“It’s very hard to earn his trust,” his mother said sadly. “Very hard.”
“And if you break it, you can forget about ever getting it back,” his father added.
“Then I’m afraid it’s too late for me anyway,” I said weakly.
I turned to leave.
“Shade!” his mother blurted out.
I looked over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Don’t stop trying?”
My throat constricted, but I managed a smile. “I won’t.”
Chapter 14
“The dragon is a thief.”
Andy pushed a file across the table as I slid into the booth. Alexander’s was a classic bar and grill, and the noise from the wall of televisions was almost enough to block out my chaotic thoughts. I took a deep breath of air that smelled like fried food and beer, and stared at the folder. I could still see his ghostly parents in my mind, could hear the lilt in his mother’s voice as she begged me not to give up on Andy.
Andy tapped the file. “Vazkasi and his family own an import-export company called King’s Crossings. They specialize in antiquities and expensive art. Not only do they handle the shipping, they provide security. And at the client’s request, they’ll have an evaluation performed before the item is shipped for additional insurance purposes.”
I flipped open the folder and saw a picture of Vazkasi’s photocopied passport. I knew from one glance that the Vanguard had issued the document. Otherwise it would have been difficult to hide the dragonkin’s scales, and his gold eyes would have shone brighter in the image.
“King’s Crossings is a shady business?” I asked.
Andy took a sip of coffee, then set his mug down carefully away from the files. “Yes, but we can’t prove it.”
I turned a page in the file, running my gaze over the list of names. Nothing was jumping out at me. “So what’s the crime? Theft? Forgery?”
“Forgery. And murder.”
I jerked my head up. “Murder?”
Andy nodded. “That file is from the Art Crime Team. Two years ago, someone accused King’s Crossings of replacing their shipment with a forgery. The man who filed the complaint claimed that someone at the company paid off the man in charge of the evaluation. According to him, the artifact he delivered to King’s Crossings for shipping was genuine, hence his willingness to have the company’s evaluator look at it so it would qualify for extra insurance. When the evaluator claimed the artifact was a forgery, the client lost his mind. Tried to take the whole company to court.”
“You said they couldn’t prove anything,” I said, scanning the file. “There wasn’t any evidence?”
“They never made it that far. The day after the initial filing, the irate client died in an accident at sea.”
“Suspicious circumstances?”
Andy shook his head, but his mouth tightened into a grim line. “A perfectly innocent accident. Heart attack while he was out on his yacht.” He leaned back in his seat. “Don’t suppose you know of anything that can mimic a heart attack?”
Peasblossom snorted. “There are plenty of creatures that could cause a heart attack.”
“That’s what I figured. I talked to the agent who would have been in charge of the investigation. He said he tried to speak with some of King’s Crossings’ other clients, but no one would talk to him.”
“No one wants to risk their treasures being labeled forgeries,” I guessed.
“Right.”
I frowned. “I can understand dragons specializing in high end art and antiquities. That would be the perfect cover for treasure hunting. They just sit back and wait for rich people to pay them to ship their treasure, and if they see something they want—”
“Then they replace it with a forgery,” Andy finished. “That’s my thought.”
“But it makes no sense to steal from the museum,” I said doubtfully. “It’s too risky. A piece of gold isn’t worth getting on the bad side of any fey, let alone a sidhe as powerful—and influential—as Marilyn. Make her mad and they risk losing access to the entirety of Cleveland’s art scene.”
“It’s true,” Peasblossom agreed. “Dragons don’t want power, they want gold. So the magic capabilities of the set wouldn’t be enough motivation to steal from Marilyn.”
“It would be tough to prove it even if he is involved,” Andy pointed out. “He has a reason for his prints to be on the forgery since he’s the one that delivered it.”
“Speaking of prints,” I said. “Alicia’s didn’t match. But she was wearing gloves both times I saw her, so if that’s a habit of hers then she probably wouldn’t have left prints.” I leaned in. “But one thing that was interesting—Kathy was at her house. Her prints didn’t match either, but I don’t like coincidences.”
“Yeah, she mentioned you might have got the wrong impression,” Andy said.
I froze. “She mentioned it? To you? When?”
Andy grabbed his coffee. “I didn’t call her, and I didn’t try to go behind your back. She called me. From what she said, it sounds like she called me as soon as you left her. She said she hoped she’d put your suspicions to rest about her being involved in the thefts when she let you take her prints and they didn’t match. But then you saw Kathy, and she thought you misread the situation.”
“I’ll bet,” Peasblossom scoffed.
Andy ignored her. “She wanted to assure me there was no collusion between her and Kathy. Obviously, I took everything she said with a grain of salt.” He glanced at Peasblossom. “I’m not an idiot.”
“You did talk to a fey—” Peasblossom started to argue.
I tapped her on the head, and she scowled and smacked my finger.
“Anyway,” Andy continued, “she asked a lot of questions about the case. I got the impression she doesn’t know where the bowl or the chalice is, but she is looking for them.”
“So either she’s the thief and she’s putting on a show, or we’re not the only ones planning to steal them back from the thief after the ritual.”
“You haven’t told me about the person that followed you,” Andy said after taking a sip of his coffee. “Do you know who it was?”
The mention of the tail sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t help but look around as though the grey hulking man would appear out of nowhere. Keeping my voice low, I told Andy about Jim’s call, and everything that followed. I left out the part about Jim knowing I’d worked for Anton Winters. Andy didn’t know Anton was a vampire, but as an FBI agent, I had to assume he knew he was a criminal.
By the time I was done, Andy was seething, the muscle in his jaw twitching in time with his pulse. “I don’t think Mr. Givens has any room to throw stones in this particular glass house.” He grabbed a few pages from the file he’d given me, flipping through them until he found what he was looking for. He jabbed his finger at a name on the sheet of paper. “He’s the evaluator who was accused of falsely identifying the stolen artifact as a forgery.”
“WHAT?” Peasblossom roared.
I held a hand up to quiet her. “So Jim doesn’t just work with Marilyn and the museum, he works for Vazkasi’s family and King’s Crossings.” My temper flared, bright and hot. “So all that time he was accusing me of being a criminal, when he’s a suspect in a theft linked to a suspicious death. A little coincidental for him to be accused of switching a real treasure for a forgery twice.”
“What if this is a common practice for them?” Andy suggested. “The dragons keep an eye out for treasure worth stealing. If they find it, they sell their client on the extra insurance, which requires an evaluation by their wizard. Jim ‘evaluates’ it and declares it a forgery. Meanwhile, he pockets the real thing.”
“They’d have to be careful,” Peasblossom pointed out. “If they picked on someone who had some means of knowing their artifact was the real deal, then they could be killed. Or worse, reported to the Vanguard.”
I tapped a finger on the table. “So Jim does the evaluation of the chalice for Mar
ilyn. It’s powerful, but cursed. Also, worthless without the other items. Then Mr. Masters brings in the bowl. Now Jim knows about the bowl and the chalice.”
“We need to ask Alicia if Catherine ever had her knife evaluated,” Andy said. “If she did, maybe she used Jim too. Then he’d know about the whole set.”
“There’s still the matter of the curse,” Peasblossom pointed out.
“She’s right,” I agreed. “Jim knows the items are cursed. He wouldn’t risk that.”
“He couldn’t remove the curse?” Andy asked.
“He might be able to, but removing a curse is risky, even for someone who knows what they’re doing,” I reminded him. “If he tried to remove it, he’d risk being cursed anyway.”
“So he has no motive,” Andy said flatly.
I leaned back in the booth, grasping the edge of the table with both hands. “He doesn’t need power. And the money wouldn’t make the risk worth it.”
“Maybe it’s the curse,” Peasblossom suggested. “He certainly enjoys the view from his high horse.”
“What do you mean?” Andy asked.
“You think maybe he’s stealing the items so no one else can steal them and use them?” I asked. “You think he’s just getting them out of circulation?”
“Maybe.” Peasblossom shrugged.
“It gets more interesting,” Andy said, flipping through the file. “Givens isn’t the only person involved in this case that has a connection to King’s Crossings.”
I followed his gesture. “Vulcan’s Forge?”
“It’s another company that works with King’s Crossings,” Andy explained. “Their website says they produce custom art, mostly metalworking. I don’t know what they do for King’s Crossing, but check out who owns Vulcan’s Forge.”
My lips parted as I read the name. “Alicia Levand?”
Andy nodded. “I dug a little deeper. According to Vulcan Forge’s bank records, metalworking is a very lucrative business. One that has attracted some very familiar names.”
“Familiar names?”
“For me, not you.”
I frowned, then understanding dawned. “Organized crime?”
“It would seem Alicia has been farming out Catherine’s skills to a less than savory crowd.”
“That’s what Devanos meant when he said Alicia turned Catherine into a forger,” I murmured. “But how could that be connected to the thefts?”
Before Andy could answer, a waitress stopped by the table. She gave me a big smile, but her gaze twitched toward Andy. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“A Coke would be great.”
She stepped closer to Andy as she wrote down my order. “Anything more for you?”
“No, I’m fine, thanks.”
She lingered longer than she had to, but moved on when Andy reached for the file again.
“All right,” he said, putting his mug down. “Scenario number one. Alicia is the thief. She found out about Masters from someone at the museum. She goes to bargain with him, but he refuses. There’s an altercation, and he dies. She steals the bowl, and later she calls Kathy and pays her to get rid of the evidence after the police release the scene.”
I nodded. “Alicia knows Vazkasi, they have a business relationship. Maybe she trades one job for another? Promises Catherine will make him forgeries to switch with some of the more expensive gold items he ships, if he’ll take a chalice she made and exchange it for the real one at the museum.”
“Now all she has to do is get the knife from Catherine. And we know Catherine would just let her use it if she asked. And then all she needs to do is find someone powerful to help her activate the set.”
Peasblossom slumped against my neck. “That’s easier said than done. You heard Devanos. Rumors are flying that sets like that steal someone’s power. Who’s going to agree to use it for Alicia? She’s not exactly someone people bend over backwards to help.”
“She could trick someone,” I suggested. “Those sets are rare, so most people don’t think of them anymore. Take them to a dinner party, glamour them to look like the host’s set. No one’s the wiser.”
“Does it work without intent?” Andy asked.
“That I don’t know.”
The waitress dropped off my Coke, somehow managing to set it down without looking at it—her full attention reserved for Andy. Andy didn’t even look up.
I waited for the disappointed woman to leave. “Scenario number two. Jim is the thief. Not because he wants power, but because he knows the artifacts are cursed, and he doesn’t want anyone using them. He takes the chalice out of play the first time he analyzes it. There are transmutation spells that would let him take a different object and make it look like the chalice, as long as no one looked too close. He thinks he’s done, the rest of the set is harmless without the chalice. Then the bowl is stolen. He starts to worry someone is searching in earnest. He sends out the grey man to retrieve the other pieces, grey man kills Masters in the process.”
“Which might explain why it looked like an accident,” Andy agreed. “I can see Masters getting scared of a guy like that. Maybe he backed away, lost his balance.”
“Which means all they need now is the knife. And then there’s scenario number three.”
“Which is?”
I dragged my Coke closer to me. “Simon.”
Andy frowned. “You still think he could have managed all this?”
“I don’t think it takes someone strong or powerful to kill an old man,” I pointed out. “And he works at the museum. And he’s been studying metalworking. He could have made a fake chalice.”
“You think that kid started studying metalworking and now all of a sudden he can make an exact replica of a rare sidhe artifact?” Andy asked doubtfully. “And you think being a step above unpaid intern gets him access to the displays to make the switch?”
My heart skipped a beat, and I put my Coke down without taking a sip. “I forgot to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Andy asked sharply.
“Marilyn is Simon’s patron,” I whispered.
Blood rushed to Andy’s face, the veins in his temples growing thick as they pulsed beneath his skin. “He’s her slave.”
“Good as. But that relationship is a strong bond, and I’m not using that word in a symbolic way. Accepting Marilyn as his patron would have dramatically improved his skills. Leannan sidhe specialize in inspiration, in pushing people to reach past their limits, do things they couldn’t do before. With her help, he could have made that forgery. And as her protege, he very well could have had access.”
Andy downed the rest of his coffee and slammed the mug on the table. The waitress appeared holding the pot, as if she’d been out of sight waiting for this opportunity. She took one look at Andy’s face and her eyes widened. She poured the coffee and fled without a word.
Andy took a gulp of steaming coffee and I winced. That was going to burn.
“You think he’d steal from his patron?” Andy asked, his voice hoarse.
“I don’t know,” I said quietly.
Andy took another long drink of coffee, then put the mug down with deliberate care. “All right. So all suspects are still on the table.”
“Alicia will be at the opera tonight,” I said. “If she’s the thief and she’s used the artifacts, I can just ask her.”
“Benefit of a truth curse,” Peasblossom agreed.
“And if not, then we stick to Catherine, see who tries to approach her,” Andy spoke up. “Crowded public place like the opera would be the perfect chance for someone to steal the knife.”
It was a testament to the sort of day I’d had that the critical word in Andy’s assertion didn’t register until it was too late. “We?”
A shadow fell over Andy’s face, and I could feel his anger like a heatwave as it rolled over the table. “I’m not staying behind this time.”
I hadn’t thought he would. Which meant he was coming with me.
To be the gue
st of Anton Winters.
The vampire.
Blood and bone…
Chapter 15
“You’re going to be covered in cat fur.”
Andy’s disapproving voice echoed in the parking garage outside the opera house. He touched his own immaculate suit as if just standing near me and my furry dress would contaminate him. Which it would, of course. That was the nature of cat hair.
I stood beside the SUV in the parking garage, allowing myself a moment to appreciate how nice he looked. It wasn’t a tux, but it was a high quality suit, and the black jacket and pants with the midnight blue shirt looked very nice on him. The dark hues made his hair look lighter by comparison, and somehow the effect softened his features. There was no mistaking the tension in his body, but despite that, he seemed almost more comfortable the more dressed up he was.
“Better cat fur on my dress than destructive magic in the opera house,” I answered, settling Majesty in my arms.
“You look like a villain from a movie set,” Peasblossom groused.
Majesty’s ears perked up, and he squirmed in my arms, trying to follow the pixie’s voice to the source. I scratched him behind the ear, deliberately pushing his face away from my neck, where Peasblossom was hiding underneath my hair.
“Any sign of the wizard or his friend?” Andy asked under his breath.
I started to say no, then realized he wasn’t talking to me.
Scath’s green eyes swept over our surroundings, gleaming when they caught the reflection of the streetlights as we left the garage. The sidhe was back in cat form, as she’d been when I found her waiting for me at my apartment when I’d gone for a change of clothes. She huffed out a short breath that Andy and I took for a no.
Despite that assurance, my nerves wound tighter with every step, and by the time we entered the opera house, I was sure I was vibrating. As soon as we walked inside, I looked at Andy. He’d seen a lot of the Otherworld, but tonight would still be an eye-opener.
Harpies perched above us, lighting on decorative bars fastened to the high walls for just such guests. Their human female faces watched the crowds below while feathered bodies shuffled on scaly, taloned feet. They showed particular interest in anyone near the concession stands, but even they knew better than to steal here.
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