[Find part one here] The note helped. But it was the picture which convinced Mettle there was a serious chance an Enhanced was involved. If regulars are saying the saw Jacob Bronson up and walking two days ago then Mettle wanted to know what happened to him between then and dead. The transformation into a malnourished husk of a corpse was too unreal to be anything else.
"You want to go out to the bookstore, see what he was after?"
"Yeah, but I don't have a car. I flew into Capitol City." Alex answered. The man in the wrinkled raincoat said his name was Alex.
Twenty minutes later the pair was heading up 72 northwest through a steady rain out of the city and towards Huntsville Village. It was not difficult to find the only occult bookstore in the busy suburban town. It was off Macy Street in a busy commercial block, tucked between a furniture reupholstery store and another retail space unoccupied and for lease. A two-story building, painted multiple times with cheap paint to cover over split wood and old brick. The Fated Souls bookstore had lights on and was open. The windows stacked with all sorts of witchy-wicca-new age occult paraphernalia. Crystals, triangles, books, hand-crafted wands and homeopathic "medicines". Inside the "investigators" found overcrowded stacks jammed with books, worn carpet and the smell of incense leeched from the walls. Yellow was the predominate color, bookshelves, ceiling, trim.
Mettle discreetly scanned the place with her magnetic abilities, but everything about the place appeared mundane and normal. Near the back the two found a raised platform with a ladder. A desk and more bookshelves threatened to spill over the shaky wooden rail. A woman occupied the desk. Brown haired, pleasant smile.
"Hello," she said waving her hand lazily and put down her pen. "What can I help you find this afternoon gentlemen?"
"Actually, we are looking for a guy we believe was in your shop four days ago. He was here to purchase some medicine I think?" Mettle started the conversation. Seeing as she was the local one she felt obligated to take the lead. Alex, water still dripping off his coat, was thumbing through the nearest bookcase.
"I get customers all the time in here for their apothecary needs. May I ask why you are looking for this person? I'm not beholden to HIPPA or anything, but still, what is this all about?"
"We have a friend, he was very sick, willing to try anything." piped up Alex. "He died just after coming to your store, we want to know what he bought." He stopped thumbing the books and stuffed his hands into his raincoat.
"Are you saying I sold him something that killed him?" The store clerk was naturally offput by such a thought. She stood up while saying this. She had to hunch over because she was very tall and the platform was raised enough to walk under. More glass cases with goat horns and bone flutes displayed.
"No, no, no." Alex took a hand out of his coat pocket and waved it back and forth. "He was afraid of somebody, we think. The fact he died while being sick, I think he didn't die of natural causes, and the cops aren't going to look into it further. His name is Jacob Bronson and I just want to know what he was afraid of. He thought your store could help. We are hoping you might know what he was so afraid of he would, you know, what might make him try untested stuff."
She blinked back, paused and climbed down the ladder and stood in front of Mettle and Alex. She was easily 6'4". Business slacks and a white blouse. Her horned-rimmed glasses were stuck into her hair. She was freckled and pale.
"You think he was poisoned?" she asked curious.
"Maybe."
"So, he was in your store." Mettle jumped in.
"Yes, Jacob Bronson was here. He asked for a tincture of one of our best sellers. Excellent for the indigestion, irritable-bowel syndrome, and is believed to flush the system of toxins." The clerk put her finger against her chin. "He did not look good. I was happy to make him up the prescription, but it would take a day to prepare. I suggested he should see a doctor as well. Odd you say he has died."
"And why is that," Alex asked.
"Because he called this morning asking to have it delivered. Said he wouldn't be able to pick it up."
"And this was... ?" Mettle asked, letting the question hang there. Hoping the leading question would get the clerk to elaborate.
"The Family Tree In-home Care Facility. Just over in Huntsville Center. Not far from here. I was about to get it out in the drop-box across the street."
The two thanked her and Mettle got on the phone for another Uber. As they waited by the front door of the shop they debated their next move.
"Follow the breadcrumbs, I guess." Said Alex.
"I agree, but before we go forward, mind telling me why you are really interested in this guy Bronson?"
Alex didn't seem to mind the question.
"Do you believe in ghost and demons?"
"Believe it or not, I'm the kind of girl who has seen some pretty strange shit, go on."
"I've seen them. I've interacted with them. I've fought them. Whoever killed Jacob Bronson knows how to kill people like a malevolent spirit does. Or is a malevolent spirit. Either way, whoever it is is running loose with dangerous abilities and is effectively out of reach of "traditional" law enforcement. I'm interested in who killed this loser because know one else does. Or knows how to do something about it." Alex was definitely not embarrassed to talk about such things. He was matter-of-fact about the bizarre subject matter.
"Okay, I can get behind that." Mettle tapped her finger on Alex's chest. "But if you turn out to be some strange creep thinking about messing with me, I'm the kind of girl who can handle yourself, get it?"
Alex spread his arms wide, revealing intricate tattoos wrapping his wrists as they poked out of his raincoat. "I'm just trying to find and stop the very real possibility of some lunatic out there possessing unnatural abilities killing people who annoy them and getting away with it. Lets go, the Uber is here. Alex pushed the door open and walked out to their ride. Mettle followed after him.
(to be continued...)