give her a ration of
shit about getting orders and bids done and sent out correctly and on time.
She was
sitting at her desk in her windowless office that was the size of a broom
closet and staring unfocused at her computer screen when her cell phone in her
purse rang. She jumped, grabbing the phone from her purse, her heart leaping as
she thought…hoped…prayed—
How can you
pray for a demon?
—that it would
be Samael.
A quick glance
at the Caller ID showed her that it wasn’t from the phone number he had given
her at the restaurant. She had that number memorized.
“Hello?”
She didn’t
like hearing the tightness in her voice.
“Yes,” said a
man’s voice. “This is Detective Trudeau, Portland PD. I’m trying to reach a—”
Claire heard a shuffling of papers and then, “—a Ms. Claire McMullen.”
Crushed with
disappointment that it wasn’t Samael, she wished now that she had taken the day
off.
“This is she.”
“Ms. McMullen.
I’m hoping you can come downtown to the station later today, maybe this
afternoon.”
“If this is
about—”
She began to
mention the call yesterday from what’s-his-name in the DA’s office, telling her
that the suspect wanted to talk to her personally, but Trudeau talked over her.
“We need you
to check out a lineup to see if you can positively ID the suspect.”
“A lineup,”
Claire echoed, amazed to hear herself talking about doing something she had
only seen on TV and in the movies.
But this was
real, and the reality of what had happened—
And what had
almost happened!
—hit her like
a sucker punch.
Nausea swept
through her, and she was sure—if anyone was watching her—they would notice how
her face had gone several shades paler.
“Why do I need
to do that? You arrested the guy there…We have eyewitnesses.”
Another twinge
when she thought that Samael was one of the witnesses…and her rescuer. Who
knows what might have happened if he hadn’t shown up?
“It’s just a
formality,” Trudeau said. “We have to make a positive ID before we can bring
him up on charges.”
Claire didn’t
want to hear what those charges might be. She so much wanted to put all of this
behind her, if only so there wouldn’t be such a distraction from her and Samael
getting to know each other.
But you kicked
him out, she told herself, and there’s no guarantee he’ll be back.
She recognized
the absurdity of her situation.
This is beyond
crazy!
The more she
thought about it, the more she realized the chances Samael was a genuine flesh
and blood demon were slim to none…until she remembered the tail and what he had
done with it.
Then?
All bets were
off.
How could she
explain that away?
“Ms. McMullen?
You there?” Detective Trudeau said.
Claire shook
herself, realizing that he must have said something she had missed.
“Oh—Sorry.”
She smiled to
herself, wondering what he would think if she told him the truth about Samael.
What would
anyone think, other than that she was nutso ?
“I said Mr.
Harris from the DA’s office is available around three o’clock. Would that work
for you?”
“I—I’d have to
get off work early.”
“If you’d
prefer, we can schedule some other time.”
Claire shook
her head vigorously as if he were in the room with her and could see her
reaction. She glanced at her wristwatch and said, “No. I can make it. Three
o’clock, you said?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And where do
I go?”
“You know the
station downtown. Just come in through the front entrance. I’ll be waiting for
you.”
“Should I
bring a lawyer?”
“You can have
a lawyer with you if you’d feel better, but it’s not necessary. There won’t be
any questions, and absolutely no interaction between you and the suspect.”
Suspect?…Not
rapist?
“I—ah—I’ll see
you there.”
~ * ~
The tightness
in Claire’s stomach and chest was bad as she mounted the wide, granite steps
leading up to the front entrance of the
shit about getting orders and bids done and sent out correctly and on time.
She was
sitting at her desk in her windowless office that was the size of a broom
closet and staring unfocused at her computer screen when her cell phone in her
purse rang. She jumped, grabbing the phone from her purse, her heart leaping as
she thought…hoped…prayed—
How can you
pray for a demon?
—that it would
be Samael.
A quick glance
at the Caller ID showed her that it wasn’t from the phone number he had given
her at the restaurant. She had that number memorized.
“Hello?”
She didn’t
like hearing the tightness in her voice.
“Yes,” said a
man’s voice. “This is Detective Trudeau, Portland PD. I’m trying to reach a—”
Claire heard a shuffling of papers and then, “—a Ms. Claire McMullen.”
Crushed with
disappointment that it wasn’t Samael, she wished now that she had taken the day
off.
“This is she.”
“Ms. McMullen.
I’m hoping you can come downtown to the station later today, maybe this
afternoon.”
“If this is
about—”
She began to
mention the call yesterday from what’s-his-name in the DA’s office, telling her
that the suspect wanted to talk to her personally, but Trudeau talked over her.
“We need you
to check out a lineup to see if you can positively ID the suspect.”
“A lineup,”
Claire echoed, amazed to hear herself talking about doing something she had
only seen on TV and in the movies.
But this was
real, and the reality of what had happened—
And what had
almost happened!
—hit her like
a sucker punch.
Nausea swept
through her, and she was sure—if anyone was watching her—they would notice how
her face had gone several shades paler.
“Why do I need
to do that? You arrested the guy there…We have eyewitnesses.”
Another twinge
when she thought that Samael was one of the witnesses…and her rescuer. Who
knows what might have happened if he hadn’t shown up?
“It’s just a
formality,” Trudeau said. “We have to make a positive ID before we can bring
him up on charges.”
Claire didn’t
want to hear what those charges might be. She so much wanted to put all of this
behind her, if only so there wouldn’t be such a distraction from her and Samael
getting to know each other.
But you kicked
him out, she told herself, and there’s no guarantee he’ll be back.
She recognized
the absurdity of her situation.
This is beyond
crazy!
The more she
thought about it, the more she realized the chances Samael was a genuine flesh
and blood demon were slim to none…until she remembered the tail and what he had
done with it.
Then?
All bets were
off.
How could she
explain that away?
“Ms. McMullen?
You there?” Detective Trudeau said.
Claire shook
herself, realizing that he must have said something she had missed.
“Oh—Sorry.”
She smiled to
herself, wondering what he would think if she told him the truth about Samael.
What would
anyone think, other than that she was nutso ?
“I said Mr.
Harris from the DA’s office is available around three o’clock. Would that work
for you?”
“I—I’d have to
get off work early.”
“If you’d
prefer, we can schedule some other time.”
Claire shook
her head vigorously as if he were in the room with her and could see her
reaction. She glanced at her wristwatch and said, “No. I can make it. Three
o’clock, you said?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And where do
I go?”
“You know the
station downtown. Just come in through the front entrance. I’ll be waiting for
you.”
“Should I
bring a lawyer?”
“You can have
a lawyer with you if you’d feel better, but it’s not necessary. There won’t be
any questions, and absolutely no interaction between you and the suspect.”
Suspect?…Not
rapist?
“I—ah—I’ll see
you there.”
~ * ~
The tightness
in Claire’s stomach and chest was bad as she mounted the wide, granite steps
leading up to the front entrance of the
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