Pure Blood_ A Nocturne City Novel - Caitlin Kittredge [73]
Rick gave me a sympathetic look when I stormed into the precinct house. “She’s waiting for you in her office.”
Oh, this was the last freaking straw. I was a homicide detective, not a juvenile delinquent to be summoned to the principal’s office at her whim. I threw open Morgan’s door. “What!”
She looked furious, all pretense of the cool career woman erased from her pink face. “You are a disgrace!” she barked. “You deserted a crime scene and have repeatedly disobeyed my orders! Hand over your badge and gun and get out of my station!”
I blinked. “You’re firing me?”
Morgan laughed. Not a pleasant laugh, a coyote laugh. Predatory. “You think I’d give you the satisfaction of collecting unemployment after the hell you’ve put the department and the O’Hallorans through? I’m suspending you without pay, pending a psych evaluation.”
Now the truth came out. “Did Seamus O’Halloran put you up to this?”
Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you insinuating, Detective?”
“That Seamus is persuasive,” I said. “Rich, and persuasive.”
Morgan looked at the ceiling, clenching and unclenching her hands like she wanted to put a fist through something. Probably me. “Give me your shield and weapon, Luna.”
“No,” I said, surprising both of us. “No, ma’am, I’m sorry. Seamus O’Halloran is a kidnapper and a killer and if you won’t let me prove it then I respectfully decline to obey your instructions. You’ll just have to suspend me by force. Ma’am.”
The flush went out of Morgan’s cheeks and she shook her head at me. “Un-freaking-believable,” she muttered. We both stood there, she at a loss, until I stepped back into the hall and quickly walked away before Morgan could collect herself. McAllister caught me by the bullpen.
“What the Hex happened?”
“I think I’m suspended,” I said, “but that part wasn’t real clear.”
Mac heaved a sigh. “Again?” Suspending me had been one of former Captain Roenberg’s favorite hobbies.
“Looks that way,” I said. “Listen, I’m headed up to Basin Lake. Sorry to have caused you all this trouble.”
Mac stopped me with a hand. “Why are you going after Seamus O’Halloran, Luna? I know third-world dictators who are afraid of the guy.”
“Because he’s gotten away with enough,” I said. “He’s a nasty, evil old man and he thinks just because he can make a little magick shift into this realm we should all cower. There’s that and the whole murder thing.”
“You know,” said Mac, chewing on the end of an unlit cigarette. “You’re a lot of things, Luna, but I’ve never known you to be wrong. Go. I’ll call in some backup and notify the Hilltop County sheriff.”
Concern flooded me. The last time Mac had gone to bat for one of my cases, he’d wound up nearly jobless and dead. “You could lose your pension over this, Mac.”
“Hell, I’m planning to live on a boat in Florida and fish all day.” He grinned. “What do I need a Hexed pension for?”
It had been a long case, and my inhibitions were shot to hell, so I hugged Mac hard, whispered, “Thank you,” and ran back to the idling Fairlane.
CHAPTER 22
Basin Lake appears in flashes at first, like a ghost you can only glimpse in the corner of your eye. The main highway is a two-lane terror of twists and switchbacks leading up the spine of the mountains, and I never slowed below fifty-five the whole way. Occasionally I could spot the black inkblot shape of the SWAT team’s Bell Huey through the evergreens, but otherwise I was alone in the forest.
At last I rounded the final turn into the congealed clump of gas station and general store that passed as a resort town, and saw the lake spread out below me, the relic of a long-ago cataclysm, now ironically serene and bluer than it had a right to be, considering the situation.
In one direction, the road led to a public boat launch. The other was blocked off by a tastefully rustic wooden gate bearing a tastefully rustic sign that read PRIVATE.
The SWAT helicopter swooped overhead and banked. My radio crackled. “Seventy-six, this is Tactical One.”
I