River’s smile is infectious, and I turn my attention back to Patrick’s song. River pops off the log and retrieves a goblet of wine for me from a cart parked near the woods. It’s elderberry. Delicious.
“Speaking of fuckheads, how did it go with Seven?” He lowers his voice slightly. I look around the fire. No one else is paying the least bit of attention to us, so I tell him the truth. If anyone can help with this case, it’s River. He sees and hears everything.
“Happened March 20. A man was killed,” I whisper.
His brows rise, and he turns his full attention on me. “On the equinox? That is big. How did they manage to keep that a secret?”
I shrug. “Godmother spent a fair bit of magic hiding it. Apparently the victim had a thing for pixies and frequented the Dragonfly Club.” I pull Wing_Gurl’s picture from my back pocket and hand it to him. “Do you know who this is under all that illusion? We think she was the last one to see him alive.”
River takes the paper from me and whistles. “Interesting. The plot thickens.”
I take another sip of my wine. “What do you know, River?”
He sobers as he stares at the photo. “I’ve seen that illusion before, on a pixie named Phoebe Willowbark.”
“Do you know where I can find her? I just want to ask her a few questions.”
The corner of his mouth tugs downward when he looks back at me, and I realize it’s one of the few times I’ve ever seen River frown. “That’s the thing. Phoebe went missing on March 20.”
I start, open my mouth, and close it again. “Missing? Like missing as in no one knows where she is at all? No contact with anyone?” He knows what I mean. Sometimes pixies go on trips with their human boyfriends, but in those cases they usually let their families know they are okay.
He shakes his head. “Missing as in dropped off the face of the earth.”
I furrow my brow. “Does Godmother know about this? Is someone looking into it?”
He chuckles darkly. “You have been gone a long time if you think the powers that be care about a missing pixie, especially one who was last seen in the Dragonfly Club.”
“Was she, uh, in the sex trade?” I ask uncomfortably.
“People assume she left Devashire to be a high-end escort for her human john. It’s not unheard of, but I call bullshit. I think it’s an excuse for the powers that be not to look into the matter.”
“The March 20 timing is suspect. It could be a coincidence, but it’s definitely something to look into. What did she look like without her illusion?”
He pulls his phone from his pocket and navigates to a webpage with multiple pictures of the beautiful dark-haired pixie smiling with friends. “Her family set this up to get her face out there, help spread the word that she’s missing. Special person. Loved it when she came into the restaurant.”
I study Phoebe’s face on the screen. I don’t recognize her, but she looks younger than me. “Thanks, I’ll let you know what I find out.”
He groans. “I don’t think Phoebe’s disappearance is related to the murder you’re investigating.”
“How come?”
“Phoebe wasn’t the first pixie to go missing the way she did.”
“Huh?”
“Over the years, I’ve heard whispers of a predator who targets pixies at that club. There are five others, vanished without a trace, the first going back to before you left. No one has done a thing to try to find them or the one responsible. Their families have tried to pool their resources to hire a private investigator, but no one will take their case.”
The idea that crimes against multiple pixies have been reported but no one has taken them seriously makes me sick. Unfortunately though, it doesn’t surprise me. “I’m not an investigator, but I’ll do what I can to look into Phoebe’s disappearance, even if it’s not related to Michael’s murder. I’m going to the Dragonfly Club tomorrow night to ask around. I’ll ask about Phoebe as well.”
He gives me a nod of gratitude and polishes off his wine. “Just be careful what you tell fuckstain. He’s head of security, and he’s not going to take kindly to being called out about this.”
I think about that and flash back to Seven firing Brandon for his ineptitude. Seven runs a tight ship. He would definitely take offense at the accusation that his people didn’t investigate six missing persons cases due to prejudice. “I’ll keep it to myself until I know more.”
River’s brown eyes twinkle in the moonlight. We watch Patrick sing while we drink our wine. Several minutes pass, and I see a couple of satyrs at the edge of the firelight start to kiss. The man’s hand drops between the woman’s legs. I snap my attention back to the fire.
“So now that you’re back…” River’s smile has returned, and he turns it on me. “…would you care to take a lover?”
I almost fall off the log. With widened eyes, I ask, “Why? Are you volunteering for the position?”
