A Vigil in the Mourning (Soulbound #4) - Hailey Turner Page 0,14
was pretty sure it had to do with his tainted magic because he hadn’t bothered shielding completely since leaving the hotel earlier. Possibly also because he was flying in and taking over a case someone else already had.
Either way, her annoyance was noted.
“Collins. Nice to meet you,” Kelly said, sounding only slightly dubious. “This is my partner, Special Agent Benjamin Garcia.”
She waved at the stocky older man standing beside her who looked like mornings were the enemy, or maybe just Patrick. The man was older than Patrick by at least ten years, with bits of gray scattered through his dark brown hair and a face that was a little pockmarked on the cheeks. He felt human to Patrick’s magic, which was a normal status for many SOA agents.
Benjamin reluctantly offered his hand for Patrick to shake. The two might not like him being in Chicago, but they were all technically on the same side, which meant everyone had to pretend to be polite. Patrick took that with a grain of salt, knowing Setsuna still hadn’t eradicated all the people with Dominion Sect sympathies out of the SOA. Cleaning house was never easy.
“Were you briefed?” Benjamin asked.
“With what was sent over, but you two have been working the case, so why don’t you tell me what’s going on,” Patrick said.
Letting local agents take the lead in the beginning usually helped smooth things over, but not always. Considering the last time Patrick had been in Chicago he had maybe been responsible for a fire demon scorching the Bean, and, well, it was no wonder no one was happy to see him.
“What do you know about the candidates running for mayor in Chicago?” Kelly asked as she sat down at the conference table. Benjamin took the seat beside her, and Patrick opted to sit opposite them.
“Nothing? Chicago isn’t my city, so I don’t pay attention to your politics unless something hits the national news,” Patrick admitted.
Rather than look annoyed, Kelly just shrugged. “This case might make it there.”
She pushed a folder across the table, and Patrick dragged it closer to him, flipping it open. Inside was documentation he’d familiarized himself with on the plane, along with case notes that hadn’t been included, either due to time or classification levels. Considering they were dealing with politics, it was probably the latter.
Dean Westberg was a man in his late thirties, handsome in a fashion model way, rich by way of a local real estate empire, and looking to break into politics. He seemed to fit the mold of a politician well enough with his background, and had been married for nearly ten years to a socialite, with no known affairs.
His platform was generally that of a conservative democrat, though Patrick could read between the lines easily enough. Westberg might say he didn’t care that people had magic or were part of the preternatural world, but his personal bias was pretty clear. He offered up practiced lip service when it came to those of the preternatural world—meaning he didn’t personally care for them, or the rights accorded them, but would follow the law. His views on magic ran about the same, and Westberg hinted it was his faith that shaped his worldview.
“Looks fine on paper. What’s he hiding underneath?” Patrick asked.
“This is Chicago. You want to do politics here at any level, you have to kiss some rings to do it,” Kelly said.
“Digging up dirt is an Olympic sport in this city. Westberg came to our attention when a criminal informant let us know he was taking rent payments from tenants at some of his slum properties with bits of people’s souls instead of money,” Benjamin said.
Patrick kept his eyes on the file and forced himself not to react to that news. He’d known there was a reason Setsuna had given him this case as cover for searching for the Morrígan’s staff, but he’d had no idea it had to do with criminal actions against a person’s soul. That classified information hadn’t been included in the case file sent over through electronic means, encrypted or otherwise.
“Do you have proof?” Patrick wanted to know.
“Not enough to charge him with anything. Our criminal informant isn’t missing parts of their soul, but the people we’ve tried to interview haven’t been willing to talk. We can’t read their auras without their permission, a warrant, or a subpoena. Westberg has to know we’re investigating him because subpoenas have gone out to third parties and he’s hired lawyers, but the attorney general’s