Chapter 30
Chapter 30
At the end of the long, narrow hallway was a large mahogany door bearing a plaque that read “Linden Branch Chief’s Office.”
“Wait, Rosie.”
Arthur urgently grabbed Rose’s wrist just as she was about to knock.
“I have something to say. Could you give me some time later?”
His eyes were pleading, but Rose removed his hand from her wrist with cool indifference.
“I…”
Her lips parted as she fought down the turbulent emotions churning inside her.
“Rose. Let’s go.”
James’s large hand inserted itself between them, settling naturally over Rose’s shoulder.
The moment his hand touched her, Rose flinched at the surge of magic flowing into her body, but quickly forced herself to regain composure.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
Before her dry words had even finished, James’s solid knuckles were already rapping on the heavy office door.
After the two of them entered the Chief’s Office, Arthur remained standing alone for a long while in the silent corridor.
[Investigate Robert Burns’s home for evidence of additional crimes or accomplices.]
The assignment the Linden Branch Chief gave Rose sounded perfectly appropriate for a total novice with no investigative background.
But sending someone with no grasp of basic investigative methods into the home of a serial killer who might have had an accomplice was also risky.
Of course, James would accompany her, and agents would be observing to evaluate her performance, so there was no chance Rose would actually be in danger—or so the Chief believed.
James thought the same.
And Rose also chose to believe that.
The industrial district’s back alleys were a maze of cluttered streets. Rose watched James stride confidently through them after glancing at the map just once.
“Mister James, you really are good at finding your way.”
He turned to look at her.
“James.”
“James… you really do know these back alleys well.”
Watching her force his name out awkwardly, he shrugged as though it were nothing.
“That’s because the Dautryche Company has a factory in Linden. I’m familiar with the general layout.”
“Still, memorizing all these twisty backstreets seems impossible.”
“I spent plenty of time here when surveying potential sites.”
He spoke like it was no big deal, moving briskly.
“The back alleys are dangerous. Don’t dawdle.”
The difference between these alleys and Linden’s main street was stark. Small factories belched noise and smoke, workers gathered around crates smoking and drinking, watching them with open curiosity. A few even whistled crudely, but James ignored them and kept walking.
Deeper in, the alleys grew darker, lined with seedy inns, cheap bars, and half-naked women hawking their services. Drunk men yelled and threw things at each other in broad daylight.
“Watch out.”
James’s arm shot out, yanking Rose against him just as a cheap glass bottle arced through the air and shattered exactly where she’d been standing.
A voice yelled lazily from the middle of the brawl.
“Hey, sorry ‘bout that!”
James scowled at the fighting men.
“Knock it off already!”
The street brawlers turned as one, glaring at the interruption.
Rose’s heart nearly stopped. ‘We’re going to get attacked!’
But the mood shifted instantly.
“Ah—hey! It’s Jacob!”
“What, Jacob’s here?”
“Yeah, he came with a woman!”
They crowded toward them with surprising enthusiasm. Rose flinched at the sight, but James just made a lazy shooing motion.
“Go on, get lost. I’m here for work. Not today.”
He spoke in a practiced local accent, rough but persuasive. The thugs hesitated, then backed off with sullen grumbles like schoolboys obeying a teacher they disliked.
Only after they dispersed did Rose let out the breath she’d been holding, eyes wide.
“Jacob?”
James didn’t slow.
“My name here in Linden.”
“Ah!”
“Still uncomfortable with me?”
“It’s not that, it’s just… a bit… strange.”
Her face burned red. Where his large hand held her arm, she could feel his heat, his magic seeping steadily into her body. When he tightened his hold just slightly, she caught his scent more clearly.
She struggled to keep her voice steady.
“More importantly, what exactly did you do here for them to act like that?”
She had enough experience of shady neighborhoods to know how strange their reaction was. Outsiders—especially well-dressed ones—were easy prey in places like this. Yet they had backed down instantly.
James spoke over his shoulder.
“Business ties.”
“Business? With the back alleys?”
Rose’s eyes went wide.
“Told you. I scouted sites for the factory.”
“Ah…!”
She understood now.
“You actually recruited workers here, didn’t you? Directly?”
“More or less. Hired them, fixed a few roads.”
He left out the part about repairing houses and improving their conditions, not feeling any need to brag.
After turning another corner, James stopped in front of an old building.
“We’re here. This is the boarding room Robert Burns rented.”
They climbed the rickety wooden stairs to the top floor. The door waiting for them had no lock at all, just peeling paint.
Rose stopped James with a hand to his arm.
“Wait. Let me try something first.”
James stepped back reluctantly.
“What, exactly?”
“Robert Burns was a Mythos. He might have set traps. I want to check.”
“I can see magic too, you know.”
“I want to scout inside before we open the door.”
She raised her chin, determined.
“It’s a trick I used often for clairvoyance shows.”
James arched an eyebrow.
“Clairvoyance? Don’t think I ever saw that part of your act.”
“You didn’t really watch my shows properly anyway.”
“Then this is the perfect chance to see them up close.”
He crossed his arms, smirking.
Rose shot him a glare, then shut her eyes in concentration.
At her fingertips, a pale green glow of magic gathered.
‘Even though I’ve used this much, there’s still plenty left. The soulmate bond really is something.’
Feeling the ample reserve of magic within her, she clicked her tongue internally, but refocused.
She channeled the wind-aspected magic between the door’s warped planks.
Silence. She inhaled carefully, attuning to the tiny eddies and reflections of magic-infused air.
Like a crude magical sonar.
She visualized the air moving, rebounding off surfaces inside.
“No people. Ugh—rats, though. Clothes everywhere on the walls, five or six at least. And…”
She opened her eyes.
“There’s space under the bed. Hollow.”
James cocked the revolver in his hand.
“Any danger?”
“Nothing magical, at least.”
He stepped forward and pushed the door open. It squealed on rusty hinges, revealing exactly what Rose had described.
The walls were lined with clothes of all kinds—from tattered rags to police uniforms, even expensive suits.
James swept the room with his gun still in hand.
“Looks like a theater costume shop.”
Rose sniffed.
“I told you there’d be a lot of clothes.”
Clearly intended to disguise identities for his killings.
They moved inside carefully.
“You said under the bed?”
“Yeah. There was a breeze coming from there. Could just be shoddy construction, though.”
Rose crouched down on the dusty floor and peered under the creaking bed frame.