The Light Who Shines (28 page)

Bluebell Kildare: May 31, 2022, Red Ages

I groan and sit down again in my chair as I grab painkillers
out of my purse. I shake out two little red pills as I survey my office. It is
about half picked up now. I wash the meds down with bottled water.

Rubalia buzzes me. “Blue, Chief Mack is here to see you.”

“Thanks, Rubalia. Send him in.”

Chief Mack ambles in and rolls a keen eye around the office.
His eyes quietly examine the two shiners I have as well as my fat lip. He sits
down quietly and places a document down on my desk. He makes himself
comfortable by leaning back in the chair, stretching his long legs out, and
clasping his hands on his lap.

I look at the document and ask, “Are you sure you got
everyone on the list?”

Mack’s lips stretch in a lazy smile. “I’m sure.”

“I’m very grateful for this,” I say. “I hope it wasn’t too
hard to put together.”

“It wasn’t too hard.” After a brief pause, he continues.
“Now, would this list have anything to do with what is going on in your office
today?”

I smile. “Maybe.”

Mack asks, “Would it have anything to do with those two
shining beauties you’ve got there?”

I crinkle my eyebrows. “No, that is another matter entirely.”

Mack asks in his same laid-back, even tone, “Do you need any
help with that other matter?”

I gesture toward Varg and say, “No thank you, Chief. Varg
here already settled that matter.”

Mack ponders on this for a space, then says in his deep,
smooth intonation, “If a dog attacks because it doesn’t know its place and you
put it in its place, then it will likely stay there. If a dog attacks because
it’s rabid, no matter what you do, that dog is going to keep on attacking. The
trick is to know what kind of dog you’re dealing with.”

I lever myself out of the chair and walk to the window. What
Mack just said shakes me. I hadn’t even thought that Schmidt might continue to
be a problem. I suddenly feel very unsafe. I look past the manicured lawn to
the street beyond where unknown people ride in cars, passing at regular
intervals. I watch them for a minute, wondering where Schmidt is right now and
if he is out there lying in wait. I turn to Chief Mack, who patiently waits,
and say, “You’re right Chief Mack. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mack says, “Now, about this list.”

I ease myself back in the chair.

“The five who were conducting interviews are listed at the
top,” Mack continues. “All five of us are members of the Rotary Club. I lead
the Fireworks and Magic Show Committee every year. The rest of the spots are
filled by whoever volunteers that year.”

I look and see the following people listed:

Gerald
Mack, Chief of Fire Department

Hilda
Gunderson, Owner of Zen Spa and Salon

Milton
Goldberg, Owner of Goldberg Jewelers

Tobias
Blackwater, City Councilman, Treasurer

Hank
Fletcher, General Manager of Mountain Paper Mill

I ask, “What do you know of the four volunteers?”

Mack says, “Milton is the only one I really care for. I
bought my wife’s pearls from him. He seems to have a joy about him that I think
would be hard to corrupt. I run into Tobias at the city council meetings on
occasion and of course at budget time. I can’t say that I like him very much.
He seems cold and greedy. But as treasurer, he controls my budget, so I suppose
I’m biased against him. The other two I don’t know much of, besides what I see
of them at the Rotary Club meetings.”

“And what do you see of those two at the Rotary Club meetings?”
I ask.

Mack contemplates this for a moment. “Well, they’re always
on opposite sides of any debate. That’s all.” He leans forward and says, “Well,
if that is it. I should head back to my men.”

I tap my pencil lazily on the desk and ask slowly, “Chief
Mack, did you tell anyone you were asked to put together this list?” Mack’s
slow talk must be contagious.

Mack says, “No, Ma’am. I wrote it up myself.”

I say, “Thanks, Chief Mack, for stopping by. You have been a
big help.”

Mack’s smile reaches his eyes. He nods his head graciously
and says, “It was my pleasure.” Then he languidly stands up and strolls out.

He would have made an excellent Chief of Police too. I’ll
bet nothing gets past Mack.

Bluebell Kildare: May 31, 2022, Red Ages

With the sound of the shutting door still echoing in my
mind, Rubalia buzzes me. “Detective Gambino is waiting to see you.”

“Please send him in.”

Gambino opens the door and winces when he sees my face. He’s
wearing a charcoal gray, pinstripe suit today, well-dressed as ever, but
clearly unshaven. During the time I’ve taken to observe him, I’ve noticed his
eyes keep straying to my face, and his cheeks turn a blotchy red. I gesture
toward the chair and he sits down.

Gambino leans to the left of the chair and spreads his right
arm over its back, taking up as much room as possible. Gambino says, “Jack
called me in. He told me what happened with Schmidt.”

I pick up my pencil and draw some squiggles on my pad. “Ohh?”

“Yes. He also said that I shouldn’t expect Schmidt back at
the office.”

I spin the pencil in my fingers and tap the eraser on the
pad, watching it bounce off and vibrate. “Did he, now? Did Jack also happen to
say if Schmidt was alive when he left him?”

Gambino grunts at that. “Jack said that he crushed Schmidt’s
hand while Schmidt was shooting at him to immobilize his firing hand. He said
that beyond that, he didn’t harm him. He said he had a talk with Schmidt, and
the two of them came to an understanding about repeat offenses.”

“Hmm,” I say.

Gambino looks out the window and says, “I know Schmidt is
alive because he called in sick today.”

I think back to the moment in the alley when I saw Varg’s
teeth tearing into Schmidt’s arm. I remember the blood streaming from his face.
“I expect he did. I’m glad he’s still alive.”

Gambino grunts at that noncommittally. Funny, I think, that
so much can be said with a sound. Gambino’s grunt says he wouldn’t care if
Schmidt were dead if not for the fact that he would then have to arrest Jack.
Gambino may look like an Italian gangster in his pinstripe suit, but he is more
self-actualized than most people I know. We sit quietly for a moment.

I push myself out of the chair, an effort that again takes a
bit of leveraging. My abdominal muscles are stiff and sore. I get up and walk
to the window. I find the green of the manicured landscaping relaxing.

Gambino says from behind me, “Are you okay? Do you want to
press charges?”

I say, “I want to know if Schmidt is a rabid dog or just a
stupid dog.”

Varg growls, and Gambino asks, “What?”

Still looking out the window, I respond, “Never mind. If
Schmidt doesn’t show up at work again and doesn’t bother me again, then I won’t
press charges.” Then I turn around. “Now what did you find when you searched
Agnes’ house?”

Gambino grunts again. “We found nothing. Slab-on-grade. No
other structures were on the property. Neither Agnes nor Paul own any other
properties. We checked with the bartender at the Cock and Bull Tap, and it
seems Paul was there for several hours before the boy died. He left about an
hour earlier, right before the police shift arrived. That was typical for him.”

“So the bartender’s story matches Paul’s.”

Gambino nods. “I don’t think Paul had anything to do with
the kid’s kidnapping and torture.”

“I believe the other party is after the amulet,” I explain.
“The wards in my apartment were breached, and every room was trashed.” I
gesture around my office. “I assume Jack told you we had an uninvited visitor
here last night as well.”

Gambino nods grimly.

I sit down again. “What I have to say next will need to be
handled delicately.”

Gambino’s face hardens.

I buzz Rubalia. “Rubalia, can you ask Jack to join me and
Detective Gambino in my office?”

Jack Tanner: May 31, 2022, Red Ages

When I enter Blue’s office, her presence hits me like a
jackhammer, complete with visions of her softly moaning while lying in my arms
yesterday. At the same time, my gut twists from seeing her fat lip, black eyes,
and battered face. I steel myself and affect professionalism, telling myself
that’s how it has to be with us. Now is about getting the job done.

Gambino is sitting in the chair that typically sits across
from Blue’s desk. Blue gestures toward the extra chair in the back corner of
her office, and I pull it up to sit by the pair.

Blue furrows her brow and squints a little while pressing a finger
to the side of her temple. Then she clasps her hands on her desk and turns to
Gambino.

“First I’d like to get you up to speed,” she says. “Jason’s
best friend gave me a tip that Jason had intended to interview to be a
volunteer for the Sun Flare Fireworks and Magic Show. Jason’s gift, according
to his friend, was the gift of magnification or amplification. He could magnify
the effect of any power by at least ten times. This is an extremely powerful gift
and could be sought after and abused for countless reasons. In this case, my
guess is that someone sought it for the purpose of finding the amulet and
perhaps the rest of the key and the book. I hope that only the amulet has been
found so far, but we should consider the possibility that our culprit has the
other two items as well.” Blue takes a breath. “I’m getting ahead of myself a
bit here.”

I can see the wheels turning in Gambino’s brain. His eyes
get shadowed and he looks like he is trying to find a word that eludes him.
“Wait,” he says, “can you tell me about this book? What exactly does it do?”

Blue gives me a sideways look, deferring to my judgment on
this one. I step in and speak for us. “The book is an important magical
artifact, but its purpose is privileged information. It is essential that it
doesn’t get into the wrong hands. I can’t tell you more.”

Gambino gives me a brief, hard stare, and the air in the
room thickens with his unspoken questions and doubts. I return his stare
levelly, and he apparently decides to accept this gracefully and turns to Blue.
“Please go on.”

Blue clears her throat, then presses her finger to her
temple again. “The Rotary Club sponsors the Sun Flare Celebration each year.
That is to say, they provide the manpower to organize it while the city pays
for it. The lead of the Fireworks and Magic Show Committee is always Fire Chief
Gerald Mack. I met with Chief Mack, and he confirmed that Jason was at the
interview on the day he went missing. That makes it the last place he was seen
prior to the kidnapping. And I guess that should catch you up with what Jack
knows now.”

Blue looks at me, and I nod to confirm.

Blue sits back and sweeps both of us with her startling blue
eyes. She winces when she turns her head. Her eyes are bloodshot, and she seems
to be in pain. I am just about to stop her from continuing on while in obvious
pain, but she starts talking again, in a softer voice now. “There were five
people on the Fireworks and Magic Show Committee doing the interviews. Chief
Mack was, of course, one of them. He said he had to leave early because he was
called out on a fire. I can in no way believe Chief Mack was involved, just
because of the person who I can feel he is.” Blue pinches her nasal bridge then
looks at Gambino. “But I assume you can easily check his whereabouts just so we
know we’re doing our due diligence?”

Gambino shifts in his chair and absently rubs his cleft chin
as he thinks of his response. “I agree with your character assessment, but I’ll
definitely check it out for the sake of due diligence.”

Blue taps her pencil eraser on her desk, and the next words
rapidly tumble out of her mouth. “The other four people are Milton Goldberg,
the owner of Goldberg Jewelers; Hilda Gunderson, the owner of Zen Spa and
Salon; Hank Fletcher, the General Manager of the Mountain Paper Mill; and
Tobias Blackwater, the City Treasurer. All are prominent business people, with
the exception of Tobias Blackwater, who is, of course, on the City Council.”

She winces again, stops tapping her pencil, and starts
squeezing her fingers while simultaneously watching our expressions.

“Blue, do you want to reschedule this meeting until
tomorrow?”

Blue looks surprised but lifts up her chin and says,
“Absolutely not. Let’s get through it.”

I scowl at that and turn to Gambino. “What issue will you run
into if we question the councilman?”

Gambino settles back in his chair and answers carefully.
“Tobias is in control of the entire city budget. He could cause problems. He is
also closely connected to the mayor, so we could get pressure to stop the
investigation.”

I can’t stand politics. All the simpering and sly
maneuvering is pathetic. I stand and start to pace as my distaste gets the
better of me. Unfortunately, Blue’s office is too small, and only a few paces
take me to the opposite end. After I’ve thought about it a bit, I turn to Blue
and Gambino. “Then we will just have to question the other three first. Then
hit Tobias.”

Gambino, in a much calmer state than I, studies the
situation for a minute. “If we question the three, word will get back to Tobias
quickly. We won’t have much time to move.”

I frown and look out the window while running through the
possibilities in my mind. Finally I pound on the window frame in frustration. I
hear a soft sound escape Blue’s mouth. Immediately contrite for making the
noise, I turn to her. She must have a headache. I wish I could sense her like
she can sense people. Then I wouldn’t have to wonder. That thought rolls into
another.

“Blue, do you think you could question the three covertly to
try to pinpoint their whereabouts after the interview? You would need to try to
confirm through a second party, if possible.”

Blue looks excited, like she thinks this could work, despite
her continued finger fidgeting and brow furrowing. She says, “I could also use
my sixth sense to validate what they tell me. I’ll need to be creative, but,
yes, I’m sure it can be done.” She turns to Gambino and says, “I’d like you to
participate so that you can give me your take as well and so you stay in the
loop.”

Gambino looks happy to have a plan. “Sure. I think this is a
good way to start.”

“Great,” Blue says. “I have some more research to do on the amulet.
Can you meet me here at, say, one o’clock tomorrow?”

“Sure thing,” Gambino says.

“Good. Dress casually.” Then she looks at both of us, and with
her finger poking into her temple again, she says, “Thanks for playing, boys.
Now, I have a stabbing headache, so I’d love to call this meeting to a close.”