I grabbed Peasblossom and gave Catherine an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. She’s incredibly nosy, I should have seen that coming.” I leaned closer. “I’ve been lax with discipline on account of her wings.”
Right on cue, Peasblossom’s expression turned pathetic, and she angled her body to show the group her damaged wings. The left one twitched pitifully.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Catherine said. She waved a hand. “My dress will be fine, no harm done.”
I looked at the torn lace. “Please, let me fix it. There’s a ladies’ room right there, it won’t take but a moment.”
“I’ll come too,” Alicia said, putting a possessive hand on Catherine’s shoulder.
Frustration tightened my jaw, but I forced myself to nod. I didn’t want to have my conversation with Catherine in front of another suspect, but there was little I could do to stop her without making myself look more suspicious.
“Vazkasi, go with them,” Devanos ordered.
“He can’t go in the girls’ room,” Peasblossom said indignantly.
“He’ll wait outside and make sure that everyone comes out as they went in.”
“She’s a witch,” Simon’s voice said from behind me. “She doesn’t need to take her into the ladies room to fix it, she could do it here in two seconds.”
I watched Simon approach. My heart skipped a beat as I realized Andy was nowhere to be seen. He’d said he was going to find Simon, so where was he?
Simon smirked at me as he came to stand by Catherine. “Makes you wonder why she’s trying to get her alone, doesn’t it?” he said to Vazkasi.
“Simon,” Vazkasi said with genuine affection. “Look at you dressed in such fine clothes. You look like a gentleman.”
“Thanks, Vaz.” A furrow appeared between his brows. “What brings you here?”
“Moonlighting,” Vazkasi said. “I am making sure the thief who dared to steal part of a set from Marilyn does not finish the job.”
Simon looked at Catherine and his grin widened. He took her hand in his, and in a smooth fashion I wouldn’t have considered him capable of, laid a kiss on the back of her knuckles. Catherine blushed.
“I don’t believe anyone could look at you and not be so distracted by your beauty that they forgot any ill intentions.”
Simon moved closer as he spoke, getting cozy with Catherine while simultaneously crowding me into taking a step back to avoid being jostled. Vazkasi clapped him on the back, but Devanos didn’t look happy. Alicia parted her lips as if she’d give him a gentle reminder to give her niece some space.
“Hey!” Catherine yelped.
“What’s wrong?” Devanos demanded.
Everyone backed away from Catherine, and my pulse raced when I realized she had her hand over her thigh—where the knife had been.
Chapter 17
“No one moves!” Vazkasi roared, his gold eyes locked on me.
“It’s all right, it’s still there!” Catherine kept one hand over her thigh, the other going to her heart. She fumbled with her skirt, lifting it just enough to confirm. “Still there.”
She looked straight at me, and Devanos followed her gaze. “You,” he growled.
I channeled my indignation into the best witchy look I could manage. “I didn’t touch her.”
Disgust twisted Simon’s features as he positioned himself beside Devanos. “Decided to try for it even though you couldn’t get her alone?” he sneered. “Typical.”
“Catherine, let’s get back to our seats,” Alicia said firmly, guiding her back toward the open doors. “Vazkasi, see that she doesn’t follow us.”
“I will,” Vazkasi murmured.
The group broke apart, and I watched helplessly as Catherine was herded back into the theater with my possible suspects all around her. Blood and bone, that had not gone well.
Not that I’m allowed to stop the thief anyway, I reminded myself. I just want to catch them in the act.
I didn’t even sound convincing to myself.
“Devanos?” I called out as he took a step after his daughter.
The sidhe returned to me, his features still hard with anger and his voice low. “What is it now? Will you offer your services to protect my daughter from the thief?”
“I didn’t try to steal her knife,” I said, keeping my voice as calm and cool as I could. “I told you, I’m trying to find the thief. I don’t want to see Catherine get hurt. And if you care about your daughter at all, you’ll make sure she’s not alone with Simon.”
“Simon?” Devanos frowned. “Marilyn’s boy?”
I curled my hands into fists. “He’s not her boy, he’s her slave.”
Devanos rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes, I’d heard you had sour feelings toward the leannan sidhe. Tell me, did that prejudice predate your master, or has Flint poisoned you against his people all on his own?”
I flinched. So he knew about Flint too. Fantastic.
He didn’t give me a chance to respond before continuing. “In any case, there’s no reason to worry. As you can see, we have the extra help we need to make sure my daughter is safe.”
“Yes, you hired a dragon suspected of theft and murder,” I said sarcastically.
Devanos’ eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Vazkasi works for a shipping company his family owns. Three years ago, one of his clients discovered the item they’d had King’s Crossings ship was a forgery. He dared to claim that the dragons stole the original and gave him a fake in its place.”
“And what proof was there?” Devanos demanded.
“There was never an investigation,” I countered. “Because the victim of the theft was murdered shortly thereafter, and the forgery was never recovered.”
Devanos looked at me for a long minute. “So to be clear, you suspect Simon—the human boy—but you also suspect the dragon I hired to watch my daughter. Have you dismissed Alicia, then?”
I hesitated. “I believe Simon is the thief. But I have no proof, so I can’t rule out the others. And considering one of the victims of these thefts was murdered, I think it’s better to err on the side of caution. For Catherine’s sake.”
“Ah, finally something we can agree on.” Devanos paused. “You would give me your word that you have no interest in using these artifacts for yourself—or for one of your associates?”
“I give you my word I have no desire to use the artifacts, or to acquire them for any of my associates to use.” I said a small prayer of thanks that Flint had ordered me to return the items directly to their owners. Thanks to that stipulation, I could honestly claim he didn’t intend to use them.
Devanos considered that. “Do you have any interest in someone who is not your associate, but who is not the rightful owner, using them?”
My stomach dropped. I’d been so close. “I don’t want anyone to use the artifacts,” I said finally. “You have my word on that.”
“A careful phrasing that is irrelevant for someone who belongs to someone else,” Devanos murmured. “I didn’t ask what you want.”
“I am going to return those artifacts to their rightful owners,” I said firmly. “That means the knife goes to your daughter, the chalice goes to Marilyn, and the bowl goes to Kathy.”
It didn’t matter if he knew who the previous owners were. In the unlikely event he was involved in the theft, it was too late anyway.
“And will you return them unused?” Devanos pressed.
I cursed. Damn his eyes and his sidhe obsession with asking the perfect question.
He read the answer in my body language. “I see. In that case, you’ll understand if I tell you that you must stay away from Catherine.”
I followed him into the theater, still trying to think of something to say, some way to change his mind. Vazkasi stopped me at the row of seats where Catherine and Alicia were already waiting.
“You seem less than confident in my ability to protect Catherine,” the dragon said. “Let me reassure you that no one will steal from her while she is under
my care.”
“Anyone can be blind to the faults of someone they care about.” I looked him in the eye. “I suspect Simon has qualities that you willingly overlook.”
Vazkasi arched an eyebrow. It didn’t arch all the way up thanks to a patch of scales on that side of his forehead, but it conveyed his skepticism. “Is it the fact that he was a street urchin that troubles you? Is that why you’re so ready to call him a thief?”
“Not at all,” I said, horrified at the suggestion. “My concerns for him started when I saw his artwork. His original artwork.” I leaned in, speaking in a lower voice. “The ones he painted with the blood. Surely you’ve seen the way he treats people?”
“He treats me just fine,” Vazkasi said reasonably. “It is only you and your partner who bring out the worst in him. I don’t see that as his fault.”
“He treats you better because you aren’t human,” I said. “He wants to be part of the Otherworld so badly he’d embrace anyone he felt could help him stay a part of that world.”
“So you call him a racist against his own kind?”
Frustration tightened my nerves. Vazkasi had to be playing dumb. There was no way he could be so blind to Simon’s hatred, that terrifying darkness inside of him that spoke of a hole no amount of adoration could fill.
“I think he’s dangerous,” I said finally. “And I think your affection for him will make you too slow when the time comes.”
Anger flashed in Vazkasi’s eyes. “You think I’d let Simon hurt someone I’ve given my word to protect?”
“Where were you the night of August 7th?” I asked.
Vazkasi leaned back, both eyebrows rising this time. “Why?”
“Just answer the question.”
“I was working.”
“So the museum will have a record of you being there. You’ll be on the security cameras?”
“Not the museum. I worked my other job. At my family’s shipping business.”
“King’s Crossings.”
His eyes narrowed. “Yes.”
“That would be the shipping company accused of stealing a man’s priceless artifact and replacing it with a fake, only to end up dead before he could file a report?”
Vazkasi looked away then. “You speak of things you know nothing about.”
“I know I don’t believe in coincidences,” I said. “And I can’t help but notice that the last time we spoke, you were in a hurry to track down and punish a certain wizard. But now you seem to have forgotten all about him and you’re standing thirty feet away from the final piece of the stolen set.”
Vazkasi snorted. “I have satisfied myself that the wizard was not involved with these thefts.”
“Or maybe you only pretended to be angry with him before?” I suggested. “Honor among thieves? Protecting your partner? You said you needed to track him down, but he’s agoraphobic. You knew where he was the whole time.”
Vazkasi snorted again, and this time, tiny curls of grey smoke puffed out of his nostrils. “Now you accuse Givens. Is there anyone you will not claim is the thief?”
His message was clear. He thought I was trying to cast suspicion away from myself, blaming anyone I could make look guilty.
He went on, “Givens is what the humans would call a ‘goody two-shoes.’ He’s always worrying about the greater good, always ready to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong out of some misguided desire to save the world. He works for the police, you know. He and his little partner run about stealing artifacts ‘too dangerous’ to fall into the wrong hands.” He paused, then smirked as he added, “No, I am sorry. Not stealing. Givens says it’s ‘confiscating.’” He snorted again, letting loose a larger puff of smoke. “He is the one who stole the Eye of Anubis, you know.”
I shook my head. “Simon is the one with the strongest motive to use the artifacts, despite the fact that they’re cursed. He had access to the chalice, he could have known about the bowl.” I gestured at Simon, who was waving at Catherine. “Now he’s trying to sidle up to Catherine to get closer to her knife. Is that a coincidence then?”
“He doesn’t like you,” Vazkasi said honestly. “He would cozy up to her just to see you twitch.”
“You don’t have to believe me. You just have to keep your eyes open. Really keep them open. And no matter what happens, you need to be ready to do what has to be done.”
The dragon’s eyes flashed and he stepped forward, crowding my space.
“The curtain is rising, Mother Renard. Run along.” His voice hardened. “And stay away from Simon.”
There was nothing else to say, so I nodded my acknowledgment and made my way back to the Winters’ box. Andy was already there. I paused before walking inside, noticing that he was already seated. He scooted forward as if wanting to be closer to the stage. I stepped inside, and when I got closer I noticed how his eyes were darting around the stage. Looking for Borgia.
I looked at Vera, but she just smiled. It would have been more comforting if I knew her better. If I could be certain that smile wasn’t hiding something.
“Did you find Simon?” I asked Andy.
“He wouldn’t talk to me at all,” Andy said without turning his gaze from the stage. “He stood with Marilyn until he heard you talking to Catherine, then he went over.”
I waited, but he didn’t add anything more. “I didn’t see you,” I prompted.
His focus didn’t waver. “You’ve made it pretty clear that I’m not useful when interviewing Otherworlders, so I left you to handle it.”
I froze, staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. This was not the Andy I knew.
Or maybe it was.
I lowered myself into my seat. For the first time since Andy’s temper had started slipping away from him, I let myself wonder if maybe this was the real Andy. Maybe the Andy I thought I’d known had been the illusion. Maybe that professional FBI mask was like his suit, part of a facade he held up to hide what he was really feeling. And now, it was all melting away.
“He’s a good man.”
The voice of Andy’s father echoed in my mind. The assurance smacked of someone who needed someone to believe him, someone who knew the evidence wouldn’t always be there to back him up. I looked at Andy, and I wondered if his facade would have broken if I hadn’t showed him the Otherworld. If I hadn’t scared him.
“Anton has a temper too,” Vera said conversationally.
I tore my gaze from Andy in time to see her put a hand over Anton’s, squeezing it with a soft smile playing over her lips. Tension danced over my nerves. If Vera thought comparing Andy to Anton was going to comfort me, then she’d misread the situation. Badly.
“I don’t judge him for those moments,” Vera continued. “I judge him for his goals, and the effort he puts into meeting them. I see him for the passion that keeps him going.”
The curtain rose and the lights dimmed, and I’ve rarely been so grateful for an interruption. I didn’t want to think about Andy, not right now. And I certainly didn’t want to listen to someone compare him to Anton Winters. Borgia came on stage, and Andy leaned forward. Scath settled on the floor, close to the railing so she could see through the space between the bars. I hadn’t even seen her come into the booth. She hadn’t given me any hint at all to what she’d found, or not found. Both of them went completely still. Mesmerized.
I got up and left the booth. I needed to clear my head, think about the case without Borgia’s voice in my ears, her magic soaking the air around me. I left the theater and stalked over to a chair near the snack vendor, close to the doors so I could see anyone who left the theater.
Peasblossom unzipped my waist pouch and began a negotiation with Bizbee for a packet of honey, and I left her to it. As I considered my suspects, an idea began to take form in my mind. A plan. I didn’t have to stop the thief. Until now, that fact had been nothing but a misery to me, something to regret. But if I stopped worrying about it, and started considering it an opportunity…
“Peasbl
ossom, I have a plan.”
The second half of the opera took the better part of an hour, so I had plenty of time to talk to my familiar, ironing out the details of my idea. She had listened intently, offering feedback between swallows of honey, her pink eyes shining with anticipation. By the time the doors opened, we were both ready.
Devanos walked out of the theater with Catherine on his arm, and Alicia trailing behind like a governess. Vazkasi led the party, and when his scornful gold-eyed stare fell on me, he quickly put himself between me and his clients. Devanos didn’t spare me so much as a glance as he led Catherine away from me, but Alicia studied me as she passed. This time, instead of ignoring her, I raised a hand.
“Alicia, may I speak with you?”
Alicia’s eyebrows rose, and she put a hand to her chest. Devanos shot me a death glare, and Catherine stopped walking, her attention darting from Devanos to Alicia to me and back.
“Excuse me,” Alicia murmured.
I waited while she wove her way through the crowd, pleased when Catherine insisted on waiting for her a short distance away. She and her bodyguard should hear everything I said, even over the noise of the crowd filing out of the theater.
“Yes, Mother Renard, how can I help you?” Alicia asked.
“I know you didn’t steal anything,” I lied. “It’s obvious how much you care for Catherine. You’re the only one not leaping to conclusions. You seem to be taking the threat to her life seriously, no matter who might have done it.”
Alicia didn’t react other than to murmur “Go on.”
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “I have reason to believe that Simon is going to invite Catherine to the private showing of his work tomorrow night. I don’t have to tell you what an opportunity that would be for the thief. Marilyn’s property is vast, and right on the edge of Lake Erie. It would be far too easy for the thief to isolate Catherine through some pitiful excuse, and if they succeeded, escape would be all but guaranteed. Not to mention, Marilyn is such a vivacious hostess I can only imagine how easy it would be for the thief to trick her into serving them with the stolen artifacts.”
Betrayal Page 21
