“Well, she paid me a deposit.” I shrugged. “I have to make an effort to return it if I can’t take the photos she wanted.”
“Honest, huh?” She sniffed. “That’s a rarity these days. Most folks seem related to sharks, especially those in the damn supermarkets-”
“The van,” I interrupted, sensing a tirade coming on.
“It was white.”
And there were only a few thousand of them tootling around Berren. “Any distinguishing marks? Logos?”
“It had the word express painted in green. And a picture of a little truck doing wheelies—I remember that. My grandson through it was cute.”
It was something, at least. “Did she use the same truck when she arrived?”
She frowned. “Couldn’t be certain, but I think so.”
“Did she have any friends helping her? Someone I might be able to contact her through?”
“Well, she had plenty of men friends over the last week, I can tell you that.”
“But did any of them help her move in or out?”
“No, there was only the elf.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “Elf? Could you describe him?”
“They all look the bloody same, don’t they?” Her gaze suddenly narrowed. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“My father was an elf,” I said, beginning to run out of patience. “What about-”
“It shouldn’t be allowed,” she said, voice somewhat belligerent. “Like should keep to like.”
And what a boring world that would be. “Was the elf young or old?”
“Hard to say with bloody elves, isn’t it? You’re all blessed with long life and good preservation. Bloody unfair it is-”
“Well, thanks for your help,” I cut in, before she could go off again. I dug the business card out of my pocket and handed it to her. “If she does happen to return, can you ask her to ring me?”
I spun on my heels and walked back toward the gate, but she wasn’t quite finished with me yet.
“I did get a number plate, if that’s any use to you.”
I paused, closed my eyes briefly, then forced a smile as I turned around. “Rebecca had a car?”
“No, not the dragon. That wouldn’t make much sense, now, would it?”
Well, actually, it did. Dragons might be able to fly, but they did have the twelve hour restriction when shifting into either shape, and that made casual flight a tad more problematic.
“Then who?” Despite my best effort, irritation edged my tone. This woman was even more annoying than Delilah, and I hadn’t thought that possible.
“The elf, of course. He was here Friday night. Thought he was a burglar at first, because the dragon wasn’t home and he didn’t park in the drive but down the street some. The dragon came home later, just before one of her skinny male friends arrived.” She stopped and frowned. “Odd that. It was the only night we didn’t hear them making out.”
Friday night was the night Keale had gone on his drinking binge, so it couldn’t have been him she’d spotted. “Did the elf leave before or after they arrived?”
“Didn’t see him leave.” Her tone implied she would have.
“Would I be able to grab a copy of the number plate? I might be able to get a friend to track down the owner for me.”
“Sure. Hang on a sec.”
She disappeared from the fence line, but reappeared a few minutes later, cheeks flushed, as if she’d been running. “Here it is.”
I accepted the grubby piece of paper with a smile of thanks. It wasn’t a number plate I knew, but that didn’t mean anything given it was easy enough to hire a car. “Do you remember what type of car it was?”
“Red Toyota. Rented through Avis.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You sure?”
She looked down her nose at me. “Of course.”
I had a sudden image of her scurrying up the street, nose twitching inquisitively as she jotted down all the details, and had to restrain a grin. “Thank you very much for your help. If you happen to see the elf come here again, could you give me a call?”
Not that I expected either of them to turn up again. Whatever had been going on here, they’d obviously moved on.
“There money in it if I do?”
If it helped make sense of this mess, then why not? “Sure.”
She nodded, looking pleased. “I’ll keep a look out then.”
“Thanks,” I said, and made my escape.
But back in my car, I was confronted by two more choices. See Kaij, ask my questions, or go home.
If I wanted answers, I had to choose the former, even if every part of me was desperate to choose the latter.
If I was going to do this, I had to do it now, before I totally chickened out.
I took a deep breath that did nothing to calm the butterflies in my stomach, then started the car and headed back to Berren.
Chapter Nine
My gut had twisted itself into serious knots by the time I walked into the preternatural squad’s Matthews Street headquarters. My footsteps echoed softly on the marble tiles, and the pleasant looking woman sitting at the security desk looked up.
Her smile was warm, but her gaze assessing. “Can I help you?”
“I’d like to see Kaij Raintree, please.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“I’ll see if he’s available.” She picked up the phone, then raised an eyebrow and added, “And you are?”
“Harri Phillecky.”
“One moment, then.”
She pressed a button then waited. I turned away and studied the austere foyer. It was all glass and grayness, with the floor tiles practically merging into the walls. There were no chairs, nothing in the way of color, and little that would, in any way, invite someone to wait around. If not for the small silver sign announcing this was the divisional headquarters of the preternatural squad on the wall behind the security desk, it would have been hard to guess this was even a police station. Although the banks of scanners that divided the foyer from the lift area certainly left the impression that this was no ordinary office building.
“Detective Raintree will be down shortly,” the security guard said.
“Thanks.”
I walked over to the front windows, but the sunshine pouring through didn’t do much to lift the chill from my skin. I rubbed my arms, my stomach still doing flip-flops as I fought the urge to run.
So much for the thought that subsequent meetings would be easier than the first.
After what seemed like ages, one of the lifts behind the scanners swished open, and footsteps echoed softly. I took a deep breath that didn’t calm the tension, then slowly turned to face him.
His gaze swept me briefly, then rose to meet mine. Once again, there was little in the way of expression and absolutely no way to tell what he might be thinking.
He came to a halt several feet away, and crossed his arms. “What do you want, Harri?”
I hesitated. “That depends on how willing you are to share some information.”
“You know I can’t-”
“What I know,” I interrupted, “Is that the preternatural squad can play hard and lose when it comes to the rules. I might have some information you’ll find useful, but I need a favor in return.”
For several seconds he did nothing more than stare, his expression remote, yet somehow so judgmental. I didn’t flinch or react, returning his gaze evenly even though his warm, foresty scent filled every breath and stirred to life the long dead ashes of love and desire, pain and anger.
Eventually he said, “There’s a coffee shop down the road. Let’s go.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond, just strode past me, all energy and brooding darkness. I released a breath, prayed for strength, then spun on my heels and followed him out.
The coffee shop was large and crowded. He wove his way through the tables with a deftness that spoke of easy familiarity—a thought that was confirmed when a pretty blonde waitress came over to us.
“Same as usual, Kaij?”
A smile briefly broke the austerity of his expression. “Make it a double. I think I’m going to need the caffeine hit.”
“Been one of those days, has it?” she said, voice sympathetic.
“Let’s just say it’s taken a dramatic nose dive.”
He said it lightly, but it didn’t take a genius to know where that particular barb had been aimed. I forced a smile as the waitress glanced at me inquiringly. “A regular coffee, and a slice of cake, thanks.”
“Chocolate, carrot, or white mud?”
“Carrot would be nice.”
She wrote it down, tucked her notepad away, then said, “Won’t be long.”
Kaij waited until she left, then leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms again. “What do you want?”
“Two things.” My tone was as blunt as his. “But first, I’d like to pick your brains about Prevoron.”
Surprise flitted briefly through his green eyes. “Why?”
I hesitated. “I suppose you heard about the dragon crashing into the helicopter?”
“You’d have to have your head stuck in the sand not to hear about it. It’s all over the news.”
“Well, that dragon was Keale.”
He snorted softly. “Which is not entirely surprising. The stupid bastard should have had his wings permanently clipped years ago.”
Which was probably true, given the amount he tended to drink. “Despite all the evidence to the contrary, I think he might have been drugged rather than drunk.”
“That’s no excuse.” Kaij’s voice was grim. “Drunk, drugged, he still killed four people and he has to pay.”
“What if he wasn’t responsible for either the drug or his subsequent actions?”
He studied me for several seconds, his expression still neutral and giving little away. “If Prevoron is in his system, it would have been detected during blood tests.”
