“Um… well, we kind of need to talk about something.”
“We kind of need to do it?”
“Yeah. See, I just… Well, the thing is… I mean, you need to… God, there’s really no easy way to —”
The office door burst open, and Levi declared, “Knox, we got a problem.”
Knox went rigid. “What sort of problem?”
“Talia’s apartment is on fire. That kind of problem.”
Harper’s mouth fairly dropped open. Well, shit.
In no time at all, Harper found herself standing outside Talia’s apartment building for the second time in the space of a week. Nobody was sitting on the old couch outside this time. Nu-uh. Everybody simply stood across the street, staring at the blackened section of the building and watching as dark smoke drifted into the sky.
A fireman walked over to Harper and Knox, covered in soot and sweat; she recognized him from their lair. He nodded respectfully. “Mr. Thorne, Ms. Wallis.”
Knox inclined his head at him. “What happened here, Blaine?”
“The fire didn’t spread beyond Talia’s apartment. Oddly enough, it was easing off before we even arrived… as if it was under the control of someone.”
“Hellfire,” said Knox quietly.
Blaine nodded. “That would be my guess.”
“I’m hoping you’re going to tell me that Talia’s at work.”
“I wish I could. The neighbors heard her screaming. My guess is that it was her dealer. Apparently he paid her regular visits, threatening her with violence if she didn’t pay what she owed him. I’m guessing this was about money that she simply didn’t have to give.” Blaine shrugged. “I can’t think of any other reason why she would have been screaming apologies at someone.”
“Apologies?” Harper echoed.
“Yes, ma’am. Her closest neighbor claimed that Talia kept screaming that she was sorry over and over.” Hearing someone call his name, Blaine gave Knox and Harper an apologetic look. “Excuse me.”
Just as Blaine walked away, Tanner appeared and said, “I talked to her closest neighbors. They said they heard her —”
“Screaming apologies,” Knox finished. “Blaine mentioned it.”
“Did he also mention that she kept begging for forgiveness, promising that if they stopped the fire and let her out she’d make it right – whatever ‘it’ is?”
Knox rubbed his jaw. “No, he didn’t mention that.”
Tanner gestured to a curvy, dark-skinned female standing near an ambulance, her face blank, eyes wet. “Rosa just arrived. She’s Talia’s partner. Want me to talk to her?”
“I’d like to ask her some questions myself.” Keeping possession of Harper’s hand, Knox headed to the she-demon. “Rosa?”
She blinked up at the three of them, looking dazed and numb. “I don’t understand how this could have happened.” Her voice was low, soft, defeated. “I just spoke to Talia an hour ago. She was fine.”
Harper’s chest tightened. “I’m not good in these situations,” she admitted. “I don’t know what to say, except that I’m sorry.”
Rosa swallowed and gave a weak nod of thanks. “Why would someone do this?”
“The police said she’s been having trouble with her dealer,” said Knox.
“Raymond?” Rosa’s brow pinched. “He’s a lot of things, but he’s no killer. He hasn’t got the stomach for it.”
“Is there anyone else who might have been upset with her?” Harper asked. “One of the neighbors said they heard her shouting apologies to someone.”
Confused, Rosa shook her head. “She didn’t have enemies. Outside of work, Talia kept a low profile.” Silent tears began streaming down her face. “I just don’t understand.”
Knox gave her a pointed look. “If there’s anything we can do, you let us know, Rosa.”
“I will. Thank you, Mr. Thorne.” She swiped at her wet cheeks. “Maybe she’ll find some peace now. She was never really at peace with life.”
“I’d like to think that she will.” Harper gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, feeling so fucking bad for Rosa. The female was doing a hell of a lot better than Harper would have done in her position. Losing Knox would destroy her. Wanting to give the grieving female some space, Harper clasped Knox’s hand. Let’s leave her in peace.
“Thank you for speaking with us, Rosa,” said Knox. “Remember to come to us if you need anything.” He turned to Harper. “Let’s go, baby.”
As they walked to the Bentley with Tanner, she looked up at Knox. You think it was McCauley, don’t you?
So do you.
Harper didn’t deny it. Couldn’t deny it.
Once the three of them were back inside the Bentley with Levi, she said, “If McCauley can teleport, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to go there, set the fire, watch her burn, and then ease the hellfire before getting away again without being seen.” Hellfire wouldn’t burn the demon who conjured it, which meant that McCauley would have gotten away unharmed.
Levi caught Harper’s gaze in the rearview mirror, his expression one of disbelief. “You think the kid did this?”
“Talia wasn’t alone when she burned to death,” Knox told him. “She was apologizing to someone, promising that she’d make it right.”
Levi cursed. “That doesn’t mean it was him.”
“No, it doesn’t,” agreed Knox. “But it does mean I need to speak with him. Make a pit stop at the Sanders’s house.”
Levi switched on the engine. “You got it.”
When they finally pulled up outside the house, Harper looked at Knox. “Did you give Wyatt a telepathic heads-up that we were coming?”
“No. I want to see their reactions to the news.”
Levi opened the rear door for them. “You’ve got me real curious about this kid. I’ll come inside with you this time. There are no teens lurking about, eyeing up the Bentley.”
Knox led the way up the path, and Harper then pressed the doorbell.
Wyatt opened the door after a few moments. His eyes narrowed as he took in the four of them. “Something’s happened.”
“Can we come in?” said Knox.
“Come through to the kitchen.” Wyatt led the way into a small, bright kitchen. “What’s wrong?”
Expression grave, Knox spoke, “Talia is dead.”
For a brief moment, Wyatt said nothing… as if not comprehending the words. “What?”
“Both Talia and her apartment went down in a blaze of hellfire, but the rest of the building is fine. It was clear that she alone was the target.”
“Hellfire?” Wyatt’s gaze sharpened. “She was murdered. Jesus.”
“Someone trapped her inside and killed her. She was screaming for them to let her out, but they didn’t.”
Cursing, Wyatt gave a sad shake of the head. “I’ve watched hellfire burn people alive. It has to be a horrible way to die.”
Harper was in perfect agreement with that.
Linda strolled into the kitchen. She almost stumbled to a halt as she studied their faces. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Wyatt rubbed at his nape. “Talia burned to death in her apartment. Hellfire.”
Linda’s face went slack and she gripped the counter. “Oh my God.”
“Any suspects?” asked Wyatt, shifting into detective mode.
“Some believe it may have been her dealer,” began Knox, “though her partner doesn’t seem to think so.”
“It’s always the same with addicts,” said Linda with a sigh. “If the drugs don’t kill them, the dealers do. She chose that lifestyle.”
Harper didn’t like the bite in her voice. “Nobody deserves to die like that.”
Linda blanched. “Of course not, I wasn’t suggesting that she did. I just…”
She was just glad that Talia couldn’t come and take McCauley away, Harper guessed.
Knox glanced at the doorway. “Where’s McCauley?”
Linda hesitated to respond. “He’s upstairs, play
ing in his room. Why?”
“Has he been there all day?” asked Knox.
She double-blinked. “Yes. He doesn’t spend a lot of time downstairs with us.” And that clearly disappointed her. “He likes his space. Privacy.”
Harper personally didn’t know a lot of six-year-olds that confined themselves to their room and didn’t want attention. It would be one thing if he was in an abusive household, but it was obvious that Linda would enjoy showering him with positive attention. “We’d like to talk to him.”
Linda’s gaze darted from Harper to Knox. “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to break the news to him. He never knew about her. Maybe we could simply tell him that you’ve been unable to find out who his biological mother is – it would be unkind to make him lose a mother twice.”
“That’s not why we wish to speak with him,” said Knox.
Realization flashed across Linda’s face. “You don’t think it was him surely? He’s six, for God’s sake.” When no one said a word, she put a hand over her heart. “I swear to you, he did not leave this house. I would know if he had.”
“Maybe you just didn’t see him leave,” said Knox.
Linda’s lips flattened. “If he could teleport, he would probably have left his human adoptive parents long ago.”
“Not if he had nowhere else to go.”
“He doesn’t even know that Talia was his mother.”
“He could have heard you talking about it.”
“But we didn’t talk about it.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Wyatt objected, ignoring his mate’s glower. “He may have overheard our argument with Pamela, Talia’s mother. I’m not saying he caused the fire, I’m just saying he may have overheard that conversation.”
Knox tilted his head slightly. “You had an argument with Pamela?”
It was Linda who responded. “Talia must have told her about him – probably because she didn’t want her to find out from anyone else. Pamela wanted to take him. She was very insistent.” From her tone, it was clear that she’d felt intimidated by the woman. “We said no. She threatened to involve you, so I pointed out that it was you who left him in our care and that if she wanted that to change then she’d have to consult you.”
“She hasn’t spoken to me about it yet.” Knox pursed his lips. “When did this happen?”
“This morning,” Linda replied. “Even if he did hear the argument, it doesn’t mean he did anything wrong. Teleporting isn’t that simple. He’d have to have an address or an image in his mind of a person or a place he wanted to go. He doesn’t know what Talia looked like or where she lived.”
Phone in her hand, Harper asked, “Does he have access to a computer? To the Internet?”
“Not the Internet,” said Linda.
“What about either of you?” Harper asked the pair.
Wyatt folded his arms. “We use the Internet, yes, why?”
“Because it would be a simple case of finding her on Instagram.” Harper held up her phone, showing them Talia’s Instagram page. “She also has a Facebook profile. In other words, there are ways he could have gotten a picture of her. Surely you don’t spend every moment watching over him. He could have used your computer without your knowledge.”
Linda shook her head. “He’s a sweet boy.”
Harper inwardly snorted.
“He’d never harm anyone,” Linda insisted. “He didn’t even harm the human who cruelly tried to burn him in an oven. No, I won’t believe that he hurt Talia.”
“We still need to speak with him.” Knox turned to Wyatt. “Take me to him.”
Linda opened her mouth to object, but Knox silenced her with a look.
“This way,” said Wyatt. They followed him up the stairs, across the landing, and over to a closed door. He gave it a rhythmic knock. “McCauley, you have visitors.” Without waiting for an invitation, Wyatt twisted the knob and let the door swing open. “You remember Knox and Harper, right?”
Keeping Harper slightly behind him, Knox entered first. He briefly scanned the room. It had been decorated and filled with toys and games that any boy McCauley’s age would love. Linda and Wyatt had clearly spared no expense.
Knox didn’t fail to notice the drawings on the walls – like last time, they were pictures of a family. Two adults, two children, and a dog. In each drawing, they were dressed or posed differently, but the people always looked the same. “Hello, McCauley.”
From his space on the carpet, McCauley looked up at them. “Hello.” His voice was as devoid of emotion as his expression. He stayed very still, his posture unnaturally perfect.
Cocking his head, Knox studied the Lego tower the boy had built. Tall, solidly built, and well-proportioned, it looked like a mock model of a building. Very advanced for a child of six. “You must be a smart boy.”
McCauley blinked.
Knox used his psychic hand to lift a Lego brick and place it on the tower. “Can you do that?”
McCauley shook his head.
Knox feigned disappointment, hoping to prick at the pride of McCauley’s demon. It worked. The boy’s eyes bled to black and then narrowed. Suddenly, dozens of Lego bricks lifted from the carpet and started to circle the tower like planets orbiting the sun.
“Impressive,” said Knox when McCauley’s demon retreated. “What else can you do?”
“Just that.”
It was a lie. Knox didn’t understand why the child would lie about it. It was as if the demon didn’t want to show its power. Was it simply used to hiding, having lived amongst humans for six years? Perhaps. “Did you leave the house today?”
The boy gave a slow, stiff shake of the head.
“Do you know why we’re here?”
“No, sir.”
“I think you do. I think you know what we suspect happened today.” That received no reaction whatsoever. “I killed someone when I was a child,” he said, ignoring Linda’s gasp. “It’s not an easy thing to do. Is it?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Talia apologized. She begged for forgiveness. But you killed her anyway. Why?”
McCauley blinked, still exhibiting no emotion. “I don’t know who you mean, sir.”
“You’re quite the little liar, aren’t you, McCauley? And you’re not as good at it as you think you are.”
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
Linda shouldered her way into the room and crossed to McCauley. Standing behind him, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “You heard him, he didn’t do anything.”
Leaning into her, McCauley rubbed at his eyes. “I’m tired.”
It was an act, and Linda fell for it hook, line, and sinker – smiling down at him like he was her own, personal angel.
“We’ll be back,” Knox told her.
Linda’s head snapped up. She didn’t glare at him, but he knew that she wanted to. Instead, she stiffly inclined her head, as if not trusting herself to speak. She remained with McCauley while the others all made their way downstairs.
In the hallway, Knox spoke to Wyatt. “I think it would be best for all concerned if I remove him from your home.”
Wyatt’s shoulders sagged a little. “It would devastate Linda.”
“I’m pretty certain he killed Talia.”
“I wish I could disagree. I look in his eyes, and I see nothing. He’s never happy, he’s never sad, he’s never angry, he’s never anything. It’s not natural. But Linda wants him here.”
“He manipulated her up there,” Harper pointed out.
Wyatt nodded. “It’s not the first time he’s done it. You have to understand… Linda had several miscarriages. Only one pregnancy went full-term.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Our son was stillborn. We called him Sam.”
The agony in his voice made Harper swallow hard. She couldn’t even imagine how painful that must have been for the couple.
“It’s something that’s been eating at Linda for a long time,” Wyatt continued. “It’s like she feels
that she’s failed as a woman and a mate – it’s ludicrous, of course, but that just seems to be how she feels. She sees McCauley as a chance for us to be a ‘real’ family. She doesn’t care that he doesn’t behave like normal kids. As far as she’s concerned, we shouldn’t expect any element of normality from a traumatized child. And she’s probably right about that. It could be that I’m being as insensitive and paranoid as she’s accusing me of being.”