Page 23

Chapter 22

D r. Jackson lived in a nice residential area. Clean sidewalks, apartment buildings one next to the other, no parking spots in sight. Not that it mattered. A Forum forensic van had double parked in front of the building, and Forum personnel had closed down the street, an official-looking fae waving through regular traffic while they indicated for Adler to double park as well.

“Do you know which apartment?” Gordon asked from the passenger seat.

“2B. You know people on this team?”

Gordon shrugged as Adler put his car in park. “Probably. I mean, I’ve been working in the morgue for a while, and we get regular training seminars for all medical staff.”

Adler undid his seat belt just when Gordon did. “Ah. I forget you’re getting all these regular trainings. Must be nice.”

“You could attend too.” Gordon looked at Adler. “Do you think she’s okay?”

Adler shook his head. “I don’t make those kinds of assumptions. Let’s go inside. Or if you’d rather—”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Okay.”

They got out of the car, and Adler noticed the traffic-minding fae pointing to the building entrance to make sure he and Gordon didn’t get lost on the way.

It was cooler once they stepped inside, thanks to tall ceilings and thick walls. Adler liked the tiled floor and noticed how clean everything smelled, though with the forensic team here, he got fae, werewolf, and vampire scents.

After the front door there was an extra door before you got into the hallway proper, both of which looked like you’d have to unlock them. Right now, the forensics had propped them both open with weights that, somewhat anally, stated they were “property of the Forum.” With satisfaction, Adler noticed that both doors had been dusted for prints already. Anal and bureaucratic they may be, but they know what they’re doing. Got to give them that.

They passed a team that was dusting the elevator for prints. Gordon gave them a friendly nod before they moved on to the stairs. Adler took his time, looking around, and Gordon paced himself instead of overtaking Adler. To Adler’s werewolf side, that was a massive turn-on, never mind that Gordon probably wasn’t doing it because of that.

On the next floor, Adler spotted Maxim in the hallway just outside 2B, phone pressed to his ear. He glanced at them.

“I think so, Heath, darling. Adler just arrived, and he brought Gordon. No, I think it is too late for that, the detective is already aware of the opioid cookies. No, I don’t think he plans on putting the doctor in handcuffs for that.”

When Adler came closer, he could just about hear Heath yell from the other side, Stop pretending I’m saying that, old bat! They are your side project, not mine! Why do you always have to do this to me? You’re old. People are supposed to become calmer and more biddable when they get old.

Given that eavesdropping was impolite and that Adler was thinking he could probably use the weed cookies if Gordon was open to playing out a bit of a fantasy, just a tiny scene for the two of them, he ignored the implication. And anyway, calling the hunter a liar in front of a full forensic team was like baring your teeth to an alpha, and Adler didn’t do anything like that, ever.

He spotted one of the forensic techs examining a broken water glass on the floor inside the apartment and grinning to herself. The conversation Maxim was having clearly helped to lighten the glumness Adler generally saw in the Forum’s forensic people.

“Yes, darling, wish it were so too, but no. I will tell them that.” Heath could be heard groaning on the other end. Maxim hung up and turned to them. “Heath says he is happy for the two of you.”

“I bet,” Adler said. “You ever offer Heath any of your cookies, Gordon?”

Gordon shook his head. “As far as I know, he subsides on coffee.”

Maxim chuckled. “That he does. Now”—he slid the phone into his pocket—“What we found out last night is disturbing.”

“Disturbing how?” Adler asked.

Maxim shrugged. “Let me explain. Is the dining room finished?” he asked one of the forensics. They nodded, and they all sat around the oval table that had a vase in its center with roses that were starting to brown. A mug stood there as well, teabag still inside.

“What happened to Dr. Jackson?” Gordon asked.

Maxim’s jaw clenched. “We are working on that. The fae murders, especially the second one, that was unplanned, an escalation. Our murderer either realized that it would bring the Forum to her doorstep in full force, or she simply panicked. I am hoping for the first scenario, because it makes Dr. Jackson a hostage intended for bargaining rather than someone our perpetrator randomly took along, someone she doesn’t know what to do with. Philippa Pearson, by the way. That’s her name.”

Gordon shook his head. “Who is that? And why—how? You said they were girlfriends?”

Maxim nodded. “Heath has been tracking their relationship on social media. Going on three years now. It looks good from the outside, he says. Selfies from vacations they took together, holidays, barbecues with friends, the normal things dating life gifts you. But Philippa Pearson comes with a sealed juvenile record that I expect Dr. Jackson knew nothing about.”

Adler grumbled. “We’re sure a woman did this? I mean—I know my alpha and what she could do if she wanted to, but assuming this Pearson is human?”

Maxim inclined his head. “She is. The juvenile record was for smaller stuff. Shoplifting, beating up a fellow student on one occasion. It led Heath to the court documents and the psychiatric evaluations that were done on her. Those are where things get very interesting.

“Philippa’s parents were murdered when she was young, her sister younger. Apparently, it looked a lot like werewolves and was never solved.”

Adler gasped. “Oh, shit.”

Gordon reached out, touching Adler’s hand before Maxim continued.

“Quite. It’s still not the interesting part. The psychiatrists agree that Philippa showed distinct signs of anti-social personality disorder, and it would seem her parents were aware and had her see a therapist for a while before their unfortunate deaths.

“Now, apart from those minor offenses, Philippa wasn’t in the system. There were things around her that Heath and I aren’t sure about. Fires in the foster home that killed two elderly foster parents, a foster sibling that fell from a window. Heath just found reports of that, nothing more. The fire was supposedly an accident.

“Then Philippa showed up here, in New Amsterdam. Heath found her sister, a new vampire.”

“Oh.” Gordon’s eyes drifted from the wilting flowers to the mug. “That made her mad?”

“Possibly.”

“What now? Do we have any leads?” Adler asked.

Maxim shook his head, his hunter’s braid sliding off his shoulder. “We do not know right this second where she is, so I thought catching up would be nice, though I expect you two had a far more entertaining night than the rest of us. Care to share, hmm?”

Adler snorted. “You’re nosy.”

“I concur,” Gordon said.

“Oh, do you, Doctor?” Maxim said with a feline twinkle in his eye. “Are you already taking sides with your lover? Progress, finally.”

Adler cleared his throat. “Maybe while we wait to see if the scene gives us anything, how about we continue investigating the dead fae?”

“Corinne said something about my first fae victim being found behind a bar. Do we know if she was in there?”

“We assumed she was,” Maxim said. “Going there and asking around was on my dance card for today.” He looked the two of them over. “You should come. Unless we get any further in Dr. Jackson’s case.”

Gordon’s eyes widened. “We’re going undercover?”

Maxim chuckled. “Oh, you two could go in undercover. I never go in anywhere undercover. I like to let people see my swords. It’s how I get the best answers.”

“Hunters,” Adler said, shaking his head in exasperation.

Maxim snorted. “You know no others, and I am the best.”

Gordon stood. “We’ll do it. If it helps. Right, Adler?”

And of course, Adler found himself agreeing before he could consider how wise it was to take his cute forensic pathologist out of the morgue and drag him to a bar for a case.