“The Thornwicks,” Didi finished, her face darkening. “Or someone who’s attempting to do what they nearly did all those years ago.”
My wolf stirred uneasily.
Every lead in this case kept circling back to the same name. The Thornwicks. An exiled family whose magical signature hadn’t been detected in decades and whose whereabouts were currently unknown.
Still, my instincts were telling me the Lincoln sisters’ disappearance had somethingto do with them. I could tell from Didi’s expression that she was thinking the same thing.
We stopped for a late lunch at Stake My Shake. Bo attempted to steal Gavin’s fries and had his dessert confiscated.
The afternoon sun was sinking behind the mountains surrounding Amberford when Didi finally pulled into the parking lot behind Hawthorne & Associates.
“I’ll call my coven contacts tonight,” she said tiredly. “See if they can dig up anything else. There has to be something we’re missing.”
I nodded and got out of the car with Gavin and Bo. Something caught my eye in the side mirror.
A black cat sat on the low brick wall that fenced the parking lot. It was perfectly still and was watching us with unblinking golden eyes.
My wolf’s hackles rose when I picked up on a strangely familiar sense of wrongness. Bo’s ears twitched.
“What is it?” Gavin said, picking up on our sudden stillness.
I blinked. The cat had disappeared.
“Did you see that?” I asked Gavin sharply.
“See what?” the dragon newt said, following my stare with confusion.
I frowned. Bo shifted closer to me, his wary gaze still locked on where the cat had been.
Didi leaned across the central console of her car. “What’s wrong?”
I hesitated. “Nothing. I thought I saw something.”
19
FOLLOW THE MONEY
Gavin was alreadyat his desk when Bo and I arrived at Hawthorne & Associates early the next morning. This alone was not unusual. The dragon newt had a habit of setting off for work early, on account of his commute involving flying over a mountain range and his irrational fear of the express elevator.
What was unusual was the state of his workspace.
Printouts, spreadsheets, and financial statements covered every available surface. Folders labeled with color-coded tabs were piled in meticulous stacks next to his usual arrangement of fire extinguishers and, more worryingly, several empty coffee cups. A highlighter graveyard occupied the far corner of the desk, at least a dozen spent markers lined up like tiny fluorescent tombstones.
Bo cocked his head. “Is he building a nest?”
“It does have that kind of energy,” I murmured.
Dragon newts hoarded compulsively. I’d learnedearly on that Gavin’s version of hoarding involved organizing things within an inch of their life and then organizing them again.
“He’s been here all night,” a voice said behind us.
Bo and I both jumped a foot in the air with a yelp and whirled around.
Mindy studied us with a puzzled expression where she floated in mid-air.
I clutched my chest, my heart slamming painfully against my ribs. “You scared the bejeezus out of me.”
Bo’s ears flattened. “I nearly pooped my calorie-controlled breakfast, lady!”
