Evil Ways by Justin Gustainis Page B

the pair had overcome her more mundane protections.
    But who had sent them? To her knowledge, she had no serious enemies among the magical community. The last witch to try to harm Libby had been Christine Abernathy, and Libby was quite certain that Christine would not be troubling anyone this side of hell ever again.
    Until she discovered who was behind this, Libby was in serious danger. In warfare, whether mundane or magical, the aggressor usually has the advantage. Libby could not count on the next team of killers that came for her to be as careless as these two jerks had been.
    Well, first things first: she had two corpses to get rid of, and she'd better get started before decomposition set in. Once the smell of rotting flesh gets in your fabrics, even magic can be hard pressed to get it out again.
    She hoped Quincey would call back soon.

    "More kids are being killed for their organs?" Morris asked.
    "Yeah." Fenton spoke as if the word had put a bad taste in his mouth. "Started about two months ago, near as we can figure. Same M.O. as before, more or less."
    "Not much chance it's the same perp from last time, is there?" Fenton shook his head. "None at all. Cecelia Mbwato was identified after the fact as the killer. She'd been operating with the assistance of a guy named, believe it or not, Snake Perkins. And both of them are as dead as two people can be."
    Morris thought about what he'd found in Fortner's magic workroom. "Well, it seems I may have some good news for you," he said. He told Fenton about the jars he'd found, each containing what was almost certainly the heart of a child. "Looks like Fortner's your killer, and how's that for coincidence?" he said to Fenton. "You may need some specialized help when you go in to serve the arrest warrant. Even though a lot of his tools have gone up in smoke, Fortner's still powerful, which makes him dangerous. I can give you a few names of people with the right skills, if you want."
    Fenton stood up and walked slowly over to one of the windows, where he peered out at the start of rush hour without much apparent interest. After a little while he turned back to the room. "That's good to know," he said, "but I've got a couple of problems with that."
    "Such as?" This was not the reaction that Morris had been expecting.
    "Well, there's that warrant you mentioned, for one. To get one, we've got to show the judge probable cause that something hinky's been going on in Fortner's place. "What do I say — Your honor, I have reliable information gained from Mister Quincey Morris when he was burglarizing the place?"
    "There are ways around that, Fenton, and you know it. You could get an 'anonymous tip.' Or a 'confidential informant' could have given you the information. There's all kinds of things you can tell the damn judge."
    "Yeah, and most judges recognize them for the bullshit tactics they are. But all right. Say we get a warrant to go poking around the burned-out ruins of Fortner's place. Maybe I even have you draw us a map, so that we can get to this workroom you're talking about without too much fuss. What do you figure we'd find there?"
    "You'll find evidence that he's been killing children for their hearts."
    "What evidence, specifically? You were in there —you oughta know."
    Morris shook his head irritably. "For Christ's sake, Fenton, I told you already. You'd find those jars containing the hearts, one in each."
    Fenton was looking at him, and Morris suddenly realized he had missed something, but he didn't know what.
    "Morris, did you happen to pick up any of those jars, maybe for a closer look?"
    "Yeah, I did, as a matter of fact. But if you're worried about fingerprints —"
    "That's not what I'm getting at. You said the hearts were floating in a clear liquid. Any idea what that was?"
    "Sure —it was alcohol. You could smell it, even with the jars closed. Not surprising, a lot of labs…" Morris's voice trailed off and then he said, "Oh, fuck."
    Fenton nodded, but not as if