The People v. Eleanor Warwick

Eleanor lets out an aggravated sigh when she turns the corner to find Cassandra Crane gone.

Slouching and placing her hands on her knees, she shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”

Jessie crosses her arms and starts to lean against the abandoned station’s filthy walls but stops short. Choosing instead to take a few steps away from it. Marvin walks deeper into the maintenance room, glancing around curiously. “Was something supposed to be here?”

“Yeah. The Stone.”

“Oh. You still have the GPS though, right?”

Eleanor pulls the device out of her pocket. It’s been reduced to separate pieces of plastic dangling from a few wires. “In a manner of speaking.” Tossing Beck’s GPS away, Eleanor paces back and forth, tousling her hair. “Please tell me you guys got something from the apartments.”

“Well, Mr. Willard was interested in the name Crane,” Marvin answers.

Eleanor snaps her head toward him. “Crane?”

“Yep. C. Crane. 6D.”

“Cassandra Crane!” she exclaims, hope renewed. “Nice job, Marvin. Jessie and I will head over there now.”

“At least I’ll get to kick a door down,” Jessie says with very little enthusiasm in her voice.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but we need to go with something a little more subtle. If she isn’t home, there’s no reason to let her know we know where she lives.”

“What about the...magic...blocker things?”

“Wards.”

“Whatever.”

Eleanor offers a slight smirk. “Magic isn’t the only thing in my repertoire.”

The door to the sparsely decorated apartment slowly opens.

Reaching in, the superintendent flicks on the light switch, illuminating the dwelling. The balding, middle-aged man glances around before swinging the door wide open. He turns to the duo waiting in the hallway. “You got ten minutes.”

“We’ll try to make it five.” Eleanor offers a small fold of bills, which he quickly snatches.

Jessie enters first, staying on the alert for any more giant pets. Walking over to a small table, she runs her fingers through a few potted plants. “I should break these.”

“You aren’t very helpful in information gathering, you know that?” Eleanor answers, only half joking. The wizard quickly sifts through drawers and cabinets.

With a slight scoff, Jessie turns away from the plants and enters the small bedroom. Like the living room, it’s nearly empty. Only a bed, a nightstand, and a small dresser stand within.

Pulling open the dresser drawers, she looks through Cassandra’s modest wardrobe. Finding nothing of consequence, she moves on. The nightstand reveals something far more interesting. Jessie lifts an old, worn book from the table’s single drawer.

Flipping open its dark green cover, she gingerly thumbs through a few pages. Impeccable cursive script covers page after page. The book is filled with anecdotes and random thoughts. Dates are marked at the beginning of each entry. Jessie never had a diary, but she knows one when she sees it.

“Hey, Warwick?”

“What?” she answers from the other room.

“You might want to see this.” She waits a moment, but no answer comes. “Warwick?”

Eleanor hears her, but only just. She stares down at the small pamphlet she found in one of the kitchen drawers. In the apartment of most wizards, it wouldn’t be out of place at all, but it’s clear that Cassandra Crane lives alone, giant snakes notwithstanding. She certainly doesn’t have any children.

So why does she have a brochure for Arkshire Academy?

“Warwick!”

She starts before looking to Jessie. “What?”

“This old diary has your name in it.”

Taking the journal, Eleanor flips through it, careful not to smudge the ink. “It’s my family name, yes, but this person is talking about Martin Warwick.” Turning back to the first page, Eleanor notes the name on the journal. “Sandy Crane.”

“Who’s that?”

“No idea,” she answers with a shrug, “but Martin Warwick was my great, great, great, great grandfather. So I’d imagine Sandy Crane is her great, great, great, great grandmother.”

Jessie leans against the doorframe. “So what’s the bitch’s problem with you?”

“Again; no idea, but I have a new lead.”

“So we’re done here?”

“For now.” Eleanor sets the book down and pulls out her phone. She snaps a picture of as many pages as she can find with a Warwick mentioned. She hands the diary back to Jessie. “Put this back where it was.”

She returns to the kitchen and places the pamphlet back where she found it. “I think I’ll have Marvin stake the place out in case she comes back this evening. It’s a long shot, though. I’d wager she’s found somewhere else to hide out.”

Jessie groans. “Why do you have to keep that guy around?”

“He’s good.”

“He’s annoying,” she counters, following Eleanor back into the hallway.

“Well, if good didn’t trump annoying then you’d- .”

“Finish that fuckin’ sentence and I’ll punch you in the throat.”

Eleanor suppresses a smirk as the duo steps up to an elevator. “Look, I know you’re concerned about Marvin having eyes for you, but- .”

“Eyes for me?” Jessie repeats incredulously. “Fucking Christ, Warwick. You are the youngest old lady in the world.”

“But,” Eleanor resumes without comment, “I’m sure if you just keep being yourself you’ll chase him away in no time.”

Hazel eyes narrow as Eleanor’s silly grin makes an appearance. “You’re being pretty damn snarky for somebody whose ass I just saved.” Stepping into the box, she continues. “You should have seen your face when you came running out of that tunnel.

“Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!” she recites in a mocking impersonation before cracking up. “It was priceless.”

“Yeah...well.” Eleanor looks to her with a regretful gaze. “I shouldn’t have gone down there without you.”

Jessie’s mirth vanishes in the face of the wizard’s sudden sincerity. “Whatever,” she replies, trying to dismiss her.

“I’m serious. It was stupid. We both have a lot at stake here. I took a hell of a risk in the name of my pride.”

The hellblood wants to agree in the worst way. It’s a great opportunity to pounce on her, but her own responsibility for the incident gnaws at her. “I...uh...guess I shouldn’t have called you out like that. I should’ve had your back down there.”

The elevator goes quiet as they stare at one another.

Eleanor wants to tell Jessie how much she’s come to depend on her. How happy she is that she didn’t take that bus to Orlando, arguments be damned. She just doesn’t think Jessie really wants to hear it.

Jessie wants to tell Eleanor how angry she was when she thought Colby Beck killed her. How she’s finding it harder to hold on to her resentment toward her. She doesn’t like how vulnerable that leaves her.

When the doors slide open, Jessie breaks eye contact and hurries out. Eleanor awkwardly adjusts her coat before following. Henry and Marvin await them outside. “Well?” Henry asks.

“We have a few things to go on,” Eleanor responds, “but I think we need to keep an eye on this place. Think you can handle that, Marvin?”

“Stakeout, huh? You got it.”

“Good. I’m going to head back to the House and see if I can get a sense of what Crane is trying to do.”

“I’ll lend you a hand, girl.”

The wizards headed for their cars until Eleanor turns back to Jessie. “Are you coming?”

“Nah. You guys have fun,” she answers. “I’m going to go get a drink.”

Before she could walk away, Marvin intercepts her. “Or, you can join my stakeout.”

For a moment, all he receives in response is a stare. “Seriously?”

“Sure. We can grab some burgers and kick back in the car and just, you know, talk and stuff.”

With a sigh, Jessie shakes her head. “Why in the world would you want to do that?”

The investigator shrugs. “Why do you think? I like you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Well, I guess that’s true, but I feel like I got to know enough about you that night that I want to know more. Besides, what do you really need to know about a person before you go out with them? The basic idea of spending time together is to get to know each other better.”

“You don’t want to get to know me too well.” She turns to walk away.

“Yeah. I get that’s what you want people to think.”

“What?”

“Look, whether you like it or not, I got to see behind the curtain. Behind all the threats and the violence and the...crazy demon thing you had going on back there. And I saw a fun girl who liked music and really sucked at Rock Band. And I...I liked her.”

He has a point; he’s already seen past her typical defenses. She crosses her arms. “I killed the last guy I went out with.”

He stiffens. “Ah…well, the bar’s pretty low then, right?”

A slight smirk edges her lips. “Very. All right, Towles,” she finally replied, granted with guarded enthusiasm. “You’re on.”

A boisterous fist pump prompts her to raise an eyebrow. Marvin quickly composes himself. “Sorry.”

“But you’re paying.”

“Of course,” he says, leading the way to this vehicle. “What kind of date would it be if I didn’t?”

“We’re just going to be sitting in your fuckin’ car. I’m not sure a date is what I’d call it.”

“Okay. Maybe not that best night out you’ve ever been shown.”

“Sadly, not the worst either.”