Free Elixir by Ruth Vincent Page A

A lump was forming in my throat as I tried to recount the story. “I don’t know what happened—it must have been an accident.”
    “Where did she fall from?” Officer Diaz asked.
    Crap, what was I going to say? How could I possibly answer that question in any way that made sense?
    “I . . . I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t see where she fell from.”
    I turned my head towards the building. There was the lower fire escape, the one we’d passed on our way up.
    “Maybe from there?” I said, pointing helplessly.
    “Why were you two up on the roof, anyway?” McCleary asked.
    The tone of his voice sounded suspicious.
    “I wanted to show Miss Jones the beautiful view of Manhattan,” Obadiah said.
    “Bit of a cold night to be standing on the roof enjoying the view, don’t you think?” said McCleary. There was a hard edge in his voice.
    “We weren’t up there for very long,” Obadiah said. “We were about to head back downstairs when we saw Mabily’s friend fall.”
    Diaz jotted something down on his clipboard and frowned.
    McCleary turned to us.
    “Miss Jones and Mr. Savage, would you please come with us? We’d like to take you two down to the precinct to answer a few questions,” he said, pointing to the patrol car.
    I didn’t understand why they needed to take us to the police station, why they needed to question us. Surely they didn’t think there’d been any kind of foul play?
    “What about Eva?” I said. “We can’t just leave her.” I looked back towards the ambulance. I could see through the windows of the van that one EMT was in the back with Eva, while the other was in the driver’s seat. They were starting to pull away, the wheels churning up snow.
    “Can’t we go to the hospital with her?” I asked McCleary.
    “She is going to be taken straight to the emergency room,” he replied. “You can’t go in there. Are you her emergency contact? Someone from the hospital will call you if and when it’s okay for her to have visitors.”
    His voice was firm, but not unkind, and I nodded.
    “I just don’t want her to be alone when she wakes up,” I said, but the ambulance was already pulling out of sight. Obadiah put his hand on my shoulder again.
    McCleary interrupted.
    “Sir, ma’am, if you would come with us to the vehicle please?”
    I didn’t see why any of this was necessary, but you don’t argue with a cop.
    “Okay,” I said. “But . . .”
    McCleary turned to Obadiah. “We will need to obtain a warrant for the Crime Scene Unit to investigate the premises.”
    Obadiah nodded, and I could see the fear in his eyes. What if the cops found a way into his secret room?
    A huge crowd of gawkers had poured out the door of Obadiah’s club. They were all humans—the supernaturals seemed to have slunk away at the sight of the cops. The human crowd was loud—talking in fearful voices and pointing at us and the officers.
    “We’d like to talk to you further, but we can’t do that here,” said McCleary, gesturing towards the noisy crowd of bystanders. “If you’ll please come with us. Once we get to the precinct, the investigating detective will want to meet with you and ask you a few questions as well.”
    Investigating detective? Crime Scene Unit? I didn’t understand. This was an accident, and they were treating us like we were criminals.
    “Before you enter the vehicle,” said officer McCleary, “we need to do a pat down for security purposes.”
    “But . . .”
    My voice trailed off. If I started arguing things would only get worse for us. Mutely, I raised my hands over my head and peeled back my coat as instructed, and winced, shivering, as Officer McCleary patted me down, his fingers rough on the delicate fabric of my dress. I felt suddenly self-conscious about what I was wearing. The way McCleary looked at me, it was like this short dress was “evidence” of something. I scowled up at him.
    “Aren’t you supposed to have a female officer do this?” I