enough.
“Maybe I can help,” Ian said. “I brought some of your uncle's favorite toys.”
In the course of pursuing his investigations, Gerry had created a set of tools, each with its own specific purpose in investigating Ghouls and other magical incidents, by bewitching certain objects and creating others from scratch. Gerry had written the book on charming everyday objects with complex spells - literally. The local magics-only bookstore sold a small printing of his book. Wendy knew that he hadn't revealed all, or even most, of the spells for these objects. Some things Gerry saved for himself.
Set out before her on her polished wood high top table in her very modern kitchen were Gerry's tools in all their paranormal glory. She didn't know what most of them did, but she knew that her uncle usually never went anywhere without them.
“He let you take these?” she breathed, taking in the sight before her. “He loves these tools. They're like his children.”
Ian gave her an odd look. “No, Wendy, that's you.”
Heat rose in her cheeks at the personal nature of the comment and the even more personal look in his eyes. Wendy had no desire to get in a family discussion with someone who wasn't family, no matter how close he seemed to be with her uncle. She decided not to answer. “Amazing. There is nothing like these anywhere in the world, you know.”
“Gerry is the best,” Ian acknowledged.
As Wendy's eyes passed over one object and on to the next, a frown emerged on her face and deepened as she continued her study. “I'm not sure I remember what they all do,” she admitted.
“That's all right. I'm here to help.”
The thought that she needed this stranger to help her with her own uncle's tools left a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Thanks,” she said, but the words lacked conviction.
Ian didn't seem to notice. “No problem. Now, Milton is in on this, right?”
Wendy nodded her head. “He and his partner have the case.”
“Good. That means we'll have access. We can get around Horn,” he added as an afterthought.
“You want to go back to library?” Wendy was sure she should have been following his train of thought, but the fact of the matter was that she was totally confused. She'd seen Benny in situ , as it were, and she wasn't sure what they would learn at the crime scene. Surely there was some spell they could be doing here to catch the killer.
When she said as much out loud, Ian just shook his head. “There is no Show Me The Killer spell,” he said dryly. “Sometimes we get lucky with the Last Breath, but if the victim didn't see anything, we have to rely on investigation just like the police.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, “what are we looking for when we get there?”
Ian picked up a box with a metal wand attached to a cord. It looked like some kind of scientific data collection device. “First of all, we'll confirm that there was magic done in that room. This little device measures the residual magical energy in the air.”
“So it's a Geiger counter,” Wendy voiced what she taken the object for initially, “only for magic instead of radiation.”
“Basically,” Ian confirmed.
Wendy thought how to phrase her next thought. “I know Benny was killed by magic, Ian,” she began, “and not just from the injuries to the body or the fact that his killer seemed to be invisible. I can feel it.” She paused, not sure how to continue. “It's like an ache in my bones. Impossible to ignore.”
Ian studied her, his head tilted to one side. Immediately Wendy wished she hadn't said anything. Clearly he thought she was being fanciful, or worse that she was trying to avoid her due diligence in the investigation.
When he finally spoke, the words were not at all what she expected. “Just like him.”
“What do you mean?”
Ian began packing up all the tools and replacing them in the leather bag. “Gerry always knows, too.”
“He does?” When Wendy had decided to
“Maybe I can help,” Ian said. “I brought some of your uncle's favorite toys.”
In the course of pursuing his investigations, Gerry had created a set of tools, each with its own specific purpose in investigating Ghouls and other magical incidents, by bewitching certain objects and creating others from scratch. Gerry had written the book on charming everyday objects with complex spells - literally. The local magics-only bookstore sold a small printing of his book. Wendy knew that he hadn't revealed all, or even most, of the spells for these objects. Some things Gerry saved for himself.
Set out before her on her polished wood high top table in her very modern kitchen were Gerry's tools in all their paranormal glory. She didn't know what most of them did, but she knew that her uncle usually never went anywhere without them.
“He let you take these?” she breathed, taking in the sight before her. “He loves these tools. They're like his children.”
Ian gave her an odd look. “No, Wendy, that's you.”
Heat rose in her cheeks at the personal nature of the comment and the even more personal look in his eyes. Wendy had no desire to get in a family discussion with someone who wasn't family, no matter how close he seemed to be with her uncle. She decided not to answer. “Amazing. There is nothing like these anywhere in the world, you know.”
“Gerry is the best,” Ian acknowledged.
As Wendy's eyes passed over one object and on to the next, a frown emerged on her face and deepened as she continued her study. “I'm not sure I remember what they all do,” she admitted.
“That's all right. I'm here to help.”
The thought that she needed this stranger to help her with her own uncle's tools left a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Thanks,” she said, but the words lacked conviction.
Ian didn't seem to notice. “No problem. Now, Milton is in on this, right?”
Wendy nodded her head. “He and his partner have the case.”
“Good. That means we'll have access. We can get around Horn,” he added as an afterthought.
“You want to go back to library?” Wendy was sure she should have been following his train of thought, but the fact of the matter was that she was totally confused. She'd seen Benny in situ , as it were, and she wasn't sure what they would learn at the crime scene. Surely there was some spell they could be doing here to catch the killer.
When she said as much out loud, Ian just shook his head. “There is no Show Me The Killer spell,” he said dryly. “Sometimes we get lucky with the Last Breath, but if the victim didn't see anything, we have to rely on investigation just like the police.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, “what are we looking for when we get there?”
Ian picked up a box with a metal wand attached to a cord. It looked like some kind of scientific data collection device. “First of all, we'll confirm that there was magic done in that room. This little device measures the residual magical energy in the air.”
“So it's a Geiger counter,” Wendy voiced what she taken the object for initially, “only for magic instead of radiation.”
“Basically,” Ian confirmed.
Wendy thought how to phrase her next thought. “I know Benny was killed by magic, Ian,” she began, “and not just from the injuries to the body or the fact that his killer seemed to be invisible. I can feel it.” She paused, not sure how to continue. “It's like an ache in my bones. Impossible to ignore.”
Ian studied her, his head tilted to one side. Immediately Wendy wished she hadn't said anything. Clearly he thought she was being fanciful, or worse that she was trying to avoid her due diligence in the investigation.
When he finally spoke, the words were not at all what she expected. “Just like him.”
“What do you mean?”
Ian began packing up all the tools and replacing them in the leather bag. “Gerry always knows, too.”
“He does?” When Wendy had decided to
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