S and Murder (Hannah Graves Spin-off One)

Five

Five:

Seen one cop-shop, seen the rest. They all smell the same, like divorce, hamburgers, and day-old fries. That is probably a rehash of several cop dramas, even if I didn’t intend to quote them, but the statement is true enough.

There is a bitterness in the air where desperation lingers all around. The police, and the perps they collar both seemed to marinate in it. Police stations are not my fave place, for a plethora of obvious reasons, but also because I can not only detect the high levels of misery overlayed via the layers of sinister acts all haphazardly stored in a single facility under what I would deem to be the minimal guard. It’s a wonder that more haunts and spectral wraths have not burst through the entire network of police stations internationally. Spectral monsters tend to be attracted to death and misery, and where there are many, a breach can be formed to the physical world mortals occupy.

“What’s with that look?”

Ren inquired, and I shot him a testy but subtle expression.

“Strangers, hello, nice to meet you fam.”

I said in a smart-assed tone, and Ren seemed to bristle at the youthful turn of phrase. He did not seem to follow the latest trends in speech and slang. Like most of his considerable age, Ren was absolutely lost on the way of space-age teens. His own daughter had not been a teen since before the west was won.

I noticed Ren used a holographic age enhancer when he worked with humans. This was how he controlled the age and appearance they saw. It was a nice trick, considering how observant humans in the detective business are likely to be.

Normal humans are nosey and annoy, but detectives are like dogs with a bone. You cannot give them a single stitch to unravel or the entire thing goes to s**t.

I sat out in the reception and Ren prowled over beyond my sight. He was wearing his human holo, which had him looking in his late forties, very similar to his partner. Poor bugger, if only he knew the truth! Ren was kicking around when his ape-great-great grandsire was just getting busy in the primal zoo!

He looked much the same as in his Nix form, only with more dignified grey hair and a slightly more weathered waistline. I am certain that if you could wash clothes on abs, Ren’s muscles would be the most ideal ones to choose. He was always the same to me because his fiery Nix aura made him a glaring beacon on my spectral sight. Whatever it was that made my kind distinct, also made it easy for us to distinguish the predators from the prey. Ren’s red aura was like a bloody warning to stay clear of him. While all the Nix seemed to have red-tints in their auras most of the time, alpha-male types like Ren were like neon flashing lights way far back, and visible for miles and miles before they should usually be detectable to others. I can only imagine one other being that likely shares this, granted I have heard her sight is far better than mine.

“Miss, can I help you?”

A young attractive police officer asked me politely, and I gave him a winning smile and drank him in with my red devilish eyes.

“Yes, perhaps, I am looking for a Detective, Francis Rossi. I believe he said to meet him down here to speak about my ex-girlfriend.”

I said in my most polite and chipper tone, which was also a bit less colonial than this precious young man was expecting. I could see the surprise, and then the musky depth of his attraction. Something very primal about accents seems to make people all bothered in the knickers.

He practically stumbled over himself as he began to offer his assistance.

“I would be more than happy to show you to his desk, and make sure he gets right to you.”

I gave him a winning smile and one of my more doe-eyed looks. I was better at seduction and deception than I liked to admit, mainly because it was such a sordid thing to be keen at. However, it does come in handy when Ren is all but fingering a gal for murder. A murder that I certainly could have done if I were trying to make it obvious that something supernatural happened to her and that it had to do with her internal chakra network. As far as plans go, it was horrendous for a succubus trying to stay on the DL.

The young officer led me and seemed to hover close as if trying to ensure none of the other desperately needed of a nice tumble, men did not poach on his catch. A girl typically gets the princess treatment, if she flirts a little, so I don’t mind. I have led an extremely complicated youthful life, so I am never one to look gift horses in the mouth.

“Do you study around here?”

He asked, and I gave him a doe-eyed look and nodded slowly.

“I’m at NYU for my post-grad. I already finished my undergraduate at Hudson University.”

I answered honestly, which was all true. I had been to both schools, and I had finished my criminology program at Hudson University. I now studied the tail end of my thesis project on ‘The evolution of the criminal in modern culture.’ A premise that the evolution of the social structure and the authoritative structure also weave and shape the types of criminals they can expect in their natural habitat.

Unlike most my age, I am not busy poking fun at the culture or the historical events that brought us to this point, only on seeing how time and society has shaped us and bred different types of change in our environment. Some for the better, and some not so much.

As a creature that is in a sort of social exile, I find sociology and criminology fascinating. Besides, understanding the nuances of the social norms and irregularities helps me to better cope with my existence in this world such as it has been.

With have head down, and his greying mane ruffled noticeably, Detective Francis Rossi drank me in as I approached. His eyes flashed with something like surprise or shock when our eyes connected. I was used to this, most humans reacted badly to things they do not understand. Add to that, the fact that I was so obviously off-beat and alien, as well as a potential murder suspect. I could see Francis Rossi’s antenna going up in an alert.

“Detective Rossi, this is,”

The young man looked flushed as he suddenly realized he had bent over backward to help me, yet he had not so much as asked my name. Not to sound stuck-up, but I get that a lot, being what I am. It is one of the very short lists of perks.

“I’m Spencer Kacey, I was Sara’s ex-girlfriend. I believe you wished to have a word with me, Detective Rossi?”

I inquired of him in a polite and chipper tone. Whatever charm and hormones I seemed to radiate appeared to be ineffective on Rossi. He seemed undeterred by me, and somehow doubly suspicious of me now.

“Miss Kacey, if you would be so kind as to follow me into our open interview room, just through this door, we can continue this conversation—alone.”

He added the last bit and shot a warning look at the drooling young officer. I felt a bit bad for the guy, he was about to be kicked like a stray puppy, and he could not help being caught in the vacuum that is my s****l web. I might be deadly beautiful on the outside, but that does not remove the depths of my absolute lethality to most other species, human or immortal. This self-same lethality appeared to present itself to the older man. He seemed a lot savvier with his read, and I was annoyed that I had not even considered using contacts. I had done so many times on campus, mainly when I needed to meet the faculty advisors or department heads.

There was nowhere to go but forward, so gave him a polite smile and I nodded slightly.

“I’ll do anything to help you.”

I said, and I tried to be a little more vulnerable, more what was expected of my age.

“Yeah, well come this way, and we’ll get this over with as soon as we can.”

He said, and I could hear the attempt to build a rapport. He seemed to be playing by the book on this one. Detective Rossi was savvy, and he seemed to be working an angle. I could sense his aura; he was anything but the easy pushover he was presenting himself as right now. He was not like me, but he was no mere snack either.

We entered a small cube of a room with a metal desk that had a handcuff bar in the middle, where they could secure more dangerous suspects for interrogation. The room was a lighter ash wood, not the typical dark wood you see on comp dramas. There was also a microphone and a couple of basic controls on the box next to it. I could guess what that was going to be used for today. Most of these things were being fed straight to a digital recording on a PC these days. There were probably several cameras also, but those were hidden.

“You seem very comfortable in here.”

Detective Rossi observed, and I gave him a neutral look and I seated myself on the side he waved for me invitingly. I did not choose to answer that not-question. I knew everything I said was being recorded, and that I should limit my exchange to the most minimal. There was no need to make this dog and pony show anymore complex than it had to be. As the gamers say, you don’t feed the trolls.

“Could you state your name for the record?”

I bat my lashes and looked at Detective Rossi with a polite smile in place.

“Spencer Kacey.”

He grunted an affirmation and said, “You were the victim’s last steady girlfriend, yes?”

I sighed and shook my head and said, “No, I have not the foggiest how many other girls she’s been shagging since last year, Detective.”

He seemed unhindered by my evasive maneuver.

“Then why was your number the one she was dialing when she was murdered?”

He slammed his fist on the table with a heavy meaty thud, and I looked up at him, observing him as I did any male who was behaving violently. I was still, quiet, and my expression of power was like a thunderstorm ready to strike out if needed. He stared back into my eyes as if he were certain he had his whale hooked, and I swore into my mind. I knew that look, the look of a man convinced he knew what he was seeing, and what the answers were.

“I cannot speak to the actions of a woman whom I have not so much as text in the past year. I can provide any information you require as to my whereabouts for whatever time and date you need. I did not kill Sara, and if you pursue this line of investigation, you are not doing my ex-girlfriend’s memory any honor, Detective.”

He ground his teeth, and he seemed to be irked with me.

“Such a waste of use for a criminology degree, wouldn’t you say, Miss Kacey?”

I shrugged and said, “How about you give us a ring when ye are more up to having a civilized conversation, and off looking for real murderers, yeah?”

I stood up, and I walked out the door, and he almost grabbed my arm, but a stern look in my eyes gave him more than ample pause.