“You’ll be there while I’m doing paperwork,notin the middle of a debrief or with me in the field or at a crime scene—and only until I get child care worked out.”
“I don’t need no dagnab babysitter.”
“We will talk later. Now scoot. Take your tablet upstairs and practice.”
“This ain’t fair.”
“Thisisn’tfair.”
“That’s what I said. Not fair.” Mud snatched up her tablet and stomped up the stairs.
“Ha-ha,” I muttered, grinding my teeth. I put my gobags together and started a half pot of coffee. Mud was twelve, a grown-up woman ready for marriage according to some in the church, but just entering her teenage years. God help me.
•••
Margot walked up the steps to my porch. She was tall, lean, with broad shoulders and her hair buzzed short enough to see her scalp, a perfect do for the weather. I shoved my own red locks away from my sweaty face and dreamed of centralair-conditioning. It had to be in the high nineties in the shade and nearly that inside the house, even with the window unit going full blast. Normal for late July.
I opened the door and studied her, even as Margot studied me back. She was wearing her badge and weapon in plain view. She might have implied that this was a friendly little chat, but she was on the job. That hurt my feelings, but I shoved it down inside and stepped back from the door. “Welcome to my home. Hospitality and safety while you’re here.” It was a God’s Cloud of Glory greeting and promise. “Come on in.”
Margot said, “I’m honored to accept your hospitality.” That was one of the proper church responses and I tilted my head in surprise. “I’m one of the few special agents who’ve bothered to learn the proper responses for the church.” She stepped inside. “Dang, girl, I thought you left that ‘suffer for the sake of your soul’ stuff behind. It’s hot as hades in here.”
“Mm-hm,” I said. “Coffee?”
“Sure. Let’s make the unholy hell of this furnace room hotter.”
“I got ice cubes if you want.”
“Iced coffee? That sounds like a little bit of heaven.”
I led her to the kitchen and she leaned on the counter, seemingly content and comfortable in my home. I took a tray of ice cubes and felt her looking around, taking inventory. The first time a cop had done that I had accused him of wanting to steal my belongings. Now I knew that cops were just notoriously nosy.
“Where’s your sister?” Margot had indeed been snooping.
I didn’t answer and she said, “I can’t see any court not wanting Mindy to live here. If you need a reference, I’ll happily provide one.”
A spurt of anger shot through me. The fact that Mud was living here off and on and I was trying to get custody of her wasn’t widely known. Margot had been spying into my court records. “You been keeping better track of me and mine than is common even for cops,” I said, maybe a mite too calm. “Want to tell me why?”
Margot stood and went to the wood-burning stove,inspecting it as if she had never seen one before. She held a hand over it as if testing to see if it was being used in the overheated house. She said, “You knew my secret. I expected you to out me and you didn’t. I was curious.”
I made a sound in the back of my throat that might have meant anything from agreement to a question. I could feel her eyes land on me, but went back to the task at hand, making iced coffee. I got out sugar and creamer. Found a pretty, hand-thrown mug with a soft greenish glaze. Tried to figure out how to temper it for hot and cold together. I didn’t want to crack my mug. “I did tell my boss,” I said. “Internal eyes only. If you have a problem or need help, you can ask and receive. Sugar and cream?”
Margot nodded slowly. “Both when it’s iced.”
I found an old Pyrex measuring cup in the pantry and dumped in cream and sugar, poured in the hot coffee. Stirred. Added the ice cubes, which made happy little crackling/popping sounds as they exploded under the change in temperature. Carefully, I transferred the mixture to the pretty mug, which did not crack or shatter. I gave the mug to my... guest.
Margot wandered some more, pausing to stroke Cello, who was lying across the back of the old couch. The cat sprang away and raced up the stairs. Margot sipped. “Word came to my SAC from high up in PsyLED that there’ve been black-magic witch circles in Knox County, circles not reported to PsyLED.”
High up in PsyLEDmeant Soul or the new man, FireWind. “Oh?”
“She asked me to do a little digging. As you know, I keep a watch on everything witchy in the county for familial reasons, so I take a lot of work home. I didn’t like what I discovered. Then you sent me a message. And then you got yourself abducted.”
She was laying out a timeline for some reason, but I had no idea why. I had discovered that when someone made an incoherent interrogative sound, people kept talking. “Mm-mm?”
“I had a meeting with the sheriff earlier today. He was busy, but he made time for me.” She meant that he was busy because of me, but made time for the FBI. It was a faint,professional dig. I didn’t react and Margot went on. “Seems there’s a young, para-hating detective who tried an end run around Unit Eighteen, not reporting magic and sacrifice. The sheriff called him into his office and took his badge, informing him and me that, pending an internal investigation, Detective Steff is on administrative leave. I don’t expect the investigation to result in Steff being dismissed, but it does place a black mark on his record.”
She tilted her nearly bald head to me and smiled. “FBI confiscated the detective’s official and personal computers, laptops, and tablets.” By her tone, I knew Margot meant she had done that in person. “I made copies of everything on external hard drives and transported the contents to PsyLED. Jones was overjoyed. That woman is a serious risk to PsyLED security, isn’t she?”
I looked at Margot innocently. “Beg pardon?”
