Fire Brand (City of Dragons Book 6)

by Val St. Crowe

  “Why are you so convinced it’s Samuel Jacobs, anyway?” said Lachlan.

  She gaped at us. “You don’t believe it’s him? You think it’s me instead? What kind of police are you?”

  “There’s no evidence pointing to Samuel Jacobs,” said Lachlan.

  “There isn’t any evidence pointing to me either,” she said.

  “Well, why won’t you talk to us about that handkerchief?” I said.

  She got up out of the chair, and fluffed out her wings. “You’re completely ridiculous. I can’t believe you. There’s never going to be any justice for Uncle Beckett at all.” And then she burst into tears.

  Lachlan raised his eyebrows at me.

  I shrugged at him. He was the one who did the comforting thing.

  But he didn’t move a muscle. Maybe he figured he couldn’t sell it after accusing her of murder five minutes before.

  She wiped away her tears. “It had to be Samuel Jacobs. He threatened my uncle in public. Everyone else loved him. Everyone. He was a great man.” She hiccuped.

  I handed her a tissue.

  She snatched it out of my hand and began scrubbing at her face.

  “Ms. Stanley,” said Lachlan in a quiet voice, “your uncle may have been a great man who spurred amazing political change, but he wasn’t a saint.”

  “I never said he was.” She glared at him. “But he never did anything so bad that people would want him dead.”

  “Well, he seems to have been… er, promiscuous,” I said.

  Paloma’s eyebrows shot up. She pointed at me. “That’s not fair. You can’t judge my uncle by human standards. In the gargoyle community, it’s perfectly acceptable for a man to… spread his seed.”

  “To human women as well?” I said.

  Paloma furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your uncle had a half-human son,” I said. “At least one. Maybe more. He doesn’t seem to have kept much track of his offspring.”

  Paloma seemed to digest this. “So what does that have to do with anything? It doesn’t make me a murderer.”

  “Because you said that everyone loved him,” said Lachlan. “And maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe there are people who were hurt by him, even if he never meant to hurt them.”

  “So, go talk to those people,” said Paloma. “Fine, okay, maybe I was wrong about Samuel Jacobs. But I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill my uncle.” She whirled around and came face-to-face with the whiteboard. She stared at it, her jaw dropping lower and lower. “What is this?”

  Lachlan took her by the shoulders and steered her away from the whiteboard. “That’s not really for you to see. It’s only a tool that we use here in the station to try to make sense of—”

  “Why am I at the top?” she said. “Why are there little arrows between me and Henry Gilbert? Listen, just because my uncle was promiscuous doesn’t mean I am. And Henry Gilbert? He’s loathsome. I would never sleep with him.”

  “Sleep with him?” said Lachlan, giving her a penetrating look. “Well, that thought had never crossed my mind. How vehemently you do deny it, though, Ms. Stanley.”

  She slapped Lachlan.

  Lachlan stepped back, hand on his cheek.

  “Damn it,” said Paloma, looking down at her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. Don’t lock me up for assaulting an officer or something.”

  Lachlan cleared his throat, lowering his hand. “Maybe it’s time you left, Ms. Stanley.”

  “I can go? You’re not going to lock me up for that?”

  “You can go,” said Lachlan. “And I think you should.”

  She turned and fled from the office.

  Lachlan and I stared after her. My mind was reeling. Had Paloma Stanley just confessed that she was sleeping with Henry Gilbert? I couldn’t believe that. Henry Gilbert hated gargoyles. Would he have sex with one?

  Of course, maybe he would. Maybe he was thinking of her as his lost property and he thought that entitled him to do as he pleased with her. But why would she agree to it?

  Lachlan rubbed his jaw. “I think I’m going to have a bruise.”

  “Do vampires bruise?” I said.

  “It hurts, all right?”

  I went over to him. “Let me see.” I touched his cheek gently.

  He winced. “There’s nothing to see, Penny. I’m fine.”

  “Oh,” I crooned. “She really hurt you.”

  “She’s a damned gargoyle. She’s like ten times stronger than me.”

  I kissed his jaw. “I’m sorry, baby.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, okay, I’m fine.”

  We peered into each other’s eyes, and we stopped. Looked at each other. Just looked.

  And there was something sweet and perfect in that tiny moment, knowing he was mine, and I was his, and we were us.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Lachlan put some ice on his jaw, and we got in the car and headed out to the Stanley family house again. We weren’t chasing after Paloma. Instead, we wanted to talk to her family, see if we could get some outside insight on her relationship with her uncle. Maybe it hadn’t been as sunshine-y and rosy as she’d made out.

  We were going to her house, though, so we knew it was likely she’d be around.

  But when we arrived, the woman who opened the door informed us that she wasn’t at home. “Do you want us to have her call you?” she asked.

  “No, that’s fine,” said Lachlan, sticking out his hand. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Lachlan. This is Penny, my associate. What’s your name?”

  The gargoyle woman hesitated. And then she shook hands with Lachlan. “I’m Pearl. I’m Paloma’s sister.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said Lachlan. “Would you mind answering a few questions for us, Pearl?”

  “Um, about what?”

  “Oh, just some routine things about Paloma and Beckett. We’re crossing our Ts here, just trying to confirm everything. Routine stuff.” He grinned at her.

  She bit down on her lip. “Um, yeah, okay. I guess that would be all right. Won’t you come in, then? We can go into the dining room. The living room is a little crowded right now.”

  “Sure thing,” said Lachlan.

  Pearl led us down a hallway and into a large dining room with a massive table. It smelled like bacon in there. I guess it was still technically morning for the gargoyle clan.

  She gestured for us to sit at one of the dining room chairs. “Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?”

  “We’re fine, thanks,” said Lachlan. “You sit down too.”

  She smiled, looking nervous, and then sat down next to us. “Is this going to take long?”

  “Not long,” Lachlan assured her. “We’re basically wondering about Paloma’s relationship with Beckett. We heard that there was a little bit of conflict between them, is that true?”

  “What?” said Pearl, looking miffed. “That’s crazy. They were thick as thieves. Always were. Ever since she was a little girl. He was her favorite uncle, and she was his favorite niece. The only reason he’s still living with us is because of Paloma. Our mother has two other brothers, but they decided to live with my other aunt—their other sister. You know gargoyles tend to live with the oldest living matriarch, and my grandmother passed a few years ago, so—”

  “It’s okay,” I said, smiling. “We know how it works.”

  She nodded. “Right. Okay, well, um, so Beckett was the only one who chose to join our household, and it was because of Paloma. He always liked her best. When we were kids, he tried to hide it, tried to be a good uncle to all of us, but he and Paloma always seemed in sync. Laughed at the same jokes, liked the same foods, wanted to watch the same TV shows. That kind of thing.”

  “And you had a lot of interaction with your uncle when you were children?” asked Lachlan.

  “Oh, yeah, he was our primary caregiver a lot of the time. Our mom would go to work, and he’d stay home with us and with our cousins. So, he was really
kind of a parental figure for us. I mean, we knew he wasn’t a parent, but he had that kind of authority. Anyway, I can’t remember ever seeing him have an argument with Paloma. Even when she was a little girl and she misbehaved, he wouldn’t raise his voice to her. To be fair, he never yelled at the rest of us either. He was a different kind of disciplinarian than my mother, who would scream a lot and maybe smack us on the butt with a wooden spoon. Beckett would get quiet instead. He’d tell you that he was very disappointed in you, that he knew you could do better. Somehow, that was worse than getting smacked.” She smiled. “I try to be more like him than like my mother with my own kids. Sometimes, though, you scream.”

  I laughed. “Sometimes, you can’t help it.”

  “You have kids?” she asked me.

  “Only one. And he’s still a baby,” I said, “so he’s not doing much misbehaving yet.”

  “Well, that can be even worse, though,” she said. “Because they’re maddening at that age. They cry and cry, and you don’t even know what’s wrong, because they can’t tell you.”

  “True,” said Lachlan.

  We all smiled at each other.

  A beat.

  Now, it was awkward.

  Lachlan cleared his throat. “Well, I guess we heard wrong about Paloma and Beckett, then. They really did get along well, I guess? Never argued?”

  “Never, at least as far as I knew,” she said. “But I have to admit that I’m not as close to Paloma as my other sister is. She really confides more in Minetta.”

  “Is Minetta here?” said Lachlan. “Could we talk to her?”

  * * *

  Minetta paused while folding a pair of small jeans. She had a big pile of laundry set out on a bed in her bedroom, and she had instructed us to perch at the foot of the bed, opposite where she was sitting. “If they argued, it was always about silly things,” she said. “I think that Paloma wanted to take care of him, and he wanted to make sure he had his independence.”

  “What do you mean by that?” said Lachlan. “How did she keep him from being independent?”

  Minetta folded the jeans over and placed them in a pile. “I don’t think she did. I think she simply wanted to take care of him. For example, she was handling all his finances at that point, and he had some accounts that he wouldn’t give her access to. She said she wanted him to give her the passwords for those accounts, but he didn’t want to.”

  That was interesting. “You think he might have been hiding something?” I spoke up. “Maybe he was spending money on something he didn’t want her to know about.”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what it turned out to be,” said Minetta. “He had accounts that he was funneling money into to help out his children. I don’t know if you’re aware what gargoyle culture is like—”

  “We are,” I said. “We know that’s unusual, for a gargoyle man to be providing money for his kids.”

  “Anyway, he never did give her access to the accounts, not totally, but he did tell her what he was hiding. I think he worried she’d think poorly of him. You know, by Paloma’s age, most women have had a kid or two. She’s never really been interested in that, though. She’s devoted herself to Beckett, and she didn’t have time for a family or even to, um, mate. She never spends time out, never brings anyone home for a little, er, fun.” Minetta blushed, her stone features turning a bit pink. “So, I don’t think Beckett thought she’d understand. I think he wanted to keep that aspect of his life away from her. In some ways, I think he always thought of her as a child.”

  “Because he was a parental figure to her growing up,” said Lachlan. “I guess that makes sense. So, Paloma still doesn’t know how many children he has or to what extent he was supporting them?”

  “None of us do,” said Minetta. “And, to be honest, I don’t agree with his decision to do that. It’s not fair to our family, because that money should be coming back to us. We—my mother and sister and I—have fed the man and put a roof over his head for years. He lives here rent free. Which is fine, because that’s how we do things. But he should have been contributing to the household, and he never did to any significant degree. I mean, he paid Paloma for her work, and she did chip in toward the mortgage and groceries and all of that, but…”

  I looked to see if Lachlan would say something at that. He scribbled something on his phone using his stylus. Then he looked up expectantly.

  Minetta sighed. “Of course, it was really my mother’s fault. She never asked anything from him. She was so puffed up full of pride that her baby saved the gargoyle race and freed us from the mages that she didn’t think he owed us anything else.” She picked up a t-shirt and began to fold it. “And listen to me. I’m going on as if he’s still alive. I swear, I can’t wrap my head around the idea of him being gone.” Her voice cracked at the end, just a little.

  But Lachlan and I were both quiet for a moment, to give her a chance to recover.

  She folded the t-shirt quickly and picked up another. She raised her eyebrows at us. “Is that all?”

  “Well, just one more thing,” said Lachlan. “Pearl told us that you and Paloma are close, that she confides in you.”

  Minetta shrugged. “We’re a little closer than Pearl and Paloma are, but Paloma and I don’t really talk that much. She’s very busy. She’s always in and out of the house, on the go all the time.”

  “Would you be aware of any reason that Paloma might have a handkerchief that was monogrammed with the name Gilbert on it?” said Lachlan.

  “Gilbert?” Minetta set down the pair of socks she was folding. “Like the Gilberts that used to… own my family?” Her voice shook.

  “Yes,” said Lachlan. “Like those Gilberts.”

  “She wouldn’t have anything like that,” said Minetta.

  “Well, she does,” I said. “And she won’t tell us why she has it.”

  “Did she tell you it’s the same Gilbert? Did she tell you that she got it from them?”

  “No, as I said, she won’t talk about it,” said Lachlan. “We find it… worrying.”

  Minetta started folding again, briskly. “I can’t think of any reason why she wouldn’t talk to you about it. I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with that awful family. As you know, neither of us were born back when our family was… was property, but we all know exactly what it was like to be held by the mages, and none of us would ever have anything to do with the Gilberts or with anything associated with them. Anything at all.”

  “I see,” said Lachlan.

  Minetta tossed pairs of socks into her laundry basket, fuming. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest this. That you’d bring up their name. It’s the most insensitive thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Really, I am. I recognize how difficult this must be for you.”

  “We’re only trying to figure out who killed your uncle,” said Lachlan.

  “By accusing poor Paloma of… what? What are you saying she did?”

  “We’re not accusing her of anything,” I said.

  “What does that handkerchief even have to do with my uncle?” said Minetta.

  “We don’t know,” I said. “Possibly nothing. But if she keeps it secret from us, then we start assuming the worst.”

  Minetta got up off the bed.

  We followed suit.

  “If Paloma doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m sure she has a good reason,” said Minetta.

  And I could tell our interview was over.

  * * *

  Lachlan and I were on our way to the car, having been turned out of the house rather quickly, when we were stopped by a gargoyle boy, who looked to be a young teenager, maybe thirteen or fourteen. He had long hair that hung into his eyes, and he tossed his head to the side to try to clear it.

  “Hey,” he said to us.

  “Um, hi there,” I said.

  Lachlan waved a little.

  The boy fell into step with us. “You guys leaving now?”

  “Yeah, we’re on ou
r way out,” said Lachlan.

  “My name’s Sullivan,” said the boy. “My friends call me Sully, though. You can too, if you want.”

  Lachlan and I both stopped to peer curiously at this kid, who was being so friendly.

  “Okay, Sully,” said Lachlan in a guarded voice, “is there something we can help you with?”

  Sully tossed his head again to clear the hair from his eyes. “Well, I heard my mom complaining that you guys were asking all these questions about my aunt Paloma. She was pretty upset. Said that you think she might have killed Uncle Beckett.”

  “We never said that,” I assured him. “We don’t know who killed your uncle. We’re just investigating all the options right now.”

  “Well, I don’t think my aunt is a murderer or anything,” said Sully. “I really don’t. But the way I figure it, you guys have to figure out whatever it is that my aunt actually is hiding or else you’ll keep investigating her.”

  “She’s hiding something?” said Lachlan.

  “We’re only looking at all the angles,” I said. “We’re not investigating her.”

  “I watch TV shows,” said Sully. “You guys will keep looking into her, until you figure out her secret, and then you’ll find the real killer.”

  “What’s her secret?” said Lachlan.

  “I don’t know,” said Sully. “But I do know that I see her get dropped off by a human man in a fancy car. She won’t ever let him drive all the way up to the house. She always gets out around the block, down there.” He pointed. “And then she sneaks back in. I’ve seen her do it like ten times. She doesn’t know I watch her, but I do. Anyway, I’m only telling you that because I’m hoping it will help you clear my aunt so you can move on to finding the real killer.”

  “A human man?” said Lachlan. “Could you describe him?”

  “I only see him through the window of the car and it’s far away. So, I don’t really know what he looks like. But one time I saw her kissing him.”

  Kissing him?

  Lachlan and I shot a glance at each other, over the top of Sully’s head.