Outside the Circle Mystery: Boxed Set Books 4-6: Outside the Circle Mystery, #2

​​​​Chapter One

Abbie sat staring dumbfounded at a package she’d set on her friend Judith’s kitchen table. Early this morning, Abbie’s mum had dropped it off on the doorstep.

Judith and Abbie, as a police officer and an EMT, respectively, were essential workers. So, with COVID restrictions in place, to reduce the risk of exposing their loved ones to the virus, they changed living arrangements.

Judith’s Granny Chan took Abbie’s place in her cottage at St. Michael’s cottage, agreeing to look after Abbie’s kids, while Abbie moved in with Judith. This also meant Abbie couldn’t see her mother or her kids face-to-face or hug them for weeks.

This morning, she spoke to her mother through the closed front door and then waved a forlorn goodbye.

Normally, that door would have opened of its own accord when a recognized guest arrived. However, after Granny Chan moved out, this witch’s house stopped acting like a magical construction. No doors opened on their own. No chairs shifted to make room. No lights turned on by themselves.

Abbie took the package to the kitchen to study it while finishing her morning cuppa, manually opening and closing doors. The package seemed ordinary enough except for the return address written in eerily familiar handwriting.

This writing reminded her of Lila Baker’s scrolly script. Except, Lila had been dead for over a year. So, how could this package, written by Lila, be mailed from her recently deceased friend’s London address?

Abbie observed the package with bittersweet longing and rising unrest. She hadn’t thought about that name or address since Lila died after a double-decker exploded with Abbie’s EMT teammates on it. Frantic questions now flew through her mind, as debris had flown by then.

Could Lila still be alive? There’d been a memorial held for her and the others not four months ago. How then could Lila have sent Abbie this?

Was this another bomb?

Alarm shot up her spine. She jumped up and backed away from the table, tapping her pen-ring on her left hand. Arthur, shields up.

The ring’s magical vibration spread over her protectively, giving Abbie a modicum of comfort. With a trembling hand, she picked up the package and felt along its flap for a wire that might signal this was a bomb. The package seemed normal.

Still, she cautiously left the kitchen with it and strode to the center of the back garden. If there was a blast, she didn’t want to damage Judith’s family home.

She shook the packet and heard a rattle, as if a small object bounced within. Slowly, girding herself for a detonation, she pried open the envelope.

No bang. Breathing a sigh of relief, she checked inside and spotted a wooden matchbox. Tipping it out, she pulled out its tiny drawer. Nestled within was a small thumb drive. No accompanying note.

She had the urge to run back into the house and slip it into her laptop to see what Lila had gifted her. She squashed the destructive impulse to plug an unknown computer key into her laptop and inadvertently infect it with a virus.

Instead, she pulled out her mobile and called Talin. He was her tech-savvy friend and an electromagnetic wizard, to boot.

Within a half-hour, a car engine roared outside. Abbie hurried out wearing a mask and stood on the landing. Talin parked beside Rosie, her coral-red Renault hatchback.

Sup? he asked with a friendly smile, approaching. He had on his uniform and mask, so he must have been on his way to work. He often spent his mornings having breakfast with his auntie before heading out for his afternoon shift.

He wasn’t part of Abbie’s support bubble, so she couldn’t request the hug she so badly wanted. She silently pointed to Rosie’s bonnet where she’d left the matchbox.

His mobile pinged. He checked it. My auntie. One mo.

He absently shoved the matchbox into his pocket and frowned at his mobile in silence.

Abbie called out, Anything wrong?

Auntie Niara’s in trouble. Spinning, he sprinted to his car, shouting over his shoulder, Have to go.

Wait, Abbie said, running after him, Can I help?

Without replying, Talin backed his car up and sped off.

Her Grimm instinct pricked her neck and, without hesitation, Abbie jumped into Rosie to follow him.

Talin drove at breakneck speed down the drive, then turned up the lane, heading east. Having grown up with three brothers, one of whom was a speed demon, Abbie had no trouble keeping up. But what had rattled Talin? He was normally a laid-back, calm fellow.

The longer this chase lasted, the more certain she became that something terrible must have happened.

Soon, a siren sounded at her rear. Understandable, considering they’d been zigzagging around traffic along narrow streets and taking sharp corners.

By the time Talin pulled into a street leading to an old power station, Abbie had lost the police vehicle trailing her.

As she drove through the wide-open gates, she became truly worried.

This power station had been out of service for years.

With a screech of tires, Talin parked his vehicle haphazardly across two parking spots and raced away.

Abbie slid Rosie into a nearby spot, pausing long enough to grab her first aid kit. If his auntie was in trouble, she might need medical help.

Heart thudding in concern, she ran after him.

She sped around the side of a building, only to come to a skidding halt at finding Talin bent over a woman lying before its closed front doors.

The dark-skinned lady wore a cheerful flowery dress, but she lay too still for this scene to be good news.

Abbie hurried toward them and peered around Talin to see the woman’s face, and then, engulfed in horror, she instinctively glanced away. She’d seen some gruesome scenes in her EMT career, but never anything like this.

Taking a calming breath, Abbie forced herself to face this victim. Talin slumped on the paved walkway over the woman, tears streaming down his face.

From his earlier frantic message about his auntie and his current stark reaction, this must be his Auntie Niara. Abbie’s heart broke for his pain.

She inched closer to Talin, and the body stretched out before him. Someone had crushed Niara Fisher’s face, leaving it unrecognizable. Blood and gruesome bits of brain matter were exposed. Whoever had assaulted this poor woman had been vicious, striking multiple times.

She no longer needed Abbie’s medical help.

Abbie went through her EMT routine anyway, checking for life signs. The body was still warm, but there wasn’t a pulse. No sound of a breath. No chest movements.

A quick downward check showed Niara’s limbs were in a natural position. The dress she wore came down to below her knees, above stockings, and sensible shoes.

Abbie noted all those details in a sweeping glance before she met Talin’s gaze.

He returned her look with one of utter shock. Then, throwing back his head, he let out the most heart-wrenching howl. The sky thundered in response to his cries.

She glanced up in surprise and concern. There wasn’t a cloud visible on this June day. Yet everywhere, in synch with Talin’s wails, rumbles of thunder reverberated in her ears, and flashes of lightning crisscrossed the sky, blinding her as it swept down to embrace her friend.

Talin, she shouted. Had he heard her above the cacophony?

He hadn’t. Frightening rivers of energy flowed over and around Talin as if he’d been engulfed by an electric storm.

It was only thanks to Abbie’s shield that she wasn’t fried by the hot flow of electrical currents. She’d forgotten to ask Arthur to stand down after she’d raised her shields earlier while examining her unexpected package.

Listen to me, she shouted, desperate to get through to him past his torment.

Unheeding her call, he continued to scream in pain.

She reached through that energy field, which spit at her touch, and took hold of his arms to shake him. Stop this.

His head flopped down, cries heaving within him.

Abbie’s shield separated them too much to hug him, she could barely touch his arms for a second or two. Yet, without Arthur’s protection, she wouldn’t be alive.

I’m sorry about your auntie, Talin, she shouted, but you must get a hold of yourself. At his continued cries, she shook him again. Talin!

Finally, he hiccupped and looked at her with teary eyes.

I’m sorry, she said, deeply torn by his uncontrollable sorrow. His auntie was as close to him as his mother had once been. You deserve time to grieve, Talin, but you must stop for now. For a little while. Can you do that?

He nodded.

Noting the thick cloud of electricity that still hummed around him and the thunder and lightning that continued to blanket the sky, she said, Take a deep breath.

He took a short, shaky one.

Had the electrical grid around him thinned? The thunder sounded less intense and the flashing-light bombardments were further apart.

Another, she said, holding their eye contact.

He complied with a shuddering breath, pulling off his mask as if he were having a hard time breathing through it.

And another, she said.

He was quieter now. She was still stunned by the amount of power Talin wielded in his grief. She doubted he realized what he’d generated around him and across the skies.

Over the lessening thunder, sirens pealed. Had the police car that trailed her tracked her down? She hoped so. They needed help. Then the sirens faded away and Abbie sighed with disappointment.

Talin, we have to call in this incident.

He covered his face and moaned, but then nodded. I should do it.

No, stay with your auntie. Abbie pulled out her mobile. I’ll call Judith. Her mobile refused to turn on. If she walked away from the electrical chaos surrounding Talin, would her mobile work again? She didn’t want to leave his side, but forced herself to stand.

I won’t leave her, he cried, leaning over his auntie’s torso, as if afraid Abbie planned to pull him away, too.

I’ll be right back. She stepped around the building, but her mobile still wouldn’t work. She might have to find help herself. But would her car work any better than her mobile?

She ran to Rosie to check.

Abbie couldn’t even get a sputter from the engine. At a loss on what to do next, she headed back toward Talin, keeping a wary eye on the sky. There was the occasional rumble, as if the world still held a grudge about Talin’s Auntie Niara’s murder.

She was halfway between the car park and the building’s front entrance when a startling idea occurred, halting her steps. Her Grimm cord had proven it could act as an effective communication tool. Could it do so again?

She’d only ever used it with those within touching distance. If she focused her intention on Judith, though, could it contact her, long-distance? Worth a try. She straightened her forefinger.

The cord shot out a bit from the tip. Yes?

I need to reach Judith, Abbie said. See if you can contact her. If you can reach her, tell her where I am and that Talin and I need her help. We... she walked over until she could see him.

He held his auntie’s hand while he rocked back and forth.

Tell her what’s happened, she whispered.

Her cord quivered in acknowledgment.

"How did you do that?" Judith’s astonished voice spoke into Abbie’s troubled thoughts.

Abbie stood stunned by the swift connection.

Never mind, Judith said before Abbie could reply. An ambulance will be delayed. There’s a blackout across Kent. The local power grid’s down. Nothing is working.

Nothing? Abbie asked.

No street lights. Or communication signals. Traffic is backed up on every street. Some vehicles died and required jump-starting. Every police officer is run-off-their-feet busy.

Do you know what caused this mess? Abbie asked, glancing at the sky in concern.

The problem seems centered on Richborough, and lessening extending outward.

As she suspected. That’s where she and Talin were located. His breakdown must be responsible for this widespread blackout. What else could have created such an electrical mess?

Talin is likely the cause, Abbie said, continuing her cord-assisted mind-talk. I’m working on calming him down.

Judith went silent, absorbing Abbie’s astonishing words. I’ll be there as soon as I’m able, she finally said. And Abbie.

Yes.

Keep him calm before this electrical storm affects pacemakers and hospital equipment. If it hasn’t already. Hard to tell since phones are down.

Roger that! Abbie replied, gobsmacked at that horrendous idea. People could die if she failed to keep Talin calm. She returned to his side, reeling from that dire consequence.

As an EMT, it was Abbie’s job to save lives. Right now, the best way she could do that was to keep Talin calm.

She sat beside him and said, Help is coming.

He didn’t reply.

While they waited, she physically checked Niara Fisher’s body. Talin’s auntie hadn’t sustained any broken bones from her shoulders on down. Her face had taken the brunt.

Abbie shivered. What fury must have been behind this horrendously violent assault!

After a while, she noticed how the noise level had dropped significantly and all felt ominously quiet. Looking around nervously, she belatedly requested Arthur to extend his protection over Talin, too.

He glanced around as if startled. What was that?

Arthur’s magic must feel different from his electrical surges. Interesting. A little protection until Judith arrives.

Oh, no, he said, jumping up, fists clenched. I haven’t secured the area. How could I have forgotten my duty?

The skies rumbled and a threatening blast of lightning flashed across the sky.

There’s nothing to secure. Abbie scrambled up and forcibly dragged him into her hold. She had to keep him calm. There’s no one here but us.

With her protection around them both, even if someone lurked nearby, they were now safe. I was simply adding a precautionary shield. That’s all. Now take a deep breath.

He shuddered and slumped against her. Why, Abbie? he asked. Why would she do this to my auntie?

She? Did he have a suspect in mind? Lots of questions rose in Abbie to ask Talin. Except, this was not the time to talk about the murderer, whoever it might be.

We’ll find out who did this and why in time, Talin. Now, why don’t we wait for the ambulance in the car park?

No! he shouted. I’m not leaving Auntie. He slumped beside his auntie, taking her hand in his again.

Abbie gave up arguing and sat beside him, placing her arm around his back in comfort, and she received a shock. She withdrew. The most important role she could play right now was to keep Talin calm.

Soon, the thunder stopped rumbling and lightning no longer streaked across the sky in a frenzy. Then the electrical buzz around Talin reduced enough that she could take his hand without giving herself an electric shock.

Into that silence, her distracted gaze fell on his auntie’s bosom. Something was not right there. The woman’s chest looked lumpy in the wrong places. Had the assailant assaulted her there? Was that a rib sticking up? Why were no large bloodstains soaking through there then?

Talin, something’s odd around your auntie’s chest area. I want to check there. Abbie leaned forward, but he blocked her from getting closer to his auntie, moaning, No!

Abbie simply held him.

Into the silence that followed, he took a shaky breath and released an odd, strangulated laugh. Auntie always joked that her cleavage was her second purse.

Talin sobbed against her and Abbie rubbed his back, making soothing sounds, her heart aching at his loss.

She would hide the weirdest things there, he said, veering between laughter and cries. Keys. Pen. She even pulled out her mobile from there once.

If she has a mobile there, I want to see it, Abbie said.

Gently but firmly, she moved Talin aside. Pulling down her sleeve so she wouldn’t leave fingerprints, Abbie gently reached inside Niara’s cleavage. Her fingers found a metallic object, not a broken rib. Good.

With his eyes shut tight, Talin asked, What did you find?

Abbie used her other sleeve to flick across the screen. It’s your auntie’s mobile but, like mine, it’s not working.

With a disappointed sigh, she tucked it back inside Niara’s cleavage. The police might need it in case it had information about whom Niara had come here to meet.

As she withdrew her hand, her fingers scraped by a hard piece of paper. Taking that out, she scanned it.

This business card is for eOrbit, she said. Its slogan read, Time to find your ideal partner. Sounds like a dating site.

She had a virtual first date this morning, Talin said. She should be home drinking coffee and waiting for his call. That’s why she canceled our breakfast today.

Could he have asked her to meet him here, in person?

No, Talin murmured. I asked auntie about that when she told me about her date. He gave a deep sigh. In-person meetings were against the agency’s COVID rules. His teary gaze met hers. I need help to find out who did this, Abbie.

It looks like a straightforward murder case, she began with caution. Abbie left such events for the police to resolve. Her specialty was supernatural shenanigans that might require a Grimm’s special touch.

He shook his head. It’s not!

What do you mean? she asked, glancing at Niara. This murder was brutal. Senseless even. But not unnatural.

Talin tilted his head towards his auntie’s face. That is the work of Mama D’leau. I hear her name in my head, over and over. It’s also all over the net. Rumors fly that she’s on the move. His head dropped to rest on Abbie’s shoulder. Everyone’s shouting her name.

Mama...? Abbie asked.

D’leau, he murmured. A vengeful spirit, known to disorient her victims in the woods and then kill them.

We’re not in the woods, Abbie said, cautiously, because she didn’t want to argue. Not in Talin’s current emotional state. Is blunt force her MO?

No, he murmured, sounding confused. She usually drowns her victims or throws them over cliffs. Why would she attack my auntie like this? Also, Mama D’leau usually goes after blokes. She’s known for punishing faithless Trini men.

Of Trinidad ancestry? Abbie said, frowning, trying to piece together a motive.

He nodded, looking devastated.

Abbie’s heart squeezed with compassion. Now his initial horror and anger were wearing off, Talin was slipping into shock. Which might explain his latest strange theory.

She understood how his mind went there, though. His Auntie Niara was his strongest tie to Trinidad. They both had a connection to that country’s people and culture.

About to ask, What would this Trini spirit be doing in England? Abbie swallowed back the question. She could check Klaus later, her book of Grimm tales.

She held up the card instead. There’s a handwritten name on this, she said, to distract him. Do you know this man?

Blinking back tears, he flashed the card a glance and then shook his head. Too much noise, he whispered. Too much chatter. Make it stop, Abbie.

All had gone quiet. There were no babbling voices. Whatever Talin heard happened inside his head. Not good.

DSI Callum Radford, Judith and Talin’s boss, was also Talin’s uncle. His older sister had married a Trinidadian, Talin’s father. Considering that close family connection, officers outside of the Chipstead nick might be called to investigate this case.

Better if she wasn’t caught holding this card.

Sirens suddenly sounded closer.

Must be Judith, she whispered in comfort.

Using her sleeve as before, Abbie tucked the card back within his auntie’s bosom.

Abbie had barely finished putting the card back when Judith raced around the building with Ducky. Help was here.

After Judith inspected the crime scene, she sent Ducky to their car to report this incident using their shortwave radio. Her partner looked ashen. The sight of blood always made him queasy. Poor Ducky.

He ran away as if Mama D’leau was chasing him.

Once Ducky was out of sight and hearing, ignoring social distancing, Judith gave Talin the biggest hug, which started him quietly sobbing again.

Chapter Two

I’m so sorry, Talin, Judith said. Your Auntie Niara didn’t deserve this. We’ll find and bring the culprit to justice and maybe bring the hurt to them.

Abbie shook her head in warning, afraid Talin might go off again about Mama D’leau, but he remained quiet. Had he realized he could be wrong about that theory?

After a while, he sat back down, taking his auntie’s hand.

Judith and Abbie stepped away to speak privately.

Once the lightning storm broke, we started up some systems, her friend said. Cars and independent gasoline-powered units were the easiest to restart. The grid is still down, including HOLMES.

The police database was down? Fearing the worst, Abbie asked, How about the hospitals?

Most of their equipment had backup systems that started and, thankfully, have kept things working, Judith said.

Abbie sighed, the tension at her back dissipating.

None of the smaller batteries seem to have been affected, either, Judith continued. Those in torches and remotes. Mobiles are iffy. Some work. Some don’t.

Thank heavens, Abbie said, her thoughts on pacemakers.

Ducky returned with several people. A police van and an ambulance had arrived. After consultation with a doctor on the shortwave radio, the EMT on call declared Talin’s auntie dead, and the ambulance transported her to the morgue.

The SCD, the Serious Crime Directorate’s Major Crimes Unit, is in charge of this case, Judith said as she ushered Abbie and Talin over to a police unit. Then she leaned in and whispered to Abbie, Say the minimum.

Before long, they arrived at a gray concrete building with windows on the upper floors. Inside, the ground floor walls were bare. She rarely saw anyone pass by. This place, which should have been humming with activity, was a tomb.

What made it even more bizarre were the lights flickering down every corridor they passed. That widespread blackout Judith mentioned must have affected this building, too.

They separated them, taking Talin down another corridor.

She called out, Everything will be fine.

No talking! her PC said, leaving Abbie frustrated.

Where is everyone? she asked. This absence of people couldn’t all be because of the blackout, could it? Judith had mentioned that many officers worked from home these days because of the COVID lockdown. The combination left this building deserted.

Ignoring her, the PC opened a door to an interview room with a flickering fluorescent tube above. He placed his unlit torch on the table for her to use if needed, and left her alone, shutting the door.

Inside the interview room, a rectangular table had four chairs arranged two to a side. A clear plexiglass partition stretched lengthwise across the table. Probably a COVID precaution. Abbie sat and knocked on the divider. Reinforced? It was spotless. Except for her knuckle prints.

Besides the torch, a box of tissues and a hand sanitizer rested on the table. Opposite her, a TV screen was affixed to the wall. It was off or no longer working. Was that why they dragged her and Talin—both mere witnesses—to this deserted headquarters? Because remote questioning was impossible?

Good questions, Robert said from beside her.

Abbie kept her face and eyes still. Hard to do when she wanted to smile like an idiot at having her ghostly BFF beside her again. She treasured his company, and if she could have, she would have turned and hugged him.

Although there weren’t any threats of COVID contamination at embracing Robert, she was fairly certain that someone could watch her through a CCTV camera. If it was still working. Even if it wasn’t, she didn’t want to take any chances of it recording Abbie enthusiastically hugging thin air.

Shall I check on Mr. Higgins? Robert’s voice gentled, as if he sensed her elation at his presence.

Yes, Abbie responded in mind-talk, grateful for the suggestion. Talin always looked up to and responded well to Robert. Afterwards, please keep the children company. Tell them I’ll be home soon and not to worry.

He sent her a concerned glance before he faded.

After the first hour of twiddling her thumbs, waiting for someone to come in and take her statement, Abbie put her head down, and pretending to be overwhelmed, used her cord to contact Judith. "What going on?"

The message back, which Judith whispered even though no one but the two of them could hear each other, was that they had placed another DI in charge of this investigation. Worse, this DI viewed Talin as a suspect rather than a witness.

Abbie sat back, stunned by that absurd disclosure. How could anyone believe Talin could hurt his aunt?

That woman had been like a mother to him these past several years after his parents died. He’d adored the Trinidadian woman who’d left her home to come to England specifically to take care of Talin.

Close family members are usually the prime suspects in violent murders and kidnappings, Judith said matter-of-factly.

Not Talin! Abbie said. He’d confided in Abbie once that his auntie had even taught him to speak like a proper Trini and made her laugh by mimicking that accent beautifully.

How yuh going? Wuh is de scene? Wuh is de plan?

I know that, as do you, but she doesn’t. Judith began and then abruptly went quiet.

Must no longer be alone. Had they left Abbie in here to stew to make her angry or nervous enough to let slip something that might incriminate Talin?

If so, they would be sadly disappointed.

She massaged her scalp as she sent her next mental message to Klaus to check into Mama D’leau. When she sensed the book come to her, she frantically told it to stay in her bedroom.

She didn’t want to explain to the DI how a book had magically transported itself into the Serious Crime Directorate without authorization.

Once the book settled back inside her room, Abbie set Klaus to track down all mention of Mama D’leau.

Next, she pretended to check her fingernails while contacting her mother.

Margaret Grimshaw was justifiably shocked to hear her daughter speak inside her head.

Abbie informed her she was using her Grimm cord to connect to her mother, and that the police had brought her in as a witness to a murder. She might be awhile before returning home. She asked her mother to please notify the South-East Coast Ambulance Service that she couldn’t be on call today.

Be careful, her mother warned, about using your Grimm gifts arbitrarily.

Drumming on the table, Abbie considered that advice.

After a while, feeling thirsty, she went to the door and requested a water bottle.

The PC posted outside was the same fellow who’d escorted her here. She tried to chit-chat with the stiff-boots constable about Talin. He rebuffed her.

Thirst satisfied, Abbie relaxed back in her seat, hoping Talin fared favorably, though she doubted it. She resisted the urge to check in on him. Aside from her mother’s warning, if a DI was present in his interview room, Talin’s reaction to Abbie’s voice in his head might make the investigator even more suspicious of her subject.

Would he even hear her over all the other mental chatter that seemed to bother him?

A more intriguing thought was if she mind-touched Talin, would she hear the same sounds that inundated him? A fascinating conjecture she might try out if his emotional turmoil didn’t improve.

After doing nothing for another interminable hour, she shrugged off her mother’s caution and mentally touched base with Klaus. She thumbed through the various stories he related long-distance about Mama D’leau.

It made for fascinating reading and helped pass the prolonged waiting period. As she pursued one terrifying tale after another, she didn’t notice the overhead lights give up the ghost and leave her in darkness.

When the interview door opened abruptly, without a warning knock, Abbie had to blink several times before she returned from the latest tale she’d been perusing. The story had taken place in a Trinidadian forest in the year 1690.

A tall pale woman with a narrow face and angry eyes had entered Abbie’s interrogation room, duly masked. A male plainclothes officer, also masked, accompanied her. He had dark hair and a broad, pale, and lined forehead, and wore dark-rimmed glasses.

Abbie recognized the woman, and her disappointment was instant. DI Turner. Why hadn’t Judith told her it was this DI who was in charge of Talin’s case? Judith knew of this woman’s past animosity toward Abbie. She wouldn’t be an impartial judge of any evidence she uncovered.

Back in February, this inspector had questioned her after Abbie and Judith recovered Granny Chan. To Abbie’s Grimm instincts, the vibe coming off her interrogator was strong and clear. Not only did Turner distrust her, but she also viewed Abbie as a threat.

Turner now set a portable light on the table with a bang that rattled Abbie’s already fraught nerves. Was she annoyed because her witness appeared serene?

The officer introduced himself as Haldon. What were you doing in the dark? he asked with a pleasant inquiring smile.

Meditating, Abbie replied, feigning calm. She was anything but. Meditation is quite good for settling the mind after encountering a horrific scene, she added, flashing a gentle calming smile, hoping to lower the tension level that felt as alarming as the crime scene.

With your eyes open? Turner sounded skeptical.

How interesting. She thought she’d shut her eyes while she perused Klaus’s stories.

Abbie aimed for a nonchalant shrug. I was strolling along a forest pathway and there was much to note.

Like a screaming man running in circles, with blood dripping out of his eyes—a scene Klaus had been relaying of Mama D’leau’s past activities.

Turner took a seat across from Abbie, with the barrier between them. Please put your mask back on.

Abbie complied with a resigned sigh. It had been hot with it on. There were no windows to let in cool air and if there was air conditioning installed, it wasn’t functioning.

Turner pressed a button on her mobile and said she was recording this session, before sliding it toward the barrier and Abbie. Hers must still be working. Good to get that confirmation in person.

Turner tapped a key on her laptop. Then did it again. Maybe she’d had its battery charging when the blackout happened. That might have affected it.

With a huff, she shut the lid and opened a thick manila folder. She had a paper backup file. Too bad.

You have quite a bit of experience with crimes, Miss Grimshaw, do you not? DI Turner asked, shuffling pages.

As an EMT, Abbie replied, I’m the first to arrive at crime scenes that involve an injury, even before the police.

Turner’s annoyed gaze flicked toward her.

A bombing in London, Haldon said, leaning over to look at Turner’s file. A half-squashed body found in a garden. A stabbing murder in Constable Chan’s home garden.

You were not called in as an EMT to assist with any of those crimes, Turner said

I was called in for the first incident, Abbie corrected, surprised her voice sounded calm. At that reference to the London bombing, her pulse had set to hammering like a war drum. Unfortunately, I came too late.

I would have called it fortunate since every EMT who attended the incident died, except for you.

I did not view it as lucky, she replied in a soft but dangerous tone. This spring, they held a memorial service for my teammates. It was a sad and solemn affair.

You didn’t attend, Turner murmured.

Turner knew she’d been busy rescuing Granny Chan.

Talin had gone on Abbie’s behalf. She was glad to have missed it, since she wasn’t ready yet to grieve and release her lost friends. Not until she’d brought the culprit to justice. Not the one who carried out the crime, but the one who had ordered that bombing.

Were you and your teammates not that close? Turner continued, as if enjoying seeing Abbie squirm. Work colleagues can sometimes be annoying.

Her Grimm cord quivered within her arm, wanting to spring out and slap that smirk off Turner’s face.

Stand down, she ordered the affronted cord. She’s trying to egg us on. I’ll not have it.

Fortunately, Abbie could take out her frustrations behind her mask. While Turner droned on, she stuck out her tongue and practiced touching her nose with it. The exercise helped to relieve some of her tension. Her distraction might have shown in her eyes, though, because Turner seemed to grow morose.

You missed the memorial because you were with Mrs. Chan, Haldon asked. Is that correct?

I gave my statement about that in February, Abbie replied. She’d been interrogated for three hours back then and wasn’t prepared to relive that assault a second time. If you need more information about that, you’ll have to wait for my solicitor to attend with me.

Thank goodness for older brothers. One of Abbie’s was a solicitor. David’s usual focus was on his white-collar clients, but he would gladly do a favor for his younger sister. Like her other two older brothers, David, too, was protective of Abbie and her Grimm family work.

Ignoring the tightening of Turner’s lips, she added, Now, would you like me to write out a statement about what happened this morning when Constable Higgins and I came across his auntie’s body?

* * *

Abbie left her interview with Turner frustrated and worried. The meeting had turned quite contentious when Turner asked her how she’d contacted Judith when mobiles were not functioning. Abbie told her she’d heard the lines were intermittent, so the call must have connected when it was up. That didn’t satisfy Turner, but it was Abbie’s only answer.

It seemed to her, the police were more interested in investigating Talin and Abbie as suspects than searching for the actual killer.

Judith met her at the building’s entrance. The best ending to this tough morning. Her friend put away her phone.

Your mobile’s working? Abbie asked.

They’re coming back slowly.

Abbie checked on hers. The light came on. Excellent. She put it away for now.

Bran says hi, Judith said.

Since their return from rescuing Granny Chan, Abbie’s brother, Bran, and Judith were inseparable, having patched up their differences. Until COVID restrictions set in.

To protect Bran, the two lovebirds now kept their distance.

Abbie still had a hard time reconciling seeing Judith without Bran at her side.

Worried the immortal mage they’d outfoxed this spring might come after Bran, who had helped them, Judith gifted him with Comet, her magical broom. Besides her, Comet was his next best defense.

Though heartbroken to put a pause on his and Judith’s growing relationship, he’d texted Abbie later that day to say he felt privileged to possess such a powerful magical tool.

Abbie had also heard in his comments his thrill at having back his control of Comet. She couldn’t help smiling as she remembered seeing him fly across the night sky on that broom with an unconscious Judith in his arms.

Talin’s still being interviewed, Judith added. I plan to stay put until they release him.

At that pronouncement, Abbie said, Thank you. He’s not in a good way, Jude.

He will be, Judith replied. I can teach him a few Taoist tricks on how to control his magic.

Oh, brilliant, Abbie said, highly relieved. Hey, why didn’t you tell me they had put Turner on this case?

I didn’t want to prejudice what you told her, Judith said. You heading home now?

Not yet. I want to see my kids, even if only through a window. To assure them I’m all right.

Judith walked her out the front doors and called over a PC to drive Abbie.

She waved goodbye to Judith and then hurried back to steal a hug before getting into the police unit.

On their way, the constable promised to deliver Rosie to Judith’s home after forensics finished with it.

Might take a while though, he warned. We’re understaffed. They have reassigned any constables who hold a valid Traffic Control certificate to Traffic until the lights are back.

She hoped whoever took Rosie apart fixed the right rear light that had been acting up before they put her car back together. She hadn’t had the time to have it repaired yet.

Once the constable dropped her off at home, Abbie gazed at her cottage with nostalgia. She so missed living here.

When they agreed to switch homes, Granny Chan had said that she intended to sage this cottage, the church, and the graveyard, because she had no intention of living anywhere with the lingering negativity of a demon-slaying.

Abbie had no objection to that as long as the ceremony didn’t chase Robert away, too. Still, she hadn’t breathed easy until he accompanied her to Granny Chan’s home. He told her the two kids had enough guardians with a powerful witch like Mrs. Chan living with them and Abbie’s Grimm mother tutoring them during the day.

After the elderly witch moved into Abbie’s home, however, Granny Chan said that no saging was required because this entire area vibrated with positive energy.

Abbie mentioned the wards around the cottage then, but the elderly witch said that wasn’t the source of the energy she sensed. She believed something celestial was at work.

Could Kali’s appearance here be the reason for that? Except the Hindu goddess had never entered St. Michael’s church. However, that was where the kids’ mother had prayed to the deity tied to St. Michael’s to help her children. That prayer had resulted in Abbie being summoned along with the other members of her Standard Bearers’ club.

Could the resulting energy release every time the group did their fist bumps be the source of the positive vibes Granny Chan sensed? Could her home, the church, and the graveyard be divinely blessed?

True or not, the pleasing idea made her want to move back home even more. She was about to open the cottage gate when a bark alerted her to St. Michael’s church. Turning, she spotted Figg sitting on the church’s front landing.

Oh, no! The last thing she needed was that dangerous dog coming here to warn her that his immortal master was planning to harass Abbie or her family and friends again.

Figg met her gaze and then walked over and used his paw to shift open the church door.

That was odd. She always kept the church locked. Aside from preventing vandals from entering, it also barred Nica or Jimi from being tempted to go inside.

She gave her right hand a shake to alert her cord to be ready and raised her pen-ring shield before she raced toward the church and up its stairs.

Who’s inside the church? Abbie asked the dog, her tension on high alert. Your master?

The dog wagged his tail.

She took that as a sign it wasn’t the immortal, for Figg was as fearful of that monster as Abbie. She sighed in relief. Probably a break-in. She should call the police, but communication was spotty. Even if she reached 999, until the blackout ended, would they come for a minor B&E?

She needed to deal with this problem.

Good thing she’d chosen to stop by here to check on her kids instead of going straight to Judith’s place, or her parents and her kids might have had to deal with this break-in.

Guardedly, Abbie edged up to the doorway and, pulse racing like a bolting horse, she peered into the darkened church. Her dominant left hand rose, fisted around her keys, ready to wallop anyone who threatened her. Who’s in here!

She pushed the door open wider and whipped out her cord in readiness to apprehend this trespasser. After she whacked her mysterious intruder for frightening her.

With all the windows boarded, it was too dark to see inside. She wished she had stopped to fetch a torch. But would it have worked?

Footsteps sounded and then someone said, Abbie?

It took her a moment to comprehend that she was not under threat. That voice belonged to Callum. She hurriedly retracted her cord.

DCI Callum Radford was wholly human, unaware that supernatural creatures were real and often threatened his world. She couldn’t see him clearly because her eyesight hadn’t adjusted enough to the darkness inside the church. She followed his hurried approach by the sound of boots hitting the floorboards.

Callum had been inside St. Michael’s church? Why?

Chapter Three

Figg growled, backing up and preventing Abbie from going in further. He was protective. Good pup.

Callum’s footsteps faltered.

Easy. She soothed Figg’s forehead. Stand down.

The dog whined with uncertainty and then leaned against her legs in acquiescence.

Callum, she said, both thrilled and worried to find the Chipstead nick’s DCI here. He wasn’t part of her support bubble. She put her mask back on. This church was an odd place for Callum to visit, especially without her permission.

She wanted to ask if he had a warrant, but squashed the self-defeating impulse. She wanted to date this man one day, not alienate him irreparably. Must be her lingering temper at having had to deal with DI Turner all morning.

Callum stopped within the required two-meter distance that COVID protocols required. His tartan mask made her lips tip up in a smile of appreciation.

A ray of afternoon light shone into the church through the open doorway to highlight his bright hair trimmed short and irregular. Barber visits weren’t allowed any longer. His angular face was pale and his gray eyes looked drawn and tired.

He observed Figg with interest. New pet?

No, Abbie said. He’s a stray. Likes to hang around here, but I’m discouraging that behavior.

Not well, he said, his teasing gaze meeting hers.

She quit petting the dog. Right.

Odd that she hadn’t seen Callum’s distinctive sage green Rover parked beside her dad’s truck. Was it down because of the blackout? How had he arrived here?

To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit, Callum? She stepped back to allow him room to move out onto the landing. And how did you enter St. Michael’s?

Interview go all right? Callum asked, staying put.

Abbie shrugged, noting his adept topic change from what he was doing here to how she’d fared. As well as my last with DI Turner. Intense and unhelpful for both of us.

Excellent, he replied. That should keep her busy for a few days trying to unravel your statement. It’s what I usually have to do when I read one of your witness reports.

I’m sorry about Niara’s passing, Abbie blurted out, realizing the lady had been Callum’s brother-in-law’s sister. She was gone before we arrived. There was nothing either Talin or I could have done to save her.

I know, he said, nodding. I spoke to the coroner before they took me off the case. He informed me that her death was instantaneous. He shuffled on his feet and pointed backward with his torch at where he’d emerged from the church’s anteroom. You’ve not altered much in there.

No, Abbie said, curious where he went with this latest change of subject.

You said you wanted to use this as your teaching space, didn’t you? Callum asked. To hold first aid classes.

He was right. Except, after she bought the church, cottage, and graveyard out back, paying off the monthly mortgage never left enough funds to fix up the church.

So, St. Michael’s was in the same sordid state as when Abbie entered to find the two children cowering beside their mother’s body. She’d washed up the spilled blood, but much of it had soaked into the floorboards and walls. Then, once COVID hit, she couldn’t hold classes. For now, she was in a holding pattern.

Cash is tight, Abbie admitted. Can’t afford repairs yet.

She already owed her parents for covering the deposit for this place. She didn’t want to ask them for more financial help. By the time restrictions lifted, she should have saved enough to do some light touchups. Enough to take out the stench of murder and make it usable for teaching.

It’s on my to-do list, she said with forced enthusiasm.

Abbie gave Callum a side glance and decided she should change the subject this time. Are you hungry? I can ask if Mum or Granny Chan can fix you a bite to eat. Granny Chan’s living at my cottage to act as my kids’ nanny while I stay with Judith.

Not today, he said. I’m expected for lunch elsewhere. He nodded toward the cottage. Excellent arrangement, you and Granny Chan switching houses.

Yes. The kids love her cooking, so there wasn’t much protest, Abbie said, a bittersweet acknowledgment that she would lose that competition every time.

His gaze softened, which touched Abbie’s heart.

I stopped by here because I’d like to help you with this place, Callum said, finally answering why he was here. Would you allow me to do some renovations to get St. Michael’s ready for your classes?

His request left her torn. She wanted his help, but couldn’t afford it. Shouldn’t you be working? she asked, prevaricating. Judith said you were short-staffed.

He shrugged. I’ve been working from home, with the occasional day in the office. He pulled out what looked like a chunky radio. With phones down, this airwave is my only source of contact with my constables. That means I can work from here as easily as home.

There’s no Wi-Fi in there, Abbie said with a frown. Even if you turned on your laptop, you wouldn’t be able to use it effectively inside the church.

Mine’s at home along with my mobile. What do you say, Abbie?

Although he was already aware of her stretched finances, it was still hard to admit it aloud. Swallowing her pride, she forced out the words. I can’t afford to pay you much.

I’m happy to donate my services. I also know a bloke who owns a hardware store. He’s not only a mate, but owes me a huge favor. Between the two of us, we can cover the labor if you can pitch in for material costs.

His head tilted, and his eyes crinkled as if he were smiling under his mask. If you insist on paying me back personally, you can take me out to dinner once they lift the lockdown. I need to get out of my house. Deal?

That would be fantastic, she said with deep sincerity. She’d been saving for this renovation. Also, any chance to spend time with Callum was okay with her. Finally, something went her way. Thank you! Just send me the invoice.

He nodded. All settled then. I’ll finish checking out what’s needed in there before I leave.

How did you get here? I don’t see your jeep.

Walked over from where I’m expected for lunch. He pointed beside her. Will you be taking him into the cottage?

Abbie glanced down and noted with worry that Figg was still here. Why had he come? His presence could draw the immortal here. He’s not allowed inside.

Does he have a name? Callum asked.

Her cautious glance swung back to the DCI. Was that a trick question? Why would I name a stray?

His curious and intelligent gaze stayed trained on her. Unnerved, she wanted to end their talk. Yet, she couldn’t return home and leave this dog here. She must also ensure Figg didn’t hurt Callum if he returned later when she wasn’t around.

She knelt to face Figg and pointed to Callum. He’s a friend. He’s not to be harmed. Understand?

The dog whined with a questioning note and then strolled over to Callum. He sniffed at his booted feet and then lay down, rolling over to offer him a chance to rub his belly.

Callum chuckled and knelt to oblige. Good boy.

When it looked as if man and dog were enjoying themselves too much, Abbie said abruptly, That’s enough.

She wanted Figg to know she trusted Callum, and he was