standing in that kitchen and taking their first breath, all of the gung-ho just fell out of them. To a man they flinched and half had to turn their heads.
Flies buzzed around the corpse ceaselessly, drunkenly spinning away to bump into the walls and ceiling with loud clicks.
Owen pointed his service .38 at us with one hand and gestured with the other. “Outside, right now!”
We went gladly. The fresh air was sweet and intoxicating. I could feel the muscles in my neck and back unclenching as soon as the stink washed out of my lungs.
Chuck and Anne were already cuffed and standing by one wall, their weapons in plastic bags on the trunk of a cruiser. Deputy Ellis approached me while Owen kept his weapon trained on me and yanked Hunger from the sheath strapped to my leg. He hesitated for a moment before handing it to a deputy waiting with a bag, his lips thinning in distaste.
Touching Hunger is disturbing on a primal level, much like touching the Devourer’s altar pieces. To me it just feels warm, even a little comforting. I wondered if I held an altar piece now if I would still recoil like I used to.
Deputy Ellis dropped Hunger quickly into the bag and rubbed his hand on his pants.
Then he spun me around roughly and cuffed me. “Stand over there with the others.”
Everyone was against the wall except Henry, who was shaking his head at Owen. I couldn’t make out what was being said, but neither man looked happy.
Henry turned around and put his hands behind his back, and Owen gently put cuffs on him. We were all bundled into the back of different cruisers as the crime scene folks arrived, burdened with bulky cameras around their necks and carrying big plastic equipment cases in each hand.
We spent the next several hours being questioned individually, a process not unlike the intense debriefings that I had undergone in my youth after being relieved of some arcane trinket brought back from the field. I guess the main difference was that this time there wasn’t a squad of guys with flamethrowers outside ready to torch me if they thought I might have come back contaminated in some way. It’s the little things that you come to appreciate in your old age.
They eventually brought us into a conference room and gave us coffee. Except for Leon, who we were still waiting for when Owen entered the room. He put two things down on the table before taking a seat. The first was an artist’s sketch of Leon’s face, a little out of proportion, but still a pretty good match. The second was a clear plastic evidence bag with half of a brick in it. The corner of the brick was stained with blood.
“So,” he said, “I heard Leon had words with KC at Verna’s yesterday.”
I nodded. “He did. But KC did put his recently deceased cousin in the hospital last week, so I don’t know that I can blame the guy for throwing a few punches.”
“Let’s not do that. The 911 report shows that there were guns involved, and that your lady friend here drew first. Don’t make it out to be some kinda schoolyard dust-up.”
I spread my hands. “People were pretty angry. But contrary to your report, Anne drew second. She just drew a lot faster.”
“And that broke up the party, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
“So, I guess you could say that Leon had some unfinished business at that point?”
“I don’t know about that. He seemed pretty done to me.”
Owen shrugged. “Never can tell when a man feels like he’s gotten all that he feels owed. Let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that he wasn’t done. That maybe he went by KC’s place later on that day for a visit.”
He pushed the sketch into the center of the table. “I’m gonna say that’s pretty likely, considering that one of KC’s neighbors gave us this sketch. They claim that they saw this man leaving KC’s house at dusk. I’d say that’s a pretty good likeness, wouldn’t you?”
I didn’t say anything, but the artist’s sketch was obviously of Leon.
Owen
Flies buzzed around the corpse ceaselessly, drunkenly spinning away to bump into the walls and ceiling with loud clicks.
Owen pointed his service .38 at us with one hand and gestured with the other. “Outside, right now!”
We went gladly. The fresh air was sweet and intoxicating. I could feel the muscles in my neck and back unclenching as soon as the stink washed out of my lungs.
Chuck and Anne were already cuffed and standing by one wall, their weapons in plastic bags on the trunk of a cruiser. Deputy Ellis approached me while Owen kept his weapon trained on me and yanked Hunger from the sheath strapped to my leg. He hesitated for a moment before handing it to a deputy waiting with a bag, his lips thinning in distaste.
Touching Hunger is disturbing on a primal level, much like touching the Devourer’s altar pieces. To me it just feels warm, even a little comforting. I wondered if I held an altar piece now if I would still recoil like I used to.
Deputy Ellis dropped Hunger quickly into the bag and rubbed his hand on his pants.
Then he spun me around roughly and cuffed me. “Stand over there with the others.”
Everyone was against the wall except Henry, who was shaking his head at Owen. I couldn’t make out what was being said, but neither man looked happy.
Henry turned around and put his hands behind his back, and Owen gently put cuffs on him. We were all bundled into the back of different cruisers as the crime scene folks arrived, burdened with bulky cameras around their necks and carrying big plastic equipment cases in each hand.
We spent the next several hours being questioned individually, a process not unlike the intense debriefings that I had undergone in my youth after being relieved of some arcane trinket brought back from the field. I guess the main difference was that this time there wasn’t a squad of guys with flamethrowers outside ready to torch me if they thought I might have come back contaminated in some way. It’s the little things that you come to appreciate in your old age.
They eventually brought us into a conference room and gave us coffee. Except for Leon, who we were still waiting for when Owen entered the room. He put two things down on the table before taking a seat. The first was an artist’s sketch of Leon’s face, a little out of proportion, but still a pretty good match. The second was a clear plastic evidence bag with half of a brick in it. The corner of the brick was stained with blood.
“So,” he said, “I heard Leon had words with KC at Verna’s yesterday.”
I nodded. “He did. But KC did put his recently deceased cousin in the hospital last week, so I don’t know that I can blame the guy for throwing a few punches.”
“Let’s not do that. The 911 report shows that there were guns involved, and that your lady friend here drew first. Don’t make it out to be some kinda schoolyard dust-up.”
I spread my hands. “People were pretty angry. But contrary to your report, Anne drew second. She just drew a lot faster.”
“And that broke up the party, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
“So, I guess you could say that Leon had some unfinished business at that point?”
“I don’t know about that. He seemed pretty done to me.”
Owen shrugged. “Never can tell when a man feels like he’s gotten all that he feels owed. Let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that he wasn’t done. That maybe he went by KC’s place later on that day for a visit.”
He pushed the sketch into the center of the table. “I’m gonna say that’s pretty likely, considering that one of KC’s neighbors gave us this sketch. They claim that they saw this man leaving KC’s house at dusk. I’d say that’s a pretty good likeness, wouldn’t you?”
I didn’t say anything, but the artist’s sketch was obviously of Leon.
Owen
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