Walking on autopilot, Ally tapped the message icon as she reached for Sal’s office door. Jumping it as it opened into her hand, she caught the door.
“Someday, that habit will earn you a black eye at the very least,” Sal grumped at her from the other side.
“You would know, Sal,” Ally winked.
“I’ll be right back, make yourself at home,” Sal headed toward the restroom.
Ally sat in the “guest” swivel chair next to Sal’s desk, as she opened the text.
“sure. how about 2pm @maddy’s . you owe me a breve”
Ally looked at the time; that gave her forty minutes. “you’re on. grab the corner table if you beat me there” she texted back.
“So… when did you sleep last, Al?” Sal breezed back into the room, taking her seat at the desk and shuffling folders.
Ally sat up. “You’d be proud of me, I actually slept in my bed for five hours last night,” she grinned.
Nodding, eyebrows raised in approval, Sal opened a folder. “Wow. Turning over a new leaf!”
“Hey, when the M.E. tells me my habits will kill me, I figure you’d be the one to know…”
“Well, it’s either give up driving, or sleep, you know,” mumbled Sal, digging for her report.
“I like my car way too much. So, heart failure?”, Ally slipped her phone into a pocket.
“Technically, both cases. More technically, Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy,” Sal slapped a lab report down in front of Ally. “See these numbers? Massive adrenaline.”
“Taka-sui- whaa?”, Ally looked at the numbers. “You know this means squat to me. Pretend I’m four, Sal.”
Sal sighed. “Heart failure killed them both. While Robert Silva’s heart definitely showed signs of a previous heart attack, Ted Daily’s didn’t. I saw signs of heavy cocaine use, but these numbers?” she tapped the report, “Both men had massive amounts of adrenaline and other catecholamines in their system.”
“Adrenaline. I get that – so they were fighting?”
“No signs of physical contact for either one. No. It’s more like they were frightened to death.”
Sooo… Ally thought, frightened to death? I didn’t know that was a real thing.
Her phone buzzed, and she dodged pedestrians as she read and walked. Maddy’s was nearby, and she needed the walk.
The attached analysis for the dust showed it was primarily carbon, with a heavy dose of sulfur. Well, she thought, that’s weird.
Roasted coffee aroma reached her, and Ally nearly drooled as the cheerful pink and yellow storefront came into view. Michael was inside, in their corner table. She grinned and waved, despite the serious motive for the meeting. He raised a coffee cup as she walked in the door.
“Hey, it was my turn to buy,” Ally objected, giving Michael a big hug. “Oh, I need this,” she hung on a minute longer and his arms tightened.
“Mom says to tell you ‘Hi’,” Michael murmured, rubbing her back.
“Aw, tell Aunt Marjie I miss her, I’m a terrible niece,” Ally replied. He looks good, Ally thought as Michael circled back to his side of the table. She took in the distressed leather jacket, dark shirt, priest’s collar.
“How do you do it?” Ally asked.
“Do…?” Michael looked puzzled as he slid a cup over to her.
“Make that,” she motioned to his outfit, “look cool.” She took the offered coffee with reverential gratitude, inhaling. “Bliss,” she said.
Michael grinned. “You still take a dash of cinnamon with coconut milk?”
Ally nodded, her first sip in her mouth. “I’ve been living on vending machine coffee the last thirty-six hours.”
“Ah, the hot case,” Micael said. “Death at the accountant’s. What can you tell me?”
Ally curled her lip, “Not much…”, looking around she reached into her purse. “I need your … ‘vibe’ on something.”
“So you said,” Michael answered. Closing his eyes, he held his hand out and Ally slipped a plastic bag into his hand. “We really can’t open the bag,” she apologized, “I shouldn’t even have this…”
Michael shuddered, “No need, this is potent.”, his mouth clenched as if with a bad taste. “A focus. Looking. Always looking. Domination. Destruction,” he shook his head, and dropped the bag on the table, opening his eyes. “Holy light, be our guide and guard, what the fuck IS that?” He held the bag up to the light. “Marbles?”
Ally pressed, “You said a ‘focus’. What do you mean?”
Michael replied, “You can’t keep these, Ally, they need to be purified, they will spread evil,” at her stare, he continued; “These are a focus object. They allow a spirit to travel outside it’s prison.”
Ally did a slow blink. “It’s been that kind of day, people keep using words I don’t understand,” she said.
Taking a deep breath, Michael tried again, “You are dealing with a dark spirit, likely a demon-level power, Ally, don’t screw with this. These things -”, shaking the bag and rattling the marbles, “are it’s focus object. It must have a prison somewhere – it could be anything – typically a totem of some kind – like a statue. Everywhere they go, it… goes…”. Their eyes connect over the bag.
“I’m purifying them right now,” he continued, and when she didn’t object, he got out a vial of liquid.
“You carry holy water in a Nalgene?” Ally asked.
“A sanctified one,” he emptied the bottle into the bag. A puff of sulfur, some white residue on the table, and the green marbles faded to clear glass.
“Uh, I guess I kind of tampered with evidence,” Michael said.
“It’s ok,” Ally replied, shellshocked, “no-one would believe me anyway. Hell, I don’t believe me”