“Maybe that’s why she was killed,” Bene said sadly. “The information wasn’t sufficient for their purpose.”
“Maybe she refused to do more than that, and that’s why they killed her,” Gen murmured.
“She never did like to do as she was told.” Mina’s tone was bittersweet.
Gen mustered a tiny smile. “Always a rebel.”
“The question is, who killed her?” I asked after a somber moment passed.
Henrik cleared his throat. “I visited the coven Claudette frequented in the past. They were rather bitter about her being wooed away by the vampires of Saint-Germain.”
I stirred the air with my hand. “And?”
Henrik shook his head as if I was so, so stupid. “Celeste is known to have worked with members of the Saint-Germain coven in the past.”
Members? That was a fraternity of bloodsuckers, not a goddamn country club.
“Still not very solid evidence linking Celeste to Claudette’s murder,” Mina observed.
Marius made a face. “Not enough evidence to hold up in court, but I’ll buy it.”
My gut said the same thing, but we needed more.
Eventually, we divvied up jobs, agreeing to regroup at lunchtime. Mina and Marius set off to touch base with a few of his contacts. Henrik headed out to find more ofhiscontacts, while Bene and Gen tracked down the taxi captured in the bar’s video footage.
Yes, Bene and Gen. I stayed behind in my usual role as coordinator.
Funny how that used to make me feel important. Now, all I wanted was to be out on the streets, getting this case solved so we could all move on to better things.
But I sure as hell wasn’t leaving Gen alone in Henrik’s place to act as coordinator, nor was I willing to entrust Bene with that responsibility. Hell, not evenBenetrusted himself to coordinate things.
So I whiled away the next few hours amid Henrik’sGloomstadecor, making and taking calls and scrolling through the internet for any hint of Celeste and her associates. As a narcissistic succubus, she couldn’t resist social media, though she was careful about what she posted. Still, I found a few leads.
One of France’s gossipy newsfeeds had captured her on the arm of a billionaire pharma CEO at a charity dinner for Friendsof Notre Dame, for example, and her own feed indicated she hadn’t left Paris for the past few weeks.
I researched the pharma CEO as well as Henrik’s list of vampires who might have colluded with Celeste. But who? Why? To what end?
Slowly, the hours ticked by. At one thirty, everyone returned to trade notes and eat. Gen took out her sketchbook and drew a mind map, with a spider web of lines intersecting at Claudette, Celeste, andDad’s painting.
The taxi driver that Bene and Gen had tracked down remembered Celeste, but not her destination or whether she’d been toting a painting. Clearly, her succubus charms had overwhelmed the poor man’s brain.
Otherwise, our investigation had turned up a few tidbits, but nothing that turbocharged our investigation. Not until Mina’s phone rang, at least.
Still chewing her sandwich, she pulled out the phone.
“Allô?” she said, then switched to English. “Oh hello, Sid. How are you?”
Gen’s head whipped around, and my ears perked. Sid, the former art forger and family friend?
Mina nearly choked on her sandwich. “You sawwhat?”
Everyone cocked their heads.
“I’m sending the photo now,” she said, tapping into her phone.
“What is it?” Gen whispered.
Mina stuck up her hand, intent on the call.
