At the mention of a child, I froze, eyeing her more intently. “A kid?”
Veronica nodded. “Her name is Gwendolyn, but she goes by Wendy. I found her room a mess, the window broken, and she was gone. I went to tell Balthazar and raise the alarm, which is when I found him dead. I swear to the gods, I didn’t do it.”
I winced at her use of the wordgods. I’d had enough dealings with those ancient assholes to last a lifetime. In my experience, they tended to enjoy screwing with people for fun more than they did answering any fucking prayers.
“I believe you,” I said, holding my hand up. “Do you think the girl is still alive, though? If they killed the uncle, why wouldn’t they kill her too?”
She pulled a pair of glasses out of her pocket. “I have these.”
I frowned. The lenses had been removed.
“The hell is that?”
“They belonged to Wendy,” she said, staring down at them with a sad look on her face. “I tried a scrying spell on them while I was hiding. I wanted to see if I could locate her, but…” She looked up at me, and she looked so miserable that I actually pitied her. “I’m still learning magic. I basically turned them into a mood ring or something. I can feel when she’s happy or scared or resting, stuff like that. Nothing more.”
I swallowed hard, my throat going dry.
“Uh…how old is this girl?” I asked.
“She’s twelve.”
A fist clenched in my chest, making my heart shudder. An innocent child?
“Mr. McClintoc?” Veronica said, taking a step toward me and holding a hand out. “Are…are you okay?”
I should toss her out on her ass. End this shit before I get into something I don’t need to concern myself with.
It was a good thought, probably the right thought, yet that old, burned-out detective side wasn’t as strong as the flickering flame that had suddenly ignited within me. A desire to right old wrongs, to do one more good deed to try and erase what happened in the past.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I came to a decision that I never in a million years would have believed possible an hour ago.
“Fix my fucking door and wall,” I said, waving a hand. “Use that magic shit you’ve got. Then sit on the couch and tell me everything.”
“You’ll help?” she asked, her face softening with utter relief.
“I didn’t say that. I just want you to fix my shit, then we’ll talk. That’s all. No promises, justtalk.”
“Okay,” she said, damn near yelping the word.
She hurried back to the entrance and mumbled a few words while holding her hands over the door. She was right—she was a fairly shit witch. Most magic users could have fixed that with a flick of the wrist. She tried three different times before she got the door to float back to the frame and repair itself.
While she worked on fixing the busted wall, I returned to my bedroom and put on a more normal set of clothes, and returned as she finished up.
“All done,” she said, and the smile on her face made me think she’d been a little worried she wouldn’t be able to do it, and that she was proud of herself.
“Uh huh.” I grunted and walked to the small coffee maker that sat by the single window of my office. “Want a cup? I’m notgoing back to sleep after all this. Might as well get the day started right.”
“I’m fine,” she said as she sat down on the couch.
With my freshly brewed coffee, I walked over and sat across from her. “All right. Out with it. Tell me everything, but”—I gave her a stern look—“don’t you dare lie to me. I’ll know the moment you do.”
Veronica’s brows knit together, and I couldn’t stop myself thinking how cute she looked when she did that.
“Why would I lie to you? You won’t be able to solve my case if I lie.”
I took a sip of coffee, then let out a rueful chuckle. “Well, that is refreshing as hell. For most people, even the ones who are innocent, they default to lying.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Why?”
