Chapter Six: Legacies
"So you think it's Wesen?"
"Oh yeah," Nick confirmed, leaning against the counter in the spice shop while Monroe sorted through the jars on the shelf. Rosalee was in the back, taking inventory. "There's no doubt about that, at least in one of the crimes."
"What, the murder?" Monroe cast a glance at him. "I somehow doubt a human would literally tear someone else apart like that. Though I guess they could…"
"Right, forget I said anything. Wesen, right. Well, that's not really narrowing it down. Plenty of Wesen with claws out there."
"Hmm, yeah." Nick just kind of shrugged, looking tired.
Monroe noticed and set down the final jar, looking a little concerned. "Look, do you know if anyone else involved is Wesen?"
"Not for sure, no. The mother might be, and…"
Nick sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "You know how Hank's out of town?"
"Uh, yeah, his aunt's sick or something, right?"
Nick nodded. "Until he gets back, Renard gave me a new partner."
Monroe nodded in understanding. "Ah, and he's a jerk."
"What? No, no, he's okay."
Monroe nodded with much less understanding. "Then…? What's the problem here?"
"I think he might be Wesen."
His friend just looked at him for a moment. "…okay? What's the issue again?"
The look on Nick's face was exasperated, but he kept his voice steady. "Look, Monroe, you're one of the few people I've met who's had a somewhat okay reaction to me being a Grimm. If Jonah finds out…"
Somewhat okay? I think I handled it pretty well, considering… He shook it off and continued. "What makes you think this guy is Wesen anyway? Did you see him woge?"
"No, but he knew where a bloodstain was before we got the UV light."
"And you're thinking he smelled it? A few-weeks-old bloodstain? That's quite a feat even for Blutbaden, dude." Slightly perplexed, Monroe abandoned all pretense of work and pulled up a chair. "I mean, there's a few I know that could maybe be him, but it's a stretch."
After a moment of silence, they both spoke. "Trailer?"
Monroe immediately stood, grabbing his jacket. "Rosalee? Nick and I are going to the trailer."
"See you at home," she called back, hearing the bell clang as the Blutbad and the Grimm left the store.
Jonah grumbled to himself when a knock sounded from the front door. He'd been up late the night before; going over records, ones on Kevin Woods and any suspicious financial activity. There had been some, but nothing out of place for someone with a supposed drug problem. Finally, exhausted and annoyed, Jonah and his new partner had parted ways.
Still annoyed, Jonah dragged himself to the front door and yanked it open, glaring out into the hall. "You know… when you said you'd come visit, I thought you might've called first."
Des grinned, not looking sorry in the slightest. "Not my style. How's it goin'?"
Jonah sighed, opening the door enough so that Des could step inside the apartment. "I've been better. Difficult case right off the bat."
"Yep, you've got that look on your face most people get after being sprayed by a skunk. So it must be bad." Des stepped in, tactfully ignoring that barely anything was unpacked, and a few stacks of boxes sat about. "Holly's not here," he added, catching Jonah staring into the hall in confusion. "I left her at home for today, she's had a long week. Julie's with her, so they'll be fine." Julie was his current girlfriend, and, Jonah suspected, soon to be fiancée. "And I thought we could go over…?"
"What, the book? Um," Jonah closed the door, "what time is it?"
"About four-thirty in the morning."
"…I hate you. Yeah, we can go over it, but coffee is needed before that."
"I couldn't agree more," Des agreed cheerfully, sitting down on a couch and tossing his briefcase onto the coffee table. "Soooo… why'd you need this thing, anyway? You said you recognized someone?"
"Sort of." Jonah set the coffee to brew, casting a glance over his shoulder. "More like, um, whoever owned that book before. Or is related. I'm not sure."
"Really? How can you tell?"
"…right. Not weird at all." Des leaned forward, opening the briefcase and retrieving the book from inside.
The spine was cracked and torn up, the brown and black cover worn until the title was nearly undiscernible from the background. Still, the letters and a crude illustration of what looked like a man with a bird's head was somewhat visible. A Grimm's Guide to Wesen, H-L.
Jonah paused, pouring the coffee into two mugs. The scent was definitely familiar; whomever owned that book before he did was related to Burkhardt. He made his way over to the couch, handing over one of the mugs. "So it says one of these… Grimm things owned it before?"
"Uh-huh." Des took a sip of the drink, then set it down, flipping the volume open to its first page. "Look, it says 'Property of Marie Kessler, Grimm'. So, who's the creepy-stalker-hunter person in your life?"
"My, ah, partner."
Des stared at him for a moment. "…ohhhh shit. Maybe you oughta skip town. I mean, look at this thing," He rifled through the pages, pausing at the various illustrations of decapitation and disembowelment and other tortures. "This whole thing says how to hurt and kill things like… well, like people like you."
Jonah frowned at him, trying to hide his concern. "Yeah, yeah, I got that, but… look, I'm not sure if this guy's like that."
"Oh, and you know that after knowing him for a day? Ugh, whatever man, just try to be careful, yeah?"
Jonah nodded, staring down at the book. "C'mon, Des. When am I not careful?"
Hi everyone! Sorry for the really… really… really long break. Lots of stuff going on. Also, sorry this is sort of a filler chapter, but I figured I wouldn't keep you guys waiting. Anyway, hope you like it. Hopefully, a new, slightly more insightful chapter will be up soon.