Sins of the Demon (Kara Gillian 4)

“That’s a relief,” she said, a satisfied smile curving her mouth. “Is Eilahn finished with the basement?” Jill asked as she gave the nyssor a hand out of the car.

“Hope so,” I said. “It’d be bad enough if people saw the diagram and all the other stuff in my basement, but that would simply brand me as a weirdo.” I snorted. “I think I have that designation pretty well sewn up right now anyway. It’s the storage diagram I’m most worried about. I can’t risk pictures of it leaking out.” I glanced over at the Crown Vic. “Looks like Ryan might be helping her as well.” I had to grin at the image of those two working together.

“Safe,” Votevha said abruptly.

I gave him a nod. “Thanks. Jill, why don’t you take Votevha around back. There’s no need for them to talk to either of y’all.”

She nodded and complied, mouth tight as she and the demon headed around the house. About half a minute later it was clear that Eilahn had deactivated the protections, because the men seemed to remember why they were there. They continued up the driveway, and parked about twenty feet from the house. I fought to keep a neutral expression on my face. Despite my preparations and the support of my friends, my stomach was a churning mess, and only a fraction of it was due to the cuff on my arm.

I didn’t recognize the deputy who stepped out of the St. Long Parish Sheriff’s Office vehicle. Ruddy complexion, stout build with a slight pot belly, and bright red hair cut in a flat top. His duty belt held a Sig Sauer .45 on one side and a Taser on the other. He gave me a nod and a thin, polite smile. “Miz Gillian?” he asked.

I didn’t bother correcting him with “detective” since it didn’t matter right now. “That’s me. They dug up probable cause for a search warrant? Or are y’all here to sing Christmas carols?”

He gave me a wider smile that revealed a number of gaps in his teeth. “I love me some carols, ma’am, but these folks have a warrant to serve.” It was a Beaulac PD case, but since I inconveniently lived outside of city limits they needed an observer and representative of the St. Long Parish Sheriff’s Office.

Tracy Gordon climbed out of the Beaulac PD car, looking deeply uncomfortable at the whole situation.

“You know I have to do this, right, Kara?” he said, apology etched into his dark features.

“It’s cool, Tracy,” I said. “It’s bullshit, but the sooner this is over with, the sooner I can get back to figuring out who the fuck is behind all this.”

Cory walked up to join Tracy. “It is bullshit,” he muttered. Then he swept his gaze over the exterior of my house and the decorations. “Holy shit, Gillian. You have the whole fucking north pole here.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “My, ah, roommate was expressing herself.”

My front door opened, and Ryan stepped out. He gave the various cops a polite nod, closed the door behind him, and came down the steps to join me. I gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks,” I murmured.

“Anytime,” he said, warm affection in his eyes.

A fourth car came down the driveway and parked next to Sarge’s. “Who’s that?” Ryan asked.

“That’s my chief,” I told him. “He’s cool. He’ll make sure this doesn’t become…” I trailed off as both doors opened, and the chief and Mayor Fussell exited the car.

“Oh, hell no.” I strode forward. “With all due respect to both of you, Chief Turnham, he—” I jabbed a finger at the mayor “—is not allowed into my house.”

Chief Turnham gave me a pained look. “Detective Gillian—”

“No,” I stated as firmly as I could. I planted myself in my driveway between them and my house. “He’s not law enforcement. He has zero jurisdiction or authorization to enter my residence. I absolutely do not give consent for him to enter.”

I swung around to the deputy who was watching the proceedings with thinly veiled amusement. “If he sets foot anywhere inside my residence or any of the outbuildings, I intend to press charges for trespassing.”

The deputy grinned, spat a stream of brown onto my gravel. “Works for me.”

The mayor narrowed his eyes, then turned to the chief. “Robert, are you going to put up with this?”

Chief Turnham looked from me to the mayor and spread his hands. “Not much I can do. She’s right.”

Mayor Fussell’s face flushed red as he rounded on the deputy. “This woman is suspected of serial murder. Do you seriously intend to keep me from assisting in the search for evidence?”

The deputy spat another stream of tobacco juice then hiked his belt up. “With all due respect, yer mayorness, you ain’t a cop,” he drawled in his thick country accent, “and Louisiana Revised Statute title fourteen section sixty-two point three says that if she says yer ass can’t go in there and you do, then I can arrest yer ass.” He folded his arms over his broad chest and smiled a gap-toothed smile at the mayor.

Mayor Fussell’s face went cold, and he turned and stalked back to the car without another word. The chief sighed heavily. “Gillian, I respect that you have the right to ban him from your house, but was that really necessary?”

I met his gaze. “I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t, sir.” And why the hell is Mayor Fussell so keen to get inside my house?

I leaned against my car, crossed my arms over my chest. Ryan came beside me and crossed his arms in an echo of my stance. I couldn’t match his dark glower, though. I needed to work on that.

I saw that Jill and Votevha had retreated to the back of the house and were sitting on a bench, observing with a careful disinterest. There was no way to know where Eilahn had gone, but I knew she’d stay out of sight. I continued to give the mayor the stink eye while the others entered my house. Tracy gave me another look full of regret as he followed the rest in, a camera slung about his neck. Usually someone from the crime lab came along on search warrants to photograph and record the scene.