“Wait! It’s not—” Gem touched her upper lip, a look of uncertainty on her face.
I tugged on my fingerless gloves. The material was thin enough to be comfortable inside. “Did Jennifer know the guy, or was it an ex?”
Gem shrugged and put her hands in her lap. “A waitress said she got in trouble for talking to him a few times and ignoring her customers. She didn’t remember what kind of design was on his neck. Claude and I just thought…”
I laughed. “I’ve seen a dozen guys with tats on the back of their neck, and you go and accuse Shepherd. Maybe we should take our drinks over to the treachery room and finish this conversation.”
“He doesn’t have to be such a grump about it,” she declared. “If someone had described her talking to a girl with violet eyes, I’m sure Shepherd would have suspected me.”
I pushed the plate away, suddenly full. “Well, a neck tattoo narrows it down. Something we can keep an eye out for. If he’s been in here more than once, he might be a regular. Did she remember anything else about him?”
Gem shrugged. “She sees a hundred faces a night; I’m surprised she remembered that much. Alas, we’re back to square one.”
Claude scratched his chin. “Her whole life was in that car, and the Regulators didn’t find anything useful. All we can do is hope the baby turns up,” he said, hinting toward the black market offers that Wyatt was researching.
“How are we going to link that person to the one who broke into her car?”
He bent forward, menace flickering in his eyes. “Because I own his scent.”
Gem leaned against Claude, and it seemed to pacify him. She was a girl with a small frame, her features so unique that she looked like a fairy who’d stepped out of a storybook. Around her dark lashes, her skin sparkled with flecks of silver glitter. When she smiled, her cheeks glowed. And while she had a small mouth, her lips were full with the subtlest Cupid’s bow.
Claude put his arm around her and tilted his head down. “Are you ready to go home? I think we’re done here.”
I snorted. “So you just invited us over to get the waitress to ID Shepherd?”
“I’m never living this down, am I?” Gem scooted out of her seat. “Never, never! I’m going to hear about this for the next fifty years.”
Claude stood up and stretched. “Join the club. I still have to hear about the time I streaked through a supermarket.”
Gem chortled. “That wasn’t the funny part.”
He speared her with a hot glare as he put on his jacket.
“Tell me,” I said.
She poked her tongue between her teeth, a wide grin on her face. “He shielded his manlies with a box of Trix cereal.”
“They’re definitely not for kids,” he added. “Do you want a ride home?”
“Shepherd’s already hammered. I can’t leave him with the Jeep, so I’m the designated driver.”
“Don’t let him drink too much. See you at home.”
After they left, I switched seats to face the room and sent Christian a message.
Raven: Want to meet up for drinks?
Christian: The last time we drank, I lost a bet.
Raven: You’re missing out. Gem accused Shepherd of being the killer.
Christian: Better I stay at my bar and you stay at yours.
I wanted to tell him Shepherd was acting weird, but I let the conversation end.
My thoughts drifted back to dinner. That little kid was a good hider. I’d used my Mage ability to track down his energy, even though it was faint since he wasn’t a Mage. But he sparkled. Those intense emotions of happiness fluttered in the air like particles of light falling off a sparkler. He’d figured out how to take pictures, because he snapped one of me. I made a mental note to remind Shepherd to erase that picture.
And speaking of the devil, I watched Shepherd stumble to the table with half a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He filled each one, and even though I wasn’t a whiskey drinker, I accepted the offer.
