“What’s so funny?” he said.
“Oh, nothing. Life’s ironic, that’s all.”
“Nice that my troubles amuse you,” he sulked.
“I didn’t mean it like that… I just meant that you and Talia have only known each other a few months. Most people date for a long time before they get engaged, and then they’re engaged for a long time before they get married. Not you two. From a lifetime of drinking and partying to marriage and retirement, practically overnight.”
“Aye,” he said, smiling faintly. “It happened that fast. We just knew. You know what I mean?”
“I think so,” I said. “I’m still trying to figure out the whole Dwana thing, though.”
“You and me both.”
“They say it works that way sometimes, that some women are attracted to men that they can’t have. I never realized you had so many admirers until you got engaged.”
“Me either,” he said glumly.
“You know Butch, something interesting just occurred to me. What was that girl’s name, the girl at the party?”
He frowned. “Girl?”
“Yeah, the dancing girl. The one you went to school with?”
Butch’s eyes went wide. “Kinya Fairweather,” he said. “I’d almost forgotten about her.”
“Me too. She didn’t seem very happy for you. About the wedding, I mean.”
“Now that you mention it, she didn’t,” he said. “She asked me out on a date after you left, but I turned her down.”
“Really? Right there at the party?”
“Yep. The night before my wedding.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
He gave me a sheepish look. “It’s a bit embarrassing,” he said. “I figured it was best to keep it quiet. Not start any rumors, ya know?”
I digested that slowly. “How close were you to this girl? I mean before?”
“Close? Not at all. We dated a few times in school but that was twenty years ago. I haven’t seen her since. You think she might have something to do with Talia’s curse?”
“She was all over you that night, Butch. She asked you out. She’s got motive. At least as much as Dwana had.”
He pondered that, staring into his coffee cup. “You got a point,” he said quietly. He slowly raised his eyes to meet mine. “You think it was her?”
I glanced at the clock. “It’s early. I don’t know if she’d be at work yet, but we could give it a shot.”
Butch slammed his cup down on the table and hopped up on his crutches. “What’re you waiting for?” he said. “Let’s go!”
We headed topside to grab my Blazer, and then drove to The Lounge. It was a long drive. There were multiple accidents downtown and it took almost two hours to drive less than twenty miles. It was two o’clock in the afternoon when we finally arrived. We found the place locked up, and the sign on the door said they didn’t open until four.
Butch and I made a few phone calls, trying to track down the owner, to no avail. We spent the next two hours walking around town, killing time. It was the most nerve-wracking two hours of Butch’s life. He looked even more miserable than he had at his wedding.
We finally returned to The Lounge at four and entered the bar downstairs. The place was already getting busy. The bar was half-full and a steady stream of customers were taking the elevators up to private parties. Butch and I were halfway to the elevator when I realized we had a problem. I stopped and watched a group enter the elevator. The doors slid shut behind them.
“What’s the matter?” Butch said. “Don’t stop now Boss, we’re so close!”
“The casino is on a private floor, Butch. We can’t get in without a special invitation.”
“Let’s just go,” he urged. “Nobody’ll notice.”
“Yeah they will,” I said. “If the casino’s open that means it’s a private party. Let’s just find the manager and explain everything. I’m sure he’ll let us talk with Kinya.”
Butch sighed heavily. He clearly thought it was better to act first and ask permission later. We asked the bartender for a manager and what we got was a pale, skinny kindred man who looked and dressed like an old-fashioned vampire, cape and all. He could have played Count Dracula in any of those old black and white movies, and done so convincingly. I could tell just by looking at him that he was kindred, though. I can sense fae blood a mile away.
“Gentlemen, I cannot allow you upstairs without an invitation,” he said apologetically. “Even you, Steward. Discretion is an important aspect of this business, as you well know.”
I eyed him up and down, taking it all in: the satin-lined cape, the stylish old-fashioned tuxedo, and the slicked back hair. It made for quite an impression. I watched his lips move, half-expecting to see a pair of fangs gleaming behind them. “Look, we don’t actually need to go up there,” I said. “We just need to talk to an employee of yours, Kinya Fairweather.”
He frowned, pinching his jaw. “Kinya,” he murmured. “Why is that name not familiar?”
“Maybe she’s new,” I said. “She’s a kindred girl, a half-elf. Dark hair, dark eyes. Not bad looking.”
He considered that, his eyes searching the ceiling. “No, that name is not familiar. I’m sure I would know her. I remember everyone’s names. I sign the paychecks, you know.”
I watched him carefully, looking for clues that he was lying. I didn’t see any, but that didn’t necessarily exclude the possibility. Some people are good liars by nature. “You’re sure about that?” I said.
“Quite,” he said firmly. “This person does not work for us.”
I gave Butch an exasperated look. We were both thinking the same thing. The guy had to be lying to us. We’d just seen her there two days earlier. “We’re going to need to look around,” I said, stepping towards the elevator.
“I think not!” he said. “It’s time for you to leave, gentlemen. You won’t get another warning!”
I ignored him, stepping into the elevator. Butch jumped in next to me, a look of worry on his face. We watched the manager pull out a wireless radio as the doors closed in front of us, and the elevator started to rise.
“What do you think he’ll do?” Butch said.
I snorted. “He’ll throw us out, if we let him.”
“Let him? You think we can stop him?”
“Probably not. He’ll have men waiting for us upstairs. As soon as these doors open, start looking for Kinya. I’ll do my best to distract the guards.”
Butch’s face wrinkled up. “You know I’m on crutches here, Boss.”
“I know, that’s why I’m the one doing the fighting.”
The elevator doors slid open and a squad of security goons appeared in front of us. They surrounded me as I leapt out with both fists swinging. Butch hovered in the corner of the elevator, trying to stay out of sight.
I didn’t have time to count the guards but I’d guess there were close to ten. At least half of the bunch were hobgoblins, but I also noted a few stocky, mean-looking dwarves in the group. They all had one thing on their minds: stomping me into the ground.
I let out a roar as I charged them, more for effect than anything else. If Butch was going to get around them, I’d have to have their undivided attention. I saw to it by dropping the biggest guy in the group first. I feinted a left hook and then sucker-punched him with an uppercut to the jaw. The others tried to tackle me as he staggered back, but I rolled them off and pressed forward.
The hobgoblin shook off his confusion and came back at me with a wide right hook. I blocked it and caught him by the arm. I could’ve punched him again, but I had something more spectacular in mind. I gave him a hard push, throwing him off balance. He staggered back a few steps and then regained his balance, just as I tackled him. We went down in a heap, crashing through a roulette table like it was made of popsicle sticks. We instantly reduced the thing to kindling.
In an instant, the rest of them were on me, kicking and punching, pounding on me with nightsticks and b
rass knuckles. I kept my wits about me. Instead of going wild and thrashing around like a maniac, I focused my attention on each one of them, one at a time. The nearest guard was a hefty dwarf with a pair of brass knuckles. He gave me a ringing blow to the forehead. My senses reeled, but I managed to reach out and lock his throat in a death grip. His eyes bugged with panic as he tried to pull free. Then his eyelids slid shut and he went limp, dropping on the floor next to me.
I felt a boot drive into my ribs almost hard enough to knock the wind out of me. If I’d been human, my ribs would have been broken. Fortunately, my ribs are as thick as an average man’s arms. The blow bounced off painfully, and I winced. I rolled over, reaching out for the offending appendage. I found a size fourteen steel-toed boot, and I latched on. My fingers worked their way up past the leather and found bare skin. I gripped his ankle, holding on for dear life. The hobgoblin that the shin belonged to didn’t approve of my groping. He bent forward and laid into me with a solid punch to the jaw. I clenched my teeth and swallowed the pain. He didn’t have enough time to get a second swing. He hit the floor with a thud.
Butch huddled in the corner of the elevator as I charged the guards. He was smart enough to see his opportunity when it came. As I crashed through the roulette table, Butch quietly slipped out of the elevator and skirted around the crowd, hobbling toward the stage where the girls were dancing. He stood there for a few seconds, ignoring the chaos around him as he searched the girl’s faces. Not seeing Kinya among them, he approached the stage.
One of the girls came close, thinking Butch was offering a tip. She bent low, smiling wickedly. “Hey, handsome.”
“Eh, hey,” he said. “Can you tell me where to find Kinya?”
“Kinya?” she said.
“Yeah, the girl who was here the other night. For my bachelor party.”
The girl’s face brightened. “I thought I recognized you. You’re that cute dwarf who’s getting married… say, shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?”
“Things didn’t exactly work out,” he said awkwardly. “Anyway, do you remember her? Half-elf, dark hair… she was talking to me for quite a while.”
“Oh, that girl!” she said, frowning. “You know, there was something strange about her.”
“Really? What’s that?”
“Well, she was dressed like us, for one thing.”
“That’s because she works here,” Butch said.
“No she doesn’t. In fact, I thought she may have been a new hire, but when I asked the other girls, nobody knew her. It seemed a little strange. We thought maybe she was someone you had hired for the party.”
Butch grimaced. “You’re saying she doesn’t work here?”
“Uh, that is what I just said, isn’t it?”
Just then, a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder. Butch raised his eyes to see a big, mean-looking hobgoblin staring down at him. “Time to go,” the guard said in a gravely voice. “Come along quiet. I don’t wanna have to break your other leg.”
Butch glanced across the room and saw the rest of the guards hauling me into the stairwell like a piece of lumber. He sighed. “All right, I’m coming.”
Butch and I had plenty of time to catch up in the alley behind The Lounge. I laid there for a good ten minutes, waiting for the pain to subside. When I could crawl to my feet, I settled down on an old wooden crate. I winced as I leaned back up against the wall.
“You all right, Boss?” Butch said.
“Fine,” I grunted painfully. I wanted to say something clever but it hurt too much. A sliver of light cut across the alley as the back door opened. A waitress slipped out and walked up to us, carrying a bag of ice.
“Steward, I brought this for you,” she said, offering me the bag. I thanked her. I made a quick study of the pain, wondering where I should put it, and decided my forehead would be a good place to start.
“You don’t look so good, Boss,” Butch said. “Maybe we should get you to a hospital.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, taking a deep breath. I turned my head to offer the waitress a weak smile. “Thanks.” She smiled nervously and then disappeared back inside.
“So what’d you find out?” I said after she was gone. “Please tell me I didn’t take this beating for nothing.”
Butch grimaced. “Well, not for nothin’. It ain’t exactly good news, though.”
He proceeded to repeat the entire conversation with the dancing girl back to me, describing it all in detail. When he was done, I didn’t really have much to say.
“You all right, Boss?”
“Yeah, I’m just getting used to something.”
“What’s that?”
“The fact that the manager was telling us the truth all along.”
“Aye, you got a point. But we know for sure now. That’s somethin’ ain’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s something all right.” I pushed myself up, groaning, and started hobbling towards the street.
“Where you going?” Butch called out behind me.
“Back to the office. We’ve got work to do. Do you want to get to the bottom of this thing or not?”
“Of course I do!” he said, hurrying to catch up with me. “Do you have a plan? Did you figure it out?”
I didn’t respond. It took all of my focus just to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
We made quite a pair, Butch hobbling down the street on his crutches, me staggering alongside bruised and bloodied, the icepack jammed up against my head. In the condition we were in, a ninety-year old woman could have mugged us. I would have given her my wallet without a second’s hesitation, as long as she promised not to hurt me.
When we got back to the jailhouse, I put Butch to work on the internet, trying to get a line on Kinya Fairweather. While he did that, I pulled out my old phone book and started searching the old-fashioned way. Between the two of us, it didn’t take long to track her down. Kinya had been living in the human world. That made it easy to find her. In fact, she had an apartment just across town. Kinya had even been helpful enough to post her address on a popular social networking site.
Butch and I didn’t bother trying to call her; we wanted to catch her by surprise. It’s easiest to drag a confession out of people when they’re off kilter. That’s why cops like to interrogate suspects in cold dark rooms for hours at a time. It wears them down, makes them doubt what they know or what they think they know. I was hoping that showing up unannounced at Kinya’s place would have the same effect on her.
Kinya lived in an old apartment complex in the Upper Market neighborhood. The place was a little run down on the outside, but nice enough once we got through the gates. The front door was open, so we let ourselves into the building and climbed the stairs to the tenth floor. It took a while with Butch on crutches. He was breathing hard and sweating when we finally made it. I’d tried to convince him to wait for me downstairs, but he wouldn’t hear of it.
I could sense Butch’s nervousness as we approached her door. He leaned close and whispered, “Should I cover the fire escape boss? We wouldn’t want her gettin’ away.”
I looked him up and down, and stared at the giant cast on his leg. “And how exactly would you plan on catching her?” I said cynically.
His face fell. “Just a suggestion,” he murmured.
I continued down the hall, stopping in front of room 1024. I heard a woman’s muffled voice in the room beyond, and I gestured for Butch to listen. He put his ear close to the door. “That’s her!” he whispered. I knocked on the door.
A few moments passed. The voice continued unabated. I knocked again. I was starting to wonder if Butch had been mistaken. Perhaps what we were hearing was a television or a stereo. Then the door opened and Kinya Fairweather appeared in front of us wearing nothing but a bathrobe. She had her hair done up and a towel hanging over her shoulder. She had a phone to her ear and she was babbling away even as she opened the door. Until she saw us. Then she stopped midsentence and stood there with her jaw ha
nging open. I noticed a bandage on her right hand, as if she’d accidently cut herself.
“Kinya, can we come in?” I said politely.
“I, uh… it’s…” she stammered. Then, into the phone: “Mom, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you back.” She hung up, staring at us.
“Can we come in?” I said again. “I don’t think you want all your neighbors to hear this.”
She sighed. Her shoulders drooped as she stood to the side. “Fine,” she said. “Might as well make yourselves comfortable.”
We walked past the kitchen and into her cozy little living room. “Can I get you something to drink?” she said.
“No, thanks,” I said. “You know why we’re here.”
She slumped into an easy chair. “How did you know it was me?”
“We followed the breadcrumbs,” I said in a cynical voice. “Disguising yourself as an employee at The Lounge wasn’t a very good idea. You should have known they’d remember you.”
She glanced back and forth between the two of us, and then her gaze settled on Butch. “I’m sorry, Butch,” she said. “It was nothing personal.”
“It seemed personal enough at the time,” I said.
“It was just a job.”
“A job?” said Butch. “What are you talking about? Somebody paid you to do this to me? To Talia?”
She stared at the floor, unable to look him in the face. “Look, it’s tough being unemployed. I didn’t want to do it, but I figured what’s the harm? It’s just a little baiting the hook, that’s all. If you fell for it, then maybe it wasn’t meant to be anyway, right?”
“That’s what it was then?” I said. “Someone paid you to seduce Butch?”
She nodded, pouting. “Like I said, it was nothing personal. I needed the money, that’s all.”
“What about the spell?” I said. “Was that just part of the deal or did you throw it in as extra?”
She narrowed her eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” I said threateningly. “Butch’s fiancé is lying in a coma right now because of you, and I’m getting real tired of playing games.”
Death in the Hallows (Hank Mossberg, Private Ogre Book 2) Page 18
