Flint narrowed his eyes and took a step toward me. “You are more powerful now than you’ve ever been, thanks to me. Without the training I forced on you, you’d be dead. You make too many enemies, Shade, too many powerful enemies. And your biggest concern is still the human.”
“No, my biggest concern is me,” I shot back. “Me. My life. I worked my tail off to get to a point where I could choose my own path, and I was making progress—fast progress. And I would have trained more with my magic on my own, I didn’t need you there hurling goblins at me.”
I took a step closer to him, narrowing my eyes as I met his. “So don’t you dare take credit for that. I fought to get here. It was my effort. And you don’t get to pretend you know what I would have done. I didn’t need aggressive magic as a village witch. I do as a PI. And I would have worked for it. Because I decided it was a priority. But now instead of being out there helping people, I’m standing by watching someone get cursed because you want help recovering your inheritance.”
Flint froze. His eyes lightened, hazel shifting to tiger’s eye gold. “Inheritance?”
Blood and bone. Too late, I remembered that I’d avoided telling Flint about the wizard. I rolled my shoulders, trying to release some of the tension. Sod it.
“How did you know the artifacts belong to my family?” Flint asked softly.
“I talked to Jim Givens. I thought he might be able to help track down the bowl using the chalice, and he had a working relationship with Mari—”
“You talked to Jim ‘Givens not Takens?’” Flint echoed.
I frowned. “You know him?” I stalked over to the fridge to grab milk for my coffee. “Was he on your wizard hit list?”
“I considered him. Jim is very powerful, and his knowledge of ancient artifacts is unmatched.”
“So why didn’t you?”
Flint shrugged. “It’s all about risk assessment.”
I didn’t bother asking more questions. He obviously wasn’t going to answer them.
“So what is your plan?” Flint asked finally.
“I have an invitation to Marilyn’s tonight for a private showing of Simon’s work,” I said, watching the milk lighten my coffee. “All my suspects will be there. I plan to watch them all, let the thief choose their moment. And when the night is over, I’ll ask them who took it.”
Flint let out a sardonic laugh. “The curse.”
“The truth curse, yes. Once the thief is successful, I’ll simply ask them. I’ll know who has the items, and it will be a simple matter of stealing them back.”
“You think that will be simple?”
“Yes.”
“And you will remember that your task is not to bring the thief to justice,” Flint reminded me. “I don’t care if they’re punished. I just want those items returned to the humans who own them.”
“And why is that again?” I demanded, turning with my coffee cradled in my hands. “Why do you want them returned to the humans instead of to you? They’re yours, aren’t they? Or they should be. You have to know someone who would risk that curse to remove it for you.” I paused. “How exactly did they come to be cursed, anyway? And in the hands of humans?”
“That is none of your concern. Just do your job.”
“Well, of course it would be easier to do my job if you didn’t interfere,” I said lightly. Opting for a stab in the dark, I added, “For example, if you hadn’t spoken to Catherine and her father, then they wouldn’t distrust me.”
Flint didn’t deny it. “You were veering off track. Warning people about the curse.” He wagged a finger at me. “That’s cheating.”
I groped for an appropriately scathing response while his smile grew.
“But I’m pleased with your progress, Shade. And if you are as successful tonight as you seem confident you will be, then perhaps you can take some time off to help your FBI agent with one of his cases.” He paused. “Unless you’ve finally read the file?”
I glared at him. “No.”
Flint shrugged. “Suit yourself. But I think you’d find it…enlightening.”
I glared at him as he left. As soon as the door closed, I slammed my coffee down, sloshing it over the sides and not caring. I stormed toward the bathroom, already pulling my shirt over my head.
“What are you doing?” Peasblossom asked.
“I’m going to get a shower and get dressed. And then you and I are going to see a wizard.”
Chapter 20
“Don’t dismiss Jim as a threat,” Peasblossom warned. “Now is not the time to go charging in without a plan.”
I pulled my car into the first gas station I spotted. I’d rolled my window down, and now the smell of gasoline mixed with the scent of shampoo from my freshly washed hair. I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not charging in without a plan. Vazkasi said Jim works for law enforcement.”
Peasblossom climbed up on the gearshift and stood with her arms crossed. “And you believe him?”
“Trust, but verify.” I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Blake’s cell phone number, showing Peasblossom what I was doing before putting the phone to my ear.
“Never trust a dragon,” Peasblossom muttered. She kicked the gear shift and lost her balance, falling with a squeak of dismay.
I sighed and fished her out of the footwell to put her on my shoulder. I started to tell her she needed to be more careful, but Blake’s voice in my ear cut me off.
“Mother Renard,” Blake answered. “Good timing. I’ve got Kathy’s and Alicia’s phone records. I’m not seeing any calls between them before August 7th, but there was a call on August 8th.”
I blinked in surprise. I’d all but given up on that particular lead. “Just one call?”
“Yeah. Didn’t last long, but right after that, Kathy called a disposal company. I called them and they remembered her. She wanted to know if she could bring in a load of garbage to be destroyed right away.”
“And they didn’t think that was strange?” I put a hand to my forehead. “I assume the garbage in question was a bloody carpet.”
“It was. The guy didn’t like talking about it, but I went down and had a word in person. I think in the future he’ll be more vigilant for potential crime evidence.”
I pressed the phone harder to my ear, listening for some sign that Liam was in the room with Blake. Not that I didn’t like Blake, I did. He was a good cop, if a little moody at times. But I was surprised he’d taken this level of initiative helping me out.
There. A squeaky desk chair bearing too much weight on the backrest.
“I really appreciate the information,” I said honestly. “That’s a big help. I’ll talk to Alicia again, see if she wants to update me on her and Kathy’s relationship.”
“Glad I could help.” He paused. There were muffled voices in the background, as if he’d put his hand over the phone to talk to someone. Probably Liam. “Is there anything else you need?” he asked. “I don’t have Simon’s information yet. That phone company is being a little stingier with their information. But I think I know someone that can help, so I should have more soon.”
“Actually, I was wondering if you knew a wizard named Jim Givens. Someone told me he works with law enforcement and—”
“Jim ‘Givens not Takens?’” Blake snorted. “I know him. He doesn’t exactly work for the cops. There’s one detective that uses him. Detective David Briggs. Human. Good man.”
“So you would say Jim Givens is trustworthy?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t say any wizard is trustworthy. I keep an eye on Wince, waiting for him to go insane one day. Something about working with magic all the time tends to—”
He cut himself off, lapsing into awkward silence.
“It’s all right,” I said dryly. “I’m not offended. Do you know how I can contact Detective Briggs?”
“I have his number,” Blake said. “I’ll text it to you.”
“You have his number?”
“I have the number of a lot of police, la
wyers, judges, and politicians who have had experience with the Otherworld,” Blake answered. “Never know when that will come in handy.”
It made sense. A lot of sense. I should have a list of numbers like that. I looked at Peasblossom and she nodded. She’d had the same idea. She slid down my shirt and headed for the waist pouch to make a note.
“I’ll call you when I have Simon’s information,” Blake finished.
“Thanks, Blake, you’ve been incredible. I’ll talk to you later.”
My phone beeped with the text message from Blake less than a minute after I ended the call. I tapped on the linked cell phone number in the message.
“Why do you want to talk to the wizard’s human?” Peasblossom asked, pausing with her piece of pencil lead hovering over a sea-green Post-it.
The man’s voice answered, cutting off my response. “Detective Briggs.”
“Hi, Detective Briggs? This is Shade Renard. I’m a private investigator working with the FBI. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about Jim Givens?”
“Oh, God, what has he done now?”
I blinked. “Um, nothing. I just—”
“Look, I’ll be taking my lunch break around noon. Can we meet then?”
I nodded, realized he couldn’t see me, then answered out loud. “Sounds good. Do you know Goodfellows?”
“I do, and I’m not meeting there. Not after last time. How about Bruno’s on West 41st?”
“I’ll find it.”
“See you then.”
He ended the call without further ado, and I sat there staring at my phone. “A man of few words. What do you think he meant ‘Not after last time?’”
Peasblossom shrugged. “Who cares? Let’s go, I’m hungry!”
Bruno’s wasn’t far, and I was going to be early, but I didn’t care. It was probably better if I got a soda in me before this meeting anyway. The shower had helped clear my head, but between how my day had started and how I knew it was going to end, I still wasn’t in a great place mentally.
To my pleasant surprise, it turned out Bruno’s was a nice Italian restaurant, small and conducive to conversation. I took a deep breath as soon as the doors closed behind me, inhaling the blessed scent of garlic and fresh bread. My mouth watered.
I ordered a soda and mozzarella sticks to tide me over, congratulating myself when Peasblossom agreed to eat some food before opening the honey packet the waitress brought me. We were both in a better mood by the time noon rolled around.
Right on cue, the restaurant doors opened. Even though I’d never seen Detective Briggs, I knew who he was as soon as he entered the restaurant. From my seat at the bar, I had a good view of the front door, and when the man in the rumpled suit marched in like a man on a mission, I guessed I was looking at Jim Givens’ partner. He looked to be in his forties, with hair just starting to grey at the temples. Said hair looked worse off than his suit, and I guessed he ran his hands through it a lot. Or else he didn’t comb it after he woke up in the morning.
I waved to him and he approached.
“Ms. Renard?” he asked.
“Yes. You must be Detective Briggs.”
He held out a hand, and I shook it. “Nice to meet you.” He took a seat next to me at the bar and waved at the bartender for a menu. “So what has Jim done now?”
“He hasn’t—”
David raised a hand. “No need to sugarcoat it. You know, for a man who doesn’t leave his house, that guy gets into more trouble than a thirteen-year-old with a credit card.” His face darkened. “And I know how much trouble a thirteen-year-old with a credit card can get into.”
“You have kids?” I guessed.
David nodded. “Three of ‘em. And if my daughter doesn’t grow out of this ‘you can’t tell me what to do my whole life’ phase soon, I’m going to start drinking.”
I groped for Peasblossom, hoping to stop her before she could keel over laughing. Now was not the time to tell the poor man that was not a phase.
David watched me patting my shoulder. He must be a good detective, because it didn’t take him long to spot Peasblossom. I could tell the second he saw her, because his posture stiffened, and he looked like he was weighing his option to flee.
“This is Peasblossom,” I said, grunting as the pixie kicked my knuckle when she tried to leap over my hand. “She’s my familiar, and she’s going to behave herself.”
“If you say so,” David said doubtfully. He hesitated. “She’s a pixie, isn’t she?”
“She is.”
I pretended not to notice when he scooted a little farther away. Peasblossom proved too difficult to catch, so I grabbed a breadstick and peeled off a part of the top layer—the part with all the garlic and salt. “What can you tell me about Jim?”
“Why do you want to know?” the detective asked.
I’d had a lot of time to think about my answer to that question. And in the end, being blunt seemed the way to go. “He’s a suspect. I want to cross his name off the list, but I need someone to vouch for him.”
David sighed and reached up to his hair, grabbing it in both fists and holding it as he dropped his elbows to the bar. “Figures. How does he do it? How? Can’t leave his house, but always ends up on the suspect list.”
“Well, in this case, it’s because he was the last one to touch an artifact before it was discovered to be a forgery.”
“Let me guess. He’s the one who declared it a forgery?”
“Yes.”
“And he’d examined it before and said it was real?”
“Yes.”
“Deja vu,” he muttered. He dropped his hands to the bar, then turned in his seat, squaring off so he could look directly into my eyes. “It is very difficult to get what I’d consider irrefutable proof when magic is involved,” he said seriously. “But I can tell you that I don’t believe Jim is the sort of man who would ever hurt an innocent.” He held out a hand. “Now I’m not saying he’s not a scary son of a bitch when he’s mad. I’ve seen him mad, and those images haunt my sleep. But every time I’ve seen him get angry, he’s had plenty of cause. And I’ve never lost sleep over anyone who’s earned a peek at that side of him.”
“That is not as comforting as you might think,” I said, half to myself.
David shrugged. “Wasn’t meant to be comforting. But it’s the truth. You have nothing to fear from Jim if you’re not a bad guy.”
He turned back to the soda the bartender had left for him, but I didn’t miss the way he watched me out of his peripheral vision. I suspected he’d learned more about me from my questions than I had about Jim. David was no slouch.
“Do you trust him?” I blurted out.
“With my life.”
Peasblossom snatched the piece of breadstick I was holding, but I hardly noticed. I leaned closer to David. “You’re human.”
He arched an eyebrow, pausing with his hand in his jacket pocket. “Yeah. You?”
“Witch,” I said absently. “But you trust him. A wizard. Implicitly. How long have you known him?”
“Two years.” He removed a small case from his pocket and flicked it open to retrieve a reusable folding metal straw. He caught me watching and sighed. “My daughter says plastic straws are the Devil.”
I smiled, but it was half-hearted. Two years David had known Jim and he trusted him with his life. “You never had a problem with him being Other?”
“Hell, yeah, I had a problem with it. When I met him, he was my number one suspect. I thought he killed a guy, and it wasn’t a neat death.” He lowered his voice. “And to be honest with you, learning magic is real was a mind-bender. Put me off my game for a long time.” He shrugged. “Didn’t take me long to see Jim was good people. He’s not only kind to his friends, he treats people in the service industry with respect.”
“What about his associate, the grey man?” I asked.
David’s face darkened instantly. He knew who I was talking about. “Bad news. Very bad news. But I’ve accept
ed that there’s nothing I can do about him. For some reason, he hangs around Jim, and he’s helpful more often than not. I think Jim’s tried to get rid of him, but he just disappears for awhile and comes back.”
I couldn’t help but think of Scath. That sounded familiar.
David’s cell phone rang, and he cursed. “Dammit, I’m on lunch!”
“I have to go anyway,” I said, already sliding out of my seat. I left money on the bar for my soda and the mozzarella sticks. “Thank you for talking to me.”
David waved at me, but he was already barking into his cell phone.
“We’re going to Jim’s, aren’t we?” Peasblossom said around a mouthful of bread.
“Yes. I need to ask him about the artifacts.”
“What else do you need to know?” Peasblossom asked.
“How they work. I’ve been focusing on the identity of the thief, but what about the person giving the power? Could they be tricked into doing it, or is intent part of the magic? Without intent does nothing happen, or does the magic go wrong?”
Peasblossom considered that, then promptly lost interest when she noticed a honey packet that had fallen between the seats. And got herself stuck. We spent the rest of the trip enjoying a game of “try to fish the shrieking pixie out of the gap without taking your eyes off the road or causing an accident.”
I was white-knuckled by the time I pulled into Jim’s empty driveway. I gave the house an uneasy once-over. Now that I knew that Jim was agoraphobic, I knew this was where he’d held me prisoner in that circle. It gave the place a new, ominous ambiance. How many other hidden rooms were in there?
The bushes near the front door moved, and my heart froze in my chest. A second later, Scath peered out at me from between the limbs, black fur ruffled and her green eyes lighter in the sunlight falling over the lawn. I stared at her as she nudged her way out of the foliage and came to stand beside me. My mind flicked to yesterday morning, and all the mornings before that. She hadn’t been with me last night. But experience said there’d been nightmares. And this time, she’d been alone.
Betrayal Page 24
