Harley Merlin 2: Harley Merlin and the Mystery Twins Page 17

  Adley sighed once more. “We met in LA, before he was discovered as a magical. He didn’t want to go in and get registered at the time.”

  “You kept him hidden.”

  “Yes. But we both knew we couldn’t keep that up for much longer, so I begged him to come in on his own. He didn’t want to. He said he hated the LA Coven, that he didn’t trust the magicals there. Some stories were coming out in the magical community back then about corruption in the coven. Finch knew some people there, though he never revealed himself as a magical to them either. He pretended to be human.”

  I stared at her. “This is incredible. You knew what a deceiver he was, and that didn’t raise any red flags? Seriously?”

  “As I said, I was stupid!” she replied. “I didn’t want him to stay rogue, though. So, I suggested we move to San Diego. He agreed, and we left LA. I came to the coven first, as the physician. Finch followed shortly afterward.”

  “And you failed to disclose crucial information about him to a coven that had just taken you in,” I pressed.

  “That is correct. And there isn’t a day I don’t hate myself for it. I withheld his Shapeshifter ability. His Telekinesis was known, as was his Earth ability,” Adley explained. “We kept our relationship a secret because, well, we were both new here. I didn’t want people to talk about us. Finch didn’t want us to go public, either. Actually, he was quite adamant about it,” she added, frowning slightly. “That should’ve been a warning sign.”

  “Hey, you were blindly in love, remember?” I sighed, my stomach churning from her mixed bag of guilt and regret. “Were there any signs that Finch wasn’t exactly forthcoming about who he was?”

  “Yeah, there were tiny alarm signals here and there,” Adley said. “I didn’t always know where he went or what he did. He didn’t like it when I asked questions. He’d flip out if I so much as looked at his phone screen. But he was sweet and kind in private, so I let most of that slide.”

  I remembered the medication I’d seen Finch take during our only training session, and I wondered if that played any part in the image he’d built for the coven.

  “He took pills. Do you know what they were or what they did?” I asked.

  “Oh, they definitely had a role in all this,” Adley replied with an energetic nod. “He didn’t tell me what they were, but he took three every day. I stole one when he wasn’t looking and had it tested. A very potent antipsychotic.”

  I went back to the last image I had of Finch, in charmed cuffs, shortly before he was taken away. “I think it makes sense to assume that the Finch we saw in chains was the real version of him, not the pill-popped one,” I said.

  “I had no idea what was hiding underneath,” Adley continued. “Once he was captured, they took all his possessions away, the pills included. They’re in evidence lockup if you need them for anything. The prescribing doctor’s name will be on the bottle. O’Halloran can give you access.”

  “Thank you for that, Adley,” Krieger chimed in. “It might be a good idea to talk to his psychiatrist back in LA… Oh, but then there’s the confidentiality issue.”

  “It would be unethical, but—” Adley paused and laughed lightly. “I’m the last person to talk ethics here.”

  A moment passed in silence, before Krieger spoke. “You know, Adley, I did Harley’s second Reading today.”

  That got her full attention. “Oh. What were the results?”

  “I went deep, this time. She’s not a Mediocre, for starters. She was fitted with a Dempsey Suppressor as an infant,” Krieger said.

  Adley gasped, genuinely delighted from what I sensed. She gave me a broad smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “I’m glad to hear that, Harley! I knew a second Reading would shed more insight into what you are. I’m just sorry I didn’t get to be the one to deliver such news, but… I have crimes to pay for. I deserve my time here.”

  “Oh, and Adley, I’ve taken over your research, as you know,” Krieger added, trying to prevent her from slumping into a sad bubble. “Fantastic work you’ve done, so far. I have a few questions, though, if you don’t mind. There are some notes that don’t make much sense to me. Perhaps you can shed some light.”

  “Of course, Doctor. I’m here and happy to assist with whatever you need,” she replied, smiling. “I was never an enemy of the coven, and I will continue to help however I can, even from my little cell.” She then looked at me. “Will you go see Finch anytime soon?”

  I’d thought about it, sure, but I hadn’t decided yet. “I want to, yes,” I said. “Probably soon, but I’m not sure when.”

  “Well, when you do go see him, can you please tell him I love him?” she asked. “I just want him to know that.”

  My heart ached with sadness and longing—all Adley’s. Even after what had happened, she still loved him. Unbelievable.

  “Why, though?” I asked. “He lied to your face, for years. He didn’t even give a damn about you while you both testified in front of the California Mage Council. Why would you want me to tell him that?”

  Adley smiled, wiping a solitary tear from her eye.

  “You wouldn’t understand. I was with Finch for more than two years, Harley. I know he didn’t fake all aspects of our relationship. He couldn’t have,” she said, her voice shaky. “I know there’s a part of him that loves me back. I know it. Finch’s mind was poisoned by his mother.”

  “That doesn’t change what he did, Adley,” I said.

  “No, of course it doesn’t! But you all need to understand something. I know Finch. He’s a fundamentally good person. I never would’ve stayed with him otherwise. I might have been blinded by love, but even I have my limits. In his day-to-day behavior, Finch was wonderful. He had lapses and dark times, which I’m sure were connected to his mother, but other than that, I’m telling you, he’s a good soul. He was radicalized by Katherine. I’m willing to bet my life on it!”

  Krieger hummed slowly, wearing a pensive expression. “You think he could be swayed back to a socially adjusted, non-criminal individual.”

  “Yes, yes, I do!” Adley replied.

  “He killed people, Adley. All he has to look forward to is Purgatory for life,” I said.

  She truly believed what she was telling us. Whether it was true or not, however, remained to be seen. Though, I didn’t exclude the possibility that Finch had been manipulated by his mother. That, in and of itself, made me wonder whether she could have done the same to my father…

  “True. But that doesn’t mean you can’t get him to help you,” Adley replied, smiling. “You see, there’s a soft side of him that you can reach. Just tell him I love him. He needs to know that he is still loved, Harley. I don’t know if Katherine has any way of reaching him, but I do know that love can be a powerful light in the darkness.”

  “I’ll tell him,” I conceded. “I don’t think it’ll do much, but I’ll tell him in return for your help today.”

  “Thank you, Harley.” Adley sighed, clearly relieved and almost serene.

  “I need to go now,” I said and gave Krieger a polite nod. “I’ll let you talk to Adley about your work. I’m due to meet with Wade and the others.”

  “Be careful out there,” Krieger replied.

  I waved them both goodbye before knocking on the door. O’Halloran let me out with a raised eyebrow.

  “Are you okay, Merlin?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir!”

  I wasn’t. My heart was heavy. My soul was riddled with emotions that weren’t mine. My mind was loaded with billions of thoughts and worst-case scenarios. I wasn’t okay at all. But I was determined to push through and bring the Ryder twins and Katherine Shipton to an end. I’d had enough of this nonsense.

  “Good. I’ll see you in training tomorrow, then!” O’Halloran said, grinning.

  “Wait… What do you mean?”

  “Well, Nomura says you need a trainer for your Esprit. I’m here to oblige, Red. Six am, sharp and early in Training Hall C. Don’t be late!” he bark
ed with his usual grumpy snap.

  I chuckled. “Yes, sir!”

  Sure, I had a Suppressor holding me back. But I could still learn to efficiently control my powers and get the most out of them, given the circumstances. An Esprit amplified what my Chaos could give. Until Krieger could get that thing out of me, I had my Esprit to rely on. I was training to cast magic without it, too, but I’d already made my soul connection to the object. I knew that, if push came to shove, and even without much exercise, my Esprit could still come through for me.

  Nineteen

  Harley

  The Lee family was fairly easy to handle, even though the human parents had to deal with the news that their twelve-year-old adopted son, Min-Ho, was a magical. He’d only just begun to manifest his Herculean and Earth abilities. His mom and dad had suspected that he was different, given how ridiculously fast and strong he was for a little boy.

  At first, they were taken aback, giving Min-Ho a bit of a scare. As a foster kid, he’d already been moved through several homes and was likely hoping that this might be his forever family. Wade let me do most of the talking with his parents. In the end, they were proud and considered themselves blessed to have gotten such an incredible child.

  There were, of course, serious concerns regarding the Lee family. We found a Ryder twins card in the hallway, but, just like with the Cranstons, neither Min-Ho nor his parents had ever spoken to anyone named Emily and Emmett Ryder, or anyone claiming to be from the San Diego Coven. They only had the occasional visit from Social Services, but that was standard practice, due to the adoption laws in California.

  Santana placed charms in every room of the house and left one in the family car for good measure. Wade got the parents to agree to bring Min-Ho to the coven every day, moving him from the human school to our custom-tailored courses and training for young magicals.

  We left them in good spirits but warned them to stay away from anyone they couldn’t verify as actual members of the San Diego Coven, and Wade left them his card in case of emergency.

  As we drove to the Hamms’, the next family on our list, I had a more positive vibe. I felt as though we were off to a good start to the day. I’d learned that I wasn’t a Mediocre, and I’d also spoken to Adley. The Lees seemed safe, for the time being, and other charms from the previous families we’d dealt with hadn’t gone off either.

  “Are you crazy?” Wade blurted as he pulled the Jeep up the Hamms’ driveway.

  I’d just told him I wanted to talk to Finch, since my conversation with Adley had given me potential leads about Katherine Shipton to follow up on.

  “I’m perfectly sane, thank you,” I replied. “I don’t get why it’s a big deal! I need to talk to him. I need to find out more about Katherine Shipton, and he’s the only one who can tell us.”

  “Don’t you think they’ve tried already?” Wade said, getting out of the car.

  Santana and Raffe were quiet, but I could feel their concern and amusement. Wade and I had a knack for entertaining them with our back-and-forths.

  “Maybe he’ll talk to me. We’re family.” I chuckled, but Wade didn’t find it funny. “It’s worth a shot!”

  “Harley, Purgatory is a dark and dreary hellhole. They have ways to make people talk in that place, and trust me, none of them involve asking nicely. You’re not going. It would be useless,” Wade insisted.

  Raffe cleared his throat. “She does make a point. She could play the family card,” he murmured.

  Wade gave him an outraged look. “Et tu, Brute?!”

  “Well, if what Adley said is true, and there is a part of him that’s not entirely evil, a blood tie might work,” Raffe replied with an innocent shrug.

  “I’m confident I can at least try to reason with him. I’ll bet it’s lonely in that cell,” I added. “Wade, seriously, use your investigative brain. Finch is a viable lead. We could try and turn him against Katherine. If the Ryders are working with her, and if we take them down, it’ll give me something to show Finch that, you know, we’re not to be messed with. That he’s on the losing side. Think about it!”

  Wade sighed, then shook his head. “We’ll talk about it later. Come on, we’ve still got work to do,” he muttered.

  We reached the front door. Wade knocked twice.

  Anna Hamm opened, and my heart instantly broke. She’d been crying, her eyes puffy and her mascara smeared. Fatigue came off her in waves, and she was wearing a stained sweatshirt. The poor woman was a broken mess, filled with anguish, grief, and despair. It tore me apart on the inside.

  “Mrs. Hamm, what happened?” Wade asked, frowning.

  She wiped her nose with a crumpled tissue, staring at Wade in confusion. “Who are you? Are you FBI?”

  I felt Wade’s elbow nudge me, instantly kicking me into lie-your-ass-off mode. Based on how quickly we searched through our jacket pockets for the right fake IDs, we were all on the same page. We were no longer introducing ourselves as Social Services workers for the Hamms. We were whipping out the FBI personas.

  Wade was the first to flash his badge. We carried four types of ID in our jackets, at all times—Homeland Security, FBI, Social Services, and the local PD.

  “Special Agent Johnson,” Wade said. “We were told you’re having some trouble. Mind if we come in?”

  “No, please… please, do,” Anna said, then stepped to the side.

  We went in, and I immediately caught the frayed emotions of the father, Frank Hamm, who was in the living room. He, too, had been crying and was genuinely distraught. I saw the photos on the mantelpiece—the Hamms with Marjorie Phillips, a seventeen-year-old they’d adopted a year back. I skimmed through their file to get as much information as possible before handing the folder over to Wade.

  We had to be quick in our answers, so as not to give the Hamms any impression that we didn’t know what we were doing. Professionalism was key here, even when we were lying through our teeth.

  “Thank you for coming,” Anna said as she motioned for us to step into the living room, where she joined us. “Police sent you over, right?”

  “They told us to come, yes, but they didn’t give us details,” Wade replied. “Would you mind walking us through what happened from beginning to end?”

  Anna took several deep breaths and picked up a photo album from the bookshelf. She showed it to Wade. Frank sat down, his hands trembling. They were both worried sick. Something terrible had happened here.

  “That’s Marjorie Phillips,” Anna said, pointing at one of the photos. “She’s an only child. Her father disappeared before she was born, and her mother killed herself when Marjorie was five. She’s been in the foster system ever since.”

  “She’s a good girl,” Frank added, his voice breaking. “She wouldn’t… She wouldn’t have…”

  “We took her in about a year ago,” Anna continued, flipping through the photo album pages for Wade to see them as a family. I stood next to him, catching glimpses of Marjorie, a curly redhead with bright green eyes and a splash of freckles. “She warmed up to us, albeit gradually. It took a while to get her out of her shell, I suppose.”

  “Let me guess, the foster system wasn’t easy on her,” I replied, giving her a sympathetic smile.

  Anna nodded. “She had trouble with some of the previous families, but she never said why. I wasn’t blind, though. I saw the scars. I saw how she flinched whenever Frank got close… She’d been through some terrible things, and Frank and I made it our mission to show Marjorie that life didn’t have to be that way for her.”

  I looked at Frank, whose eyes were tearing up again. “So, what happened, Mrs. Hamm?” I asked.

  “A couple of nights ago she went missing,” Anna said. “She was supposed to be home at six, but she never came back from school. Her phone is off. I left her dozens of texts and voicemails. We put up missing posters, we’ve alerted the police. They said they were going to hand the case over to the FBI because they didn’t have enough resources in the city for a wide radius search.�
��

  “Marjorie is missing,” I breathed the dreadful conclusion. I glanced at Santana and Raffe.

  Santana had brought her duffel bag, filled with small leather charms. “Mrs. Hamm, do you mind if my colleague and I have a look through the house, including Marjorie’s room?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Anna replied, and shifted her focus back to Wade and me, while Santana and Raffe disappeared upstairs. “She wouldn’t have left on her own.”

  “The cops said she might’ve run away. That’s nonsense,” Frank said, shaking his head.

  “You don’t think there’s any possibility of that?” Wade asked.

  “Absolutely not!” Anna blurted. “Just last week she was telling us about how happy and relieved she was to be living with us. She was safe here. She had nowhere else to go.”

  One of the photos drew my attention. It showed Marjorie on the beach wearing a dark green hoodie, her red curls fluffed up by the breeze. She was laughing. Her eyes twinkled in the sunset. I gently pulled the photo out of the album and inhaled sharply when my fingers touched it.

  Fear… Blood-freezing dread… So much emotional pain…

  I didn’t understand how it was possible for me to get a feel for someone from a photo like that, but I was certain that these were all Marjorie’s feelings. The horror was real. The sheer terror cut through me like a knife. She’d felt so sorry to leave the Hamms behind.

  Marjorie had, indeed, run away, but she hadn’t made that choice easily. Something had driven her out of this safe haven.

  I decided to follow my Empath instinct and this weird little glitch with the photograph. “Mrs. Hamm, do you know if Marjorie had any enemies? Anyone she didn’t get along with, maybe?”

  Anna thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “She had a few friends but kept mostly to herself. She’s an artist, you see. She likes being alone. When she paints, it’s just her and the canvas, you know? She didn’t stir any trouble, nothing like that, no.”

  “So, there were no threats made by anyone toward her, directly or indirectly,” Wade replied.