Riding in the Back Seat - Part Eight

or Laurent doesn't like doors without handles.

Previously On - Helen, Willy’s sister, has a few questions for Laurent. And those questions are one Laurent doesn’t have all the answers to, or at least answers he wants to divulge. So, they decide to take the party downtown.

"You were in Willy's little circle of special friends, weren't you?" Helen came around and looked me in the eye. An orgasmic thrill passed through me. "You may or may not have killed him, but if you are what I think you are then he's just as dead because of you."

She couldn't know that much. "Tell me Detective, what am I?"

"You're a wannabe sorcerer." Helen spit the word out. "You're trying to get back to the old ways, and you've suckered Willy into your games. I don't believe in any of that crap, but real or not people die because of it and spend money they don't have."

I shrugged. "There's no crime in being a 'wannabe sorcerer' is there?" The nonchalance in my stance and voice was hardly what I felt. If Willy had a circle of special friends who were into sorcery then that meant I'd be facing other practitioners in my investigation. That complicated things.

"Not unless you've committed fraudulent acts through the postal service, or killed a man who happens to be my only living family." She emphasized the last four words and stepped into my space. "Of course if I find out that the latter is true, you won't see the inside of a cell."

I held out my hands. They were only a few inches from her well formed breasts. "I can assure you that I want to find out as much about the circumstances around Willy's death as you do. If one of our circle was responsible or perhaps a rival then I need to know."

Helen looked down at my hands and stepped back. "I see. Well, if you're so interested in helping get in the car and keep your mouth shut. We'll talk more when we get downtown."

The temptation to grab her and drag her to some place for some interrogation on my terms was strong. I did not like playing games by other’s rules. I would give this a chance though. I had seventy-two hours. I could waste a few, especially if they were all in the presence of this creature.

I got into the back of their conveyance. It stank of stale coffee, sweat, and other unpleasantries. That I was in it unfettered was a small comfort given the screen separating me from the driver and his partner and the lack of handles that I could use to let me out. I didn't think that freeing myself would be difficult, but it was the need for force to do so that rankled me. My people do not take being confined very well.

We drove towards their station house at a leisurely pace. After a few moments of driving Detective Sparrow turned and looked at me. "So, Laurence, what part of the country do you come from?"

I looked out to the squalor beyond the windows and thought of my home. "A place that seems farther away from here than you can imagine." I looked back at the man who frowned at me. I smiled. "California."

He turned to look at a box that sat between them. I knew this to be a laptop. He typed and characters swam across its surface. "Whereabouts in California?"

"I don't see how that's germane to the situation." I felt the knife at my back and wished to pull it and teach him some respect. Words of power came to my tongue and lay unformed. I could make him beg for mercy before ending him. As satisfying as that would be, I forced those feelings down.

"But if it will help your search for my background, you can look in the northern regions of that state. I have spent some time in San Diego." That was true, but it had been more than a human lifetime ago.

The frown turned to a smile. "I went there once. Beautiful place. And I'll only find background on you if you've been in trouble. You've been a good boy, haven't you Laurence?"

Part of my illicit knowledge granted me the assurance that he wouldn't be able to find anything on me, unless I'd been very bad indeed. I also knew that there would be nothing for him to find at all on me. "No worse a boy than you, Detective Sparrow." I narrowed my eyes and looked into his. A whisper of one of the words of power left my lips. I could see into his mind, the darkest corners revealed to me. "Oh and you've been a very naughty boy indeed. Does your lovely partner know about your midnight dalliances with young fellows?"

The frown was back again. "Don't know what you're talking about." He spoke through gritted teeth.

"I see. That's a no, then. I'm not judging you. I - I believe the parlance is - go both ways, myself. I like my partners a bit more mature than you though."

A vein popped out on Sparrow's forehead. "Shut your mouth."

"Don't let him get to you." Helen looked back at me. "You might want to keep your mouth shut, Laurence. I don't trust a word you're saying and none of this will help you breathe free air any time soon."

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am." I was content with the rise I had gotten out of him. While I didn't know if he had any real experience with my accusation, my gift let me see that the desire was there. I found his level of protestation interesting.

We finished the ride in silence. The building we came to was a drab, boxy affair. It had three stories and there were several police cars parked around. Sparrow hauled me out of the car and escorted me roughly inside. He handed me over to a young blond man in a uniform.

“Put this puke in Interrogation Room Three. Make sure to pat him down first.” Sure that his will would be done, he walked towards a bank of sliding doors that my mind identified as elevators.