Kadin couldn’t tell which one impressed him more. “If you don’t know Pinky, why are you planning his party?”
Olivan made a clucking sound with his tongue. “Planning parties is what I do. Everyone who’s anyone in the sideways community knows that.”
She grabbed a dish towel and ran it under the water, then squeezed out the excess. “But if that’s the case, why don’t you know Pinky Boxer? Wouldn’t that be necessary networking?”
“Kadin, just because—”
“Does any of this have a point? Because I have a date in eleven minutes, and my shoes are still covered in mud.” She used the cloth to knock the larger chunks of dirt off the soles.
“Yes.” Kadin could almost see Olivan running a hand down his face to center his mind. “We need to raise money for Skella Best’s investigation, so we’re having a benefit tonight at Slides. If you value our friendship, you will be there at 8:00 pm. If that is insufficient incentive, the Dawban Steel Band is playing.”
Dawban Steel was one of the up-and-coming performers in the city. “How’d you get them on such short notice?” She wrapped the towel around one of the stilettos and twisted it to rub off the mud.
“Kadin. Must you doubt my skills?”
Kadin swiped along the insole of the pump and waited.
Olivan sighed. “All right, the drummer knew the dead girl, and the band happened to be free. So will you come?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” A loud rapping sounded from the living room. “Curses! I have to go. Dahran’s here.”
“Okay, bye.”
Kadin hung up the ringer. She made a quick pass at the left shoe with the cloth, then grabbed both pumps and scrambled into the living room, where Octavira sat on the couch flipping through a catalog. “Tell him I’ll be down in a minute! Sorry about the sink! I’ll clean it up later!”
“What about my sink?” Octavira called, but Kadin was up the stairs, by mercy of her firm grip on the railing. She looked back and forth between the shoe polish and her closet. Should she take the time to polish the shoes or wear the ones with smaller heels?
Muffled voices came from downstairs. I cannot leave Octavira alone with him. She’s better at spoiling my matrimonial prospects than I am.
Kadin slid on her inch-high pumps and grabbed her black coat out of the closet, hoping it stayed cold enough that she could leave it on through the drag. She took a few deep breaths so she wouldn’t look frantic when she met Dahran and kept her movements sedate as she descended the staircase.
As soon as she saw him, Kadin gave Dahran a bright smile and tried not to think how out of place his red and black leather drag clothes looked next to the worn pink and blue quilt on the sofa in her sister-in-law’s homey living room.
“Oh, you support the Red Phoenix, I see,” she said, naming the DeValeriel family-owned racer whose colors he wore. After she had finished looking through the Landis Imbolc file, she had taken time to read the glossy Olivan had given her.
Dahran’s gaze roamed up and down her figure, taking in the yellow and black fabric sticking out from under her coat. “And I see you’re in full support of the Yellow Comet?”
“I figured I’d keep my support in the investigations business, since CrimeSolve sponsors him, after all.” Kadin gave what she hoped was a flirtatious smile. “But you’re welcome to try to change my mind.” Though I’m not sure DeValeriel red would look any better with my hair than CrimeSolve yellow does with my complexion.
“Shall we?” Dahran extended a hand to indicate that Kadin should lead the way out, so she started forward, trying not to think about what he must be thinking of her backside. Full skirts were not a flattering look for her. Yet another reason not to borrow Octavira’s clothes.
“Don’t stay out too late,” Octavira said as Kadin stepped out the door. Dahran paused for a moment at the door, presumably to say farewell to Octavira, but Kadin didn’t turn back. She was too distracted by what was in front of her.
She hastened over to the shiny evergreen autocar idling by the curb. “This is one of the new Model Q’s! It’s the first autocar in this color.” She spun around to face Dahran as he came down the front porch stairs. “Is it yours?”
Dahran smiled and made a noise that sounded like “Mmm.” He reached past her and opened the car door to let her in.
Kadin’s shoulders slumped as she slid into the passenger-side seat. That means it’s not his, but he wants me to think it is.
Oh, no. You are not going down that path, another part of her thought. This is what Trinithy warned you about. You always find something wrong with the guys you’re seeing. It’s good that he wants to impress you.
Kadin forced herself to give Dahran a smile as he lowered himself into the driver’s seat. “Well, it’s amazing.”
“Not nearly as impressive as some of the vehicles we’re going to see today.” Dahran put the autocar into gear and pulled away from the curb. “The Amber Hawk is racing for only the second time with these new tires made out of a new, more elastic rubber…”
Dahran seemed content to talk about racing news as they drove. Kadin did her best to seem interested and make noises of approval at appropriate intervals. Meanwhile, she used his monologue to test herself on what she remembered about the drag participants. Flotilla Bank sponsored the Amber Hawk. The Fan family owned the Purple Jackrabbit, and the Orioles backed the Blue Tornado.
When they pulled up to the drag course and Dahran stopped the car, Kadin stepped out onto the large-stoned gravel that made up the parking lot and took a moment to be grateful for the small heels. The stilettos would have gotten caught in the crags. She pulled her coat tighter around herself and tried not to shudder as the cold wind wafted gasoline odor in her direction.
Dahran had come around the side of the car. He gave her a small frown, and she worried he noticed she had shrunk three inches since the day before. But when he glanced from her feet to the car, she realized that he had wanted to open the door for her.
Amateur mistake. Trinithy would be so ashamed.
They joined the horde of people pushing their way into the arena. Based on the predominant jacket color, the Red Phoenix had the biggest following, but sparks of blue, green, and amber dotted the crowd as well. Kadin even caught a few people who had dyed their hair to match the Comet’s. Blaring trumpets and roaring engines filled the air, so, even though she watched him out of the corner of her eye, she almost missed Dahran speaking to her.
She cupped a hand over her ear. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Can I buy you a drink?” Dahran pointed at the refreshment stand as they passed.
“Oh, sure.” Kadin brightened the smile she had glued to her face. “Don’t want to have to get up during the drag and miss the exciting bits!”
They joined what appeared to be the end of the queue, though Kadin didn’t think they were in a line so much as an amorphous mass of people demanding beverages.
Kadin cleared her throat. “So, how goes the search for Duke Baurus?” Deity save me, you did not ask about work.
Dahran didn’t seem to mind. “We’ve got some promising leads.”
Kadin had to fight her eyebrows flying up. This was news to her. “Oh, did you talk to King Ralvin or Lady Beatrin again, then?” She wanted to clap a hand over her mouth. Now you’re questioning his methods? Very attractive, K.
“Not exactly.” Dahran’s voice held the same displeasure she had heard on so many dates before. Why, oh why, couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?
Should I apologize or drop it? She tried to think what Trinithy would do, but, of course, Trinithy would never question her date’s competence in the first place.
Dahran pushed forward the last few inches to the front of the crowd and snapped his fingers to catch the barmaid’s attention.
“I’ll have a brew, whatever’s the darkest you have on tap.” Dahran glanced back at Kadin.
She stepped forward. “A diet fizzy, please?”
The barmaid nodded, and a few minutes later she passed them paper cups filled with cold beverages.
The condensation on the side of the beverage slid down Kadin’s fingers. She hadn’t considered having to hold a cup full of ice in the nippy weather.
I’ll drink it fast. She took a sip but nearly spit it out when the first carbonated drops exploded on her tongue.
Her expression must have given her away, because Dahran narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s not a big deal.” She took another sip to show him, but her shudder gave her away. “It’s not diet.” I can’t actually feel the sugar coating on my teeth.
Dahran’s nostrils flared, and he grabbed the soda from her, sending little droplets of sticky brown liquid flying onto her coat. He whipped around to face the bar and slammed Kadin’s fizzy on the counter so hard that soda and ice fell out in all directions.
“What is wrong with you?” Dahran shouted at the barmaid. “She specifically said ‘diet’!”
The girl’s eyes widened, and she reached out to take the drink. “I’m so sorry, sir. Let me get you another one.”
Dahran’s lip curled. “Deity, how stupid do you have to be to make a mistake like that?”
Kadin opened her mouth to tell him a different barmaid had poured their drinks, but something in the set of his jaw told Kadin she should keep silent. She offered the girl behind the counter an apologetic look, but the server didn’t appear to be in a forgiving mood. When she passed him the new drink, he snatched it up and thrust it at Kadin.
“I hate it when they do that.” Dahran gave a barking laugh. “If I were that poor at my job, there would be murderers walking around free.”
It’s just a drink. And didn’t you let a murderer go free yesterday under the auspices of doing your job? But she clamped her mouth shut and nodded at him.
Dahran held onto the tickets, so Kadin wasn’t sure which direction they needed to head to find their seats.
Not that I would know anyway. Someone jostled her and splashed still more fizzy onto her hand. This place is a zoo!
Dahran led them to a pair of seats inside the arena. Good seats, as far as Kadin could tell. They were five rows back and near the starting mark.
She lowered herself onto the orange plastic and took in all the sights of the track. The race didn’t begin until 1:00 pm, and she had worried hours of waiting would bore her. But the pre-show seemed to be as much of a draw as the drag itself.
A band of at least a hundred members in bright white and gold uniforms and matching puffy hats marched across the field, changing their formation from a phoenix to a hawk to a comet—shapes to represent every racer. Strident trumpets burst out in time with rapping snare drums, while flutes whistled out a descant.
In front of the band, twenty young women in glittering costumes danced and did flips in time with the music. Kadin realized these must be the infamous drag girls she had heard so much about, whose job was to rev up the crowd’s spirits, while wearing outfits the average Class D wouldn’t be seen dead in. Each racer had his own team of girls, and judging by the blue and green sequins glinting off the current dancers’ uniforms, they supported the Oriole-sponsored Blue Tornado.
Say something to Dahran, Kadin’s inner Trinithy prompted her. And don’t mention work. “So… do you have any family in the city?”
“Mm-hm.” Dahran’s gaze remained on the dancing girls, as they cartwheeled their way into their final pose. When the music stopped he turned to Kadin. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Oh, I was asking if you had any family in the city.” Kadin could feel her cheeks getting red, and she hoped he assumed her blush was a response to the cold air.
“No, they all live in Oriole Territory.” He flashed a grin. “Bet that’s hard to imagine, me growing up in a mining town.”
Kadin tried to imagine him in something other than the trench coat and fedora he’d worn to work all week—or, she supposed, the racing-fan garb—and came up blank. Somehow she couldn’t picture him shoveling coal and smelting iron.
Before she could respond, his gaze snapped to the black-and-red-clad DeValeriel girls now making their way onto the field.
Kadin wrapped her arms around herself. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk. That’s okay. We talked in the car on the way over, and there’s plenty to see here.
Kadin watched in fascination as more teams of girls performed intricate routines on the field. She didn’t think that she could ever be that flexible, or keep such a big smile on her face for so long. But Dahran seemed impressed with their long legs and bouncing breasts, if the way he ogled them was any indication. Even so, Kadin couldn’t help but get into the spirit of things. More than once she caught herself bopping her head to the music or humming along with songs she knew.
About half an hour before the race was scheduled to start, the girls vacated the fields, blowing kisses at their adoring fans, and a man in a brown tweed coat took their place.
“Greetings, everyone!” The announcer’s voiced swooped between high and low tones. “Welcome to the Valeriel Drag.”
The crowd cheered, and Kadin raised her voice with them. She glanced at Dahran, who clapped but didn’t seem inclined to yell.
“Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.” The announcer waved his arm as a drumroll sounded. “Your racers!”
The band sprang into action, and the audience jumped to its collective feet as eight men in brightly colored race suits ran onto the field. Kadin recognized the bright yellow hair on the one in the yellow and black costume, and some of the other faces looked a little familiar to her as well.
The drums beat a steady rhythm as the rest of the band quieted, and the announcer continued. “Hailing from the sandy shores of Barring, I give you the Grey Shark!”
The racer in the grey and white suit came forward to the front of the crowd waving a grey scarf. The spectators cheered again, and some of the fans wearing grey began to jump up and down. Kadin wanted to ask Dahran what was going on, but she would only prove she’d never been to the drag before.
The Grey Shark looked around the crowd, and after a moment pointed to a section of the audience. Kadin craned her neck to see, and as she watched, a young woman in a grey dress made her way to the front of the stands. The Grey Shark made a big show of bowing to her and giving her the scarf. The girl returned to her seat, a huge smile on her face, and the people next to her hugged her and hurrahed.
The announcer and four of the other racers repeated this ritual of choosing one girl in the crowd and giving her a scarf. Must be some kind of chivalrous ceremony. Each knight grants a token to the lady he races for. It’s kind of cute.
As the Amber Hawk returned to his place in the line, after handing an orange scarf to a girl who was so pleased she was nearly in tears, the announcer stepped forward again. “No crime will go unpunished so long as he and CrimeSolve are on the case. I give you the Yellow Comet.”
Dahran glanced at Kadin, and she remembered to applaud particularly loudly in support of her alleged favorite. The yellow-headed racer stepped to the front of the crowd waving a scarf the same shade as his hair. He pointed up in the crowd near Kadin. She turned to see who he was gesturing at, but when she felt a hand push her shoulder and a voice say, “Go on, honey,” she realized that the Yellow Comet was pointing at her and the yellow skirt puffed up around her knees.
She tripped on her way down the stairs, and once again felt flames of embarrassment on her cheeks. But she couldn’t help but laugh as the Yellow Comet made an elaborate show of kissing her hand as he handed her the scarf. She climbed back up to her seat with the cheers of the crowd to urge her on.
&
nbsp; But as she slid back into her place, she couldn’t escape Dahran’s glare. “What was that all about?” he asked. “You’re here with me.”
The pleasure drained out of her. “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize… I mean, he called me. Was I supposed to say no?”
Dahran clenched his jaw and looked away from her. Kadin thought about apologizing again and explaining that she was sure it didn’t mean anything, but somehow she worried that might make things worse.
This is going to be a long race.
Chapter 15
Kadin stepped off the autobus in the heart of the Triangle and hoped the night would go better than the afternoon had. Though she supposed her date with Dahran hadn’t gone too badly, considering some of her past experiences. He hadn’t spoken to her during the race, but once the Red Phoenix won the drag—beating out the Yellow Comet after the two had been neck and neck the entire last lap—Dahran had forgiven her. He had spent the ride home reliving the drag’s most exciting moments, and Kadin had to admit she hadn’t realized a drag could be so much fun.
All in all, though, she felt much more relaxed as she headed from the autobus stop to Slides. Not only had she gone home and replaced the yellow fright with her favorite black dress with silver edging along the surplice neckline, but she planned to spend the evening among sideways men, whom she didn’t need to impress.
About a block from the club, Kadin ran into the end of the line of people waiting to get in. Wow, Olivan sure put together a big event at the last minute. As the queue crept toward the entrance, she could hear the steady pulse of rock music thumping through the walls. She smiled and tapped her foot to the beat. When the last Dawban Steel LP had been released six months ago, Kadin had almost worn it through before Octavira declared she couldn’t listen to his gravelly voice another moment.
Catching a Man Page 16
