“Are you always this calm when someone points a gun at you?”
“Not really. But it’s been a pretty rough couple of days and I’m tired. Besides, I wanted to talk to you, so here we are.”
“Your day has been rough?” Zurine’s eyebrows twitched. “Did the armed men come and shoot up your home, too?”
“Not quite,” Hallie said. She eyed the sofa before she decided she would be better off sitting in the armchair. The sofa looked like it would be comfortable and was more than long enough to stretch out and sleep on, and Hallie needed to stay awake. The armchair held her upright as she sat back in it and watched as Zurine moved across to the storage cabinet, coming back to the chairs with a bottle and two glasses.
“Bit early for a drink, isn’t it?” Hallie commented as Zurine set the glasses down, pulled the stopper out of the bottle with her teeth and poured two generous measures. She nudged one towards Hallie and took the second glass with her to the sofa, setting the gun on the cushion beside her.
“I’ve lost my home and my livelihood in one morning,” Zurine commented, temper flaring as she glared at Hallie. “I need a drink.”
Hallie tilted her head, ignoring the glass for the moment. As she’d observed earlier, the forger was a master liar. And a lot of her emotions were completely genuine. But there was something else there. Something in her voice and the way she’d nudged the glass towards Hallie.
“Truth serum?” Hallie asked, noticing that Zurine had swallowed half the contents of her glass in one go. Perhaps she’d really needed the drink, or perhaps she was trying to prove to Hallie that the liquid really was safe.
Zurine went perfectly still. It was only for a moment, but long enough to confirm Hallie’s guess that there was something in the drink. Or the glass.
“I got given a truth serum a while back. Couple of months ago, I think. It didn’t go well. Had a really bad reaction to it,” Hallie said in her best light, chatty tone.
“It’s not a truth serum, and the drink is clear,” Zurine snapped. She sighed, got up and headed back to the cabinet, coming back with a different glass. “There’s a mild sedative on the glass. Just enough to relax you a bit. But, here, this one is clean.” She held out the fresh glass.
Because she was telling the truth, Hallie accepted the new glass and poured a small measure of the liquid, taking a cautious sip as Zurine sat down again. Her brows lifted at the smooth, smoky flavour. “This is the good stuff.”
“It really is.” Zurine topped off her glass and levelled a very direct stare at Hallie. “You’re not what I expected. Talbot, was it? Hm.” Zurine’s eyes narrowed and her gaze travelled over Hallie. “I’d heard of a Hallie Talbot. Skip tracer with an unblemished record. That you?”
“That’s me,” Hallie confirmed. She set the glass down. She believed that it was not doctored with anything, but she was still recovering from the use of magic.
“I’d be fascinated to know how you came to work with the Conclave Investigators.” That sounded like real curiosity. Hallie could imagine that Zurine liked collecting knowledge. A very useful trait in her work.
“It’s a long story, but it started off with them suspecting me of murder,” Hallie answered, and had to smile at Zurine’s reaction. “Yes, it surprises me that I ended up working with them, too.”
“And the man you were with, Abbott, was it? He’s happy working with someone from low city?”
“He hasn’t complained,” Hallie said lightly. She could understand Zurine’s surprise. From the outside, it must seem extraordinarily strange. It still felt odd from the inside. “Now I’ve told you some things, perhaps you’ll return the favour?”
Zurine sat back and folded one arm across her stomach, glass still half full. “I suppose that’s fair.”
“We’re trying to track down aveondkenwho goes by Findo Trask. Have you had any dealings with him?”
“Findo? I know him, yes. Haven’t seen him for a good long while. A couple of months, I think. Last I heard he had broken out of Conclave custody and was on the run.” Zurine hadn’t changed her position, apart from a slight lift of her brows suggesting surprise at Hallie’s question.
She was telling the truth. Hallie’s little spark of hope for a definite lead to Findo started to fade. She replayed Zurine’s words in her mind.
“Did you create a new identity for him?” Hallie asked.
Zurine’s brows lifted again, but this time the surprise was false, grating on Hallie’s senses. “Now, why would you think that? I run a dress shop.”
“Oh, please,” Hallie said, rolling her eyes. “We found your workshop and the chip machine. Girard was quite annoyed about that. Apparently, they should only be in government hands.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I wasn’t lying when I said it’s been a rough couple of days,” Hallie said, leaning forward slightly, “and I’m in no mood for more games or lies. I know you are a master forger and can create new identities and new ID chips for people. I knew that before we found your workshop.”
“That kind of thing will get you into Conclave custody with no prospect of release,” Zurine said. She was masking it well, butthere was a hint of fear in her face and voice now. “I’m not going to admit to anything.”
Hallie sat back and stared at the other woman, turning over what she’d said and not said and what she’d found. Zurine took another, deliberate, sip of the drink in her hand. The woman was scared by Conclave custody, but Hallie thought she might prefer that to the alternative, and decided to test her theory.
“Findo has a network of contacts and brokers across the world. Or some of it, at least. We came across a few in our travels. The last one we encountered was shot dead by some of those attackers who came to your shop. If we hadn’t been there, and if you hadn’t already run, you’d most likely be dead now as well.” Hallie kept her voice even, her gaze direct.
