‘Thanks,’ I said drily, making the other man chuckle lightly.
‘Let me know if you need any further assistance, Wise. I’ve got to go. I’ve got a Grade Two myself.’
‘No problem. Thanks for your help, Darling.’ I winced as the name slipped out sans title.
‘No problem, sweetheart.’ He hung up with a laugh.
Heat crept into my cheeks, and I was grateful for the dial tone. Well, that was embarrassing. He must be used to it, I reasoned, pressing my palms to my hot cheeks.
Since I had my phone out, I dialled before I could second-guess myself.
‘Inspector,’ Krieg greeted warmly. ‘How are you?’
‘Do you have entrails in your hair?’
When he spoke, he sounded amused. ‘Not yet, but the day is young.’
‘I have a dead body.’
‘And you thought of me? I’m touched.’
I sighed. ‘The wounds are consistent with ogre tusks, Krieg.’
‘Ah, back toKrieg,are we now?’ he asked mildly.
‘You called meInspector!’
‘It’s a term of endearment.’
‘Can we get back to the dead body?’
‘By all means,’ he said smoothly. ‘You were saying one of my ogres killed someone?’
‘Lord Theodore Marlow. Can you check your books, please?’
At that, his tone was businesslike. ‘Of course, Inspector.’ I clenched my teeth. It no longer felt like a term of endearment. ‘I’ll check our records and be back in touch.’ He hung up.
No warm goodbyes, no promises to serenade me under moonlight. I pressed my lips together and ran a hand through my tousled brown hair. I really didn’t want to fuck things up with Robbie, but I had a dead guy killed by an ogre. What was I supposed to do? If I hadn’t been dating Robbie, that’s what I would have done: contacted the King of the Ogres and asked the question. Now that I was dating him, should I have done it differently? Asked him about it over a platter of hummus with a glass of wine?
I shook my head. The dead came first; they had to. If that put a crimp in my dating life, I’d deal with it.
I scanned Ed’s short report, the salient details of which were: he’d found nothing. No prints, no hair or fibres, and no weapon. It was rare not to have a lead to tug, and that underlined that whoever had killed Marlow was a pro. Ogres were frequently hired for such matters, so in reality that inference didn’t take us much further along in the investigation, but it did tighten the link to Robbie and his people. I didn’t love that.
In lieu of a lead, I’d have to dig into the victim – in a different way from the killer. And I had what I hoped would be an excellent source: Kassandra Scholes, the witch Symposium member.
She answered after a few rings. ‘Stacy! Nice to hear from you, love. How are you?’
I winced. She thought this was a social call. ‘I’m good, thanks. You?’
‘Same old, same old. When were you going to tell me you’re dating High King Krieg?’
I groaned. A few weeks ago,The Mystic Informerhad outed Krieg and me as dating. He didn’t love it because he worriedabout his enemies coming for me. I didn’t love it because no one except us deserved to know a damn thing about our personal lives – friends and family excluded, and Kass was definitely one of them. She absolutely deserved to learn about the relationship from me, not through a news article.
‘Sorry. It’s new,’ I said finally.
‘Notthatnew. It’s in the bloody papers!’ Her voice shifted from exasperation to concern. ‘Do you know what you’re doing, Ace? He’s a dangerous man.’
I huffed. ‘I wish people would stop treating me like I’m some sort of defenceless fluffy kitten.’
