Forged in Fire (10 page)

I wish she was here for this. I had no doubt she could throw some squiggles in the air and tell me a hundred times more than I could figure out.

The detectives had been here awhile. There were chalk marks in several areas, where the camera guy demarcated sections of the scene. The uniformed officers stayed outside. I couldn’t blame them.

My cell phone rang. I stood, brushed the straw and dust from my hands, and walked out of the barn. Charlie was talking with Detective Carmine, so I walked around the other side of the barn. It was Gunther.

“Heather just got here,” he said. There was city noise in the background, so I could tell he was walking to his bike.

“Stuart is driving out now. I asked Trisha to keep an eye on Anezka, but I asked him to bring Bub.”

“Interesting choice,” I said, keeping an eye on Charlie and the detective. “Why, pray tell?”

“I have certain prejudices,” he said with a chuckle. “But I see he wants what’s best for Anezka, and lately I’ve discovered he wants what’s best for you as well.”

That was sweet. “Besides,” he continued. “He has a nose for magic and wards and such. He may see or smell something we miss.”

“Okay, then. Cops are just wrapping up and the vet tech is here. I guess he’ll be here a while longer.”

“We should wait until he leaves, I think. How about we all meet up someplace near there and you call me when he leaves.”

I nodded. “Good plan. I’ll be in touch.”

Charlie was done with the detective and was heading back into the barn with a camera around his neck and his messenger bag over his shoulder. I jogged over to catch up with him, but he stopped short and we kind of collided. He didn’t drop anything, but I juggled my phone. It hit the hard packed earth, bounced over his feet, and landed just to his right.

“I’ll get it,” he said, bending over. Once he had my phone in his hands, he rubbed the readout with his thumb, to brush aside the dirt, then looked over at me. “Nice phone,” he said, grinning. “Seriously nineteen nineties. Do you also have a Walkman at home?”

“Funny man,” I said, holding out my hand.

He placed the phone in my open palm and grinned. I closed my fingers around the blocky, silver phone and looked down. For a moment, I got a clear view of a tattoo on the inside of his wrist, but he pulled away, like he didn’t want me noticing.

“I should check on the rest of the horses,” I said, avoiding looking at his arm.

“Good plan,” he said, lifting the camera off his chest. “I’ll get some more pictures of the remains.”

The rest of the horses were overwrought. I counted six in the barn, but I knew there were two other barns. The paddock was empty and the gate closed. The horses were stomping and prancing around, their eyes wild with fear. They’d hurt themselves if they hadn’t already.

One at a time, I opened a stall door and took a shaking and rearing horse by the lead rope. They didn’t want to be touched, wanted to run wild, escape the smell of blood and the memories of what had happened in their safe place.

I got them all out to the paddock and shut the barn door. There was water in the trough, and I’d grab some hay to put down. Eating would calm them.

By the time I had the horses settled, the cops were wrapping up. I hopped the fence and made my way toward the house. Julie was talking with Detective Carmine and Mrs. Campbell while Mrs. Sorenson hung back on the porch. The uniformed officers drove away, and the neighbors began to wander back to their homes.

I walked up to Julie and Mary.

“How’re you holding up?” I asked Mrs. Campbell.

“The other horses are okay, right?” she asked.

“Panicked,” I said. “But I don’t think they are injured in any way. I’ll inspect them each with the vet tech before we leave.”

“Thank you,” Mary Campbell said, quietly. “I can’t believe someone could come here and do this while I was here all alone.”

She shivered, and Julie put her arm around Mary, who then turned and put her head on Julie’s shoulder.

“I’ve called Black Briar to come out as well,” I said, mainly to Julie. “They’ll get here after the vet tech vacates.”

“Good idea,” Julie said, patting Mary on the back. I could hear her quietly sobbing. After a minute, Mrs. Sorenson trundled off the porch and down to us. She smiled at me sadly, said something in Yiddish I didn’t understand, and pulled Mary off Julie’s shoulder.

“Come inside,” she said, her accent thick and throaty. “Let the young ones do what must be done. You come and lie down.”

Mary allowed herself to be led away. Julie patted her on the shoulder as she walked past, then turned to me, speaking in urgent, hushed tones.

“Did you see?” she asked.

“The little pig message? Yeah. Very pleasant.” I rubbed my eyes. “But why did you think it was a warning to me?”

Julie looked puzzled. “Did you not see the other message? The one written down the length of the roof beams?”

“I didn’t see anything,” I answered truthfully. “Only the one message in the stall where the ritual stuff was done.”

She looked at me with that exasperated teacher look and turned me by my shoulders. “Go look again,” she said. “And pay attention.”

“Geez, yes, Mom,” I said, rolling my eyes at her.

I walked away from her toward the barn. Before going in, I turned back to see her watching me with her arms crossed over her chest.

That’s when it dawned on me. She wasn’t using her cane. That was a bright spot in an otherwise creepy day.

Charlie was taking pictures in the stall where the horse had been butchered. “Hey, Beauhall. You see anything I might’ve missed?”

I looked around, looking at the pillars and cross-joists. If there was a message there, I didn’t see anything.

“Not that I can see,” I answered. “You looking for something specific?”

He stood up, holding the camera in one hand. “I thought maybe you recognized that weapon the cops took,” he said, motioning to where the serpentine blade had been stuck into the ground. I’ve heard you had a keen eye and were some sort of weapons expert.”

“Collector,” I said. “Looked like a stereotypical ritual blade,” I said. “Wouldn’t fight with it. Twisted blade like that wouldn’t stand up to real punishment.”

He watched me, waiting for me to say the magic word. I wasn’t sure what he wanted. “Anything else catch your eye, besides the blade?”

I walked up and down the length of the barn, looking from one beam to the next—one stall after another.

On the third pass through the place, with Charlie standing in the kill stall watching me, I caught a glimmer of something.

Near the top of the third stall, there was a glamour. That’s the only way I could think of it. If I looked directly at it, I couldn’t see anything but old wood and dust. But if I turned my head to the side and let the sunlight hang in the corner of my eye, I could see something sparkling, something that looked like runes.

I suddenly didn’t want to mention this to Charlie Hague. He of the secret tattoo and cavalier talk of horse necropsies. “I got nothing,” I said.

He looked at me skeptically, then shrugged. “Thought you may have caught something there at the last. Something I missed, maybe?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Sunlight got in my eyes, that’s all. We should see to the horses, don’t you think?”

He pulled the camera from around his neck, wrapping the strap around the body and stuffing the whole thing into his satchel. “Let me grab my medical kit,” he said, walking out of the stall. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“Cool.” I walked down through the barn, but a tickling caused me to stop and turn. He stood in front of where I thought I’d seen the runes, stood staring at the wall for a good long minute, before jotting something into a notebook and turning back to get his kit.

I hustled out of the barn and walked out among the horses. They were much calmer, but I’d forgotten to get them their hay. I went back inside to grab a bale when I caught a flash from where Charlie stood. He had his back to me, but it had that distinct flair of magic I’d seen from Qindra. Was Charlie Hague a witch?

“Grabbing some hay,” I called out.

He startled, quickly grabbed his kit, and turned back. “On my way,” he said. A neutral smile painted his face as he walked down the aisle toward me.

Who are you, Charlie Hague?
I thought.
Whose side are you on?

We examined each horse. Two had to have small abrasions cleaned where they’d obviously knocked against the stall in their panic and one I had to walk around for a bit, keeping her head low with the lead rope and speaking calmly to her. I like to pet them on the neck when they are agitated. I feel like it helps calm them, letting them know you are there for them, that you will keep things safe.

“You have a subtle touch,” Charlie said from a stack of hay bales. He’d left the last one for me to calm down while he worked on his report. By the time I had the little mare breathing evenly and willing to eat some oats from my hand, he’d uploaded all the pictures from his camera and was sending e-mails off to his office.

“If you give me your e-mail address, I’ll make sure you get a copy of everything,” he offered.

I gave him my account and watched him send me a zipped file.

“Should be enough for the insurance company, as well,” he said, closing the lid on his laptop. “I’ll just go inside and have Mrs. Campbell sign a couple of release forms, then I’ll send a truck out to remove the remains.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll stay out here until things are cleared up.”

“Good idea,” he said, smiling. “And here’s my card. Call me if something comes up.”

He flipped a card out of his pocket with the flair of a three-card monte dealer and held it out to me. I took it from him, and, as our fingers brushed, I got a flash of young Mr. Hague’s true self. Just like when I first met the dwarf, Rolph Brokkrson, only this time, instead of the forge, it was books and dust, secrets and sorrow. There’s a bit of the cloister in him, I decided. Something quite different from a hotshot vet tech on the rise.

He gave me a puzzled look and bowed toward me, ever so slightly. I guess it was a thing. Lately everyone was bowing to show respect.

I waved as he walked down the drive to his van and turned to the house. I texted Stuart, letting him know they were clear to come see what there was to see.

Now I just had to let Katie know what was going on.

Fourteen

K
atie hadn’t been happy about the situation, as you can imagine, but understood my decision to call Jimmy and the others. She didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. She just said she’d be home when I got done. Not as bad as it could’ve gone, but there was definitely a frostiness in her voice.

I was on my second cup of righteously sweet tea when we heard the sounds of vehicles coming up the drive. I looked at Julie briefly and got up. I didn’t even wait for Mrs. Sorenson to finish her thought.

Jimmy and Deidre were in his truck, Stuart and Bub in another. Gunther rolled up on his Harley. The sun was low in the sky, casting the farm in shadows. Frankly, I’d been afraid to go back into the barn alone. The magic done there was vile, and I wanted no part in it. Besides, I loved horses. Being around a dead one was not high on my list of fun times.

I thought about the message Julie saw, about the fact that it seemed to have faded, and about the way Charlie Hague had done something like magic when he thought I wasn’t watching. I definitely needed answers.

“Hey, Jim,” I called as I went out onto the porch. He was taking Deidre’s chair out of the back of the truck as Stuart and Gunther walked toward the house. Bub hovered over between the trucks, where folks in the house couldn’t see him. Not sure how either Mrs. Sorenson or Mary would react to my little demon buddy.

“Mind if I just head into the house?” Deidre asked. She looked exhausted. Physical therapy was hard work. I knew from when I had them work on my wounded hand.

I took her in and introduced her around, and she settled in next to Julie. Before I was out the door, they were all chattering together like old friends. Good folks.

The guys had waited for me by the trucks.

“It’s not pretty,” I said, waving them over to the barn. “Smell is bad, burned meat, viscera, stale blood…”

“Sounds delightful,” Stuart said, hefting a flashlight.

Gunther and Bub went straight for the ritual stall, while Jimmy hung back, taking in the whole scene. I just stood to the side, letting them examine things without prejudicing them. I wanted them to find something I’d missed.

Stuart did more of a security sweep, examining each stall carefully without going inside. Keeping an eye on things while the others did what they had skills for.

Gunther, on the other hand, went about his investigation so specifically, the same as Charlie Hague, that I was startled. He couldn’t be following the same steps Charlie did any closer than if he’d been there to watch the first investigation. I’m not sure exactly how to explain it. His examination was as much metaphysical as physical, if that makes any sense.