Diamond In The Rough (Moonlight Detective Agency Book 2)

by Isobella Crowley

  She stopped now to look the vampire directly in the eyes.

  “We care far less about the Black Cat itself than we do about Ein Avdat. And at this point, I’d say the first step in unraveling their plot is to catch the individual who assaulted your man, Remington.”

  “Yes,” Taylor conceded. She drummed her nails on the desk, aware that her visitor had now abandoned her notion that the Times Square attacker was none other than herself. “It’s interesting that you mention superstition with all these strange rumors surrounding the incidents.”

  “True,” Gilmore conceded. “Some of the aforementioned gossipers in the street believe we’re dealing with…non-human entities. Supernatural creatures. I think it goes without saying that we don’t even need to consider that.”

  Again, the woman was not lying, unless she was exceedingly good at it, and Taylor didn’t think she was.

  “No,” the agent went on, “our theory is that Ein Avdat has obtained something like new, experimental steroids from the Israeli Defense Forces or Mossad. They’ve committed a couple of burglaries that the Israeli authorities have been suspiciously vague about, so it could be that they found a secret weapons stash. Worse, they might have compromised someone within the government or military. We’re trying to work with the CIA and State Department on this, but it’s tough going. In any event, we know there’s a scientific explanation.”

  “Oh,” she agreed with a smile, “of course.”

  A short pause followed as the agent moved her gaze strategically aside and pretended to casually examine the room before she spoke again.

  “And, Ms Steele, I have done my homework on you and your agency.” She brought her gaze to Taylor’s face again. “It seems that some similar rumors have occasionally popped up in reference to your…abilities.”

  The vampire maintained her pleasant expression but allowed it to cool somewhat. “We pride ourselves on our competence.”

  “I did not,” Gilmore continued, “put much faith in those mutterings. They seemed grossly exaggerated—the same type of superstitious drivel we try not to buy into. About things you’ve accomplished that were…impossible.”

  She shrugged. “My women’s studies professor said people would exaggerate due to fear of strong women. Meanwhile, my physics professor said people would exaggerate out of imaginative boredom because reality isn’t good enough for them. I don’t claim to know why it’s so difficult to get the truth out of people. But I do know that my own view of what is possible has been broadened by this case.”

  Remy’s voice snorted in her ear. “Am I the only one who actually believed you were a vampire?”

  Still looking at the agent, Taylor only nodded.

  With a slight narrowing of the eyes, Gilmore said, “You may keep some of your secrets, Ms Steele. But, going forward, don’t let them damage our working relationship.”

  “Agreed.”

  The agent breathed deep, looked around, and flexed her hands in a way that suggested she was about to end the interview. “Well…” She stood smoothly. “I’ll take my leave. We’ll remain in touch, though.”

  Taylor stood also and extended her hand. Gilmore shook it. Her gaze wandered to a framed picture of Taylor and Remy standing beside one another. His hand rested on her shoulder. She’d had Presley take that one mostly as PR for the agency.

  The agent looked at her. “If I may ask, how long have you and Remington been a couple?”

  Over her earpiece, Taylor immediately heard two voices exclaim, “What?”

  “Not long,” she explained. “A couple of months. It grew out of our professional relationship.”

  Riley’s tiny voice raged in her ear. “That’s bullshit! Remy, you are not with her. Are you? I’ll fly out there and levitate a desk unless you set the record straight.”

  Taylor summoned all her powers of self-control to keep a straight face as her visitor nodded and turned toward the door. She accompanied her, opened it, and escorted her to the lobby.

  Remington, meanwhile, attempted to keep the fairy under control and his voice came through her earbud in a hurried jumble of words. “She only said that to fool the FBI chick, okay? Play along, Riley, and I promise I’ll take you out on a date ASAP. Please? Be cool here. I swear—”

  The three male agents had formed a circle around Bobby, who prattled away about paleo foods and soaked up their rapt, almost hypnotic attention. The vampire decided Remy had been right to hire her.

  “Hey,” Gilmore snapped at them. “It’s time to go. I hope you enjoyed your little audience with Ms Diaz, but we have work to do.”

  All their faces fell in disappointment.

  Off to the side, a door opened and Taylor was suddenly worried that Riley was about to carry out her threat. She would have to go through the bothersome and risky process of mindwiping all four of the Feds if the fairy did perform a magic trick right now.

  Fortunately, it was Remington.

  “Oh, hi,” he stammered as though he’d had no idea that Gilmore’s team were even there. “You’ve probably heard of me. I’m the guy who was beaten up in Times Square. Are you only leaving now?”

  He glanced at Taylor in an oddly emotional way which, she realized, would probably confirm Gilmore’s suspicions that they were romantically involved.

  The agent turned toward him. “David Remington, also known as Remington Davis. Nice to meet you. I’m Senior Special Agent Kendra Gilmore. Yes, we’re about to leave. So far, we’ve gotten enough information from the police and various other eyewitnesses, but don’t be alarmed if we do end up interviewing you at length in the near future.”

  Remy nodded dumbly.

  The agent’s demeanor warmed. “Don’t worry, though. We’ll catch the man who attacked you. This whole business will be resolved soon.”

  With that, she turned and left, practically dragging her men with her as they waved mournful goodbyes to Bobby.

  Taylor glanced at the security monitors and watched the four agents pile into their car along with the man they’d left outside. They seemed to confer for a moment before driving away.

  She looked at Remington.

  He was stewing. Something Gilmore had said rankled with him. It might have been the presumption of romance between them, but she worried it was something else.

  “David,” she began, “you don’t plan to do anything stupid and ill-advised, do you? Nothing of the kind I warned you not to do, such as pursuing that guy yourself?”

  Remy smiled and adjusted his tie. “Not at all. The only stupid thing I’ll do is take the fairy out on a date, as promised.”

  “Hey!” Riley protested from somewhere in the office.

  Chapter Fourteen

  New York Botanical Garden, The Bronx, New York

  Outside the visitor center, Remy stood with his hands thrust deep into his pockets. His head moved to take in the sights between bouts of pacing along the paved walk.

  “It never fails,” he whispered and hoped the two girls who passed on his left wouldn’t overhear him. “Almost literally every single date I’ve been on, she’s been late. Regardless of who she is.” Somehow, he had foolishly thought Riley might be different, but no. The fact that she was from a different species didn’t seem to change the fundamental essence of her being a woman.

  He sighed and checked the time. It was already 10:17 am. They wouldn’t manage to start the case until almost lunchtime, he guessed.

  Shaking his head, he turned and shuffled in the opposite direction with his hands now clasped behind his back.

  “Hastily made promises…forgive us, O Lord, for we know not what we do.”

  Riley had refused to help him track the douchebag in the ski mask until after they’d had a proper outing, thus fulfilling his vow. He had hoped he could persuade her to delay it until after this case was solved.

  But as he knew by now—or ought to have known—fairies were capricious and temperamental little creatures. It was almost impossible to reason with them or bargain with the
m once they’d made their minds up about something important to them.

  At least it was a nice day. Winter was well upon them now, but it was mostly sunny with poofy white clouds interspersed through the blue sky, and neither too cold nor damp.

  As such, her insistence on having an actual picnic didn’t seem quite as silly as it had first sounded.

  “Hey!” a woman called.

  Remington glanced over his shoulder and turned. It was easy to see who had spoken since they looked directly at him and bounced on their feet while they waved a greeting. What took a moment, though, was allowing his brain to process the information.

  It was Riley and she was human-sized.

  “Oh…I…” he stammered. “Ah, hi there! Yup…” He stared.

  Once, shortly after they’d closed the file on Gabriel’s ill-fated coup d’état, Taylor had persuaded the fairy to perform a simple magic trick and grow herself from five inches to around five-three.

  He had tried not to think about that little incident since he’d spent these last few months gradually trying to cure himself of the worst of his vices—aside from moderate drinking. The last thing he needed was to be distracted on the job by helpless, drooling lust over a supernatural being whose anatomy he wasn’t even certain of.

  “You look…” he began and hesitated as he searched for the right words. “Um…attention-grabbing! Very vivid.”

  She wasn’t naked, which was a relief, although he had explicitly instructed her to come fully clothed and to dress classy. He should have known, though, that the Fair Folk had a completely different notion of what classy meant than humans did.

  Beaming with delight, she ran toward him, her bright pink plastic purse swaying, and leapt to throw her arms around his neck. “Aww! Thanks, Remy. I wanted to make sure you would be able to see me in a crowd.”

  She released him and lowered from her tiptoes. Nodding and scratching the back of his neck, he quipped, “Well, yes, you definitely succeeded at that. Your outfit is highly…vibrant.”

  The dress she’d selected—or made herself, perhaps?—looked like it had been made from a Pride Flag, except she’d rearranged the order of the colors so it bore less resemblance to a proper rainbow than it did to something sewn together from random strips of tie-dyed fabric.

  “Good,” she responded and calmed a little but still strutted and grinned, obviously pleased with herself. “And vibrant is a nice word. I don’t understand why humans don’t dress more colorfully. If you have to wear clothes, you might as well have fun with them.”

  Remy led the way toward the visitor center. “Well, fortunately or not, someone long ago decided that the less fun an outfit is, the more respectable the person wearing it is perceived. Especially for men. I have appearances to keep up, you see.”

  Inwardly, he cringed at his own hypocrisy, even if it was mostly a joke. He had only recently begun to rebuild what little respectability he still had, at least in the eyes of his family and most of the other society types.

  By now, wearing a suit and tie was mostly force of habit.

  “Oh,” he snapped his fingers, “the food. I almost forgot this would be a picnic. It’s a little chilly, but we’ll manage.”

  Riley waited for him and her smile faded to mere satisfaction and happiness as he hurried to his car and retrieved the picnic basket. He had no idea what kind of food Riley might have brought, besides honey, so he’d taken that responsibility on himself.

  He strode back toward her, the basket dangling from his arm. For a moment, he was able to appreciate the craftsmanship of her dress, now that the shock of its garish color arrangement had passed.

  The top was designed to lay about her shoulders almost like a shawl, yet it was still noticeably low-cut in front. If Riley had designed it herself, she’d probably taken a cue from Roberta “Boobs” Diaz at the office.

  The middle fit snugly about her waist, while the rest flowed in asymmetrical waves that were curiously elegant. A split ran up the side but stopped only a few inches above the knees, so nothing too risqué.

  He had to admit that in its own strange way, the getup was damn classy, after all.

  “Ooh,” she said and caught his attention, “what did you bring to eat? Something sweet, I hope. I have trouble eating things that don’t contain sugar or honey or NutraSweet or stevia.”

  “It must be nice to be a fairy,” he said and immediately glanced around to make sure no one had heard. The nearest other visitors were a couple of hundred yards away, thank God. “To be able to subsist entirely on candy and never gain weight.”

  She squinted as he stepped beside her. “What exactly is gaining weight? I know some humans get fat, but it never made any sense to me.”

  “If we eat too much–especially sugar and grease and bread products—our bodies turn the extra food into fat. It’s highly annoying, except during famines and Ice Ages.”

  “Oh, I see,” she said and tapped her lips thoughtfully.

  They approached the line forming at the entrance gates. It was longer than he would have liked, despite today being a weekday and in winter, no less. He supposed that New Yorkers were determined to enjoy what might be the last nice day of the year.

  He glanced at his date when they came to a stop at the back of the line.

  “You really do look nice,” he told her. “I mean that.”

  She blushed, which only made his words truer. “Thank you, Remington. I tried really hard to look pretty for you.”

  Remy decided she had been successful.

  While the more explicit details of her lovely body were tastefully obscured by the rainbow dress, there was still an infectious and gently erotic energy that seemed to emanate from her and her face was visible for all to see.

  Up close, with her the size of a human woman, he could appreciate her features far better, not to mention the subtleties of what she’d done with her hair and makeup.

  She had round cheeks but a fairly elongated facial structure, giving it a heart-shaped appearance that was highly appealing. Her lips were full and red, her nose perfectly symmetrical, and her eyelashes looked like they were close to an inch long. Her platinum hair was mostly pinned back, but she’d strategically allowed a few locks to fall over her face.

  “Damn,” he muttered.

  “What?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat. “The length of this line, is all. It’ll take, like, twenty minutes to get in, probably. At least in this weather, the sandwiches won’t spoil anytime soon.”

  “What kind of sandwiches? You never answered my question about what you have brought for brunch.”

  That was true. He’d been distracted. “I made an Italian cold-cut for myself—you probably wouldn’t like it—and a peanut butter and jelly for you. The jelly has tons of sugar, so don’t worry. I apologize if it’s a little soggy, though.”

  “Oh.” She tittered. “I don’t care about sogginess.”

  By now, a few other people in line had noticed Riley’s existence. Her brightly-colored reflection in the glass might have done the trick, or perhaps her cute, musical voice. A few were women who either scowled or simply gawked at her dress.

  Most, however, were men.

  Remy hooked his arm through hers. “In any event, dear, we’ll be in before you know it.” He leaned over and planted a quick kiss on her cheek, quite confident that most of the male onlookers saw.

  The oversized fairy giggled and blushed again but swatted at him with her purse. “We’re not dating yet. This is our first date, remember.” She settled into a calm posture and smirked into space.

  Most of the male onlookers probably overheard that, too.

  Fuck. Remington adjusted his tie and cufflinks and wiped the palms of his hands on the edge of the picnic basket.

  When they finally reached admissions, Remy paid twenty-three dollars for each of them. He could have saved a few bucks by pre-ordering a New York City Resident Grounds Pass, but that would require proof of residency and somehow, he di
dn’t think the Gardens would recognize Fluttershire Fairy Colony as a legitimate address.

  The notion that he even had to pay attention to such things made him mope a little. How had he ever allowed himself to become this poor?

  Once I’m rich again, small expenditures like this will not be a problem because I won’t waste two-thirds of my money on booze and drugs and parties anymore.

  Heads continued to turn toward Riley and her bubbly behavior and goofy dress as they proceeded into the gardens. Mostly, she remained blithely unaware but in some cases, he realized, she noticed people’s attention.

  “This is so exciting!” she lilted. “I’ve never been on a real date before, like a hu—er, normal person.” She tittered. “Can we go to a drive-in movie theater after this? Wait, do they still have those? I saw one of them in an old movie once when I snuck into someone’s house.”

  Remy shrugged. “I think there are a few of them still around. We don’t really have time today, I’m afraid. Maybe some other time?”

  They strolled out toward one of the pools. He was impressed with the verdancy of the plant life. The gardens obviously did a fine job of keeping the environment friendly to plant life even during the opening phase of winter. Of course, most of the flowers had gone dormant but the majority of the trees still had most of their leaves.

  Some guy appeared out of the bushes. He was balding and sweaty, and his demeanor suggested that he had spent considerable time at nightclubs twenty or twenty-five years ago.

  “Hey, hun,” he said to Riley and completely ignored Remington’s existence. “Don’t go back there. There are still a few bees hovering around even this late in the season.” He smirked, confident that his masculine offer of safety advice would impress the rainbow-clad maiden.

  “Bees!” she responded brightly and her eyes lit up. “I love bees. I wonder how their honey production is going.” She spun toward Remy. “I need to ask them. I’ll be right back.”