When A Gargoyle Investigates Page 2

  “But I saw something, I really did!”

  Two

  Twenty years later

  Agent Melissa Sanchez stared at the photo in front of her. Then she squinted at it. Then she grabbed a magnifying glass and tried to see some of the details the naked eye would miss. Nothing did any good.

  She tried turning it over, and when the photo was least expecting it, she flipped it over, shouted aha and tried looking at it again. But no, not even the element of surprise could fool the photo into not looking like a run of the mill bear. Though the photographer should perhaps be a little concerned that a bear was living in their child’s Wendy house. She’d call them later and warn them.

  On a daily basis, Melissa received countless reports, photos and recordings of strange and unusual phenomena. All of which she painstakingly investigated. Though, usually, her investigations needed nothing more than a quick look and an immediate dismissal – like in the instance of this bear. A concerned citizen sent the photo in thinking they had spotted Bigfoot prowling around their garden. Nope, just a bear – a black bear by the look of it. She should also call animal control before the owners of the house decided to get up close and personal with ‘Bigfoot.’

  Melissa plucked another grape out of her Tupperware, leaned back in her chair and rolled her shoulders. She was the sole member of the Portland FBI assigned to strange and unusual cases. Kind of like the TV show, except the Files, weren’t ‘X’ they were ‘W Files’ – as in the Weird Files. Also, there was no simmering sexual tension going on because Melissa was the only one there. Well, other than her cactus, and no, she wasn’t so lonely she wanted to get it on with Curtis. Though, she was lonely enough to have named the cactus.

  Unlike her mother, though, she wasn’t worried about the fact that she was still single. She wasn’t especially lonely outside of work – probably because she spent most of her time working and had no time to lament a lack of male company. But she did rather miss having a partner to work with, someone to bounce ideas off and someone else to take a turn at the coffee run.

  She used to work white collar crimes, but when her boss brought her in for a hush-hush meeting and offered her this role, she jumped at it. Course, her old partner thought she was a complete nut. He called it career suicide, but Melissa didn’t care. Investigating the weird and wonderful had been a passion since she was a kid – even before she saw the gargoyle. Though she never admitted to seeing the gargoyle – not anymore. A year of seeing a child psychologist taught her to keep her mouth shut about that, particularly around her mother. It was why her family believed she was still in white collar. They didn’t need to know the truth, and as her three brothers owned a contracting company together, they were never going to know. Unless, she finally proved the existence of Bigfoot, or aliens or, oh, gargoyles…

  Melissa sighed and grabbed a file. She duly put the photos in it, and wrote on the front what they were. Her office was in the basement of the building – where few agents bothered to venture. Given that the office was devoted to a whole department, it wasn’t the tiny closet-sized room that her old office had been when she was white collar. Nope, she’d even go as far to say it was ample. It had her desk, a spare desk facing hers – in case she was shockingly ever given a partner, and then row after row after row of file cabinets. She kept everything anyone sent her.

  She tossed the file on a pile. She would take it as well as the rest of the pile over to Sela in records who would scan everything and save it. A precaution in case of fire or anything else that may ruin the originals – say like urine…

  Once, a guy sent her some urine in the mail that he wanted her to investigate. He thought it was Bigfoot’s urine – he was certainly a favorite around Portland – and well, when she opened the package… Let’s just say it went everywhere. Everywhere. She was still peeved about the shoes she was wearing that day. Mainly as the urine turned out to belong to the guy’s neighbor – the dick was just messing with him.

  So, scanning everything no matter how seemingly inconsequential was an absolute must.

  Melissa considered the pile she needed to send down to be scanned. Then her unopened mail pile. Then her message pad with all the people she needed to call back.

  In the years she had been working the W Files, nothing had ever panned out as being real. There was always a rational explanation. It was a bear, or it was a weather balloon, it was kids playing pranks, or it was just a freakishly large tomato… She’d never found anything supernatural.

  Melissa opened her bottom desk drawer and looked at her cryptozoology book for reassurance. It was old, fading and had duct tape keeping it together, but it was the first book on cryptozoology she ever got and had first sparked her interest in the unusual. She kept it at work for reassurance. Whenever she had a moment of doubt, she looked at it, and it bolstered her courage. Her mom had been dead set against buying it. Thank goodness she had a dad who would happily bow to his only daughter’s big, pleading eyes. She closed the drawer and tapped her fingers.

  She thought she had something a couple of months back. She thought she’d finally found her elusive gargoyle.

  Melissa had reports of a creature in the sky in a small town called Devil’s Hang. It was not far from Portland, and the chief of police was happily an old friend and former crush called Chris. The sighting didn’t pan out to anything – the eyewitnesses had been drinking or couldn’t be sure what they saw. So, like Chris, she put it down to a giant bat, or perhaps a giant bird. She’d had eagles mistaken for flying demons in the past. Sadly, meeting up with Chris didn’t pan out to anything either.

  At the time she had a couple of flutterings about him, but on seeing that he was already involved with someone, she quickly used the same fake boyfriend she wheeled out every time her mother called. Chris was apparently in love, and well, it had just been a silly crush. One of many over the years that all came to nothing.

  She looked at her message pad and saw she needed to call Chris back. It was a low priority given that he said it was a personal rather than a professional matter. All personal matters were a low priority. Well, other than the safety and well-being of her cats.

  “You know you’re important to me don’t you, my little smushy?”

  Melissa bent down and waggled a couple of fingers through the cat carrier. Lion-O duly rubbed his cheek against her fingers and purred throatily.

  Poor Lion-O had been sick recently – an eye infection. The vet gave her some eye drops to apply once every three hours, and today was his last day of drops. It wasn’t particularly severe, but Melissa had been worried to the point of panicking. She suspected the vet did it more to shut her up than anything else. Melissa had five cats altogether – Lion-O, Cheetara, Tygra, Panthro, and Kevin. Kevin was a new addition to her comfort of cats. Someone in her building had moved, and as they didn’t want to take their cat with them, they just left the poor little mite behind – as if he didn’t have enough to contend with being called Kevin! Sadly, the new owners of the apartment – in spite of their daughter’s pleading – couldn’t keep him, as both parents were allergic, or at least they said they were allergic. So, Melissa took him on – she couldn’t see him go to the cat sanctuary. With his small stature, stubby tail and a name like Kevin, he’d get eaten alive! He was gladly accepted into her own comfort with no fuss.

  Though she was a little concerned that she was becoming a crazy cat lady, and bringing Lion-O to work didn’t help with that image. But, he needed his drops, and her usual go-to neighbour was busy with a day trip to a casino, so she was hiding him under her desk.

  “It’s lucky no one comes down here, isn’t it, smushy?” she cooed.

  “Ahem.”

  Melissa bolted upright, banging her head on the edge of her desk in the process.

  “Ah jeez, are you okay?”

  It was hard to focus – given all the stars and birds currently circling the guy’s head – but a ruggedly handsome man appeared to be standing before her sporting a concer
ned, mildly guilty expression.

  Melissa put a hand to her already swelling bump and tried not to wince.

  “Ah, I’m fine,” she lied. “Uh, who are you?”

  His suit suggested he was another agent – it was decent yet not too expensive, so it wouldn’t matter if it were damaged. But he didn’t work in the building – even from her low vantage in the basement, she would know. Female FBI agents were hardly quivering masses of hormones and didn’t go to pieces at the appearance of a sexy guy, but she was sure this particular guy would raise a few eyebrows throughout the building.

  “I’m Colt Hunter.”

  In spite of the searing head pain, her eyebrows rose. “You are?”

  His lips curled into a sardonic smile. “Yes, and it is my real name.”

  He held out a hand, and she risked letting go of her head to shake it.

  “I’m Melissa Sanchez, and yes, that’s my real name too.”

  His smile widened, and her heart did a girly double beat. Damnit, get it together Sanchez!

  “It’s a pleasure. I’ve been assigned to your department.”

  Melissa stared at him. Perhaps the head wound was making her hear things. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  He repeated what he said, a touch of amusement in his voice.

  She blinked at him, completely flabbergasted. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, but are you quite sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve been assigned here? With me?”

  She wanted to make sure he was entirely sure because, well, no one ever got assigned to her department. No one wanted to work her department.

  “Is this my desk?” he asked dumping a box on top of the empty desk opposite hers.

  “Uh, yeah, I mean I was storing Curtis… the cactus there, but I’m sure he… it will be fine next to the window.”

  Jeez, one blow to the head and a total surprise and she was a jabbering idiot. Colt gave her a patient, amused smile and transposed Curtis over to the file cabinet under the window. Given that they were in the basement, their window was tiny and at the top of one wall, but it was a bit of natural light, and she was glad of it.

  “Curtis, huh?”

  He waggled his eyebrows and Melissa blushed.

  “Yeah, I’ve been down here a while on my own.”

  “I get it,” he said as he pulled a couple of bobbleheads out of his box and took pains to put them on his desk. “I was on my own for eight years in Arizona.”

  “What happened?”

  “Big increase in kids born with six fingers. Plus it came at the same time as a boom in people’s hair turning purple. Everything was explainable – nothing supernatural, but I got a couple of junior agents assigned to me, and then they never wanted to leave.”

  Melissa nodded. “Wow, lucky.”

  “Yeah, not so much for the people whose hair turned purple. It fell out a couple of months later – it was all to do with chemicals in the water.”

  After carefully placing the bobbleheads – which appeared to be X-men – he opened a desk drawer and upturned the box, dumping the rest of the contents inside. Melissa had to smile.

  “So what brings you to Portland?” she asked conversationally. It was dawning on her that she may have a partner now – a real, live partner! Not just stupid Curtis – no offense to him, but he was always a prickly fellow.

  Colt’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. His features hardened for a second before his smile seemed to grow even bigger. “Just moved here to be near family.”

  Melissa nodded. She had a tingling sensation that something was off, but she didn’t know him very well, and frankly, she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot. She’d had a partner for about ninety seconds – she didn’t need to ruin it.

  “Well, I’m certainly glad you’re here.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Their eyes met, and Melissa quickly looked down at her feet, or rather, looked down at her cat carrier.

  “And don’t worry, I love cats,” he said.

  Melissa snapped up to look at him. “Oh, ah, I…” She slumped in her seat. “It’s just while I need to put eye drops in.”

  “It’s fine, let me know if you need help with him.”

  “Oh, thank you,” she murmured in surprise. “But uh, why don’t we start with a tour of the building?”

  Colt beamed. “Sounds good, I’m keen to get stuck into our cases.”

  Huh. She’d been assigned a new agent, who was just as keen as her and had even more experience. All her dreams appeared to be coming true. Yep, it all sounded very good. Perhaps too good to be true…

  Three

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it,” whined a strident voice. It belonged to a woman called Clara, who was currently striding through the leafier, denser part of Fey Park.

  “Oh, you don’t want to talk about it so the topic is closed?” retorted a taunting male voice. That voice belonged to her boyfriend, Jimmy, who was stomping after her, brandishing an empty dog leash.

  The decision to go for a walk together was one she seriously regretted. Things started going downhill when their dog ran away. At first they were resolved to find their pet, but after it became clear they weren’t going to – after an hour – it then led to recriminations about whose fault it was that he ran away. Then this devolved into the argument where she accused him of being a ‘momma’s boy’. This, in turn, led to the disagreement over the unnecessary kitchen remodeling she insisted on. This then became the dispute about how much time he spent working late and whether the girl from accounting worked late too. It had then finally landed on the quarrel about the fact that she had enjoyed a drunken smooch with her boss at the Christmas party.

  “That’s right,” she hissed. “Besides, you said it was no big deal. You said you did the same the year before.”

  “Yeah but the difference is my boss is in her sixties and it was a kiss on the cheek. Not some thirty-two year old bodybuilder.”

  “He’s not a bodybuilder – he just takes care of himself,” she denied hotly.

  “Meaning I don’t!”

  “I didn’t say…”

  Clara stopped short, gazing at the behemoth of a statue before her.

  “You didn’t have to say it,” snapped Jimmy before he ran into her back. “What are you doing, what…”

  He peered over her shoulder. “What the f…”

  They walked forward slowly, gazing at the enormous creature. Including wings, it had to be seven feet tall and looked to be made of solid granite. It was standing tall, arms folded over a huge chest and glaring straight ahead.

  “Jeez, is this new?” muttered Clara. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on one of my runs before.”

  “The last time you went running cronuts weren’t a thing yet,” he scoffed.

  “Ugh!”

  “Besides,” Jimmy looked around suspiciously, “this is kind of off the beaten track. Kinds of looks like the place muggers and perverts hang out.”

  “Why would they bother putting up such a huge statue here if only muggers and perverts come here?” she pondered. She reached out and swiped her fingers over one of the creature’s biceps. He was surprisingly warm. “What a huge thing he is…” She looked at him wondrously.

  Jimmy humphed and took her arm. “Come on, the suns gone in. We need to get out of here before the perverts arrive. Besides we have to find our stupid dog.”

  “Yeah,” she murmured as he led her away.

  She cast one last look at the statue and shook her head. What a strange thing he is, and then she chuckled for thinking of the statue as a ‘he.’ It was an ‘it.’ An interesting ‘it,’ but still an ‘it.’ Though if she didn’t know any better, given the speed at which Jimmy was dragging her away, he was a little jealous…

  Gracchus breathed out when he finally heard the humans retreating. That had been a close call. Thankfully, years of sentry duty meant that he was well equipped to stand
as still as a statue even when not sleeping. He thought he was done for when she touched him, when she felt the heat of his wakened body, but no, she just accepted it.

  It amazed him how humans were so willing to accept oddities in their daily life, because the alternative was too outlandish for them to believe it to be true. This was true of the sightings of his brothers flying in their small town of Devil’s Hang. They had been careless, humans had seen them, and yet they could not bring themselves to consider it could be gargoyles flying through the air. It spoke highly as to their sense of wonder, and of how thoroughly his race had been obliterated from human memory.

  His race was almost gone, betrayed and forced to sleep for nearly a thousand years. They were finding and waking as many gargoyles as they could, though it seemed unlikely they could ever hope to have more than a small clan. The gargoyles had never been numerous, even in their own time, and now… He shook his head and slowly flexed his wings, unfolding and stretching them.

  Gracchus did not dwell too much on their situation.. He had seen too many battles, lost too many brothers and sisters to waste his time getting angry. While the other younger gargoyles struggled to accept their new circumstances, Gracchus saw no logic in raging against what happened, saw no point in hurling himself into the world and waging a war against the humans – the overwhelming majority of which were entirely innocent in the treachery that befell the gargoyles. They had to look to the future, which, along with growing their small clan, meant finding human allies. This was why he was sleeping in a park in the middle of Portland, rather than in the relative security of the mansion grounds back in Devil’s Hang.

  He had chosen the spot in the park as it was fairly secluded, and it was not unheard of for parks to contain statues. He had rightly guessed that if anyone found him, they would merely think he should be there. It was a risk – anyone could come along and damage him, but fear was just a four-letter word. He rather liked that saying – he had heard it in a movie and then decided to adopt it.

  Movies and television were something he enjoyed about the new world. He was never one for reading much, though he did take an interest in the local newspaper, often procured for him by Chris – one of the new human members of his clan. But watching the television was fast becoming an addiction for him. Perhaps a little time away from a television would not hurt him. He was fast getting to the point where he planned his whole night around the schedule of TV shows. He should not be so dependant on the television, though he was glad he asked Kylie to tape his current favorite shows. He would not want to miss them. She said they were only reruns, but he was not sure what that meant. Anyway, he was keen to see what happened next. He had a feeling that Ross, after saying the wrong name at his wedding to Emily, would surely realize his desire to mate only Rachel, and throw over Emily in favor of her.