Page 27

“I mentioned his jacket in the context of⁠—”

“The jacket,” Valene agreed, nodding. “I heard the jacket.”

“The cliff was a ward breach. He was absolutely on duty.”

“And the square?”

Althea picked the cracker back up.

Garnet held her wine glass halfway raised. “He sat down.” Not a question. “He didn’t stand. He sat down at your table.”

The fireplace added an opinion. Nobody commented on it.

“It was a contained incident by then.”

“Mmm.” Garnet drank her wine.

“What does mmm mean?”

“It means I have a thought I’m not going to say.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Garnet.”

“You’ll get there on your own.” She picked up a cracker, completely at ease with where the conversation was headed. “You always do.”

Bexley had been writing. Althea had been trying not to look.

“What tab is that?”

She hesitated. “The green tab.”

“What does green mean?”

She hesitated a beat longer this time. “Favorable developments.”

The table went quiet, four women trying hard not to make it obvious.

“Bexley.”

“It’s an early guess. Based on what we’ve got so far.”

“What we have?”

“The jacket. The shoulder.” She turned a page. “The square. The cliff. The fact that the fires respond to him at a distance.”

Althea stared at her.

“Also,” Bexley said carefully — obviously saving this detail — “the warrant officer at the northern station told Fiora’s contact at the supply district that, in thirty years of cliff patrol, the sheriff has never — not once — arranged for a deputy to escort someone down the path. He always does it himself or relies on people to find their way independently.”

“He sent Corin because he had to finish the incident report⁠—”

“He sent Corin,” Fiora said softly, “because he wanted to make sure you got down safely and couldn’t leave the site himself.” She raised her glass. “He sent his own deputy. For your footing.”

Althea’s glass refilled. She hadn’t sighed. She’d done as if sighing, which the enchantment apparently considered close enough.