Inheritance

Chapter 2: Jack (Part 1)

"He is wearing most of his clothes, everything but his shirt so this was not a sexual attack." Jack started.  

"His face is not damaged in any way, so it probably wasn't a personal attack. There are burn marks on his wrists in almost perfect circles like..." Jack tried to imagine why someone would have perfect circular burns. "Torture?" he guessed.

Fortunatus nodded, "What else?"

"What don't I see?" Jack said to himself. He examined the body again.

"No magical tattoos. This is an innocent."

"Correct." Fortunatus clasped his shoulder in congratulation.

"Damn, how did I miss such an obvious clue?"

"Always look for the simple answer first, not the most complicated one."

"But it was a magical death?"

"Correct."

"So...someone magical killed an innocent. Now adding in what we do know from Zeph, and taking into account the burn marks, it would seem it was not in a magical accident," Jack said. "Someone killed Derrick on purpose."

"So it would seem."

"Does that creep you out as much as it does me?" Jack asked, thinking back to the last witch who had used his power to kill innocents - Manson. How many years had he lived and how many people had died at his hands? Too many.

"I do find it disturbing," Fortunatus said. "I served Manson for over fifty years and many good people died with my help. If Crow had not shown me mercy I did not deserve, I would never have switch sides near the end of the fight against Manson. The blood on my hands haunts me to this day." Fortunatus held up his cold fingers as if he could see the blood still dripping from them.

"Sometimes it feels like Manson won," Jack said. "Even though Stan killed him, we all still carry him around like a sack of garbage."

"Even a creature like me does not easily overcome the damage to the soul and psyche Manson inflicted." 

Jack nodded. He continued to study the body trying to get a whiff of the magical smell Fortunatus kept talking about, but he only smelled cold air, dry leaves, and a tarmac smell from the freeway a little ways away.

"Guess we should call it in. Do you thing we should find Ronan? This really should be his case," Jack said. He thought about the SoulReading powers which had manifested within Ronan complete and whole, the powers once divided between Manson and Jack's grandmother, Sophie.

"I do not think he lives near here. And a man ignoring his duty will not appreciate a reminder of his responsibilities."

Zephyr stirred in Jack's duster pocket. He jumped back with a shout. Fortunatus raised an eyebrow at him.

"She startled me," Jack said. He held out a hand to her while Fortunatus pulled his cell phone out and called Detective Blaine.

"How are you?" Jack asked the wiznit.

"Yucky." She frowned, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I'm sorry. We found the body."

Tears filled her eyes and she climbed back into his pocket without looking at it.

Fortunatus hung up, "Blaine wants us to come in and give him a report in the morning."

"I think we need to find Ronan," Jack said, again.

"Why do you think that?"

"Peace of mind. Besides, he could probably tell us who did this."

"You think Manson has returned?"