“Isn’t it always,” I grumble.
He takes out his notepad and flips it open, as if he can’t remember his own lines in our ridiculous charade. “What can you tell me about the fire at Lennon and Celine Forsythe’s home?”
“Fire?” I press my hand to my chest, feigning concern. “Goodness, is everyone all right?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Caldwell. Just answer the question.”
“I assure you, detective, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”
He rolls his glassy eyes. “Really. You mean to tell me youweren’tharassing the fire inspector earlier tonight?”
“Harassing?” I laugh. “Well, ifthat’show the inspector is categorizing our visits, perhaps I need to up my hospitality game. Do you think he’s fond of pastries? Maybe some nice, fresh muffins. Oh! Or those cinnamon chocolate croissants with the little frosted—”
“So you admit you were there tonight?”
“The bakery?”
“The inspector’soffice, Caldwell.”
“Oh, right. Forgive me. Brain’s a little foggy on account of the unexpected delay in caffeine consumption. Anyway, yes, I was there. Along with my associates, Jude Hendrix and Rook Van Doren. We had a meeting on another matter.”
“Whatother matter?”
“That’s of a proprietary business nature. I’m afraid I can’t disclose—”
“You can either disclose it, or you can accompany me uptown to the precinct, where I’ll tie you up in red tape and paperwork until the morning, and force you to disclose it then.”
He smiles, knowing he’s bested me, but clueless about the reason why. If I could, I’d wait him out for days, enjoying every second of making him look foolish. But sunrise and gargoyles don’t exactly mix, and I’m not sure the good ol’ boys in blue uptown are quite ready to see a man turn into a stone gargoyle before their very eyes.
So, grinning and bearing it, I say, “Blackmoor Capital owns a great many old buildings in this city, detective. Most of which require extensive upgrades for fire safety and other building code issues. Meeting with the fire inspector is a somewhat regular occurrence for us. You’re welcome to join in some time—perhaps you’ll learn something about this city you’re tasked with protecting and serving. Now, I’ve a very busy schedule, so if there’s nothing else—”
“There’splentyelse, Caldwell. Plenty else.” He gets right in my face, jabbing a finger into my chest. “One of these days, you’re going to drop your guard and make a mistake. And that’s when I’ll finally swoop in and nail you to the wall, and trust me when I tell you I’m gonna fuck you so hard, your goddamndescendantswill still be walking with a limp.”
“Or maybe,” I say softly, flashing him the kind of grin that would make Jude proud, “I’ll bring those cinnamon-chocolate pastries toyourgoddamn descendants, along with my condolences over the mysterious disappearance of their father, whose body was never found. Always such a shame when an upstanding officer of the law vanishes in the line of duty, especially when he leaves a family behind. What a fucking tragedy.”
His face pales, and he finally lowers his finger.
In the deadly silence that follows, I offer one last cordial smile. “Farewell, detective. Feel free to give me a ring if you’ve got any more questions. You know Ialwayslook forward to our little chats. Oh, and my best to the wife and kids.”
I leave him to do whatever it is crooked cops do when they’ve just been threatened by their favorite suspects, and head back to my office. No time for tea now, thanks to Reedsy’s annoying intrusion, but perhaps there’s a silver lining in this storm cloud after all.
Reedsy’s questioning about the fire has just given me the perfect opportunity to put the Archmagemoresolidly on my shit list, andlesssolidly on our trail, hopefully buying us a bit of breathing room with his most coveted treasures—Westlyn Avery and the Cerridwen Codex.
Time to pick up the phone… and pick a fight with my favorite shadow mage.
* * *
It takes three separate calls before the prick finally answers, and when he does, I don’t give him the opportunity to speak so much as a hello.
“I’ve just missed my evening tea, Lennon. Care to know why? Because Detective Reedsy has taken to assaulting me in the street on your behalf.”
“Draegan, this isn’t a good time. I—”
“First you accuse me—behind my back, I might add—of being involved in the disappearance of your son’s runaway bride. Just when I think we’ve moved past that, I’m questioned in the street like some sort of arsonist? Honestly, Lennon. I really believed we were building something here. If not a friendship, an alliance at the very least.”
“There’s no need to get upset. I merely—”
“Upset?Upset?I’m bloodylivid. Your underhandedness during our last visit is what’s spurring him on. Now, my reputation is being called into question right out in public, and if you think for onemomentI appreciate that, you’d better consult your crystal ball or Tarot cards or whatever divination method has so clearly led you astray, and ask again.”
