Yes, I was supposed to update yesterday. Yes, I didn’t. There was a pretty good reason for that – I was in the hospital. I’ve been a little ill this week, which turned into a lot of ill yesterday. While I’m fine now, it screwed my update schedule over. I didn’t even get any writing into my current projects done.
But the show must go on, so now I’m blearily searching my file folders for that story I’m posting and… found it! So here we go:
“Robes? You OK?”
“Hmm? Oh sorry, ghosts coming to visit. Yeah I’m fine, and these two are one hundred percent fake.”
I read the other one that had Red’s forged mark on it.
“We need to find this Mark Desrow, or find out what happened to him, as soon as possible. Might also put a guard on our vic… I don’t know what’s happening here, but I’m pretty sure he was the target now.”
“Already thought of that; he’s got a guard.”
“Yeah but two cops… what he needs is one of us. You want me to request it?”
“I’d rather you do it, yes, your boss is creepier than your summon.”
“Heh, he’s not that bad.” I made the call while the principal made some lame excuse and got out of there as if the bats of hell were chasing him. We followed at a slower pace. My loving boss answered on the eighth ring.
“What do you want?”
“I love you too boss. Hey, can you send Al to protect that new mental patient whose case I’m working on? He’s likely to still be in danger.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s a long story, don’t really want to relate it yet, since I don’t know it all. Can you just send Al please?”
Out of all of us, Al had the most combat experience aside from me, and the strongest summon, me included.
“Fine, fine,. You better have a good reason for this. He’ll be at the hospital inside an hour.”
He hung up before we could exchange the usual pleasantries. Dave shook his head.
“Never ceases to amaze how unprofessional you lot are.”
I twirled the phone a few times before putting it back in my hidden pocket.
“That’s us…and yet we always get the job done…cause we have to.”
“That is still a stupid motto.”
“Esprit de corps Dave, esprit de corps.”
We drove back to the precinct in silence, Dave lost in thought and I lost to boredom. I was fairly sure I already knew what was going on, at least in part. I wouldn’t say just yet though, I could still be wrong. It wouldn’t do to be wrong about an accusation like this one either.
Not that I cared about my career or anything.
“Hey, introspection doesn’t suit you, get your butt out of the car. You can watch me run those checks.”
I got out, following him to the elevator.
“Guess I have to, if I want to make sure they’re done right.”
The age of computers had revolutionized much; Dave was able to determine Mark Desrow had died two weeks ago in Birmingham…a victim of a demon attack. Unfortunately the request we sent for his file and records involving the selection would likely not even be acted on today. Bureaucracy being much more slow than fiber optics.
I passed the time by chucking paper airplanes at the various hard at work detectives. They did not seem appreciative.
After an hour of this I was even more bored.
“What?” He ducked.
“Nah, not that again. Going to go home, get some sleep. Let me know if something breaks, alright?”
“Sure, but why? Day’s not over yet.”
“It is for me, going to spell Al tonight.”
“When did you decide that?”
“Just now…got a hunch.” I always acted on those; they had kept me alive, even when wrong.
I waved to the chief on the way out, just to watch his veins pop.
The drive home was uneventful…the same people pulling over to let you pass, the same looks, the almost fear shown. My place was a state owned apartment building, the oldest in this small city; all brass fixtures and ancient woodwork. My apartment was on the fourth floor, and the elevator was of course broken.
Mildly annoying, but we all had our crosses to bear.
I waved to the guards in the lobby and started up. Met a few summoners, but none I really cared to waste time talking to; the feeling was mutual, as after muttered greeting they left in hurries as great as my own.
The first order of business after I let myself in my modest run down apartment, was a nice stiff drink. Did I need one? Not exactly, but they never hurt.
No television and no reading, just me hitting the bed fully clothed. I set my alarm and stared at the ceiling till blessed oblivion came.