Spring's Calling (A Season of Magic Urban Fantasy Novel) by Sarah Biglow

Author:Sarah Biglow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sarah Biglow

Seventeen

With a few swipes, we had Kevin’s ex-girlfriend’s address and were on the road, heading back toward my own stomping ground. If the information we had was accurate, she was in a fourth-floor walk-up out near Boston College. We pulled into a free spot and, armed with Kevin’s file, we rang the buzzer. No one came on over the intercom system, but we got lucky and an older gentleman came out of the building a few minutes later. He gave us a courteous nod and held the door open for us.

Déjà vu hit me as we walked upstairs. It wasn’t the same as notifying Mrs. Cho of finding her husband’s body but the trek up to question a potential witness filled me with the same nervous energy. I reached the apartment door first and banged hard twice. I heard footsteps from within and took a step back, reaching for my badge, when the door swung open with enough force to send it slamming into the opposite wall.

“What do you want?” a guy in his thirties with a scraggly beard and buzzcut demanded.

“We’re with the police,” I answered and held up my badge.

His eyes went wide and he coughed. “The pot’s legal. I swear.”

“We’re looking for Gabrielle,” I said, ignoring his marijuana-fueled confession.

“She’s at work.”

“And where would that be?” Jacquie interjected.

“A little hole-in-the-wall Italian place in the North End.”

I tried not to roll my eyes. “You realize that describes almost every restaurant in the area. We’re going to need a name.”

Buzzcut disappeared into the apartment and appeared with a business card for a restaurant I hadn’t heard of. “Great. Thanks.”

“So, we’re cool about the pot, right?”

I smiled. “Have a good day.”

We were halfway down the stairwell when Jacquie asked, “How do you feel about an early lunch?”

Just before 11:30 we sat in the back booth of a cramped restaurant with sticky laminated tables. I wasn’t expecting greatness from the cuisine, but we’d specifically requested to sit in Gabrielle’s section so our trip was at least headed in the right direction. A busser brought by glasses of room temperature water before Gabrielle stopped by. Time had deepened the scowl lines around her mouth and her hair was shorter and done in a pixie cut, which mildly resembled Kayla’s, but it was definitely the girl from the photo. Despite the chilly weather outside, she wore a shirt that showed off her shoulder and the faded tattoo. The sight of the mark in person sparked panic, tightening my chest so it hurt to breathe. Almost on autopilot a burst of strawberry-scented magic erupted around me. The waitress’s nose flared and she took an almost imperceptible step away from me.

“Are you Gabrielle?” I asked before the girl could speak.

“Yeah. What can I get you?” The flatness of her tone gave away how bored she was standing there having to wait on us.

“A few minutes of your time to answer some questions,” I said, flashing my badge.

Her back went ramrod straight and her eyes darted side to side, as if to check if anyone had noticed.

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