“You are a worthy advisory,” Borjas says, twirling a pen around his fingers. The thought of throwing it at one of the four suspects who could be getting away with murder has crossed his mind four times. He knew doing that would only hurt his cause. He was not only familiar with police brutality charges but somewhat of an MVP at the department for that.
“It helps when the ancestors are on my side,” Luke says, his white eyes fading back to his natural eyes. Borjas had never had the pleasure of dealing with a lawyer that could use spirit magic until now. He hoped that Salib could counter it, but he proved more of a match than either of them could have imagined.
“Yeah, I imagined that could help a lot. I normally have my own access to the spirit realm, but this time it’s pulling up blanks.” Borjas says, cutting eyes to Salib.
“His link to his ancestors is powerful. They must have all been lawyers.”
“Indeed they were.” Luke smiles. Lucas laughs, but it’s cut short when Borjas throws the pen right by his head.
“Whoops, it just slipped out of my hand,” Borjas gives his famous grin.
“That could be a charge of assault on my client, Detective.”
“What makes you say that? Lucas here wasn’t hurt, and it was clearly an accident.”
“Your own cameras have you taped throwing it at my client.”
“You mean the client that hasn’t paid three years’ worth of taxes? Has undocumented workers? Oh, you mean the guy who runs and operates the biggest racist and hate group in west Los Mitichas. I’m sorry, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you how much time that could get a person. Your ancestors have probably already ran the numbers on that.”
“Detective,” Luke clears his throat. “He isn’t being brought up on charges for any of those crimes, and you have no proof of any of those.”
“Welcome to Humans Understanding Mastery Above Non-Humans. Here at H.U.M.A.N, we believe that it is our duty to show the world the favorite race of the Gods. Yada, yada, yada. Oh look, The founder and admin of the group, Lucas Mendez. That couldn’t be you, Mr. Mendez? You would never be so foolish as to put your name on a Hate group’s website, knowing that hate groups are illegal in all of the Heartland’s territories.” Salib says, reading off of her phone.
“They are not a Hate group. They are a private organization that gathers like-minded people together to talk about their views, as is protected by their constitutional right.” Luke rebuts.
“Well, if I’m looking at this right, this ‘private organization’ uploaded a video of assault and battery of the victim last night.” Salib shows a video of the men taunting and bullying a Demon in an alley.”
“There is nothing that indicates that these are my clients.” Luke’s voice is waning. He can’t believe that they would do something so stupid.
“Damn it, Albert, put that phone away. Marcus, take that from him.” One of the men says on the video.
“Don’t fucking touch me, pendejo. Lucas, Don’t ever tell this marica to take my phone. Oye Cabron, come take it if you want it.” The men continue to argue on the video for another five minutes. Borjas starts twirling another pen as the video plays.
“That won’t hold up in court. It’s too dark to identify any of my clients, and still, it doesn’t show any of the murder the victim.”
“Maybe not, but it’s enough to keep them in custody, and if you look closely,” Borjas mocking beckons them closer. Pointing with his pen. “You can see the knife is on Mr. Lucas’s belt right there. It won’t take much to link these cute matching knives to identify these idiotas to the crime.”
“Those knives are cheap and very common. I think I may even have one in my tool kit. Are you going to arrest me too?” Luke’s voice is losing confidence the more Salib digs.
“No, don’t think I will. But your knife has never been at the scene of a murder investigation either. Well, any that we know of.”
“All of this is just circumstantial. You can hold them for questioning,”
“I intend to,” Borjas cuts him off.
“But you can not have them tried for murder. No murder weapon, no murder case. It’s as simple as that, Detectives.”
“Come on, Luke, you know as well as I do that it’s only a matter of time before we find the knife. Give me one of them, and the rest can go. There is no reason for all of them to go down. It’s clear that one of them acted alone. So we can get a slap on the wrist for the other three, but one of these guys is going to have to go down.”
“Again, Detectives, if you don’t have a murder weapon, then you don’t have a murder case.”
“Come on, boys, are you really going to let this guy let all of you go down for a crime you didn’t commit?” Borjas starts to persuade the suspects. They look among themselves as they think about their options. Then there is a knock at the door. Officer Chevalier walks in with an evidence bag, and Borjas and Salib can barely contain their excitement. Placed in front of them is a bag with a bloody knife. Lucas’s bloody knife.
“Has it been swept for prints?” Salib says, nearing a squeal.
“It’s a positive match for Mr. Lucas’s prints and the blood of the victim.”
Borjas slaps the table letting out his feeling of being overjoyed.
“Looks like we have a murder case.” He says, grinning.
“Have a good night.” The night shift clerk says to Victor, but all he hears is ‘get the fuck you of here.’
“You too,” Victor returns pleasantly, happy to be as far away from her as he can. If only he liked all his coworkers the way he likes Emma.
Tapping the clock-out button and watching the green checkmark confirm his dismissal of this horrid place, he zips up his hoodie and walks out the door. Even as a native to Los Mitichas, Victor could not understand the massive mood swings of the weather. Last night was freezing, but tonight had to be at least thirty degrees Celsius. Finding that his hoodie would be too much, he strips it off and tosses it over his shoulder.
Enjoying the warm weather, he finds his feet want to take him to treat himself for another day of being a good father and husband. Following the sound of folk music and country, Victor finds himself Ole Bard’s Retreat. Back at the bar, rather. Last night, he enjoyed the show and needed to treat himself for masterfully eliminating his competition and getting closer to the money he needed for vampire dust and a musgravite dagger.
The dagger he has isn’t powerful enough to clear all the impurities out of Isabelle, So an upgrade is due. A dagger like that costs upwards of fourth thousand. He needed to close that gap quickly. Luckily, people would pay well for his dagger collection. Victor no longer needed his crystal, opal, or blue diamond one after a musgravite dagger.
He would need to be careful. With the rarity of musgravite, it was monitored very closely by the magic council. Not that he would have trouble obtaining it or worry about explaining such a purchase. Other magic users could see that, and with a weapon that powerful, there would be plenty that would want to get their hands on it.
Good music and the smell of bar food pushed Victor’s worries away for now. Getting few greetings from some of the regulars, Victor tips his hat and heads to the bar. His grin would be suspicious had he not been in a bar, but seeing the latest news that Lucas would be taking the fall soon, he couldn’t help himself. He orders his two rounds of tequila and enjoys the show.
“Too bad that Lucas is going to get pinned with this.” The Bartender says, setting down the two shots for Victor. Victor makes quick work of the first shot to hide his smile. When he slams the shot glass down, his face is a little more trained.
“We all told those boys to cool it. You can’t help everyone, though,” Victor says.
“But everyone in here knows those boys didn’t do it. Hell, Lucas can’t even kill a deer, let alone a Demon.”
“But it’s all about appearances. And those boys are making themselves look pretty bad right now.”
“Callate! Don’t act like you feel sorry for those boys. You’ll pick up their business in no time, and you guys were never friends.”
“Calmete mi amigo. We may not have been friends, but I don’t want to see one of us go down. Pretty soon, we may all be labeled as racist. That’s bad for business for all of us.” A lie Victor had planned since last night. He knew this would come up.
“You say that, but those boys going down could be nothing less but a Godsend for you.”
“Sure it is. I’m not going to lie and say it isn’t. But rivals or not, I wouldn’t wish this on them.”
“Whatever, if I didn’t know any better, I would say that you set them up.”
“Me? The person who practices Demon magic is going to kill those I draw power from?”
“You know what they say about that dark magic. It corrupts people.” Victor was getting the feeling that being here is a bad idea.
“I just came here to have a drink after work like the rest of us,” Victor takes his second shot and tosses cash on the counter. “But I see that I need to get home.” Victor spins in his barstool and walks out.
“Yeah, get back to your whore and that bastard. I’m sure they are the only ones who will believe your lies.” Victor stops dead and feels as his magic rushes to his brain, and he unleashes a little of his power. He turns and faces the Bartender showing his black eyes as a warning. “Go on, show us who the real demon is,” The Bartender says. Victor realizes that this is not the time or place to lose his temper.
“No one talks about my family, Cabron,” Victor says, then spits on the floor. “Take up for those raciest and keep calling me the bad guy. But none of you are half the man I am.” Victor turns towards the door and storms out. He nearly hits a gentleman on the way out.
“Sorry, sir, I didn’t see you there,” Victor says, checking to make sure the man is okay.
“Nah, not a problem. I’ve had worse done by people I know.” There is a light chuckle. “Seems like your a real hoot in there.”
“Ah, you heard that. I’m usually more composed than that. They just make me so mad.” Victor finds himself oddly familiar with the gentleman.
“Sounds like you could use a cigarette and an ear.” The gentleman says, with a generous offer of premium rolled tobacco.
“That sounds nice,” Victor says, striking up a conversation with the green-eyed stranger.