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The Light Who Shines Page 6
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I can’t believe I was just saved by a wolf! He seems to sense me watching and lifts his keen eyes to me. I curse my stupidity for staying around and aim my Glock at him instead. I start backing up slowly toward the street again, not wanting to shoot, but the wolf starts running toward me at full speed. I should shoot him, really, I should. He just ripped into a man’s arm—but he also saved my life.
My hands, aiming the gun straight ahead at the wolf, shake at the force of my indecision. Before I can make up my mind, the wolf has already reached me. He slows his pace, circling around me, sniffing and yipping quietly. Then he puts his forepaws and head down right in front of me and sticks his rump in the air, wagging his tail as though he wants to play.
Rain still pours down on us and water is running in rivulets through my hair, but I pay no attention. He is huge! And beautiful! When he stands again, I’m amazed that the top of his withers reach my waist. His coat is long and thick, fading from a charcoal color on his back and nose to silver around his flank. He has touches of brown throughout his coat and around his eyes, which have now changed from a glowing green to a pale, icy blue.
I reach out slowly with my left hand. He sniffs at the proffered hand, then puts his head under it like he wants to be petted. I comply and slowly scratch him about the ears as I slide my Glock smoothly back into its holster.
The two of us are drenched in rain, standing in the alley, greeting each other. What a strange life I lead! After a moment, when I think he’s used to me, I gently feel deep down in his neck fur for a collar. His fur is so thick that I can’t be sure, but I don’t think he has one. He appears to have traveled a long and difficult road and looks too dirty and skinny to be a pet anyway. I squat down to examine the gash on his side, but the blood and rain obscure the wound.
“What am I going to do with you, shadow-walker?”
He looks up at me with questioning eyes.
I put my hand on my hip and say, “You had better come with me.”
He walks by my side on the way to the car, seemingly oblivious to his wound, and waits patiently while I pop the trunk. I pull out a blanket and arrange it over the back seat. When all is set, I wave the wolf in. He immediately hops in the back seat of my car like he’s been doing it all of his days. He takes up the entire back seat when he lies down.
I slide into the driver’s seat and immediately wrinkle my nose at the stench of wet, dirty animal. Reaching over, I spring the latch on the glove box and pull out a granola bar to feed him. I think he eats it, though it’s really hard to tell because it disappears so quickly. He certainly didn’t taste it, and there was absolutely no chewing action going on. I think that maybe a bath, medical care, and food are in order. I definitely prefer my wolves well fed.
Chapter 06
Herbal Etcetera
Bluebell Kildare: May 27, 2022, Red Ages
I pull my car to a stop in front of the shop my neighbor Alexis owns. It’s located in the middle of Dunnwell Street, a thriving business community in our neighborhood. The storefronts are well kept and have old quality craftsmanship in their design. Alexis Demetriou’s storefront is intricately paneled and painted in sage green, burgundy, and cream. Whimsical stenciling on her large front windows announces “Herbal Enchantments” with smaller print below that says “Amulets, potions, charms, etcetera.” I’m here for the etcetera.
I let the wolf out and look at him closely. He looks smaller now, just about the size of a large dog. I shake my head. I must be going mad! My state of panic surely played tricks on my mind.
As I walk in with the wolf pushing in front of me, the door chimes merrily announce our arrival. Alexis has her back turned toward the door as she places little bottles of potions on a shelf. She’s wearing a neatly pressed, pale blue pantsuit that makes her dark chocolate curls stand out beautifully.
The store is filled with bottles of all shapes and colors with neatly printed labels. The colored glass sparkles even in the dim light filtering through the clouds and the large storefront windows. Aside from the shelves of potions, there are walls of charms and several amulet trees. The place is in pristine and orderly condition. I don’t blame the place at all. I wouldn’t get out of line either if I were Alexis’ store.
Alexis is tall and fit, but curvy in a generous way—as opposed to me, who is curvy in a barely noticeable way. I like to think that her generous bosom reflects her generous personality. She has brown skin, large brown eyes, and beautifully thick hair. She also has a lot of sass. It seems like when she’s not pointing her finger, she’s crossing her arms or putting her hands on her hips or raising her eyebrows. And look out if she starts shaking her head at you.
Alexis turns around and her eyes widen, showing an extraordinary amount of eyeball, but in a good way. “Great Demon of the Abyss!” she exclaims. “You have a wolf with you!”
She rushes forward, but a few paces away from him she seems to remember he is a wolf. She stops and offers her hand slowly. He sniffs her hand, giving it a perfunctory lick. Then he starts casing the shop, sniffing fervently at the abundance of scented goods.
I spit out in one breath, “I was attacked in an alley behind our building this morning—a man from a case I’m working on, but don’t worry, I’m fine. This wolf appeared out of nowhere and tore into him like an avenging angel. The guy disappeared and got away. I don’t think he’s dangerous unless he’s threatened.” I pause for breath.
Alexis puts her hands on her hips, clearly outraged. “What do you mean you don’t think he’s dangerous? He jumped you in the alley, and you have dried blood on your neck!”
I widen my eyes and grab my neck. “Shoot, I forgot about that! But I meant I don’t think the wolf is dangerous. I’m going to keep him. The man is definitely dangerous. The wolf got cut by him, and he is in far worse condition than I am.”
Alexis’ eyes flit to the wolf and then back to me. Then she immediately springs to action, her healing nature taking over.
She squats down and informs the wolf, “Now, I’m going to touch you gently by your wound, and you are going to remain calm and stay still.”
She tentatively parts the bloody hair on his left flank, and he abides by her orders, standing still through her ministrations. I watch carefully for signs of aggression but see none.
Alexis looks up at me, and I can feel her relief as she says, “Thankfully it is not that bad. His fur protected him a good deal, and the rain seems to have helped. It looks like the knife nicked some surface blood vessels, but the wound isn’t deep.”
Then she looks at the wolf and starts cooing, “You poor thing, you look so starved! Let’s get you something to eat and take care of that cut.”
This is not an unexpected response. Alexis does two things very well. She can cook up herbal potions like no one’s business, and she also does her best to feed everyone in sight. I personally agree that feeding him before taking care of the injury is a wise idea.
Alexis leads us to a back room equipped with a small commercial kitchen decorated in a mix of stainless steel and country charm. She does most of her potion mixing in this comfortable and efficient space. Alexis’ assistant, Penelope, is busy ladling some mixture into bottles with a funnel. She turns to say something to Alexis and immediately drops the ladle back into the pot with a plop when she sees the wolf.
Alexis smiles and says, “Penelope, we have a patient today. Do you want to mind the front while I take care of him back here?”
Penelope is a pretty, young girl with rosy cheeks and curly hair that frequently escapes her bun. She is usually hardworking but a little silly. Right now I think the term slack-jawed most adequately describes her as she stares, mouth agape, at the wolf. The wolf, in return, is utterly ignoring her. Eventually Alexis’ words seem to penetrate Penelope’s temporarily addled brain because she wrings her apron in her hands and promptly runs up front.
I hop up on the edge of the butcher block island as Alexis starts pulling things from the cabinets. She opens a purple b
ottle and pours a green substance on some gauze pads. Handing them to me, she instructs, “Dab this around your injury while I care for the wolf. What are you going to call him, anyway? ”She turns her back to me and starts pulling things from the fridge.
I consider her question for a minute before replying, “Well, the only real memory I have of my mother is of her telling me a bedtime story about a wolf. It’s hazy, only a wisp of a memory really, but I think she called the wolf Varg. So that’s his name.”
Alexis turns around to look at me as I tell her that story. Her eyes go soft and warm. Then she turns around again and starts briskly heating things in stainless steel pots on the red porcelain stove. “Varg is the perfect name,” she says.
“So, do you have any remedies for fleas and worms handy as well? I think he’s been traveling a long way without any care. I also need a strong soap for his coat.”
Alexis looks up thoughtfully. “I usually don’t sell veterinary supplies out of the store. I do make them, but I make them in batches when I get requests. I’ll have to make some from scratch.”
“Do you mind? I’ll pay you, of course.”
“I don’t mind. In fact, I insist. But it’s going to take a little time.” She turns to me with narrowed eyes. “And I’m not going to let him go wandering around town with you when he’s full of potions. Even though they’re natural, they do take a lot out of a body. He’s hurt, and he’s going to need protection against viruses and diseases as well. We don’t know where he has been, but here in the city with the dog population, he’s at risk. And good Lord!“ She sniffs. “He needs a bath.” Alexis finishes this with a nod like it is all decided now.
She turns back to the stove and handles the long wooden spoon like a master while I hop down to rummage through her cabinets. I locate a large, green glass bowl, fill it with cold water, and set it on the brick floor. Varg starts lapping the water up with a terrific thirst but stops as soon as Alexis puts down another huge glass bowl filled with rice, ground beef, and garlic.
“Wow! Just wow!” I say as we watch him move over to that bowl and devour it like it’s nothing.
Alexis crosses her arms and says, “Yeah. He’d better stay with me today. I’ll get him in shape.”
I give Alexis a big smile. “Thanks so much. I’ve got a new case, so I’ll be running around all day. I’m so glad he doesn’t have to wait for the end of the day to get fixed up.”
“Of course he shouldn’t wait with that injury. Now, don’t worry about him. I’ll see you when you get off work. If the shop is closed, you know where to find me.”
Then she wets a paper towel and leans over me to dab at my neck. “There, you’re all clean now.”
I hug her and affect a serious tone. “Now I owe you one. If anyone ever murders you, remember, I’m the one you should call.”
Alexis laughs and pushes me toward the swinging door. “Go, get, scoot!”
I start to leave with a smile on my lips. Then I remember something, so I spin around. “Hey Alexis, I have one more question. If you wanted to learn more about a certain magical artifact, where would you go?”
“Easy. The Dragomir Magical Artifact Shop. Make sure you speak with the owner.”
“Thanks again!” I shout, running out the door on my way to the Medical Examiner’s office.
Chapter 07
Evidence of Anguish
Bluebell Kildare: May 27, 2022, Red Ages
I think to myself how ugly the new Medical Examiner’s building is as I eat up the sidewalk on the way in. It rises out of the mountainside as a cement and steel square oddity in disaccord with the rustic countryside. Hopefully it was gentle on the taxpayers’ pocketbooks because it certainly isn’t an asset to our architecture.
By now the rain has stopped, and a steady, cooling breeze blows my straight brown hair across my face. I tuck it behind my ear as I enter the building.
Inside, the receptionist accepts my ID and gives her reluctant assent for me to proceed to the autopsy room. I gather by the way her mouth sours upon sight of me that she doesn’t care for my kind. I don’t care for her kind either—the breedist kind.
Pushing past the steel door, I enter the heart of the operation. Dr. Nathan Perlman, with a two-day shadow on his chin and a clipboard in his hand, is standing over a body. He looks up, and I see his affable smile is a bit forced today. He looks tired and worn but tries to put up a cheerful front. “Good morning, Bluebell. I was expecting you.”
He covers the body on his table with a white sheet and pushes it through a cooler door while whistling. I think the whistling is for his benefit more than mine. He pulls out another table and maneuvers it toward the examining area. “This is our boy.”
“Well, I’m afraid to ask what you’ve found.”
Nathan nods solemnly. “The only good thing about telling you what I’m about to is that I know you’re going to find the person who did this. That thought has been my saving grace today.”
I say softly and firmly, meaning it from the bottom of my soul, “I promise, Nathan. I will do my very best.”
Nathan nods and pulls back the sheet. He picks up another clipboard and starts his report. “This is a summary of my preliminary findings. The cause of death appears to be due to blunt force head trauma caused by a vehicular collision.” Nathan points to an area on the front of the boy’s skull. “The frontal bone was crushed on impact, causing fracture contusions on his brain, massive hemorrhage, and immediate death. Fragments of glass were found in the wound area.”
Nathan points to the back of the boy’s skull. “The occipital bone was also fractured, causing brain contusions and additional hemorrhage. Abrasions on this site of injury show fragments of asphalt embedded in the wound area.”
Nathan pulls the sheet down further and points to the boy’s hip. “His left pelvis is crushed, and his right pelvis has multiple fractures. This pattern of contusions here appears to be a car’s grill pattern.” He points to a crosshatch pattern of bloody stripes on the boy’s skin extending from his left hip down over his left thigh.
Nathan pulls the sheet down further still and points to the lower left leg where the bone protrudes. “His left tibia and his left fibula both have complete fractures and several incomplete fractures. The tibia on his right leg has one incomplete fracture. Green paint chips were found embedded in his thigh.”
Nathan pauses and looks at me. “All of these injuries and evidence so far indicate that his death was caused by impact with a passenger vehicle driving at moderate speeds. It appears the car hit him at a slight angle from the left. His leg was immediately broken by the bumper, and his hip and thigh hit the grill at an angle. His forehead hit the windshield, causing instantaneous death. At that time, I believe the driver put on his breaks, and the boy’s body was thrown back onto the asphalt where the road impacted his skull again and left the asphalt in the back of his head. His back side is also covered in contusions and is embedded with asphalt.”
I feel nausea and tension building in my stomach. It is not that what Nathan has told me and shown me so far is too much. I’ve been doing this for a while. It’s that I know there is still much more to come and it’s a lot to handle at once. I ask, “Can you give me just a minute?”
Nathan nods. “Sure. Take as much time as you need.” He gently covers the boy’s body again with the sheet.
I turn my back on the table and walk away. Keeping my back to the table, I start to pace briskly, but the sound of my heels clicking on the cold cement floor reverberates through the room and agitates me more. I halt, turn toward the opposite corner of the room, and close my eyes. I feel the tension built up in my body, and horror reels in the back of my mind, threatening to overcome me. I roll my neck and do some slow, deep breathing to contain it. When I finally restore some calm to my body, I return.
“Okay, Doc. I’m ready. What else do you have?”
Nathan mercifully keeps the sheet over the body for a bit longer and says, “During my internal examinat
ion, I found that the body is well hydrated, but the gall bladder is distended, and the stomach and intestines are empty. The total body weight is 112 pounds, and with a height of five eleven, that gives the deceased a BMI of 15.6. This information combined with his labs tells me that this boy was dangerously undernourished.”
“Can you tell how long he was without food?” I ask.
Nathan replies, “I can tell you that he did not have food recently, but it’s unclear if his malnourishment came from having no food at all for a shorter period or if he had inadequate food for a longer period. The amount of time a person can survive on little or no sustenance really depends on their starting weight and their basic metabolic rate. I can say that the extent of his other injuries prior to the collision would have increased his energy requirements significantly.”
“Okay,” I say, taking that in. I cross my arms over my chest as if I can shield myself from the information. “What else do you have?”
Nathan draws the sheet aside to reveal one hand and points at the boy’s wrist. “Both wrists are completely encircled in calluses about two inches wide. Bruising and contusions encircle the base of his hands.”
He points to the upper arm and shoulder. “Behind the shoulder, the teres major muscle is torn on both sides, and the ligament tissue connecting the long head of the triceps brachii muscle to the bone is torn. Both ankles show similar calluses and contusions at the top of the foot. The injuries and bruising on both the ankles and the wrists show all stages of healing, which means that the wounds were continuously afflicted over a period of time lasting at least two weeks.”