《Faerie Forensics》


 Chapter 1

    Great, just great. Another mess. And I don¡¯t just mean the guy whose insides were now on the outside all over the pavement in the French Quarter. I mean the fact that I know it was a supernatural culprit. There were a ton of giveaways, like how all of his jewelry was meticulously removed and placed into a neat, little pile by his body or how his pupils appeared to be missing. Not his eyes, his pupils.


    She was going to be upset, and no one wanted to make her upset. Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t much I could do about it. The Queen of the faeries had me investigating any possible Fae-related deaths since she became displeased with the last detective. I assumed he simply told her what she didn¡¯t want to hear a few too many times, but no one saw  him after that.


    I snapped some shots of the deceased, his bits and pieces, and all around the scene. The elaborate, pastel houses, once owned by freed slaves, did not feel like the appropriate backdrop for a murder, but then again, what was?


    What a job. I know why I was picked for it, of course. I¡¯m a half-blood. Mom¡¯s a faerie; dad was a human. I was working as a reporter, not even an investigative one, but there¡¯s no explaining human occupations to the Queen of magic. That, and me being a woman seemed to seal the deal for her. I wasn¡¯t exactly offered the job as much as told it was my duty to obey her.


    After fudging my credentials, the faeries got me working as a forensic photographer. Gets me to crime scenes, and I can take pictures of all of the evidence. Traveling is a perk of the job, but it hasn¡¯t exactly been a vacation, especially since every place I¡¯ve been sent to so far has been the worst time of year to visit.


    My last big case was in Dublin during the winter to uncover a very disgruntled Pooka. He¡¯d been living on the streets as a dog, and some people were unkind to him in ways I don¡¯t want to think about. He decided to let them know what it felt like to be an animal. Had them chained up in cages, and put masks on them so they could fight to the death in cold, rainy ring matches. He even invited other Fae to take bets.


    I must have been standing still for too long thinking about the Dublin case, because Detective LaCroix snapped his fingers at me and pointed to the mound of gold chains and rings.


    ¡°Hey, newbie, you get a shot of that?¡± He asked.


    I nodded. There was no way he wouldn¡¯t have noticed it, but a girl could hope.


    ¡°Why would the perp take the victim¡¯s jewelry off and then leave it?¡± Lacroix asked.


    Wiping the sweat from my brow, I eyed Lacroix in his full suit and tie. I was less than excited to be sent to Louisiana in the summer. The air was so thick it was hard to breathe, and everything was perpetually wet. Eyeing the other members of forensics inside the yellow tape, I couldn¡¯t imagine how they were going about their normal duties in their full business attire, let alone the extra gloves and decontamination suits. The only good thing about the getup was that the mask I had on was obscuring the dead guy¡¯s smell enough to keep my breakfast in my stomach.


    I remained silent. No need for me to affirm that something out of the ordinary was out of the ordinary. Queen Mab wouldn¡¯t like any of this.


    Back when I told the Queen about the people-fighting ring, she was furious. She doesn¡¯t want humans to know about the Fae. Magic is supposed to be hidden. The more hidden, the more powerful. Everything is about secrets to her. Those who can keep them, and those who are dead.


    The way her blood red lips contorted and her black eyes seemed to glow with rage while I described the betting on the ¡°dog¡±-fighting, I thought I was done for. If anyone could kill with a glare, it would be her. Luckily, it didn¡¯t last long. Queen Mab went back to her emotionless, porcelain expression while ordering her silver-clad knights to bring her everyone involved and dispose of the witnesses. She didn¡¯t speak any other words to me, but I understood the case was closed.


    Not knowing any faerie politics (thanks mom), I made some enemies that day. And now, here I was, shipped back across the ocean on a red-eye flight to another mess. I barely had time to get off the plane and introduce myself to the team, before being rushed to a crime scene. And now, I had to figure out if this death was by a faerie, and which faerie, fast, because the only thing Queen Mab hated more than bad news was incomplete bad news.


    ¡°Hey, newbie, I asked you a question,¡± Lacroix said.


    ¡°Oh, I thought maybe it was rhetorical,¡± I said.


    ¡°Rhetorical? Where you say you¡¯re from again?¡±


    ¡°North.¡± I didn¡¯t want to be too specific, but my accent was obviously American and from the North East. Last thing I needed was a detective looking into me.


    ¡°Right. That¡¯s exactly why I want your perspective, as an outsider.¡± Lacroix was hard to read. He had reflective sunglasses and the creases in his dark skin made it look like he was perpetually frowning.


    ¡°Uh, I don¡¯t know. There¡¯s lots of talk about witchcraft around here?¡± I tried.


    ¡°You mean voodoo?¡± Lacroix said a little too loudly. ¡°You think it¡¯s dark magic?! That¡¯s what you think, Barbie O¡¯Gillis?¡±


    As much as I appreciated the middle-school name-mockery, I had already said too much. The others around me went about their business as if they hadn¡¯t heard a thing. I held my camera at my chest and blinked a few times. The sweat was making its way into my eyes.


    ¡°It¡¯s O¡¯Malley,¡± I said, ¡°Hailey O¡¯Malley.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    I could feel the weight of the air pushing on me. Desperately wanting to be anywhere but there, I shifted, readying myself to leave but remained standing over the kneeling detective. There was a silence that seemed to last forever.


    Then, a strange noise bubbled up from the detective. It was startling to me at first, but then I realized he was laughing. He stood up and slapped me on the back.


    ¡°I¡¯m just messing with you, newbie. Let¡¯s get out of this heat and get some sweet tea down at the station. Don¡¯t want one of you Northerners passing out from the heat.¡± Lacroix¡¯s demeanor was entirely changed.


    I had never seen someone acting so cavalier at a crime scene, but I also hadn¡¯t been to many crime scenes, and New Orleans was accustomed to bizarre murders. NOLA was known for everything from voodoo to vampires and even pirates. There was a rich history of magical oddities, but nothing to do with faeries as far as I knew. I had no idea if vampires or any of that other stuff was real, but hopefully one of those was the  culprit and I could get out of this hotter than hell hole soon.


    Nodding to Lacroix, I made my way to the police van, and was grateful for the air conditioning it provided. Taking a deep breath as I removed my forensics mask and hood, I flipped through the images on my digital camera to make sure I didn¡¯t miss anything.


    Intestines, ceremonial dagger, bloody hands, bloody ground, lots of blood.


    I¡¯d have to wait until the necklaces got back to the station to find out if they were actually gold or gold-painted iron. Faeries hated iron, so if the jewelry was iron, it would point in the direction of a faerie culprit. The best way to go about this case was probably to let the real detectives do their work and to eavesdrop. I hoped Detective Lacroix was the fast-working type, because Queen Mab was surprisingly impatient for someone who was immortal.


    ¡°Hey, O¡¯Malley, your boyfriend¡¯s here!¡± I heard a voice call from outside the van.


    ¡°My what?¡± I couldn¡¯t help but say out loud, but luckily, I had the van to myself at that moment.


    Once Outside, I could see one of my new forensic coworkers, Chen, standing next to a tall, thin man with hair so blond it could be white and piercing blue eyes. He was definitely one of Mab¡¯s.


    ¡°He¡¯s not my boyfriend,¡± I said while walking over to them.


    Chen lifted an eyebrow looking from the slender man to me.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, I¡¯m her fiance,¡± the Fae said without skipping a beat. ¡°I¡¯m here because you forgot your engagement ring on the nightstand, silly.¡±


    He held out a gaudy, sparkling ring that looked more like someone had won the superbowl than had gotten engaged. I had no intention of taking it or putting it on. From the looks of him, I doubted he was enjoying the weather any more than I was, even though he sported a sleeveless, white shirt to show off his well-defined arm muscles.


    ¡°Right. I keep telling you, hun, that the ring is just a little too big, and I have to get it refitted or I¡¯ll lose it. Will you hold onto it for me? I¡¯m working right now and gotta take these pictures back to the station,¡± I said to the stranger towering over me.


    ¡°Of course, dear.¡± His too-perfect smile gave me goosebumps. But, as I turned to leave he said, ¡°What, no kiss?¡±


    Under no circumstances would this interaction appear normal, but Fae had a way of getting people to believe the unbelievable. It was like an aura they had that put people at ease. Many would find the tall, handsome man before me charming, but I didn¡¯t appreciate Mab throwing a chaperone at me. Especially one who couldn¡¯t control his glamour enough to disguise himself as a human. I could practically see the pointed tips of his ears poking out of his spiky hair.


    ¡°Damn, I¡¯ll give him a kiss if you don¡¯t,¡± Chen laughed, and I got the feeling he wasn¡¯t joking.


    I couldn¡¯t imagine there was anything easy about being a gay Asian-American living in Louisiana, so I was rooting for Chen. Of course, this also meant I¡¯d do everything within my power to keep the faeries away from him.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± I pictured my lips getting stuck to the Fae¡¯s cheek like that kid¡¯s tongue on the pole in A Christmas Story.


    I stood on my tiptoes and the man leaned down. I pantomimed kissing his cheek, with the intention to kiss the air beside him. Instead, he swept me off of my feet and I gasped. On reflex, my eyes were shut. Luckily my camera was on a strap around my neck or I would have dropped it onto the uneven pavement below.


    When I opened my eyes, I was standing beside an image of myself, my dark hair falling over half of my face while being embraced by the elfish man. The two of them were almost glowing as they locked lips, like something on the cover of a romance novel.


    ¡°What the¡­¡±


    ¡°We only have a moment. What did you see at the scene?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Jack. Jack Frost. The Queen¡¯s personal informant, at your service.¡± His hand swung around in a half circle before he bowed.


    ¡°Seriously? I don¡¯t need a babysitter, Jack,¡± I said.


    ¡°Do you think it could be the work of a faerie?¡± He asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe? I¡¯ve barely had a chance to look at the evidence,¡± I said.


    Great, here I thought I was barely getting by at the job, when apparently, I had been too competent and made Mab think I could solve cases with a single glance.


    ¡°The Queen wants you out of here by sundown,¡± he said, then he lifted me into the air with his arms again and stepped into the image of the two of us.


    After he placed me down in front of him, I could see that our PDA (even though it was a magical illusion of one) made others uncomfortable enough to avert their eyes.


    ¡°Impossible. That¡¯s not even a day to solve this,¡± I whispered angrily.


    ¡°Any minute longer puts you closer to death,¡± he said quietly, before smiling and blowing me a kiss. He then rushed toward the shady side of the road.


    I watched as he turned the corner and was out of sight.


    Closer to death? Did Mab send him to kill me if I didn¡¯t solve the case fast enough? That just didn¡¯t seem fair.


    It was then that I noticed something uncomfortable on my ring finger. Looking down, I saw a thick, gaudy, silver ring with a diamond as big as my knuckle and sharp, pale blue gems along the side. When I tried to pull my new silver shackle off, it felt as though it got a little tighter.


    ¡°FUCKING FAERIES!¡±

 Chapter 2

    Chapter 2


    Making my way back to the van, I grumbled to myself and tried to remember the few things my mom taught me about the Fae. They hated iron, they loved music, and they definitely played by a set of rules, even if I didn¡¯t fully understand them. All Fae had a purpose. I just had to figure out what it was to understand them. The ring was a nuisance, a big one. I doubted even if I cut my finger off that it would come off. I had to find out Jack¡¯s purpose and what the ring was all about, but I also had a job to do and not a lot of time to do it.


    Chen sat himself next to me, trying to make small-talk about my fiance. I didn¡¯t want to engage much. The more questions I answered, the more lies I had to remember.


    ¡°You two meet in college? He¡¯s a looker. And he moved all the way here with you?¡± Chen asked.


    ¡°Mhmm,¡± was all I could manage in response, while I flipped through the images on my camera again to see if I missed something.


    ¡°Does he have any cute gay friends? Just kidding, or maybe not.¡± Chen giggled and another coworker, Lopes, rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Maybe, let me get your number,¡± I passed my phone to Chen. I figured it would be enough to pacify him and keep him occupied for a bit, so I could think.


    My mind was murky having slept the best I could on an airplane before starting my first day of work. I hadn¡¯t even checked out the apartment the faeries secured for me, but I guess I wouldn¡¯t be needing it. Apparently I had to solve this case tonight.


    ¡°I could use an iced coffee,¡± I said more to myself than to the others in the van, but Lopes sat up straight in response.


    ¡°Ooh, great idea, Newbie!¡± Lopes said, while knocking her fist on the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Hey, Stevens, let¡¯s go for a coffee run!¡±


    Stevens shook his head. ¡°Ask an officer. I can¡¯t roll the van out until we¡¯ve bagged all the evidence.¡±


    ¡°Better get to it, Chen. I want my coffee,¡± Lopes said, ¡°and beignets!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a beignet?¡± I asked.


    The others laughed.


    Chen placed my phone next to me and threw his hands up dramatically. ¡°Maybe I can get Lacroix to finish up.¡± He slid open the van door, hitting us with a wave of hot air as he left.


    Thinking back to the details of the murder, I wondered if there might have been a clue to the culprit. The murder had happened overnight. For a city that supposedly never slept, there weren¡¯t any witnesses as far as we knew. I could stop by the houses nearby and ask if they saw anything, even if the police already did so. They might tell me a detail that a police officer would dismiss as being too crazy.


    It was then that I noticed something strange about the pictures, or the background of the pictures. There were plenty of onlookers gawking at the scene from the sides of the police barricade and all of the uniformed officers, but somehow, one person had gone past the police tape unnoticed. She was wearing a knit dress with big, flowy sleeves, and her hair was done into long dreadlocks that reached all the way to her ankles.


    ¡°Hey, Lopes, who¡¯s this?¡± I asked, turning my camera screen so she could get a good look.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s Madam De LaClare. She weasels her way into everything ¡®round here,¡± Lopes said.


    ¡°Did they ask her about the murder?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yeah, she didn¡¯t know who did it, but said there was a miasma of evil hanging over the scene,¡± Lopes said.


    ¡°You believe in that crap?¡± Stevens asked without turning around to look at her.


    ¡°No, but I tend to avoid miasmas when given the option.¡±


    Taking out my phone, I looked up Madam De LaClare. She had a magic shop right on Bourbon Street. Perfect to pick up tourists for overpriced fortunes and trinkets. The apartment the faeries set up for me was above a beignet shop, whatever that was, and it was on the way. I could probably drop by both places before lunch was over and get back to the station. Although I didn¡¯t like the idea of walking through the heat, I didn¡¯t have time to waste.


    ¡°I think I¡¯m gonna go get some lunch while we¡¯re waiting and meet you back at the station,¡± I said. ¡°Can I leave the camera with you?¡±


    Lopes sucked her teeth. ¡°Y¡¯all Northerners in such a rush. We¡¯re gettin¡¯ paid to sit here ya know? Suit yourself. Pack the camera up and leave it here. You can pick it up back at the station. Have a good lunch with that skinny-boy fiance of yours. Maybe he¡¯ll pick up a tan living down here.¡±


    I tucked the camera into its protective container and packed it away in the van. Right before I got out, Lopes yelled my name.


    ¡°Take this,¡± she said and threw what looked like a clear plastic bag at me.


    ¡°A garbage bag?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s a poncho, trust me, you¡¯ll need it,¡± she said.


    ¡°Uh¡­thanks.¡± I stuffed the bag under my arm and headed outside.


    I immediately regretted my decision. The heat was oppressive. As the sun beared down on me, I didn¡¯t think there was a single cloud in the sky. My Irish skin was not going to do well here. Lopes should have given me sunblock or a hat instead of a piece of plastic. While looking at the directions on how to get to my apartment, I tripped on the uneven sidewalk and just barely got my feet underneath me in time to keep from falling flat.


    As I scanned out into the distance, I could see multiple mounds like the one I had tripped over and what looked like sea shells scattered around it. I then recalled that there had been serious flooding in that area before, and it likely caused the ground to buckle. When I got to the end of the sidewalk, there was a mural made with tiles to tell you the name of the road. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Note to self, look down.


    I could feel the sweat dripping down the back of my shirt now, but it made no difference since my entire body felt drenched from the moment I stepped outside. At least tying my dark hair back into a bun behind my head provided a little relief. When I arrived at the station this morning, still wearing my jeans and t-shirt from the trip, I felt out of place compared to the business attire the rest of the Forensic staff was wearing, but now I was entirely overdressed. I made it about ten more feet before a man wearing copious NOLA paraphernalia stepped into my way. This was the first place I had ever been where the locals wore hats and shirts with the name of the city they lived in like they were permanent tourists.


    ¡°Hey, I know where you got them shoes,¡± he said in the gravelly voice of a long-time smoker.


    ¡°Huh?¡± It was such a strange way to start a conversation that I wasn¡¯t sure how to respond. I couldn¡¯t even remember where I got my shoes.


    ¡°On your feet!¡± He said and held his hand out.


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said while reaching into my pocket to see if I had any cash. I had left my bags at the police station to go to the scene quickly. As I pulled out a ten, I eyed the guy and said, ¡°hey, how did you know I wasn¡¯t from around here?


    ¡°You¡¯re walkin¡¯ on one side, not crossin¡¯ to the shade.¡±


    Note to self 2. Cross the road to walk in the shade.


    Holding the bill up, I asked, ¡°you know Madam De LaClare?¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± he said, eyeing the cash hungrily.


    ¡°Does she do walk-in appointments?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes, mam, but you don¡¯t want none of that. She¡¯s all doom and gloom. I could tell ya yer fortune.¡± He smiled to reveal multiple missing teeth.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather enjoy the mystery,¡± I said, and I handed him the ten. ¡°You hear anything about the dead guy up there?¡± I asked.


    The smile disappeared. ¡°Which one?¡±


    Before I could respond, he had slipped the ten into his pocket and took off down an alley.


    By the time I reached the beignet shop, I was soaking wet and thoroughly regretted my decision to walk. The shop was cool enough to provide a slight relief. The shopkeeper was an older, balding man in a stained apron. Something about his face looked vaguely aquatic to me. His eyes were a little too far apart, reminding me of a frog.


    ¡°I¡¯m in the apartment upstairs,¡± I told him, trying not to stare at his unnatural facial features.


    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± he said in a thick accent that I couldn¡¯t place. He pointed at a door on the other side of the shop and then handed me a paper to-go bag.


    ¡°Oh? How much?¡± I asked, but he just kept pointing at the door and smiling. I wasn¡¯t sure if there was a miscommunication going on or if it was some faerie shenanigans, but I had given the guy on the street my only cash, so I decided not to dwell on it.


    I thanked him, and pushed through the doorway to find a stairwell. At the top of one flight, there was a door with the apartment number ¡°333¡± on it. Faeries and their sets of threes. I didn¡¯t have a key, so I twisted the knob and found it unlocked.


    Inside, I was greeted with a bright open room. Skylight windows with hanging plants and a jungle of various shrubs lining them surrounded multi-colored rugs and comfy looking furniture. The a/c was cranking through the vents, making it a comfortable temperature in the artsy studio apartment. There was a thick smell of coffee heating in a pot in the adjoining kitchen. Maybe I didn¡¯t have to leave quite so soon.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dark that didn¡¯t fit the general ambiance of the room. It was a pair of black, leather boots next to the doorway. When I heard movement from the other side of the room, I involuntarily let out an unflattering noise and flung everything I was holding in the general direction of the sound.


    Jack was standing before me, without a shirt on and a towel hanging around his neck. The paper bag I threw puffed open, covering him in white powdered sugar while the plastic poncho Lopes had given me slowly lilted to the floor by my feet. He blinked, completely flabbergasted by what had just occurred.


    Trying not to crack a smile, I couldn¡¯t help but think he looked like one of those sad clown paintings.


    ¡°I take it those were my beignets?¡± He asked.


    ¡°What are you doing here?!¡±


    ¡°Well, I was taking a cold shower. I can¡¯t be in the heat that long,¡± he said. ¡°Now, I may have to just start over.¡±


    ¡°I have questions for you, a lot of questions,¡± I said with my hands on my hips.


    ¡°Let me wipe this off and get a shirt on, unless you¡¯d rather I left it off,¡± he grinned at me. He was starting to make the white powder look stylish with his faerie wiles.


    Luckily, I was impervious to Fae enchantments, due to being part Fae myself. I hadn¡¯t inherited any magic from my mom, but at least I didn¡¯t go all googly-eyed over every beautiful faerie that crossed my path. The faeries, of course, hated this.


    I glared at Jack with as much intensity as I could muster. ¡°I¡¯ll be over there when you¡¯re ready.¡±


    I went over to the attached kitchen to eye the coffee. The idea of caffeine was enticing, but not the heat. When I popped the fridge, I discovered a plethora of fresh fruit and vegetables. Someone was clearly living in this apartment.


    ¡°I thought this was where I was supposed to be staying,¡± I yelled across the room, but as I closed the fridge, I was startled to see Jack on the other side. At least he had a shirt on.


    ¡°Yes, there¡¯s only one bed, though,¡± he said and winked.


    ¡°Ok, cut the Fae charm crap right now. It doesn¡¯t work on me, and it¡¯s just annoying,¡± I said while grabbing a coffee mug from a rack on the counter and pouring myself a cup.


    ¡°That sort of ruins the fun for both of us, doesn¡¯t it?¡± He asked, ¡°may I?¡± and pointed to the coffee.


    I shrugged at him assuming he also wanted a cup, but instead he grabbed my cup and I watched as frost formed crystals on the sides, cooling the coffee inside. I watched in awe. Now that was a neat party trick.


    ¡°Ok, why are you here, and what the hell is this ring you put on me?¡± I asked him while adding milk and sugar to the iced coffee.


    ¡°You are so direct. I really like that in a mortal,¡± he said.


    Glaring at him, I said, ¡°I¡¯m about to go find a hardware store and decorate this place with iron chains.¡±


    ¡°Woah, woah. O.K. No need to do anything hasty. Let¡¯s have a sit in the living room and chat,¡± he said and headed over to the couch. His long stride got him there in two steps.


    I made my way over to one of the chairs and sipped the iced coffee.


    Once we were sitting, he opened the crumpled bag of beignets, and placed a pastry on each plate in front of us. My stomach growled angrily at me. It was lunchtime afterall. Although I knew the rule against accepting food from the Fae, I had seen where this food came from, and I was already working for them anyway.


    Jack¡¯s too-blue eyes were fixed on his coffee cup which he was cradling to his chest with both hands while he admitted, ¡°I¡¯m not here to help you with the case.¡±

 Chapter 3

    My mouth was open to say all manner of expletives, but the cool coffee was providing me with a bit more patience than I had when I walked into the room.


    ¡°You¡¯re here to help me,¡± he continued.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been here for almost a month. The body you saw wasn¡¯t the first, but it¡¯s the first the police found. I don¡¯t know what did this, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s the Fae,¡± he said.


    ¡°Wait, back up,¡± I said, about to put the coffee down on the wooden table without a coaster. Then, deciding I couldn¡¯t even be that kind of person when I was angry, I found a napkin nearby and slid it underneath.


    Jack was watching me with more than a hint of amusement on his youthful face.


    ¡°How many bodies? Why don¡¯t you think it¡¯s Fae? I need to know all of the evidence you have, who you¡¯ve talked to, everything. And what¡¯s this ring about?¡± My head was swimming with questions, but I knew I wouldn¡¯t trust the answers coming from Jack.


    ¡°Three. Same M.O: eviscerated, ceremonial knife with brass handle, pupils missing, pile of jewelry. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s Fae. It just doesn¡¯t feel like something we¡¯d do is all.¡±


    ¡°Your feeling isn¡¯t enough to rule out the Fae,¡± I said plainly.


    ¡°Mab didn¡¯t think so either. She¡¯s giving me until sundown to bring her real evidence, and that¡¯s where you come in. I called you here, set you up with the job, not her, but I couldn¡¯t have you running off once I told you it was me, so I sealed the deal with the ring. Our fates are one until the job is over.¡± When he said this, the room felt colder.


    ¡°You¡¯re an asshole,¡± I said.


    Jack shrugged. His boyish good looks likely helped him get away with a lot of nonsense. Most of his features came to a point from the tip of his nose to his cheekbones and chin. His skin was pale and free from any blemish or stubble, reminding me more of an ice sculpture than a living person.


    At least, I always worked well under pressure. Then it hit me. Jack had made it seem as though I had to figure the whole case out tonight, but that may not be the situation. ¡°Wait, did she say you had to solve it by tomorrow or you just need evidence?¡± I asked.


    Jack sat very still for a minute as if he really were frozen until he clapped his hands together while grinning like a child at a candy store. ¡°She said I needed evidence that my hunch was correct by sundown or the game was through.¡±


    ¡°What game?¡±


    Jack leapt into the air, sloshing coffee out of his cup onto the couch cushions. ¡°You really are a little genius! Just like they say. Mab¡¯s pet¡¯s a sharp one. Evidence will buy us time. Oh, I could kiss you!¡±


    ¡°If you touch me, I will get us both killed out of spite,¡± I said. I had learned my lesson about dating the Fae when I was younger and naive.


    ¡°Sharp and grumpy. Like a cat. Got it,¡± Jack said.


    I decided to ignore his comment. ¡°It may not be as difficult as solving the whole case, but real evidence is not easy to come by. We¡¯re on a tight deadline, and there¡¯s a lot to do. I gotta get back to the office before my lunch break is over, and I¡¯ve already wasted time here. I want to check out Madam De LaClare¡¯s. You have any other leads?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a Fae I¡¯ve been trying to find who has a history of taking eyes. I know he goes to The Wind in the Willows, a bar in the French Quarter, but he¡¯s been ducking me. Maybe if we go there together tonight, he won¡¯t think I¡¯m there for him,¡± Jack said.


    I stood up and popped the beignet into my mouth. I immediately knew what all the talk was about. Those things were delicious.


    ¡°O.K. Let¡¯s go,¡± Jack went to the door and started kicking his boots on.


    ¡°Wait, no. I said I was going to De LaClare¡¯s. I stick out like a wolf in a sheep herd around here, but with you it¡¯s like a whole pack of wolves.¡±


    ¡°Funny how you compared yourself to a predator, but I¡¯m coming with you. There¡¯s a murderer running around, and we¡¯re tied by fate, like I said.¡± He was tying his ankle-high boots without looking at me. ¡°You should get changed before we go.¡±


    ¡°Into what? I left my bags at the station,¡± I said.


    ¡°Check the bedroom,¡± he said.


    I really hated how smug he sounded, but not as much as I wanted to get out of the sticky clothing I had been wearing all morning. The bedroom was the only room, aside from the bathroom, in the apartment. When I opened the door, there was a cozy room with a bed covered in a fluffy comforter, a standing mirror, and a dresser. Draped on top of the bed there was a green sun dress with a wicker hat above it. I imagined it was exactly what someone who would have owned this apartment would wear. It didn¡¯t suit my tastes, but it sure would make me look like a tourist.


    ¡°Where did this come from?¡± I asked while tossing my t-shirt and pants into a pile on the floor and sliding the dress on. It fit a little too well. Luckily it had pockets built into the seams, because even though I¡¯d seen ladies put phones in their bras, it never quite worked for me. Perhaps because I wasn¡¯t quite as well endowed.


    When I gazed into the mirror, I had to admit the dress was tight and loose in all the right places. It managed to give the illusion of me having some sort of a figure. When I placed the straw hat on, it hid how messy my dark hair was coming loose from my braid, but it was too late to save me from getting sunburn on my nose and cheeks. That would turn into even more freckles.


    ¡°Lucky break. A Lutin lives here. He¡¯ll be making meals and leaving gifts for you while you¡¯re here. You¡¯ll probably never see him, but they tend to be short and have beards like gnomes,¡± Jack said.


    I assumed Lutins were like Hobs or little creatures that stayed in a house and fixed shoes and various items.


    After a quick pit stop in the bathroom to try to smell a little less horrible, I was on my way out the door with a lanky shadow on my tail. We went out the back of the apartment and down what appeared to be a fire escape so we wouldn¡¯t have to go back through the beignet shop.


    Crossing the street to the shady side, I silently gave myself props for remembering to walk like a local. In between shops, there were a few palm trees scattered about. This was my first time seeing palm trees, and I had no idea they grew in Louisiana.


    I eyed them excitedly, noticing little green lizards climbing up their trunks. Unable to help myself, I stopped to watch one of the cute little lizards as it crawled down to the patch of dirt the tree had rooted into. Without warning an enormous bullfrog hopped up to the lizard and gulped it down in one bite. I swallowed the uneasy feeling this little, live nature documentary gave me. The bullfrog, reminding me of the shopkeep at the beignet store, snapped me back into the reality that I was in a rush.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    I quickly texted Chen, who informed me that the van was still at the scene, because they decided to wait until the body was taken. He told me to go somewhere nice with my fiance for lunch. Every time someone referred to Jack as my fiance, I had an urge to correct them. This was one lie I was not getting used to.


    At least the phone call eased some of my concern about timing, and it wasn¡¯t long before we found ourselves on Bourbon st. Once we reached it, I realized I could have followed the stench instead of the map on my phone. The entire area wreaked of alcohol, urine and vomit.


    When Jack saw me instinctually cover my face with my hand, he said, ¡°once a week they spray down the roads with honey and lemon. Unfortunately, that day is Tuesday.¡±


    It being Friday, meant we¡¯d have to bear the stench for the entire weekend. Jack passed by me, while I did my best to get accustomed to the smell. Walking slower than his usual pace to allow me to keep up, I wasn¡¯t sure which was brighter, his white hair, white shirt, or skin. I was likely to go blind watching him. He led us past several bars and chachki stores up to a shop with a horse skull in the window and a heavy incense pouring out from the open doors to battle the urine odor. Above the doorway there was a hand-painted sign that read, ¡°De LaClare¡¯s Fortunes,¡± with crescent moons on it.


    Taking the lead again, I made my way up the steps to the front room of the shop. It was a tight space filled with all manner of trinkets. The old floorboards creaked with each step as I examined rows of incense, glass bottles full of liquids of various colors, small animal skulls lining bookshelves, and boxes with dried herbs. Searching quickly over the walls, I stopped when I came across something familiar.


    There was a knife with an intricately carved brass handle and a curved blade up on display. It was high enough to be out of reach of the customers. I stood on my tiptoes to get a better glimpse of it. It was identical to the one I had seen at the crime scene. Next to it, there was a hand-written sign that read: Sold Out.


    A detail popped into my head that I should have realized was odd when Jack said it.


    Just then the floorboards groaned loudly. A thick man with dark skin and a shaved head walked through a beaded curtain. ¡°How can I help you folk?¡± he asked in a deep voice.


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re here visiting, and we were hoping to get our fortunes. Is Madam De LaClare here?¡± I asked while stepping over to Jack and shoving my arm through his.


    ¡°She¡¯s right this way,¡± he pulled back the curtains to allow us to pass through.


    The room inside was dark and pungent. There was even more incense going, and only a few plug-in fans throughout the store to keep the air moving. When we were closer to the man, I could see black lines of tattoos over his dark muscly arms. I wondered how often he accidentally knocked items over trying to get through the narrow aisles of the shop.


    In the small back room, there was a table covered in cloths and the low glow of lanterns. A woman sat at the end, her long dreadlocks were tied up into a bun as large as her head. Her ears had big plug piercings, and jewelry adorned her septum and bridge of her nose. She closed her eyes and mumbled to herself while we walked into the room.


    Suddenly, her eyes sprang open and she said in a Cajun accent, ¡°welcome! So you be wishin¡¯ to hear your fortunes then?¡±


    ¡°That would be great,¡± I smiled at Jack.


    ¡°Good, good. Forty for a readin¡¯, sixty for a fixin¡¯,¡± she said.


    ¡°Go ahead and pay her, dear,¡± I said to Jack between clenched teeth.


    ¡°Of course, darling,¡± Jack pulled two twenties out of his pocket and placed them on the table.


    ¡°Good, good,¡± she closed her eyes and began mumbling again. Then she pulled cards out of her pocket and dropped one onto the table.


    Being unfamiliar with tarot cards, I tried to discern the meaning of the image. It was a dark scene of a person who was made into a pincushion by a bunch of swords.


    ¡°Seven of Swords.¡± She clicked her teeth. After looking from me to Jack, her eyes grew wide and she said in an entirely different accent, ¡°ah, hell no! Aint dealin¡¯ with no mo faeries up in here. Tato, get rid of ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± I stood up, ¡°I just want to know about those daggers. Did one person buy a bunch of them?¡± I put my hands in front of me defensively.


    The floor practically shook as Tato transversed the shop. He reached his hand out to grab Jack by the shoulder, but Jack was ready for him and slipped out of his grasp. Tato¡¯s other hand flew to catch Jack¡¯s arm as Jack leaned backward and slid his foot along the ground, tripping the large man. Tato grabbed onto the curtain of beads, which was not strong enough to support his weight. He came down hard on the floor and the beads showered down around him like a sudden hailstorm.


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I don¡¯t want nothin¡¯ to do with. One of yo Fae-folk came ¡®round and bought ¡®em up. Aint my fault what they got used for,¡± she said.


    By this point Tato was back up and angry. The beads were making a racket rolling around the room. Taro got ahold of Jack¡¯s shirt and tried to lift him off the ground, but Jack caught Tato¡¯s arms.


    ¡°Can you tell me what the Fae looked like?¡± I asked.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a smile forming on Jack¡¯s face and figured it wasn¡¯t a good thing. Tato¡¯s arms were beginning to change color.


    ¡°One of dem bearded folk, the Lutins,¡± she said, now in a mix of accents.


    Tato started screaming. His arms were covered in frost.


    ¡°Let him go already!¡± De LaClare screamed, but I wasn¡¯t sure if she meant Jack or Tato.


    Both complied. Tato backed up, rubbing his arms. Jack held his hands up, ready for another attack.


    ¡°Sorry about all of this,¡± I said, ¡°we¡¯ll pay for the damage.¡±


    I motioned to Jack who shrugged and threw more cash onto the table. All the Fae I knew thought paper money was nonsense and had no qualms spending it. I assumed Jack would be the same.


    Madam De LaClare sighed and waved at Tato. ¡°Go on, get out of here, ya big thug.¡± She then settled back in her seat. ¡°Apology accepted, but you tell the Fae I don¡¯t want to see none of dem ¡®round here ¡®til them killings get sorted. William was a good man. He had his diversions but he was a good man.¡±


    I assumed William was the victim. ¡°Did you know him well?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Well enough to say he deserved better. Now get outta my shop. I gotta fix it up before someone sees this mess.¡± She threw her hands up and grabbed a broom from a set of brooms leaning against the wall. I nodded to Tato apologetically as we left through the thin aisles of the shop. I could have tried to ask De LaClare more about the victim, but I assumed they would have information about him at the station


    When we got outside Jack said, ¡°That could''ve gone better.¡±


    ¡°Could''ve gone worse. At least we have a lead, although it¡¯s a Fae.¡±


    ¡°Not just a Fae, a Lutin. And they are all over New Orleans. Probably give the rats a run for their money.¡± Jack pulled his fingers through his messy hair, and it was instantly perfectly styled.


    ¡°I thought you said Lutins do nice things for people like make food and give gifts?¡± I asked, suddenly feeling self conscious of the frizzy flyaways that slipped out of my braid and would be floating around my head if I removed the sun hat.


    ¡°Unless you do something to get on their bad side and then you''re in for all kinds of trouble,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°The Fae you¡¯re looking for who takes eyes doesn¡¯t happen to be a Lutin, does he?¡± I wondered if the pieces would fall together that easily.


    ¡°No,¡± Jack said, ¡°but he¡¯s a Pooka, mostly a rabbit. But, he¡¯s been known to use the services of Lutin, which is not uncommon around here.¡±


    We walked as we discussed matters. It was starting to think going to the Wind in the Willows bar was going to be our best bet for getting information, but it wasn¡¯t open until the evening. Deep in thought, neither of us was paying much attention to where we were going. When I noticed the water in the distance, I realized we had gotten turned around.


    ¡°Uh, Jack, where are we?¡±


    ¡°I was following you.¡± He laughed and said, ¡°that¡¯s the Mississippi river, so we have to go back the other way.¡±


    ¡°Does the river normally smell so bad?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Must be garbage day over here,¡± he said and motioned to the dumpsters in the alley next to us.


    Without saying anything, I took a few steps into the alley. There was some sort of a restaurant on the other side, but there were several large dumpsters taking up the alley. It smelled so bad that I doubted the employees would even use the space to smoke. The further in I walked, the worse it smelled. The unmistakable, pungent aroma of death was getting stronger with each step. Beside me, Jack covered his face with his shirt.


    Behind the dumpsters, there was a body of a man. His intestines were strewn out beside him and a pile of jewelry was by his pupiless eyes. The body must have been days old; being out in the heat had dried the blood and put the body into an advanced decay.


    Suddenly, the mouth of the body twitched. I turned to Jack to determine if he was seeing what I was. He watched as intently as I did. The face appeared to be moving, but the body was very dead. With a jolt, the mouth popped open and a cockroach about the size of the hope diamond crawled out.


    Jack screeched in a way that sounded exactly like the sound effect for a scream queen in a cheesy slasher flick. He then flung himself into my arms as if I¡¯d be able to lift him let alone catch the dead weight of him passing out.