Burning for You (Blackwater) (29 page)

“Not until I’ve said what I want to
say,” I tell him calmly, despite the fact that I’m terrified.  “My father was a
good police chief and would mop the floor with you.  My family has been here
for centuries, and while yours may have been here longer, we belong here too.”

“I’m putting you as a suspect in
the disappearance of Michael Collins,” Bill replies.  “I’ll contact you for
details and potential court appearances.  You might want to get that rich family
you like to sleep around with to get you a lawyer.”  A lamp from Gwen’s desk
flies across the room and crashes above his head against the door, smashing
down on Bill’s bald head.  Bautista begins to frantically claw at the door. 
The lock clicks and Bautista flings the door open.  Bill walks up to me
slowly.  “You’ll be sorry you did that,” he says.

“Probably not,” I mutter as they
leave.  I slump down against the window until I’m seated on the floor, taking
deep and controlled breaths.  I have to hand it to Erika, because what normally
would have been an immediate asthma attack is just a moment to catch my breath. 

“What the hell happened in here?”
Gwen asks me, walking in her office past the smashed lamp.  “Are you alright?”

“Sorry about the lamp,” I say,
looking up at her.  She doesn’t look angry, but very concerned.  “Do you mind
if I go out and get some air?”

“Take the day if you need it,” she
says sympathetically.  “Bill Cousineau is a complete ass.  He just marches in
here and says whatever he wants without regard for any details except the ones
that state the case he wants to make.  I understand.”

“Thanks,” I say, standing up.  “I
won’t need the day, I don’t think, but I do need to talk to someone.”  Gwen
nods and squeezes me comfortingly on the shoulder as I walk away.  I walk
directly over to the west elevator and take it down to the third floor, turn right
and knock on the glass where Erika is standing behind.

She looks up and frowns, but
motions me around and lets me through by buzzing me in.  A million pills from
their compartments surround me.  “What brings you here?” she asks.

“The Chief of Police, Sheriff
Asshat,” I reply dryly.  “Bill Cousineau just came to my place of work and
asked about my ex-husband.  Then he threatened me.”

“Threatened you how?” she asks,
looking up from her microscope, her eyes narrowing. 

I take a seat on a rolling chair
across from her.  “Saying that the Order is going to take control of Blackwater
and I should just go back to Chicago.”

Erika rolls her eyes.  “The entire
police department is the Order,” she says.  “They recruit from all over to
ensure that no crafters will get in.”

“It didn’t used to be,” I say. 

Erika nods.  “I forgot your father
was police chief once upon a time ago.  I’m sorry.”

“Erika, what do you know about my
ex-husband’s disappearance?”

She pauses for a second and pushes
her chair away from her side of the room to direct herself over to me.  “Did
Bill mention me?”

I shake my head.  “No, he didn’t
actually say your name, but the last time I saw Michael, you were with me.”

“Was that the last time you saw
him?” she asks.

“I think you’re playing dumb on purpose,”
I say.  “I am grateful to you for helping me with my asthma.  It’s made a huge
difference, whatever that stuff is that you gave me.  I’d like to know if I’m
indebted to you for another reason.  So I’m going to ask you again.  Do you
know what happened to Michael?”

She hesitates, not meeting my eyes,
casting her eyes down at the floor.  Then she nods.  “That night,” she begins. 
“The night after he came up to us in the parking lot, Ash and I made sure he
wouldn’t ever bother you again.”

“You and Ash?” I ask in disbelief. 
“How?”

She shrugs.  “I poisoned him and
Ash got rid of him.  They won’t find him.”

“Elaborate, please,” I say flatly. 
“What happened?”

“Well, I mix together some-“

“I don’t care how you poisoned
him,” I hiss.  “What do you mean, Ash got rid of him?”

She smiles.  “They won’t find him. 
Ash is possibly one of the best alchemists I’ve ever seen.”

My ankle is crossed over my knee
and I take the opportunity to fumble nervously with the hem of my pant leg. 
“So what did he do, Erika?”

“He caused your ex-husband to cease
to be.  His body is gone.  There’s no trace of him left,” she replies.  “The
police won’t find him.”

After my minor panic attack in
Erika’s office, I take a walk up the stairs to the fifth floor.  Erika called up
to let a nurse know I would be coming, and to answer anything I had to ask
her.  Theo and I discussed the questions I would ask, and I have them ready. 

Thoughts of Michael dead in a ditch
somewhere would have actually been more comforting to me than thoughts of
Michael’s body gone and vanished from the earth without a trace.  How did Ash
do it?  Was that part of fire crafting that I haven’t yet tapped into?  Come to
think of it, there is a hell of a lot I haven’t tapped into.  I vow to myself
to start taking my craft more seriously and focus on what I can and can’t do
with it.  After my encounter with Bill Cousineau earlier today, I know there
must be more to it than making light sources explode or fly across a room. 

Meanwhile, I’m focused on Michelle,
the maternity nurse.  Michelle is everything that a male nurse’s fantasy is –
buxom, blonde and curvy in all of the right places, except she’s dressed in a
pair of Sesame Street scrubs and her golden hair is pulled back in a sensible
ponytail with her face free of makeup.  I instantly love her for it.  Besides,
who would she plan to woo away working on the maternity floor, new dads
enamored of their newborns?  It hardly seems like a goal that could be
accomplished very easily.

I’ve kidnapped Michelle on her
lunch to take her for coffee at a place off campus, out of earshot of hospital
staff and anyone else who might be listening.  I realize I’m starving and order
a soup and sandwich combination and she does the same.  I find her really
likeable.  She’s the kind of person who I would be friends with under normal
circumstances.  I make a note to explore around the hospital more since I work
there full time and don’t know all that many people.

“So Erika mentioned you wanted to
talk to me about some things and I might be able to help,” she begins, once we
are settled.  She sips on hot coffee and I am actually chilled enough based on
the weather outside to order a tea, which I rarely do.  Hot beverages have
never been my thing.  The Satsuma orange and cinnamon flavor does little to
comfort me and I wish it would just snow already.  Cold without snow always
seems worse than cold with snow.  Theo was wrong about it snowing, or rather,
the weather report was. 

“I wanted to ask you a bit about
hospital security,” I say.  “I’m sure you’ve been bugged left and right about
how things are set up, but I have a personal matter that requires I try and
find out more about it.”

“You’re friends with Eleanor, right?”
Michelle asks me. 

I nod.  “Yes, she’s a good friend
of mine.  We grew up close and went to school together.  I want to help her.”

“I see,” Michelle says, nodding. 
“So what do you want to know?”

“I’m looking for information about
how the hospital protects the babies from being removed from the mothers,” I
begin.  “Things like how to prevent baby switches, kidnappings, anything like
that.”

“I’m in charge of that,” Michelle
says.  “Each baby gets an ankle band about ten to twenty minutes after they’re
born.  Then the mother gets a wrist band that coincides with the baby’s ankle band. 
Each one plays a song, and the nurse is supposed to press a button on the band
to play the song when they are taking the baby and returning with the baby.”

“So the song is different for each
band?” I wonder.

“Well,” she continues.  “The mother’s
and baby’s bands are supposed to play the same song.  At any point in the
hospital, none of the babies or mother pairings songs should match any other
baby and mom pairing’s song.  Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” I agree.  “How do you make
sure that none of them are the same?  I’m sure you have to recycle songs here
and there.  I mean, how many could you program?”

“I can program any song I want to,”
Michelle says.  “I craft them to do it.”

“You craft them?” I repeat.  She
nods, smiling slightly.  “What kind of crafting is that?”

“Fire,” she confirms.  “You are
too, aren’t you?”

I nod, my jaw open wide.  “I didn’t
know there were other fire crafters around,” I tell her.  “I heard my dad was
one, and then…” I trail off, not really wanting to mention Ash. 

Michelle shrugs.  “I’m not exactly
a strong fire crafter.  I can do little things, and I’m good at manipulating
technology.”

“I’m awful with technology,” I
laugh. 

She smiles.  “You’re probably
better with natural made fire crafting.  I’m more comfortable with man-made.”

“I didn’t realize there was a
difference.”

“Oh, there is,” she says.  “Huge
difference.  You’re probably a bit telekinetic, right?”  I nod.  “Stuff like
that baffles me.  I’m much better at understanding wiring and technology.  I
should have gone into I.T.”

“Interesting,” I tell her
earnestly.  I’d love to explore this avenue further, but with an hour long
lunch break, I should focus on what I came to find out.  “So you craft the
songs in and keep track of them?  How do you do that?”

“I keep a spreadsheet,” she says. 
“Password protected and everything. “

“Okay.  When the baby was taken,
was Eleanor’s wrist band tampered with?” I wonder.

“No,” Michelle says.  “Hers was
on.”

“What song did Eleanor and her baby
have for their bands?”

Michelle smiles.  “It was ‘Do You
Believe in Magic’ by The Lovin’ Spoonful.”

“Appropriate,” I agree.  “So would
you know whether the baby’s had been tampered with?”

“That’s the thing,” Michelle says. 
“We have security in place to prevent that.  In fact, if a baby’s band is
tampered with, then the entire floor goes on lockdown.  The doors are all
locked from the inside so no one can get in and no one can get out.  Also, if a
baby is removed from the maternity ward with a band on, then we’ll go on
lockdown as well.”

“And that never happened, did it?”
I ask.

“No, never,” she says. 

“Who set up that technology?” I
want to know.

“That was me as well,” Michelle
replies.  “Some hospitals have security systems that are similar, but
Blackwater wanted a crafted one.  We serve a community of crafters and so we
need security that they can’t get past, should anything like that chance to
occur.”

“Why wouldn’t a crafter be able to
‘uncraft’ something that’s crafted?” I ask.  “I mean, wouldn’t someone be able
to just disenchant all of your hard word or something?”

“It’s pretty unlikely,” Michelle
says.  “First of all, like you said, there aren’t many fire crafters.  In order
to really understand how the craft was performed, you’d need to share an
elemental.  Just like you and I don’t really understand how to change the
weather, an earth crafter wouldn’t be able to understand how you would make my
spoon stir on its own.” 

“I can do that?” I say.

Michelle shrugs.  “I’m just using
it as an example.  No idea what you personally can do.  I’ve heard fire
crafting described as moving parts of something around to change them.  While I
can do it with certain things, because I understand how they’re composed, I
can’t do it with other things where I don’t understand how it’s all made up.”

“Okay,” I say, not really
understanding but wanting to move on and get the information I need.  “So you
think the part of the craft where the maternity ward goes on lockdown was
overridden in some way?”

“It has to be,” Michelle says. 
“There’s no other explanation.”

“So who would be able to do
something like that?” I want to know.  “Another crafter, I assume?”

“They would have to be able to
craft,” Michelle agrees.  “And understand fire crafting.  Also, they’d have to
understand the particular crafting I used, which I’ve never shared with anyone,
I swear.”

“I believe you,” I say.  “I
wouldn’t be able to explain to anyone else how I did something that I can’t
explain.”  I laugh as I hear the words coming out of my mouth.  “That probably
doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.”

She nods and smiles.  “It does to
me.”

“So who in this town understands
fire crafting?” I ask her.  “Are there lists of these sorts of things?”

She shrugs.  “Your dad was the
keeper of the Legend, right?  Those lists are usually maintained by the keeper,
but I’m not sure if that information is up to date, nor is it available.”

“No,” I say sadly.  “It wouldn’t
be.”  Of course I’d be reminded of the largest piece of the puzzle that has
remained missing for fifteen years and affects me the most.

“There are a few fire crafters
around Blackwater,” Michelle says.  “You know who you could talk to?  You’re
going around with one of the Lavannes, right?  Ash?  You know he’s a fire
crafter.”

“Um, yeah,” I say.  “Except he’s
gone.”

“Gone?”

“He left town,” I reply.  “I’ve
been sort of hanging around with his brother Theo for the past couple of
days.” 

“Whoa,” Michelle says, leaning
closer to me.  “I’d heard about Ash.  Is Theo also your…?”

I nod, knowing she means catalyst. 
“They both are.”

“Wow,” she says, grinning.  “You’re
like a new generation Lisette Lavanne.”

I sigh.  “It’s not as glamorous as
it sounds.  Theo is the reason Ash left town.”

She nods.  “I’m sorry,” she
replies, sounding sincere.  “Catalysts are tough.  Sometimes you want to hate
them, but you keep getting pulled in.”