by Gina LaManna
“I think I will,” I muttered to Matthew. “Better than the gunk at the office.”
“You love that gunk,” Matthew said. “It’s got character.”
“Well, this,” I said, pouring a smooth, piping hot cup of the stuff, “has taste. Which is infinitely better than character. At least when it comes to coffee.”
Matthew wrinkled his nose. “Your heart beats faster when you drink that garbage.”
“It’s easy to frown upon caffeine when you can’t have it,” I said. “I think synthetic blood is gross, but you don’t see me slamming you for drinking it.”
Matthew’s lips drew to a thin line, but at that moment, the receptionist dinged a little golden bell on her desk and called for our attention.
“Ms. Margaret will see you now,” she said, standing to show off a smart, clearly expensive skirt and shirt combo. “Right this way.”
We followed the trim, beautiful receptionist down a gleaming hallway until a large, heavy wooden door blocked our path. Our guide rested her hand on the outside, and it slid open under her touch. “Please have a seat, and Ms. Margaret will be right with you.”
I glanced down at my golden mug of coffee, debating if I was allowed to ask for a refill. Matthew cleared his throat, as if reading my mind, and I refrained.
“Where should I put this?” I asked instead.
“I’ll take it for you.” The receptionist pulled a handkerchief from her shirt and grasped the handle as if it contained a flesh-eating virus. “Thank you.”
Matthew and I glanced around, waiting for Ms. Margaret while studying the room around us. There were just enough plaques and trophies along the shelves to show her pride for her school, but not so much that it appeared cluttered. There was a delicate nameplate on her desk slathered in gold, and a gorgeous bookshelf built straight into the wall and filled with all sorts of tomes and manuscripts and texts.
I was running my finger along one of the books, scanning the title (Dainty Delicacies of Southern France) when a slight creak alerted me to another’s presence. Pulling my finger from the book, I hid my hand guiltily behind my back as if I were a kid in detention. It took a minute to remember that I was the cop, and I was allowed to be here asking questions.
“Good afternoon, Captain King,” Ms. Margaret said, addressing Matthew first. Then she turned to me. “I see you found something interesting, Detective DeMarco.”
I gave a nod, still too paranoid to open my big fat mouth and get Matthew upset with me all over again. To my surprise, however, he seemed almost as intimidated by the woman as I felt.
Ms. Margaret was slim, like most of the elves, with the customary point to her ears. She wore her silvery hair piled in an intricate braid on her head, and she was dressed in a smart black dress with no-nonsense gold jewelry. She gestured for us to take a seat.
We all sat. Matthew looked extremely uncomfortable in the straight-backed chair, and I took his lingering silence as the cue for me to kick things off.
“Thank you for having us, Ms. Margaret,” I said. “Your school is beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Obviously, we are here for a less-than-pleasant reason,” I said. “We are looking into the disappearance of Linsey Luca.”
“Linsey,” Ms. Margaret said. “Yes. A lovely girl.”
“You saw her last night,” I said. “Can you tell us about it? Everything you can remember, please.”
“As you appear to know, we host monthly galas at the school—a sort of luxury mixer for youths of the Golden District to meet and greet one another, to network and form relationships, and of course to dine and dance and have an enjoyable evening away from their parents.”
“Sounds...” I hesitated, on the verge of saying stifling, but I choked it back and nodded. “What a lovely event.”
Her eyes flicked to me, and I knew she wasn’t fooled. “We have our culture here in the Golden District, especially in Gilded Row, Detective. You may not understand it, but what you find dated and antiquated, we happen to cherish as tradition.”
I blinked. “Including the arranged marriages of eighteen-year-old girls?”
“I do not arrange marriages, and if families choose to do so, that is their right,” Ms. Margaret said briskly. “I, for one, believe it can be a useful tool in society. Regardless, let us return to your question. I did see Linsey last night; however, it was for a brief moment. She wore a beautiful gown as always, and she was an impressive display in the grand march.”
I bit back my thoughts on Linsey being no more than a display, a pretty little thing for people to examine and admire like a gem or a diamond. “After the grand march—did you see her? Did anyone see her?”
“I did not,” Ms. Margaret said. “I have compiled a list of all of the chaperones, as well as a list of our students, for you to have. However, we request you follow up with the chaperones first and leave the students out of this for as long as possible.”
“I think we can agree to that with one caveat,” I said. “We will have to speak to Linsey’s friends. Who does she spend time with at the galas normally?”
“Well, Harry, of course,” Ms. Margaret said. “Her soon-to-be betrothed. However, her best female friends are Marie and Claire. Both girls are Linsey’s age and of Gilded Row. Their families approve of their friendship.”
“Well, that’s great,” I said. “We’re going to need to meet with them.”
“I assumed so,” she said smoothly. “I’ve had them escorted to the school. When I learned of our meeting, I thought it best we take care of any... questioning here.”
I assumed that was code for: We don’t want cops going door-to-door in our gorgeous Gilded Row, but it worked for me. Less traipsing across town meant more time to focus on the case, which was the only thing I cared about.
“After you’re through with them, the rest of our young men and women will be left alone.”
I agreed quickly. “Did you notice anything odd at the gala? Were there any uninvited guests, any disturbances, anything out of the norm?”
“Our galas run with the utmost efficiency,” Ms. Margaret said. “If they didn’t, my name would mean nothing.”
“I understand,” I said. “And if you cooperate, we’ll do our best to keep our interruptions here to a minimum.”
“I am cooperating,” Ms. Margaret said. “I’m letting you talk to the children. When I spoke to the others, we agreed—”
“The others?” I interrupted. “Who did you speak to about this?”
Ms. Margaret held her gaze surprisingly even, though there was a noticeable hesitation in her words. “Yesterday evening when the Luca family Commed to inquire about Linsey, I discussed the oddity with the other chaperones and Mr. Luca. We agreed the other children shouldn’t be involved.”
I glanced over at Matthew, but he didn’t seem keen on her answer, and that made two of us. “Ms. Margaret,” I said, leaning closer to the desk. “It’s very important you tell the truth if we’ve any hope of finding Linsey alive.”
“I’ve nothing to hide,” she said coolly. “A young woman’s life is at stake. You have the full extent of our cooperation.”
“Two elfin women are already dead,” I said. “Linsey will be next. I’m just asking for you to mull that over while we speak with her friends.”
I stood abruptly and stormed to the back of the room. I had nowhere to go because Harry, Marie, and Claire were being brought to the office, so I returned to studying the inane manuscripts (Table Settings for Dinner Parties of the Rich and Famous) while Ms. Margaret and Matthew studied one another in silence.
“Detective DeMarco is correct,” Matthew reiterated. “If we don’t find Linsey soon, she won’t be coming back alive.”
Chapter 4
Matthew studied the three children standing before him in the hallway. Ms. Margaret called them young men and women, but to Matthew they looked like mere babes. It didn’t help that he was centuries old. However, unlike Dani, he understood some things sh
e didn’t when it came to etiquette in the Golden District.
Matthew had been born in an era where courtships were entirely different than in modern society—he’d lived when civilizations had rigid, developed class structures and much was expected of them based solely on bloodlines. He could understand the nuances of Gilded Row in ways that Dani might never be able to comprehend.
“You first,” Matthew said with a nod toward the boy. “Harry, is it? Into the office, please.”
The two girls stood against the wall, eyeing Matthew. Fear radiated from them, as well as wild curiosity. They’d probably never seen a vampire before.
Dani and Ms. Margaret waited in the office while Matthew fetched the boy. Dani looked up, her eyes curiously raking over the young man’s frame, probably finding him far too young for marriage, just as she’d predicted. She was probably correct.
“Have a seat,” Matthew said. “Can we get you something to drink?”
“No, sir,” Harry said. “Is this about Linsey?”
Matthew was impressed by his stoic response. Many adults quaked when they met him, let alone children. Harry didn’t so much as quiver.
“It is,” Matthew said, then he glanced at Ms. Margaret. “Please give us a minute alone.”
“But—”
“We’ll just be a second,” Matthew said gently. “Thank you.”
He waited until Ms. Margaret had stood and moved lithely into the hallway to wait with the other girls. He hadn’t been able to tell whether Ms. Margaret wanted to stick around to ensure Harry’s safety, or if she wanted to make sure he didn’t say anything untoward. Best to get her out of the room either way.
Harry scratched at his wrist as he watched Ms. Margaret leave, her skirt swishing around her ankles as she whisked through the door, pausing for one last glance over her shoulder. Her eyes met Harry’s. Then she disappeared into the hallway.
“What was that?” Matthew asked, nonchalantly resting against the desk while Dani prowled behind the kid. “Ms. Margaret. That look.”
“What look?” Harry chewed on his lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Fine, we’ll go a different route.” Matthew already felt his patience waning, but he worked hard to restrain it. No sense terrifying a child if he didn’t have to. “You’re seventeen, Harry?”
He nodded.
“Set to marry Linsey Luca next year?”
“Umm—” Harry glanced behind him at Dani. “Who told you that?”
“You’ve got royal blood in the elfin district. Doesn’t take anyone to tell me that.” Matthew smiled, deliberately letting the points of his fangs show in a way Dani had told him was “horrifying” to strangers. “I’ve been around awhile, as I’m sure you know. I knew your great grandfather some time ago.”
Harry’s face paled slightly, but he didn’t flinch. Matthew gave him credit for pure bravado.
“I have a lot of respect for you and your family,” Matthew said, “and I don’t want you to get in trouble, but I’m going to need some answers. Whatever Ms. Margaret wants you to keep quiet—I’m going to need to know that too.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry mumbled. “She didn’t give me any look.”
“Alright, let’s come back to that, then,” Matthew said. “How long have you known Linsey?”
“My whole life,” he said. “It’s like you already mentioned. Our families know each other, and we’re set to marry next year.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Feel about what? I don’t feel anything. It’s just the way things are in Gilded Row.”
Dani let out a snort, then muttered a quick apology.
“You’re young,” Matthew prompted. “You haven’t wondered what else might be out there for you?”
Matthew felt Dani’s eyes on him. She knew where he was going with this line of questioning. Judging by the slight inclination of her head toward him, she approved.
“No, sir,” Harry said. “As you mentioned, I’m part of a royal lineage, and I must follow in the family tradition. There are no other options.”
“Unless, maybe, your betrothed was found dead.” Matthew crossed his arms, letting that sink in. Harry was a smart kid. He’d get it. “Then, you might have a little more time while your family searches for your next mate. Isn’t that right?”
Harry frowned first, thinking it through. Matthew watched as the gears clicked into place, and he looked up with understanding, then dismay. “Oh, sir. I would never do anything to harm Linsey!”
“Right,” Matthew said. “Yet, you were one of the last people to see her alive and well before she vanished. For all I know, the two of you don’t even like each other. Getting rid of her might have made things easier all around.”
“You’re wrong—I actually like Linsey!” Harry’s voice hitched slightly, panic setting in. “I didn’t do anything! I didn’t even think—is she dead?”
“You tell me.” Matthew was stretching, making educated guesses, pressing. It was exactly what he did best. He had sympathy for the kid, but he didn’t appreciate liars. And something was in the water of Gilded Row because everyone had a lie on their lips. “Did you meet Linsey’s carriage at the front entrance to the school?”
“Yes, that’s tradition,” Harry said. “I do that every month. I meet her out front. Everyone knows that we’re one another’s perpetual dates. There’s no question about it—for obvious reasons.”
“You entered the school together.”
“Yes. We do this grand march sort of thing where we parade in with our dates. The teachers and Ms. Margaret and the chaperones all watch and greet us. We know they’re examining our every move—the way we dress, wave, talk, smile. It’s all a show, but that’s what Gilded Row is all about.”
“Fair enough,” Matthew said. “Plenty of people saw her at the grand march. What was she wearing?”
The quick change of subject had Harry floundering for an answer. “Er, um. Some jewels, and, uh...” He hesitated, his cheeks pinkening. “She looked beautiful.”
“Sounds like a man in love,” Matthew said dryly. “When I’m in a relationship, I can tell you every detail of the woman I love. I can tell you that her hair curls when it’s damp, and she smiles at me when she thinks I’m not watching her. I can tell you that her fine black dress brings out the violet in her eyes, and I can tell you she smells like honeysuckle and sugar on a summer’s evening.”
Harry watched Matthew, stunned.
Even more stunned was Dani.
Matthew hadn’t meant to get so carried away, but his point had been driven home. He cleared his throat. “So, you’ll have to excuse me, Harry, when I venture a guess to say you’re not in love with Linsey Luca.”
“No,” Harry whispered. “I don’t love her, but I wouldn’t hurt her.”
“I know,” Matthew said. “I don’t think you did, but if you don’t help us, she will die. End of story.”
Harry shifted in his seat. He glanced at the door, antsy, and gave a shake of his head. “I like her, okay? I like her a lot. We’re friends.”
“I believe you,” Matthew said again, soothing, persuasive. He’d pushed, now all he needed to do was sit back, wait, and tease out the rest of the information from Harry. Matthew King hadn’t reached captain because he sucked at his job. “Start talking, and I promise you, Ms. Margaret doesn’t ever have to find out what you told us.”
“You swear it?”
“I won’t make any promises until after I hear what you have to say,” Matthew said. “Because when I do make a promise, I keep it.”
Harry seemed to think that was fair, so he gave a nod. “Linsey hated me. Or, at least, she used to. Despised my guts.” Harry paused, gave a quick smile. “We were both fifteen when we found out we’d be married as soon as we came of age. She didn’t take it well.”
“Finally, someone with a sane reaction,” Dani muttered, only loud enough for Matthew to hear.
“Linsey
was...well, she is very independent.” Harry leaned on the last word, as if even that was being very generous. “She didn’t like being told what to do, and especially not who to marry.”
“Was there someone else?” Matthew asked. “Someone she loved?”
“It wasn’t that,” Harry said, almost wistfully. “It was more about the fact that she didn’t have a choice in the matter. She wanted to be free to travel, to leave Gilded Row, to do all sorts of stuff that other young people get to do. She felt trapped by our impending marriage.”
“You think?” Dani said. “And what about you? Don’t tell me you loved the idea of an early wedding.”
“No, but I have a strong sense of duty,” Harry said. “My family is counting on me to carry on the lineage. Linsey’s a very pretty girl, she comes from a good family. It could have been worse.”
“It could have been worse isn’t exactly a reason most people choose to get married,” Dani said, bringing her pacing to a close as she faced him. She stood at the opposite end of the desk as Matthew, and Harry frequently glanced between them, as if unsure who would fire the next question. “Besides your sense of duty...”
“Okay,” he said. “Fine. Yes. I didn’t love the fact that I was supposed to get married so young, but I wasn’t as opposed to it as Linsey. I’m not as...” He paused, looked down at his fingers. “I’m not as strong willed as her. My father would have been incredibly disappointed in me if I’d done anything to break our legacy, and I wasn’t willing to face that.”
“Linsey was?” Dani asked. “What specifically was she doing to escape?”
Harry shrugged. “I don’t know the details, but we worked out a sort of agreement.”
“Ah,” Dani said knowingly. “And that’s when she stopped hating you.”
“Yes,” Harry said. “Ironically, I would call her my best friend now. You have to find her, Detective. She doesn’t deserve to die.”
“Of course not—she’s just a girl.” Dani frowned. “Was she doing something that might get her in trouble?”
“Well, yeah. If her dad found out she’d been sneaking off, he would’ve handcuffed her to his gilded doorknob until the day of our wedding. Leonard Luca is not an understanding man. My father would have done the same thing. Pride and appearances count for a lot in Gilded Row.”