Now that she mentioned it, I didn’t either. But I already had so much on my plate that I wasn’t eager to add a social justice issue to the docket.
“Once things are all said and done, why don’t we have a face-to-face conversation with them and see what their thoughts on the matter are?”
“Really? You’d be willing to do that?”
“Of course,” I answered sincerely.
But for the moment, we had bigger fish to fry.
Chapter 20
Cheribelle
Unexpected Guests
“Well, that was a bust,”I groused as we walked into the hideout where all the VanMarches were hiding.
I supposed it was a good thing that we had ruled out the immediate family members of the two other packs, but it felt like a hollow victory. While none of their emotions lined up with someone pulling off a devious plan, and none of them could shield their emotions to the point of appearing like the blank canvas the Luther-zombie was, it was disappointing not to have any leads at all.
That was probably what I got for cosplaying as a real detective. I should have left it to the professionals, because instead of continuing the legacy of my mother or even helping Paul, I was just wasting a lot of time.
“I wouldn’t call it that,” Paul said as we strode into the underground antechamber. The first time he brought me here, I had been truly impressed, and I couldn’t help but think of a certain quartet of mutant reptiles who would have loved such fancy and covert digs. “We eliminated about a dozen suspects, didn’t we? And now we can be slightly less paranoid when interacting with the other families.”
“I’ve compiled a database of any significant conflicts there’s been with our pack for the past hundred years,” Penelope said, not even looking up from her laptop. Although I hadn’t had much time to get to know her, it hadn’t taken more than an hour to figure out that she was insanely smart and driven. Sometimes, it made me self-conscious of my own meager accomplishments, but I kept that to myself.
However, I couldn’t help but admire that she had chosen to stick around rather than being whisked off to the safety of her fancy law firm in the UK.
“Perhaps we could start there for your next investigation?”
My mood brightened at that, as I’d expected the VanMarches to turn on me for having no results. But it felt like they had more faith in my process than I had. If Paul didn’t know the truth about my empathic abilities, I was pretty sure I would be drowning in guilt.
“Mind if I look at it?” Paul asked, crossing over the sewer-like waterway that dominated the middle of the large room, essentially dividing it into two sections, save for maybe six feet of copper grating smack dab in the middle that connected the halves.
“Please do! I’d love it if you’d help me cross-reference with any records of magic use or if each entrant is even still alive.”
“Let me grab my laptop, and I’ll get right on that. Do you have the file uploaded to our secure drive?” His sister gave him a look that wassovery younger sibling of her. “Of course you do.”
While those two locked in on that, I went back to the kayak thing we’d used to paddle through the secret waterway to the antechamber. I’d been completely shocked at the vast array of tunnels, twists, and turns until Paul had explained that the entire place had built because of Prohibition. It was amazing what humans and magical folks alike had done to get their drink on.
I pulled out the bag of fast food we’d gotten on the way back. While there was a full kitchen in the place and it was well stocked, I was at that time in my cycle where I relentlessly craved salt and grease. Not exactly convenient. But hey, if we really got down to brass tacks and the communists invaded my funhouse while our investigation was still ongoing, we could probably send one of the changelings pretending to be Paul and Chris to the front door to grab my UberEats. I’d get a delicious meal and maybe lure Luther out all in one fell swoop.
“What’s that there?” Chris asked, stopping his pacing for once. Although the estate was crawling with disguised detectives, regular cops, and pretty much all the security still willing to work here, it was clear Chris got no comfort from that. His anxiety was a cyclone above his head spewing out random, billowing geysers of dread. I had to try quite hard to see anything else besides his ever-growing panic.
“Burgers and chicken sammies. Some fries. You want?” I offered the bag to him. It wasn’t exactly gourmet fare, and it was only lukewarm after our journey here to the antechamber, but I was happy to share it.
Chris wrinkled his nose. “You actually eat that poison?”
I rolled my eyes. “You really wanna callthispoison when you have someone literally trying to kill you and your siblings?”
“I’m afraid I can see your logic,” he shot right back before taking the bag and opening it. “Anything off limits?”
“The cheeseburger with the red sticker. It’s got no ketchup on it.”
“Who doesn’t like ketchup?”
“Me, bitch. It’s too sugary. When I get a greasy burger, I want salt, salt, and then more salt.”
“All right then.”