“Can we come in?” said Knox.
“Come through to the kitchen.” Wyatt led the way into a small, bright kitchen. “What’s wrong?”
Expression grave, Knox spoke, “Talia is dead.”
For a brief moment, Wyatt said nothing… as if not comprehending the words. “What?”
“Both Talia and her apartment went down in a blaze of hellfire, but the rest of the building is fine. It was clear that she alone was the target.”
“Hellfire?” Wyatt’s gaze sharpened. “She was murdered. Jesus.”
“Someone trapped her inside and killed her. She was screaming for them to let her out, but they didn’t.”
Cursing, Wyatt gave a sad shake of the head. “I’ve watched hellfire burn people alive. It has to be a horrible way to die.”
Harper was in perfect agreement with that.
Linda strolled into the kitchen. She almost stumbled to a halt as she studied their faces. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Wyatt rubbed at his nape. “Talia burned to death in her apartment. Hellfire.”
Linda’s face went slack and she gripped the counter. “Oh my God.”
“Any suspects?” asked Wyatt, shifting into detective mode.
“Some believe it may have been her dealer,” began Knox, “though her partner doesn’t seem to think so.”
“It’s always the same with addicts,” said Linda with a sigh. “If the drugs don’t kill them, the dealers do. She chose that lifestyle.”
Harper didn’t like the bite in her voice. “Nobody deserves to die like that.”
Linda blanched. “Of course not, I wasn’t suggesting that she did. I just…”
She was just glad that Talia couldn’t come and take McCauley away, Harper guessed.
Knox glanced at the doorway. “Where’s McCauley?”
Linda hesitated to respond. “He’s upstairs, playing in his room. Why?”
“Has he been there all day?” asked Knox.
She double-blinked. “Yes. He doesn’t spend a lot of time downstairs with us.” And that clearly disappointed her. “He likes his space. Privacy.”
Harper personally didn’t know a lot of six-year-olds that confined themselves to their room and didn’t want attention. It would be one thing if he was in an abusive household, but it was obvious that Linda would enjoy showering him with positive attention. “We’d like to talk to him.”
Linda’s gaze darted from Harper to Knox. “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to break the news to him. He never knew about her. Maybe we could simply tell him that you’ve been unable to find out who his biological mother is – it would be unkind to make him lose a mother twice.”
“That’s not why we wish to speak with him,” said Knox.
Realization flashed across Linda’s face. “You don’t think it was him surely? He’s six, for God’s sake.” When no one said a word, she put a hand over her heart. “I swear to you, he did not leave this house. I would know if he had.”
“Maybe you just didn’t see him leave,” said Knox.
Linda’s lips flattened. “If he could teleport, he would probably have left his human adoptive parents long ago.”
“Not if he had nowhere else to go.”
“He doesn’t even know that Talia was his mother.”
“He could have heard you talking about it.”
“But we didn’t talk about it.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Wyatt objected, ignoring his mate’s glower. “He may have overheard our argument with Pamela, Talia’s mother. I’m not saying he caused the fire, I’m just saying he may have overheard that conversation.”
Knox tilted his head slightly. “You had an argument with Pamela?”
It was Linda who responded. “Talia must have told her about him – probably because she didn’t want her to find out from anyone else. Pamela wanted to take him. She was very insistent.” From her tone, it was clear that she’d felt intimidated by the woman. “We said no. She threatened to involve you, so I pointed out that it was you who left him in our care and that if she wanted that to change then she’d have to consult you.”
“She hasn’t spoken to me about it yet.” Knox pursed his lips. “When did this happen?”
“This morning,” Linda replied. “Even if he did hear the argument, it doesn’t mean he did anything wrong. Teleporting isn’t that simple. He’d have to have an address or an image in his mind of a person or a place he wanted to go. He doesn’t know what Talia looked like or where she lived.”
Phone in her hand, Harper asked, “Does he have access to a computer? To the Internet?”
“Not the Internet,” said Linda.
“What about either of you?” Harper asked the pair.
Wyatt folded his arms. “We use the Internet, yes, why?”
“Because it would be a simple case of finding her on Instagram.” Harper held up her phone, showing them Talia’s Instagram page. “She also has a Facebook profile. In other words, there are ways he could have gotten a picture of her. Surely you don’t spend every moment watching over him. He could have used your computer without your knowledge.”
Linda shook her head. “He’s a sweet boy.”
Harper inwardly snorted.
“He’d never harm anyone,” Linda insisted. “He didn’t even harm the human who cruelly tried to burn him in an oven. No, I won’t believe that he hurt Talia.”
“We still need to speak with him.” Knox turned to Wyatt. “Take me to him.”
Linda opened her mouth to object, but Knox silenced her with a look.
“This way,” said Wyatt. They followed him up the stairs, across the landing, and over to a closed door. He gave it a rhythmic knock. “McCauley, you have visitors.” Without waiting for an invitation, Wyatt twisted the knob and let the door swing open. “You remember Knox and Harper, right?”
Keeping Harper slightly behind him, Knox entered first. He briefly scanned the room. It had been decorated and filled with toys and games that any boy McCauley’s age would love. Linda and Wyatt had clearly spared no expense.
Knox didn’t fail to notice the drawings on the walls – like last time, they were pictures of a family. Two adults, two children, and a dog. In each drawing, they were dressed or posed differently, but the people always looked the same. “Hello, McCauley.”
From his space on the carpet, McCauley looked up at them. “Hello.” His voice was as devoid of emotion as his expression. He stayed very still, his posture unnaturally perfect.
Cocking his head, Knox studied the Lego tower the boy had built. Tall, solidly built, and well-proportioned, it looked like a mock model of a building. Very advanced for a child of six. “You must be a smart boy.”
McCauley blinked.
Knox used his psychic hand to lift a Lego brick and place it on the tower. “Can you do that?”
McCauley shook his head.
Knox feigned disappointment, hoping to prick at the pride of McCauley’s demon. It worked. The boy’s eyes bled to black and then narrowed. Suddenly, dozens of Lego bricks lifted from the carpet and started to circle the tower like planets orbiting the sun.
“Impressive,” said Knox when McCauley’s demon retreated. “What else can you do?”
“Just that.”
It was a lie. Knox didn’t understand why the child would lie about it. It was as if the demon didn’t want to show its power. Was it simply used to hiding, having lived amongst humans for six years? Perhaps. “Did you leave the house today?”
The boy gave a slow, stiff shake of the head.
“Do you know why we’re here?”
“No, sir.”
“I think you do. I think you know what we suspect happened today.” That received no reaction whatsoever. “I killed someone when I was a child,” he said, ignoring Linda’s gasp. “It’s not an easy thing to do. Is it?”
“I don’t know, sir.”