Wanted (In More Ways Than One)

A Bed of Roses

Michael scowled at the photograph of Arnold Hodgins and the floating phone. Now suspecting a shapeshifting criminal, he was beginning to think that they were dealing with a vampire. After all, there was the possibility that the photograph hadn’t been edited and the being holding the phone didn’t cast a reflection. There was only a handful of creatures that cast no reflection and a vampire was one of them. Regarding the problem of the ventilation shaft being too small to fit anything human-sized, a vampire’s bat form presented a solution.

Michael loathed vampires.

“What is so fascinating about that photo?” Ishani asked as she briefly took her eyes off the road to stare at Michael in exasperation. “You’ve been carrying it around for days.”

“Floating phone,” Michael mumbled, still glaring at the image.

“Edited so we don’t see the face of the perpetrator,” sighed Ishani. “Why are you still obsessing over it?”

“Because we’ve yet to catch the photographer,” said Michael tersely as he placed the photo in the glove compartment. “There’s still a criminal out on the loose and the entire station seems to have forgotten about it.”

Ishani pursed her lips in annoyance. “A criminal who helped us catch an even bigger criminal. Besides, the guy barely did anything. No damaged property or signs of forced entry. All he did was open a couple of packs of pencils and use a bit of paper. Hardly prison-worthy.”

Michael turned away, barely suppressing a growl. If there was a vampire out there, he was determined to apprehend it before it hurt anyone. Petty criminals were still criminals and vampires were pure evil. He would happily slaughter it if he thought it was a threat to humans.

“Look, you can think about it all you want after this case,” huffed Ishani. “A woman has been robbed and we need to find out where her stuff has gone and who took it.”

Michael said nothing as he continued to gaze through the window. He didn’t want a new case. He wanted to finish the other case. Why was Cunliffe so content to leave the original criminal to roam free?

After a ride down a long, winding drive framed by a beautifully landscaped garden, they arrived at a house that neither Ishani or Michael would ever be able to afford during their lifetimes. It was more of a mansion, really – probably built in the eighteen-hundreds – and it was surrounded by acres and acres of land. There were private stables and a garage large enough to fit five cars. Streams trickled through the grounds and colourful flowers crawled up huge, ornate trellises, giving the impression of archways of roses and bougainvillea. 

The place smelled as sweet as it looked and even the smallest of alpines seemed well cared for. A little distance away, a gardener trimmed dead heads off a hydrangea shrub and placed them carefully in a black bin bag beside his feet.

The two detectives slid out of the car and strode towards the front door of the house, knocking firmly. A woman in her mid-thirties came out to greet them, long, curled hair flowing past her shoulders and makeup as sharply defined as her jawline. She wore expensive jewels and Michael had to force himself not to wrinkle his nose at the overpowering stench of her flowery perfume.

She certainly did not seem like the type to work in a nursing home, as the case file had suggested.

“Mrs... Hinderton?” Ishani asked, sounding just as confused as Michael felt.

“Ms,” corrected the woman before showing her wedding-ring-free hand. “Recently divorced.”

Ishani nodded as Michael subtly turned his nose to the fresh air. The woman’s perfume was beginning to make him gag.

“Nice place,” Ishani smiled and the woman arched a finely shaped eyebrow at her, apparently unimpressed. 

“Yes,” she agreed flatly before turning and waltzing back inside the house without a single glance behind her.

Michael and Ishani shared a surprised look before tentatively shuffling after her.

“I’m Detective Inspector Patel and this is Detective Inspector Wyles. We’re here because you called about a robbery?” Ishani called into the large hall, having quickly lost sight of Ms. Hinderton and unable to guess which of the adjoining seven rooms she had disappeared into.

“Yes, I saw the police car. I’m not blind,” came a curt voice from... somewhere. “Are you coming or not?”

Michael and Ishani glanced at one another before picking a room at random and popping their heads into it. Empty. They chose another room and found that one empty as well.

Ms. Hinderton cleared her throat behind them and they both startled and whirled around to face her. She scowled at them.

“Having a good look around?”

Ishani flushed red and jerked a thumb behind her. “We, uh... we didn’t know which way you’d...” She trailed off weakly as Ms. Hinderton narrowed her eyes.

“First day on the job?” she asked condescendingly and Ishani’s cheeks grew even darker as she opened and closed her mouth, uncertain how to respond.

Michael decided that he didn’t like this human and he sidled a little closer to Ishani, feeling a growl building in his chest, ready to slip past his lips. Instead, he smiled tightly at Ms. Hinderton.

“Speaking of jobs, why don’t you tell us yours?”

Ms. Hinderton turned her unimpressed gaze to him. “I already told the station that when I called earlier. Did you not bother to read the file?”

“We were working on some important cases before we got here. We only had time to skim read the details of yours,” Michael said, a sarcastic smile tugging at his mouth.

Ms. Hinderton looked rather annoyed by the insinuation that her case wasn’t all that important to them and she drew herself to her full height (about an inch shorter than Michael) and paced into the first room on the left. Ishani glanced up at Michael gratefully, still looking a little embarrassed by Ms. Hinderton’s earlier comments, and Michael touched her shoulder reassuringly before marching after the irritating woman.

They were led into a large sitting room that was furnished entirely in white, making it appear unlived-in and impersonal. Like a showroom for expensive furniture and art. There was an incense burner on the coffee table beside the couch and Michael coughed a little at the stink of grapefruit and mandarin, which clashed horrendously with Ms. Hinderton’s sickly perfume. Ishani glanced at him worriedly but didn’t comment and Ms. Hinderton merely eyed him in disdain.

“I work in a nursing home in the next town over. This morning I came off a night shift to find that most of my jewellery had been stolen. That was about an hour ago. I didn’t see anyone take it and no locks have been broken, but my front door was open when I arrived. Now, are you going to find the person that did this or do I have to repeat any of that again?” Ms. Hinderton crossed her arms and glowered.

“Well, robbers are often extremely difficult to catch, especially when there are no witnesses... but we can look for prints and DNA and maybe we can get your stuff back,” Ishani said, voice growing quieter when Ms. Hinderton rolled her eyes.

“Did your gardener see anything?” Michael asked, patience already stretched to its limit. He wanted to get out of this room so he could breathe and Ms. Hinderton’s attitude irritated him more than the cloying aromas.

“How should I know?” she huffed.

Michael smiled sharply before whirling on his heel and gesturing for Ishani to follow. She scurried after him and he inhaled the outside air deeply as he made a beeline for the gardener. 

“She’s awful,” Ishani whispered and Michael nodded in agreement as Ishani continued, “I’m not sure I want to help her.”

“Duty calls,” grumbled Michael as the gardener spotted them and paused his deadheading to smile and wave at them. He at least seemed more amiable.

Young too, with wavy, caramel-coloured hair that tickled his shoulders, amber eyes that shone with mischief, and a tanned complexion that suited working outside all day. He was a head shorter than Michael, barely taller than Ishani, and his smile was bright and welcoming. He didn’t look particularly weak, but it was obvious that he wasn’t a regular at the local gym either. Ishani immediately perked up, taken in by his handsome features and probably just happy to talk to anyone that wasn’t Ms. Hinderton.

“Hi!” Ishani called as she flashed her police badge. “D.I. Patel and D.I. Wyles. Mind if we ask you a few questions about the robbery this morning?”

The gardener nodded with a grin and Michael felt himself relax a fraction, pleased that one person seemed willing to speak to them. 

However, as he drew nearer, he picked up on a repulsive, familiar scent and he froze, staring at the gardener in alarm. The gardener stared back with wide eyes, clearly offended by Michael’s scent, and his smile wavered.

Oblivious, Ishani came to a halt before the vampire and Michael bared his teeth threateningly, warning him not to hurt her. The stranger smiled brightly at him before dusting his hands off and turning his attention to Ishani. Michael joined her quickly, feeling himself straightening to his full height as he glared at the vampire. 

His instinct was to shift into his canine form and tear the vampire apart and his skin itched as the stench of rotting corpses grew stronger. Vampires smelled absolutely vile and it was a good thing that humans couldn’t smell them because Ishani would probably assume there was a body buried in the garden somewhere.

“Ezra,” greeted the gardener as he offered his hand. “Ezra Romero.”

Ishani shook it firmly before recoiling in surprise. “You’re freezing!”

Ezra grinned sheepishly. “The perils of working outside in England.”

Liar, thought Michael viciously. Vampires always had cold skin.

Ishani rubbed her hands together. “You sure you’re not a vampire?” she teased and Ezra raised his eyebrows briefly before chuckling and shaking his head.

“I wish. I wouldn’t be deadheading Ms. Hinderton’s flowers if I was. I’d be brooding in a huge castle in Transylvania, looking all sexy and mysterious in my black cape.” He winked at her and she giggled and Michael bit back another growl.

“Where were you this morning between the hours of seven a.m. and nine a.m.?” Michael interrupted and Ezra arched an eyebrow at him playfully.

“Ooo am I a suspect, Detective?”

“Answer the question, Romero.”

“Michael!” Ishani snapped and Ezra winked at him when she turned her back.

A growl threatened to erupt from Michael’s throat. “Well, he is.”

Ishani shot him a withering glare but Ezra shrugged. “I was here. Deadheading for the most part.” He jerked his thumb towards the nearly-full bin bag. “Carting that around for the rest of the time.” He pulled a face. “Afraid I didn’t see anyone else enter the house though. Just me and the bin bag.”

“And no one else left, either?” Ishani asked, dismayed.

Ezra shook his head. “Not that I saw.”

“Perhaps you can tell us why you were in the house?” Michael bit out, earning himself another glare from Ishani.

Ezra smirked. “Think I stole Ms. Hinderton’s jewellery?”

“I’m just doing my job,” Michael said icily. “So, what were you doing in the house?”

Ezra laughed, apparently delighted by Michael’s hatred for him. “I poured myself a cup of tea. It’s still in the sink if you’d like to check.”

“We definitely will.”

“No, we won’t,” huffed Ishani before shaking her head and smiling apologetically at Ezra. “I’m sorry. He’s been grumpy all day.”

“I have not.”

“You’re always grumpy,” grumbled Ishani before turning to Ezra again. “I’m afraid there’s not much more we can ask. Thanks for your help though.”

“No problem,” Ezra said before glancing over at the enormous house. “Big place for a woman on a carer’s salary, don’t you think? I wonder how she affords it?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” growled Michael, the urge to tear into the vampire growing stronger with every passing second. Suddenly, Ezra gazed at him sharply.

“Aren’t you a little curious though? If she’s a secret billionaire, why is she still working?”

“Perhaps she enjoys taking care of people,” Michael snapped and Ezra scoffed at him.

“Does Ms. Hinderton seem like the type of person to enjoy caring for the old and sick?”

“How judgemental of you,” sneered Michael.

Ezra glared at him darkly, all traces of humour vanishing. “Just think about it.” Suddenly, he brightened up again and thrust the bin bag at the bewildered Ishani. “Mind looking after my bag whilst I get the hedge trimmer from the shed?”

Ishani glanced at the bag and grasped it slowly. “Uh... sure?”

Ezra saluted in appreciation before jogging towards the back of the house and Michael glared at his retreating back until he was out of sight. Ishani smacked his arm and he startled.

“What was that about? He was nice and you were absolutely awful!” Ishani hissed.

Michael rolled his shoulders. “I just... got an odd feeling about him,” he lied before gesturing to the bag. “And we’re police! He shouldn’t be asking us to hold his bag of dead flowers.”

Ishani rolled her eyes and bounced the bag on her foot. “It’s heavy,” she commented idly, bouncing it a little higher.

It jangled.

Ishani and Michael paused and stared at one another before Ishani opened the bag and removed the top layer of dead flowers. At the bottom of the bag, nestled amongst the wilted roses, glistened Ms. Hinderton’s missing jewellery.

Michael bolted after the gardener, ignoring Ishani’s surprised shout, and when he rounded the house, he spotted Ezra leaning casually against the shed with a wide grin. He waved at Michael, winked, and suddenly shifted into a tiny Honduran white bat before taking flight. Michael watched him shoot into the sky, a furious snarl bursting from his throat.

“Romero!” he yelled and the bat chirped almost playfully before racing away.

Michael prowled back to Ishani, teeth grinding together and knuckles white. 

“At least we can give Ms. Hinderton her jewellery back?” Ishani offered weakly.

“We had him. He was right there and we let him get away,” Michael muttered angrily.

“We have a name,” Ishani tried.

“Probably a fake one,” Michael spat and Ishani recoiled from him, almost nervously.

He sighed. He didn’t want her to be frightened of him. He didn’t want any innocent human to be frightened of him. He turned to her wearily. 

“I’m sure Ms. Hinderton will be thrilled to have her jewellery back.”

Ishani slowly relaxed and began fishing the jewellery out of the bin bag. Once she had collected it and deposited half of it into Michael’s arms, she tilted her head.

“I wonder what he meant about the house? Y’know, the comment about Ms. Hinderton affording it on a carer’s wage? Why was he so bothered about it?” 

Michael shrugged and began making his way over to the house, but Ishani apparently wanted to pursue this new train of thought.

“Oh! What if he knows something? I mean... why else would he just give us the jewellery? Maybe he wanted us to talk to him? Maybe he was trying to tell us something!”

Michael arched an eyebrow at her. “Or he just wanted the attention. Cocky thieves like to be noticed.”

“I’m not convinced,” Ishani said as they stepped into the house. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I think he was trying to tell us something about Ms. Hinderton.”

Michael shook his head in exasperation and forced a pleasant smile when the aforementioned lady swooped in front of them with a thick scowl and folded arms. 

“What do you want now?”

Michael nodded to the glittering jewellery in his arms. “I believe these are yours?”

Ms. Hinderton blinked, obviously stunned, and snatched a handful of necklaces and rings from him. She inspected them closely before snapping her suspicious gaze to the two detectives. 

“That was quick. Where did you find them?”

“Your gardener,” Michael said curtly, attempting not to gag at the lady’s perfume. “Seems as though he was undeserving of your trust.”

Ms. Hinderton looked genuinely surprised. “How awful. I never thought Joshua would stoop to thievery. He always kept to himself.”

Michael furrowed his brows. Joshua must have been the fake name the vampire had given. Or perhaps that was his real name? 

Ms. Hinderton continued with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I did wonder why he came on his week off. Said he was going back home to Zimbabwe because his mother was ill. Clearly, he was lying.” She paused, a frown gracing her features. “Or perhaps he was going to sell the jewels for money to help his sick mother?” She shrugged. “Either way, he’s not welcome back.”

Ishani’s eyes widened. “Wait, back home to Zimbabwe? Ms. Hinderton, is Joshua black?”

Ms. Hinderton scoffed and eyed Ishani disdainfully. “Was that not obvious when you spoke with him earlier?”

Ishani cast Michael an alarmed glance and Michael stared at Ms. Hinderton in wonder.

“Are you aware that the man claiming to be your gardener today was a white man by the name of Ezra Romero?”

Ms. Hinderton tilted her head slightly. “No. I don’t pay much attention to the staff. Who’s this Romero?”

Michael smiled tightly as Ishani shook her head. “We’re not sure. We assumed he worked for you, but obviously he isn’t associated with your... staff?” Ishani said, looking uncomfortable with the idea of Ms. Hinderton not knowing all that much about the staff she employed.

“Obviously not. Does this mean that Joshua didn’t steal from me?”

“Apparently not,” Michael said as he handed over the rest of the jewellery. “We’ll investigate this new character. Let us know if you find anything else missing.”

Ms. Hinderton snorted as she took her jewellery from Ishani. “I’d better not get my hopes too high if you two are on the case. You nearly made me fire poor Joshua and you couldn’t even catch this Romero when he was standing right in front of you. I thought the police were better trained than that?”

Michael narrowed his eyes, patience worn to its limit; he was tired of Ms. Hinderton’s barrage of insults. He smiled pleasantly. “You have a very nice house, Ms. Hinderton. I wasn’t aware that carer’s work paid so generously.”

“Inheritance,” Ms. Hinderton corrected sharply, eying Michael as though he was a maggot. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Your parents must have been extremely wealthy. I’m sorry they died so young,” Michael said, aware that he was being unprofessional. This woman grated on his nerves though, and perhaps there was some truth to Ezra’s comments.

“The house belonged to my grandparents,” snapped Ms. Hinderton, “and I’d very much like you to leave it.”

Michael held his hands up and sauntered towards the door, Ishani eying him in confusion. When they reached the front door, Michael paused and glanced over his shoulder.

“Perhaps the house is your parents’ then and you’re just inhabiting it? Perhaps all of this is your parents’ wealth, which is why you’re still working?”

Ms. Hinderton grew red-faced. “I choose to work! I don’t need the money! This is my house, not my parents’. Now, get out before I throw you out!”

Michael nodded slowly, making a show of looking around the ornate crystal chandeliers and expensive marble floor. He tilted his head at Ms. Hinderton curiously. “You just don’t seem like the type of person to enjoy caring for other people.”

A flash of something akin to panic disappeared from Ms. Hinderton’s face almost as quickly as it had appeared. She scowled and pointed outside as she screamed, “Get out!”

Michael closed the door behind him and ignored Ishani’s shocked staring. Ms. Hinderton’s reaction was very telling; she was hiding something and it seemed as though Ezra Romero – whoever he was – knew about it.

“That was... unlike you,” Ishani commented quietly as they made their way towards the car. “I don’t think you’re supposed to speak to the victims like that.”

“You’re the one who thought Romero was telling the truth,” Michael replied. “I was merely... putting out feelers.”

Ishani quirked a lopsided smile. “If Cunliffe finds out that you did that...”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Michael said drily and Ishani chuckled as they slipped into the car. 

“I think I like this bad boy side of yours. Bit of a turn-on.”

Michael wrinkled his nose in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Ishani slumped in the passenger seat and sighed, long and heavy. “Never mind. Let’s get back to the station.”