare you ask me such a thing?”
“Someone is always trying to take our badges,” Lyra murmured and sat down. “Where were you when your wife was killed?”
Geoff turned his gaze on her. “I left for my office by six a.m. I had two procedures before I headed to the airport.”
“You could have injected her with the nicotine and left. It takes a while to work,” Everett jumped in.
“She would have symptoms fifteen minutes or so after being poisoned,” Geoff pointed out. “If I poisoned her, she wouldn’t have made it to the pool with Bryce.”
Lyra looked at Everett then Geoff. “It is certainly interesting you know that fact.”
“I work with people who fuck up their mouths smoking that shit and dental training didn’t mean I don’t need some medical training.” Geoff was snide. “I have to know this stuff. She would have too much saliva in her mouth, nausea, dizziness, and her heart rate would slow... quickly.”
Everett wrote on his note pad. “Thank you so much for that information. Lyra, does he sound like a murderer being a know-it-all and hiding it under the guise of medical training to you?”
Lyra sighed. “He surely does, and it doesn’t explain how he and his wife are raising a son who seems to have been born via the miracle of magic.”
“Immaculate conception?” Everett asked.
“No, that’s when she created a baby without sexual intercourse,” Lyra said.
Everett nodded. “Ah, got it.”
Mr. Hart stood angrily. “Find my son and my wife’s killer, detectives. The next time you talk to me, call my lawyer first.”
“I’m sure we will have to,” Everett said. They watched him leave before he asked, “What do you think?”
“He’s lying and knows something, but is he a murderer? I doubt it,” Lyra said. “His kind would worry about losing everything he worked for in prison.”
“Doesn’t mean he didn’t hire someone to do it,” Everett countered as he gathered up his notebooks and files.
Lyra stood. “Good point, so we should talk.”
“I have a deposition about Tollie.” Everett went back to being crisp and business like. “We’ll get to that later.”
“I’ll run down birth records for Bryce, to make sure if he was lying about overseas, then follow up with the Amber alert and see if any processed evidence gave us anything,” she said as they walked out.
“Yeah, do that.”
Everett left without even a goodbye. She went to the desk that sat opposite his to work on the computer and add information to the case file. At some point someone dropped a manila envelope and a sandwich on her desk. She looked up and Louie stood there with a look of concern on his fac. Looking down at her watch, told Lyra it was well past lunch.
“Figured you should eat, since you’re in the zone. It’s from the food cart outside so it’s good,” Louie said. “Your partner seems in a mood.”
Ah, it’s a gossip offering, Lyra thought. She sniffed dramatically and decided to add fuel to the fire. “I don’t know what’s going on with him; it’s like after we.... Never mind, thanks for the sandwich. What’s the package?”
“It was dropped off downstairs for you, so I brought it up with lunch.” Louie put his hand on her shoulder. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
“Louie, isn’t delivering a package with no name kind of weird to you? Maybe it’s anthrax or something,” she said sweetly.
He shrugged. “Could be from your confidential informants, I don’t know.”
“One more thing, Louie,” Lyra said and stopped his slow forward momentum. “How much is the pot for if me and Everett are fucking?”
His eyes widened for a moment then he bent to her ear. “Six hundred so far, and the odds are split down the middle. When you’re ready to give me the scoop, I’ll split it with ya.”
“Do I seem to need three hundred dollars?” she asked.
Louie shrugged. “Then give it all to me, I don’t care.”
Lyra laughed. “Bless it, I love you, Louie. You don’t give a fuck what you say to anyone.”
He snorted and bit into his own sandwich as he walked away. Picking up the flat envelope before the sandwich, Lyra opened it. A blade of lilac grass fell out first. The color and scent... she was instantly on alert and looked around to see if anyone was watching before she saw the rest of the contents. It was one picture of her working the case at Monica’s crime scene. She held the sash in her hand and was looking back as if staring directly into the camera. The caretaker had been there, close enough to take the picture, two simple words scrawled across the bottom in black. Hello, Princess...