As she approached the restaurant door, she mentally reviewed the information she’d retrieved for Kit McCafferty. The cat lady had wanted to know what the Witches’ Council werediscussing in their daily meetings that week. In theory, that information was restricted to council members only but Mallory hadn’t needed to approach the likes of Nicola Sturgess to find it out. Late last year she’d helped a young witchling find a job at the grand council headquarters and he was still paying off that debt in small incremental favours.
It had been an easy matter to ask him to find out what was top of the council members’ agenda. He’d recently been tasked with serving coffee and cake during their breaks and eavesdropping on their conversations took no effort on his part, though some mysterious shenanigans concerning a particular Fetch who’d been arrested for murder earlier in the day had delayed matters somewhat.
Obviously Mallory wasn’t planning to tell Kit just how easy it had been to get the information; those sorts of secrets were hers alone.
The scent of red roses tickled her nostrils and she was mindful of the small candles dotting the fringes of the red carpet that led to Vallese’s interior. The skirt she was wearing was beautiful but cheap and she’d likely flare up like a vampire in sunlight if the hem caught any of the flickering flames.
She nodded appreciatively at the tuxedoed violinist at the entrance and smiled at the maître d’ who appeared mildly panicked at her approach. She delved into her memory for his name – John? Jack? Something like that. She chewed her lip and concentrated.James. That was it.
He’d worked for Vallese for years and was a loyal employee. She’d made an approach to cultivate him as a useful source of information about the guests who passed through the restaurant’s hallowed doors but he’d refused immediately. He took his job seriously and considered blabbing to be a betrayal of the highest order, regardless of what information his boss passed over to her with loose-lipped ease. James was one of thegood guys. He’d not even taken any offence at her approach, just declined politely and changed the subject.
Mallory held up her hands to forestall any polite remark he might voice at her lack of a dinner reservation. ‘Good evening! I’m not here to eat,’ she told him. ‘I have a meeting with one of your guests. I just need a moment of Kit McCafferty’s time.’
‘Mr Vallese did not mention that you would visiting us tonight, Ms Nash.’
‘He doesn’t know, and there’s no need to bother him. As I said, I’m here on business. I’m not looking for any food.’ She paused. ‘Though a glass of wine might be nice.’ Vallese’s cellar was extensive, and if there was one thing of which Mallory heartily approved it was a wide selection of wine.
James continued to fret. ‘Mr Vallese will want to know…’
This was the problem when you’d worked for a lot of different people in the city: you often rubbed up against them when you were dealing with other clients. Not everyone was as circumspect as James, and Mallory doubted that Kit would appreciate the restaurant owner overhearing their conversation.
‘Please,’ she interrupted. ‘I am sure he’s busy in the kitchen. Don’t bother him.’
She craned her neck so she could peer into the well-lit restaurant. Kit was in the far corner – at the best table of the house, in fact. The purple-haired woman was staring into the distance looking vaguely bored. Opposite her sat a werewolf.
Mallory blinked. That wolf was Alexander MacTire, alpha of the MacTire pack. Huh. She’d learned a lot about him from a potential werewolf client only a few weeks earlier who had told her that MacTire was yielding to the demands of his pack and actively searching for a mate.
Mallory wouldn’t have put Kit and MacTire together as a couple; in fact, she was certain that Kit was involved romantically with Thane Barrow, who was a far better matchfor her. Unless the cat lady was hedging her bets, which seemed unlikely, this was probably a business meal and not a romantic interlude. It was a strange venue for an official meeting but perhaps Alexander MacTire wanted to show off; from what little she’d heard about him, that seemed a distinct probability.
‘I’ll just nip in and out,’ Mallory told the maître d’. ‘Five minutes, tops.’ Before he could protest further, she slipped past him and went inside. Sadly, she only managed a few steps before she was accosted by a frowning waiter whom she didn’t recognise.
‘Can I help you, ma’am?’ he asked in a polite clipped tone that was only one degree away from gazing up and down derisively at her somewhat dishevelled appearance.
Mallory pointed at the table. ‘I need to speak to one of your guests for a few minutes. Kit McCafferty. She’s over there.’
‘You can wait outside until they’ve finished their meal. Then, if Miss McCafferty wishes to speak to you, I am sure she will do so.’
Mallory held her ground. ‘She’s expecting me.’ The waiter wrinkled his nose. ‘Iamgoing over to speak to her,’ she told him softly. ‘Unless you want to throw me out and ruin everyone’s evening, it is going to happen.’
James was gesturing vigorously from the other side of the front door to attract the waiter’s attention and tell him that Mallory was more than welcome. Unfortunately the poor man didn’t notice. ‘Fine,’ he sighed at the apparently shocking imposition on his time. ‘Wait here for one moment.’
Mallory smiled. As the waiter went to speak to Kit, she turned to James and waved him off through the glass. She’d got what she wanted and his involvement would only complicate matters.
She watched as the waiter nodded to Kit, and Alexander MacTire stood up and headed for the restroom. Excellent. Without waiting any longer, she strode forward. ‘Hey, Kit!’
The cat lady offered her a friendly smile that was definitely tinged with relief; it appeared her intrusion was more than welcome even though Kit had clearly dressed up for the occasion. She looked good; Mallory hoped that Alexander MacTire appreciated her efforts.
She sat on the chair he’d vacated before offering up a white lie to excuse her tardiness. ‘Sorry I’m late – it took longer than I expected to get the information you needed. The Witches’ Council has been in disarray all day.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Something about one of their own getting arrested for murder, which I believe you know about?’
Kit also raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re well-informed.’
Mallory’s smile stretched wider. ‘That’s my job. Anyway, I’ll knock a month off your waiting period because of the delay. If I don’t come to you for the return favour within the next eleven months, you are released from further obligations. Is that okay with you?’
‘Sure.’ Kit looked delighted at the suggestion.
Pleased that she’d been right about Kit’s relaxed attitude, Mallory leaned forward, took a slice of bread from the basket and started munching. The last thing she needed was for her conversation to be interrupted by her stomach growling. Although she’d told James the truth about not wanting any food, now she was inside the restaurant with its delicious aroma of garlic, tomato and oregano she realised she was desperately hungry. Far too often she became so absorbed in her work that she forgot to eat.
‘So,’ she said. ‘You wanted to know what was top of the council agenda this week. Despite the spanner in the works with the murder arrest, there’s one topic that’s been consuming the witches.’
