"The truth is, Miss Caldwell... I'm very, very familiar with things that most human beings think are make-believe." She brushed back a few strands of hair behind one ear, looking pensive. Marcia's interest was piqued now. This lady knew what lay behind the veil, as supernatural folks liked to put it, but something about all of it was clearly nagging at her gut. "You're familiar with SALEM, I believe"
At that, Marcia frowned slightly. "We've had some run-ins." And it never seemed to turn out all that great. To those who even knew of its existence, SALEM was billed as the first and last line of defense for humanity against the supernatural. The World Witch's Council, they only cared about preserving the secrecy of the paranormal; SALEM was supposed to be standing up for the mere mortals that other witches didn't much care about. In theory, at least.
In practice, they were more or less the US Army's personal band of militarized witches. Their idea of 'defending mortals against the supernatural' was to blow shit up, either with their own spells or with artillery imbued with magical power. From what she'd heard, they'd actually been alright back during the Cold War, when the Soviets kept hurling psychics and magic bullshit at the West - but ever since then, they'd mostly just been occult thugs itching for fights. That was without even getting into certain witch trials from America's past that the group had rather tastelessly named themselves after. 'Race traitor' was a phrase that got thrown around a lot regarding its operatives.
"Yes, the reports about those incidents were always a... fascinating read." Christine sighed. "You see, up until a few weeks ago, I was part of SALEM. Commander of a strike team, in fact, and quite proud of it." Even before she'd finished her sentence, Marcia was moving a hand under the table to cast a little spell, but Christine already had a response. "Let me save you a detection spell, Miss Caldwell. Right now, I haven't got a shred of magical ability or potential anywhere within me."
That was the exact result Marcia got, but she still trusted her own casting more than the witch's word. "So I see," she grumbled, briefly wishing that she hadn't decided to quit smoking. Times like this made her desperate for a cigarette. "Let me guess - some eldritch tentacle sex monster blasted away all your power? That's a problem for SALEM, lady - I can't help you out with that."
"Quite the contrary. I was stripped of that power by my own superiors."
The PI paled slightly. "They... they only do that..."
"...for someone dishonorably discharged." Her shoulders dropped. "That is why I've come to you, Miss Caldwell. I was accused of something I didn't do, and without my power, I can't prove my innocence. I need the assistance of a detective who knows how to navigate the supernatural - I need Marcia Caldwell."
"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa." She held up one hand. "You're asking me to get tangled up with high power witches, AND the US Military here?" She kept rambling as Christine reached inside her purse. "Lady, I'm sorry if you got screwed over, but that's outside... my..." She trailed off as Christine slid a piece of paper across the table. A check.
A check with a big number on it.
"You know what, I love a good challenge," Marcia said quietly, lowering her hand. Everybody had their price, as dad used to say - and Christine had most definitely found Marcia's. "Okay... let's... let's start from the beginning. What makes you say you were framed?"
Smiling, Christine held her head up a bit higher. "About two months ago, there was a major incident in Florida. My team responded to reports of a wereshark cult kidnapping and slaughtering locals... and none of them came back alive. My superiors somehow came to the conclusion that I had been derelict in my duty, causing their deaths - but I know my team, and I know what they could do. These weres shouldn't have been an issue for them."
"So you think something else was going down in the background of all this." Terrific. Government intrigue. Her favorite. "Alright - you must have enemies, right? Who could've been able to sabotage the mission, and had a good reason to want to see you fucked over?"