Dreadful Delights

A Mysteriously Unhinged Death (Crime)

"No." How she manages to pack so much sarcasm into her small voice never fails to amaze me. It takes all my composure to remain stoic. My partner, however, is hardly amused. "I'm here for some ice cream and slumber party chit chat with you security-guards-on-acid cops at your own station. Yes, for the third time. I'm confessing to a murder." As she crosses her arms, a lock of her shadow black hair falls over her eyes.

Even from the corner of my own, which I keep trained on her, I see the pulsing vein in Lade's neck. His fingers twitch, surely from the eagerness to just have her sign the paperwork and throw her in the cell. Most of the cops here wouldn't utter a word of disapproval. No, more likely they'd cheer him on considering all the trouble she causes.

"You're wasting our time. Our valuable time. Time that can be spent helping real victims. Solving real cases." Lade's fingers are now curled into a tight fist.

"Sure," she scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Well then, that's all the more reason you should be thanking me. I did your job for you by coming here myself. Saved you some valuable time."

Before Lade's fist flies, I step in. "There has been no such murder. You can see how this confuses us."

Her eyes shift to my direction and narrow into bronze slivers.

"Nice of you to finally join in on the fun, Mr. Detective." The "v" lingers between her lower lip and teeth. Done purposefully, no doubt.

"There has been no report of this murder. Nor is there any evidence of wrongdoing."

"What a conundrum. No one's been murdered. Yet, here I am telling you I murdered someone. Stabbed multiple times. That's not even the worst part. What really killed her is—"

The phones ping. Lade looks through the message and says, "I'll go."

I turn my attention back to her; she's been watching me.

"What is it you seek to accomplish, Angelisa?"

At once, her eyes sharpen and the air around us burns with intensity.

She grits her teeth and growls, a feral cry of a wounded beast. After a moment of silence that almost stings, her words come as a cutting whisper. "Don't ever call me that again or you'll be so dead that you couldn't be sorry."

Lade walks back into my office. "Longuise."

"What?" I respond with more force than I intended.

"There's been a murder." He swallows before he continues, the words falling out of his mouth. "Stabbed. And her wings..."

"What about them?"

"Missing. Torn from her flesh," she answers. "Do I have your attention now, detectives?"

Lade and I both look at her.

"Follow the faerie dust, Detective Double L's. Your killer's hunting season is just beginning. And you're already too many steps behind. Lucky for you, I'm going to help."