Terrance noticed a crowd ahead as he approached the diner. He politely pushed his way through upon reaching the corner, peering between gawkers to see what all the commotion was about. 

Three police cars, a coroner’s van, and a fire truck had traffic blocked off from one direction, with a cop rerouting any vehicles trying to come from the other direction.

Terrance spotted Sharnice smoking a cigarette in the vestibule and asked, “What’s going on?”

She shook her head sadly. “They’re saying some boy killed himself. Found him hung from the fire escape.”

Terrance gasped and stared at the scene blankly. He couldn’t see a body, but now understood why the fire truck’s ladder extended upwards into an alley behind one of the apartments.

“They pulled out another body a little bit ago, too.”

“That’s terrible,” was all Terrance could say.

A black Ford sedan drove around the traffic cop and stopped behind the squad cars. The crowd watched curiously as a Hispanic woman in a gray suit got out and donned a blue windbreaker with the letters FBI emblazoned on the back. 

She was stopped by two Baltimore police officers, who until then looked like they were just standing around. The woman flashed an ID and things turn awkward quickly. A plain clothes detective they’d seen arrive earlier, a familiar face at murder scenes in the neighborhood, entered the conversation.

At one point the female Fed pointed at the gawkers on the corner. The two local cops turned to the detective who they presumed was in charge. Their shoulders slumped like a couple teenagers told to do chores and reluctantly headed toward the diner.

Sharnice and Terrance chuckled and went inside as the gathering dispersed.

“The usual, Terrance?”

He hesitated, but said, “Thanks.”

Down the block, Agent Navarro grumbled, “Nice. There go half of my potential witnesses.”

The detective balked, “Your witnesses?”

“I told you, one of your vics is a person of interest in an active federal investigation.”

“That doesn’t make this your crime scene,” he countered. “What do you expect anyone on the street will tell you? The neighbors in the building already established a timeline for us. It was murder-suicide.”

“One of the 911 callers described a sound indicative of destructive magic being used during the struggle.”

“The presence of magic alone does not make it FBI jurisdiction.”

Navarro bit back the response she wanted to give and dialed her tone down a notch. “Look, Detective Buchanan, was it? I get it. I do. If it’s a murder-suicide, that helps your clearance rate. No one to collar, but a lot less work. I was in your shoes once.”

Buchanan tried to say something, but Navarro continued to talk over him. “But if I go in there and find evidence of illegal magic, it does become my jurisdiction. And, I’m obligated to repeat, the vic is part of an open FBI case. So I could just be a big ol’ bitch and call your Commander, or you can try to get me statements from some locals, let me have a look at your crime scene, and my report will state that you cooperated fully.”

The detective weighed the choice for a few silent seconds. He turned without saying more, gesturing for Navarro to follow him inside.

Next Chapter: Meet Professor Blackthorne