Crowbones

CHAPTER 16

Grimshaw

Thaisday, Novembros 1

While Grimshaw waited for Detective Samuel Kipp and his CIU team to arrive from Bristol, Osgood drove up to the station, found an unfogged parking space, and joined his chief.

“I checked the campers first thing,” Osgood said.

“They must have been thrilled to see you before the sun,” Grimshaw remarked.

“I wanted to get on top of things in case we had a situation.” He looked at the densely fogged space in front of the police station.

“We have a situation,” Grimshaw confirmed. “As soon as Detective Kipp arrives, we’ll need to figure out how to blow this fog off the crime scene.”

The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he heard a soft female laugh coming from somewhere nearby.

I guess Air is still keeping watch.

“Did you find out anything when you were knocking on doors?” Grimshaw asked.

Osgood nodded. “Four teenage boys from Putney of all places had rented one of the campers, wanting to spend Trickster Night in Sproing.”

Putney. A whole lot of trouble had come out of that human town a few months ago. “You get their names and home addresses?”

“Yes, sir, but . . . After they returned to the camper, one of them—Tom Saulner is his name—went back out and didn’t return last night. His friends just thought he’d gotten lucky, you know?”

It was possible, since there were a few teenage girls in the village. Not likely, but possible. Except he thought about all that attitude—and the dangerous vibes—those boys had been projecting when they’d come up to The Jumble, and the way they had looked at Vicki. And he thought about what had invited those boys to come and play.

He shuddered. “You get a description?”

“They claimed they couldn’t remember hair or eye color or what he’d been wearing, but his ‘costume’ had consisted of a hatchet buried in his skull.”

“I saw that boy last night at The Jumble. You call the EMTs and Doc Wallace. Ask if anyone reported a girl being assaulted last night.”

“You think . . .” Osgood’s brown eyes turned stone hard.

“Just ticking the boxes, Officer.” Grimshaw sighed. “I have a meeting with Julian Farrow and Ilya Sanguinati. I’m going to mute my mobile phone, but I’ll be across the street if you need me. This discussion shouldn’t take long.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grimshaw crossed the street and went around to the back of Lettuce Reed since the front door still had the Closed sign.

He had a college boy who had paid a dear price for a prank. Now he had this other boy, Saulner, who was missing and might never be found. He had Elementals detaining the academics staying at the Mill Creek Cabins and “assisting” him in shielding the evidence left at the police station from the residents and tourists. And the gods only knew what Julian would be able to tell him after they played Murder.

Could the day get any better?