“Dammit, Ben!” I screamed. “Talk to me! Why won’t you tell me what the hell is happening here!”

“Rowan, you know damn good ‘n well what this is about!” my friend shot back. “A dead federal judge and a dead copper.”

“Bullshit! Politics is what it’s about,” I snarled at him. “Who’s behind this? Albright?”

I almost gagged on the name of the cop whose life’s mission seemed to be anything that involved making my very existence unbearable. Captain Barbara Albright, self-appointed leader of the “God Squad.”

Of course, there you had it, plain and simple.

When you took into consideration the fact that she was an old school, fundamentalist Christian with a badge, and I was a Neopagan Witch who consulted for the police department, we were bound to clash. The problem was, it was even worse than that. In plain truth we weren’t just at polar opposites; in many ways we seemed almost to be one another’s arch nemesis. Unfortunately, she tended to take that idea very seriously and more often than not would push things way too far.

She had already interjected her opinions and views into the current investigation, casting aspersions on both Felicity and me. Out of all of my detractors, she had been the one I most feared would skew the investigation. Given how vocal she had already been, it stood to reason that she would be behind this action. However, in my estimation, her habit of pushing things too far had just turned into shoving them completely over the edge and gleefully watching them fall.

“Look, I already said this a dozen times,” my friend spat in reply. “Ya’ got the goddamned warrants right there in your hand. Read ‘em!”

I barked in return as I waved the sheaf of legal documents in the air, “And, I’ve told you every time you said it that I already did and they don’t tell me a fucking thing.”

“Well, try readin’ ‘em again!”