“How much do you know about your new employee?” Grumpy asked with an evil smirk, a grin that suited him well. The bastard just oozed malice. A shiver of electricity sparked inside me at his warning. Izzy wasn’t out to get me. At least I thought she wasn’t. Then again, last year I’d thought the same thing and had nearly died because of it.
Not liking where this conversation or my mind was going, I growled, “Get to the point.”
“Boyer & Davis,” he said with relish, “has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” No fucking way. After all we built together, Izzy wasn’t going to suddenly toss me out. My expression must’ve betrayed my thoughts, because Grumpy’s smile widened. “A guy like you must be careful around electricity.”
Now I knew Grumpy was full of shit. Izzy had nothing to do with either James’s murder or my attempted one as he was implying. I didn’t know who exactly wanted me dead quite yet, but the list of suspects, though fairly long, didn’t include anyone with pink wings. I started to say as much, but the geezer cut me off. “Mark my words.”
With those dire words in the air between us, he motioned for another drink. I let out a sigh of relief. Grumpy was an angry drunkard and nothing more. The Fairy Council hadn’t sent him here to hurt Izzy, at least not physically. As for his warning about Izzy and Clark, it was complete bollocks. I hopped off the stool, giving Grumpy a pat on the shoulder with my gloved hand. “Enjoy the party,” I said, unable to help myself.
He snorted. “Thank you, I will.” He paused, his watery eyes blazing. “And you be sure to give James my best when you see him again.”
CHAPTER 20
James’s charred corpse flickered through my vision and my stomach clenched, sending a wave of alcohol-infused bile up the back of my throat. Had Grumpy just threatened me? Again? Trying to control my own anger before I did something rash, like electrocute the head of the Fairy Council in front of a couple of hundred witnesses including the chief of the New Never City Police, I walked slowly away from the bitter council member. I could feel his evil stare on my back.
Maybe Grumpy wasn’t as harmless as I’d thought.
“He’s a very dangerous dwarf,” Right said.
I gave a small jump when he spoke, unaware that he and his bookend partner had been following me. “Damn it. I could’ve fried you. Next time give me a little warning.”
One of his eyebrows rose. “We’ve been ten steps behind you all night.”
In my defense, I’d been a wee bit distracted by the curves of Izzy’s dress and my own growing sense of impending doom. “Well, knock it off. Izzy’s the one in danger tonight. If anything happens to her, I’m kicking both your asses.” And with that warning, I headed back to the ballroom where Clayton held court. I watched as he made the rounds, shaking hands and smiling with all thirty-four of his teeth (he’d had two implanted right after the primaries). “Give the fairies what they want” was his motto.
Which made me wonder, was one of those things me roasting on a spit? After all, the fairies would’ve liked nothing more than to see me dead. Had Clayton gone as far as attempting my murder to win the election? I shook my head at the thought, feeling more and more like the famed, paranoid recluse Humpty Hughes without the germ phobia or the bankroll.
A husky, drawn-out laugh caught my attention. I turned to the delightful sound, feeling instantly better. Izzy stood surrounded by winged and nonwinged dignitaries, a smile on her lips. She let out another chuckle at something Clark said. In a flash, whatever pleasure I’d felt from Izzy’s laughter withered. Apparently, on top of being a social media guru, Clark was a fucking comedian to boot.
My lips curved into a deep frown all but guaranteed to leave me looking worse than Grumpy in ten years. A small hand pulled on the sleeve of my jacket. I glared down at the offending limb, then remembered my promise to Izzy to try to be nice. I turned my frown halfway upside down, the best I could do at the moment, leaving my lips a flat line.
“Blue,” Peyton said, pulling at my sleeve again, this time with much greater force.
“What?” I snapped.
He dropped my sleeve, stepping back. “I’m . . . ah . . . glad you’re here.”
At least someone was.
Personally I would rather be at a dark bar drowning in a barrel of aged whiskey. My gaze again fell upon Izzy. This time Clark had his hand wrapped around her like Velcro. Make that two barrels. My frown returned. Peyton must’ve sensed my displeasure, for he looked around until his eyes lit on Izzy and Clark. “They make a cute couple.” He beamed with pride and pleasure. “Don’t you think?”
“What the fuck do you want, Peyton?”
His head moved back and forth as he made tsking sounds. “No need to be like that. Clark’s a good man. The Boyers are old money. Very old. Very rich. So no need to worry that he’s some gold digger trying to get his hooks into Isabella. You can relax.”
“Excuse me?”
“We know how you feel. But you don’t need to be so protective of Izzy anymore.” He nodded to the pink wings in question. “Clark can take care of her, and you can get on with your life.” His grin grew as Clark leaned down to whisper in her ear.
I bit my tongue, drawing blood.
“Clayton and I knew they’d hit it off the moment we met Clark.”
And why not? Clark didn’t have electrical issues. He was rich and good-looking, the perfect fucking catch for Izzy. Except I had my doubts Izzy was looking to be caught in anyone’s net. She was much more likely to be the one setting a trap. I just hoped it wasn’t the one Grumpy had insinuated.
Peyton was saying, “I’d be surprised if Izzy isn’t married and pregnant by this time next year.”
My blood pressure rose at the thought of Clark’s baby in Izzy’s wings. Electricity crackled inside me, escaping from my ungloved hand. Peyton yelped as he danced from the errant bolt. “Hey—” he complained.
I winced. “Sorry.”
“What’s going on with you?” His eyes narrowed, his head swiveling to the right and then the left as if someone might jump out at any moment. “Is it the case?”
“Case?”
“Our case.” He frowned. “The missing—”
I slapped my hand, the one with the glove, over his mouth. “We’re keeping the case on the DL, remember?”
He nodded and I moved my hand away. “Have you learned anything?”
“I have a few leads.” All of which were crap. I was no closer to solving the missing-fairy case than I was to finding James’s killer or walking on the moon. But I wasn’t about to share my failures with Peyton. For one thing, he’d revel in them. While he wanted me to find out what had happened to the fairies, he sure as hell wouldn’t shed a tear if I failed and/or ended up a broken pile of blue-haired goo. Neither of those options appealed to me. I would solve both cases or die trying, which didn’t appeal very much to me either.
“Maybe Clark can help—” The electrical shock I shot at him this time wasn’t an accident. His eyes rolled like pinwheels for a brief moment as the bolt jolted through him and then returned to their normal state. “Or not,” he finished in a high-pitched squeak. “Now that I think about it, it’s probably best if we keep it to ourselves.”
“You’re probably right.”
A fork dinged against a crystal glass, signaling the stump speeches were about to begin. Shoot me now, I thought, and then Izzy giggled at Clark again. And I thought, Nope, shoot him. Please.
CHAPTER 21
Much to my dismay, Izzy and I were seated at the head table next to Clayton and Peyton. The twins had also asked Clark to sit at our table, on Izzy’s other side. The salad course arrived and Clark made a joke about accidently biting Clayton’s emerald-colored wing. The entire table laughed, with one exception. Yours bluely. I wasn’t sure I could make it through the entrée before frying the VP. I took a deep breath, digging into my wilted salad before I acted on the impulse.
Halfway through the dinner, Izzy squeezed my leg under the table as if she recogniz
ed Clark’s peril. She leaned in, whispering, “Thank you, Blue.”
I glanced up from my plate, my forehead wrinkled in question. “For what?”
She motioned around the crowded ballroom. “For putting up with all of this.”
“Come on,” I said with a quick grin, “I’m having the time of my life.”
Her eyes flashed with mirth. “I can tell.”
“How so?”
She jabbed the thrice-electrocuted piece of now blackened chicken on my plate. “A woman always knows.”
“Is that so?”
She grinned. “And you’ve been vibrating like crazy for the last twenty minutes.”
I took a calming breath. “Sorry.”
“Is something bothering you besides the fire in your office?”
Hell, the fire had been the last thing on my mind. Too many other things took precedence, namely, keeping Izzy safe while finding out who killed my intern. I wanted to talk to Izzy about the murder and Grumpy’s warning. “Izzy, we need to—”
“And now for the fairy of the hour . . .” The crowd quieted. “Please welcome the next Tooth Fairy ... Clayton Gibbs.” Applause filled the ballroom, drowning out my words. Izzy leaned in closer, but I waved her off with a “later” gesture. She nodded and gave me a small yet concerned smile.
Clayton puffed out his tiny chest as he took the stage. I had to admit, he looked very toothy in his tuxedo, dyed wings, and dust-infused swagger. Hell, if I didn’t know him so well I might’ve even voted for him. Good thing I didn’t have wings. No wings, no vote, which I was cool with.
“Thank you all for being here,” he began, “And for your support. We all know the difficult times we face . . .”
I grinned. Half those difficult times were a direct result of Clayton’s actions.
“I want you to know that I understand . . .”
I tuned out, watching the expressions of those in the crowd. Most of the winged ones were hanging on his every word, their eyes alight with promise. Those without wings listened too, but with less enthusiasm and more self-interest. Sadly, not everyone fell into that category. Clark, it seemed, only had eyes for Izzy. It was creepy. Every time I glanced over at the guy, he was looking our way, eyes burning with desire. I glared at him until he snapped out of it. He responded with a guilty smile.
“Crime is up . . . ,” Clayton was saying.
I rolled my eyes; pretty damn sure the crime rate, like those difficulties he’d referred to earlier, was, at least partially, the twins’ fault. Hell, I’d committed more than one crime while in their company and their employ. That was in the past, though—the not-too-distant one, but history nonetheless. My focus returned to Clayton’s speech.
“But I have a plan.” He paused, his gaze falling on Izzy’s face. A shiver of dread curled up my spine. “Our beloved Isabella Davis’s company, Davis Securities, has been hired to solve the crime of the century.”
Davis Securities? What the hell? Clayton had just cut me out of my own company. I blew out a harsh breath. I knew why he’d done it. The fairies hated me with a fiery passion, but they adored Izzy. Therefore, Reynolds & Davis became strictly Davis. I glanced over at Izzy to see how she’d responded, but all I saw was shock and rage in her indigo eyes.
I frowned. “What?”
“You took the case without consulting me?” she hissed under her breath. “How could you?” At this point I wasn’t sure what case she was talking about. After all, I’d taken any number of cases without a powwow. Then Clayton’s speech finally penetrated my brain.
“The missing fairies are Davis Securities’ and my own top propriety.” Clayton paused while the crowd applauded. “We will find the person or persons responsible and make them pay. You have my word on it.”
The little bastards had set me up. They couldn’t care less about a gaggle of missing fairies; they only wanted to seem like they gave a shit. With Izzy on the case, Clayton was all but guaranteed to win the election. “Izzy,” I began, but it was too late.
My pink-winged fairy had left the ball.
Not a glass slipper left in sight.
CHAPTER 22
After dinner I searched everywhere for Izzy, but she’d vanished, as had Clark Boyer. That bit of information gnawed its way into my brain, making rational thought impossible. Izzy was a grown woman, I reminded myself again and again. Free to do what and whom she pleased, generally with the exception of our employees. I wrapped myself in self-righteous rage instead of the vague sense of guilt I felt in not telling Izzy about the missing-fairies case.
Lucky for me, anger was my go-to emotion. I often thrived on rage, the kind that burned just below the surface. The nuns claimed my temper and subsequent electrical conductivity were a direct result of having been abandoned as a baby.
I knew better.
I was born a monster.
My mind flashed to Izzy lying naked in Clark’s stupid arms as energy crackled through me in electrified waves. How dare she sleep with him? He could sue us for sexual harassment, and then where would we be? Bad enough James had died in the line of duty; now we had to worry about opening ourselves up to Clark’s greed.
My anger followed me all the way back to my apartment. I vowed to have it out with Izzy. She would probably break down, begging my forgiveness and firing Clark instantly. I smiled at my deluded fantasy as I unlocked my front door.
As soon as I took my first step inside, a ruby slipper came flying my way. It barely missed my head, smashing into the door behind me with a muffled thud. “Whoa,” I yelled, holding up my hands. “What the hell, Izzy?”
“Are you kidding me?” My partner in crime solving let the second slipper fly. My catlike reflexes saved me from a nasty lump as I ducked out of the projectile’s way just in time. “Do you have any idea how pissed I am at you?”
From the flying slippers and the heaving of her barely contained breasts, I had a pretty fair idea. “So I took a case.” I shook my head, going on the defensive. “What’s the big deal? We are investigators. Investigating cases is sort of what we do. I’ve taken plenty of cases without a lengthy discussion. What makes this one any different?”
My reasoning didn’t cool her rage one bit. In fact, it seemed to enrage her even more. Her eyes flashed with blue flames. “You purposely kept this case a secret from me. A fairy case from your fairy partner.” Her shoulders slumped. “I thought we were past this. Past keeping secrets and lying to each other.”
Guilt pooled in my gut along with the rubbery overcooked chicken from dinner. I swallowed, pushing both further down. “Izzy. I didn’t mean to—”
“Lie to me?” She snorted. “Or you didn’t mean for me to find out?”
“The second one,” I admitted. “I didn’t want you involved.”
She took a step toward me. “So you were protecting me?”
The soft way she asked the question was all the warning I needed. “Hell no. You are more than capable of protecting yourself. I was . . . um . . .”
“What you are is an idiot.”
I ignored her insult, preparing myself to ask the question that had been burning in my mind. The one Grumpy had instilled and later Clayton and his Davis Securities comment had cemented. Did Izzy want me out? As much as I wanted that answer, my tongue had other plans. “What’s with you and Clark?”
“What?”
“Are you dating him?” This time I wanted to bite off my treacherous tongue. What was wrong with me? What she did after hours was none of my business. I felt like a stupid schoolboy with a secret, obsessive crush on the head cheerleader. A cheerleader with wings and a hell of a right hook, I reminded myself, stepping out of striking distance.
She crossed her arms over her chest, a clear indication she was about to let me have it. “You’re kidding, right? Less than six hours ago I walked in on you and your little friend Bo Peep, and I didn’t say a fucking word about how incredibly stupid you are for getting involved with the likes of her. And now you have the audacity to ask me ab
out Clark?”
While she had a point, I wasn’t quite willing to let it go, which only proved her assessment of my intelligence all the more. “Nothing happened with Bo. I thought she had—”
“Oh,” she said. “I know exactly what you thought she had for you.”
“Hey,” I complained.
She waved me off. “If we’re going to stay partners, we need complete and total honesty between us.”
I nodded slowly, wondering just where she planned to go with this.
Her eyebrows rose. “Well?”
“Well what?”
She rolled her indigo-colored irises. “Tell me about the case.”
“No.”
“What?” Her screech nearly knocked her off her bare feet.
I moved around her, keeping at least three feet of distance between us. I picked up a bottle of whiskey from the coffee table, pouring a shot into a glass tumbler. I waved it her way. She shook her head, her face growing redder by the second. “We do need to talk, but not about the missing-fairy case,” I said quietly.
Her expression turned from annoyed to suspicious. “About what, then? If you say Clark, I’m leaving right now.”
“I’m not talking about Clark.” Not exactly. I swallowed my whiskey in one gulp, letting the burn of it ease the taste of my next words. My eyes met hers, and Grumpy’s warning flickered through my mind again. “Do you have something to tell me, Izzy?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Seconds passed in silence.
Finally she slowly turned her back to me. “How’d you find out?”
“It’s kind of what I do.” For better or worse. Her reaction to the question told me everything I needed to know. Grumpy wasn’t lying. She planned to oust me from my own company. Anger swept through me, sending a current of electricity so strong up my spine that my hair stood on end. “Is it true? Are you—”
“Yes,” she said sharply. “But you weren’t supposed to find out.”
I laughed without humor. “You are in cahoots with Clark to take over my co—”
The Lady in Pink - Deadly Ever After 2 Page 8
