The woman of the house narrowed her eyes, but shuffled back far enough to allow us entry. Liam went first, and I followed right behind him—just in case Ms. Piper decided to limit the number of house guests.
Scath stayed right behind me as I crossed the threshold to enter the house. Nervous tension rolled off her, and I could only hope it wasn’t having an effect on the kitten in her pouch.
Nikolaos sat in the same chair he’d been in the first time we visited. He wore a lighter suit this time, a pale grey that reminded me of the sky just after a rain. He smoothed his hands down the lapels of his jacket as he offered our group an easy smile.
“How may I help—”
“You have excellent timing, Osbourne,” Stafford interrupted. “I was just telling Sideris here that I have news about that werewolf you’re looking for. Connor. The one who killed Jamila.”
“Yeah, we know,” Liam said tightly. “We found his body last night. Which you would know if you’d answered your phone.”
Nikolaos blinked. “Wait. You mean, you found Jamila’s murderer? And he’s dead?” He sat forward in his seat. “Who is this Connor? What could he have possibly had against Jamila?”
Stafford grinned, baring more teeth than was appropriate when talking of the dead.
“What’s so amusing, Detective?” I asked.
“Don’t look at me like that, Ms. Renard,” Detective Stafford objected. “There’s no shame in being happy a murderer is dead. You saw what he did to Jamila. Don’t tell me you’ll lose sleep over his death?”
“You came here to tell Mr. Sideris that Connor is dead?” Liam asked. He narrowed his eyes. “How did you know Connor was dead?”
“I’m a detective,” Stafford said soberly. He clapped Liam on the shoulder, staring into his eyes as if he were a father figure in an old movie about to impart wisdom to his son. “But no, that’s not the reason I came here. I came to tell Mr. Sideris that despite his assurances that he has Jamila’s legal paperwork, I was strangely unable to find her in the system.” He looked at Nikolaos. “Why do you suppose that is?”
Nikolaos tapped one finger on the arm of his chair. “As it happens, I looked for that paperwork after you left last time.” He stretched out his arm, forcing up the sleeve of his business suit to look at the gold watch on his wrist. “If you could just wait a few more minutes.”
The front door opened and closed. A man’s shoes struck the ceramic tile with quick, angry steps. I knew who it would be before I turned around.
Charity Moghadam looked as happy to see us as he had last time. He stared at Detective Stafford’s hand still resting on Liam’s shoulder, his lip curling into a sneer.
“Mr. Moghadam, thank you for coming on such short notice,” Nikolaos said, standing to greet his newest visitor.
“It’s amazing to me,” Moghadam started, “that even in the middle of a murder investigation, law enforcement still manages to make the time to persecute those who are guilty of nothing more than wanting a better life.”
“Mr. Moghadam,” Liam said, “I—”
“You’re here for Jamila’s paperwork,” the lawyer cut him off. “I know. Nikolaos told me when he called and asked me to come.”
Nikolaos leaned down and opened his planner, removing a small stack of documents. “Here’s the paperwork Foundations provided me for Jamila,” he said, handing them to Moghadam. “I had no reason to question them. I asked for all the papers I’m required to get.”
Moghadam quickly read over the papers, dark eyes flicking from one page to the other. After a long minute, he nodded. “These all seem to be in order. If they are fake, then they’re good.” He looked at Liam. “Mr. Sideris hired Jamila in good faith believing she had the legal right to work here. If you insist on pursuing this, he’ll get off with a warning. This is a first time—”
“What about Renee?” Liam asked. “Where’s her paperwork?”
Moghadam didn’t flinch. “As Mr. Sideris hired them both from the same company, whether or not Renee’s paperwork turns out to be falsified, it will still be considered a single infraction as far as Mr. Sideris goes.” He put his hands behind his back and straightened his spine, so as to better look down his nose at us. “If that’s all…?”
“Mr. Sideris, do you employ any other women from Foundations?” I asked.
“No,” Nikolaos said. “Just Jamila and Renee. I didn’t have any other tasks that would give them the kind of valuable experience Foundations wants their ladies to gain.”
“Gardening is valuable experience?” Liam asked.
“Renee is not just a gardener,” Nikolaos corrected him. “She’s a landscape artist. She was redesigning my gardens. The last time we spoke, she was making a model for a water feature. She seemed to think the backyard would be a lovely serenity garden.”
“Is there a purpose to these questions?” Mr. Moghadam interrupted. “I do have other work to do. So if you’re not going to ask Mr. Sideris anything of a criminal nature, then perhaps you could leave now and let us all get on with our business?”
“Mr. Sideris isn’t the only one with a connection to Foundations.” Liam took a step closer to the lawyer, prompting him to drop his hands to his sides as if resisting the urge to step back. “Tell me, Mr. Moghadam, you were very interested in negotiating citizenship for Renee. Is that why you were meeting with her? Did you know that her papers were fake, and you were trying to help her get a legitimate work visa?”
“I will not discuss my clients with you,” Moghadam said stiffly.
“Was Renee the only woman from Foundations you took on as a client?” I asked.
Now it was my turn for a glare. “As I said not ten seconds ago, Ms. Renard, I will not discuss my clients. If you don’t have any questions that would not violate attorney client privilege—”
“I don’t think you understand what’s going on here,” I interrupted. “Someone is bringing these women into the country illegally. One of these women disobeyed him, and for that, she was murdered not a block away from her fellow prisoners, her screams broadcast into their dreams so they might all know what waited for anyone else who dares to cross him.”
Nikolaos sat up straighter. “Their dreams?”
“He’s terrorizing them,” I said evenly. “Renee would have heard it too. She would have heard her friend die, and still she had to pretend not to know she was dead the first time we talked to her.”
“You are remarkably defensive of Renee considering what happened the last time you were here,” Nikolaos commented.
“That wasn’t her.” I glared at Moghadam. “That was the Emperor.”
There. Something in the lawyer’s eyes. His face remained a perfect mask of the disdain I’d come to expect from him, but his eyes burned at the mention of the Emperor.
“You’ve heard of him,” I said softly.
“Mr. Sideris, unless you need anything more from me, I really should get back to my office?” Moghadam said, turning his back to me.
Nikolaos’ gaze darted between me and his lawyer. “If you know anything about this Emperor, you should tell them, Charity. Maybe they can—”
“I’ll be on my way then.”
I stared as Moghadam turned on his heel and left.
Nikolaos stood. “Detective Sergeant Osbourne, if I might have a private word?”
I bristled at being excluded from whatever information the hedge fund manager had to share, but I didn’t say anything. Liam would tell me later regardless, and now was not the time to teach Nikolaos a lesson in manners.
“Well, it seems like you’ve got things well in hand,” Detective Stafford said finally. “I’ll just head back to the station. Lots of paperwork covering up a werewolf death, you know.”
“You’re leaving?” I raised my eyebrows. “What exactly have you been doing since we saw you yesterday?”
Detective Stafford tried to cross his arms again, and again he failed. “Ms. Renard, please don’t question the way I do my job. I know I’m not a pow
erful psychic with my own temple and priestesses to make my appointments for me, but I do have some skill, and I use it to the best of my ability. I told you I had a vision of Connor. I didn’t know it was Connor at first, obviously, but I did what I could to figure it out. And yes, it took some time.”
“But you didn’t call us when you discovered Connor was dead,” I pointed out. “Or even when you figured out who Connor was. All we had yesterday was a name and your hunch he was in the military.”
Stafford stiffened. “Well, I’m sorry my abilities don’t live up to your standards. Not all of us were trained by Baba Yaga.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How did you know that?”
Stafford threw out his arms, eyes bulging in indignation. “I’m a detective. Why does no one get that?”
“Okay, fine, I’m sorry I belittled your abilities.” I drummed my fingers on top of my waist pouch. “I forgot to ask you this yesterday. Whose purse was it you touched? Do you know?”
“Renee’s,” Stafford said.
“But Renee was here. Why would her purse be at Foundations?”
“Maybe it wasn’t hers,” Stafford said. He grabbed his keys out of his pocket. “I told you before, but maybe you need to hear me say it again. My visions are not very detailed. I do what I can, but most of the time they’re just feelings, hunches. Obviously not up to your standards.”
“Detective Stafford,” I started.
He shook his head and marched for the exit. “Goodbye, Ms. Renard. Obviously you don’t need someone as weak as me to find your all-powerful Emperor.”
Before I could stop Stafford, Nikolaos came back into the room. He arched an eyebrow at the retreating detective. “Problems?”
“Not exactly.” I huffed out a breath, then frowned when I noticed Liam wasn’t with Nikolaos. “Where’s Liam?”
“Ah, yes. My apologies for drawing your partner away and leaving you, that was rude. But it was necessary as I needed someone to keep Detective Stafford from following us.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to mention to Detective Sergeant Osbourne that if he wanted to speak with Mr. Moghadam and actually stand a chance of getting him to do more than grunt and bark legal threats, he might want to try speaking to him away from Detective Stafford.”
“I see.” I shared a look with Scath. The sidhe stood near the center of the room, trying to keep an eye on both the front door and the sliding glass door that led to the garden. “Mr. Moghadam and Detective Stafford have bad blood?”
“Not exactly. Let’s just say that Detective Stafford and Mr. Moghadam do not see eye to eye on political matters. Particularly those around immigration, and more specifically, the recent misfortune of the Syrian refugees.” He pressed his lips together, and for a moment, he didn’t hide his annoyance. “Detective Stafford has made some very unfortunate statements in front of Mr. Moghadam and his clients.”
“In that case, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Sideris, I think I’ll join my partner and see if I can’t convince Mr. Moghadam we don’t share Detective Stafford’s views.”
“Good luck, Ms. Renard.”
I thanked him again, then headed for the front door. The smell of falling leaves swirled around me as I found Liam sitting in his truck. He gestured for me and Scath to get in quickly, and we shared a look before climbing in. I glanced out the rear windshield in time to see Mr. Moghadam’s car pulling into the road.
“Did he talk to you?” I asked.
“Not yet, but we’re meeting him at Goodfellows.”
I put my seatbelt on, then looked up at Liam. “Why are we meeting him there?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care as long as he talks to us.” He started the engine, then glanced at me. “Stafford left in a hurry.”
“Yeah, he and I had a little chat. He’s very defensive about the limits of his abilities.”
Liam pulled into the road, and I winced as a ray of sunlight struck me in the eye. I groped for the sun visor, only to be reminded that sun visors weren’t made for people under five foot six. I grumbled under my breath and hoped tomorrow would have a proper fall sky. Something grey.
“You sound like you think Stafford protests too much,” Liam observed.
“I think he’s hiding something. I just don’t know what.” I leaned back in my seat. “Did you see the way he smiled after we mentioned Connor was dead?”
“I’ll call my people I left at Fortuna’s and see if anyone saw him around. I want to know how he knew Connor was dead.”
I stilled. “Maybe he didn’t.” I turned in my seat. “Maybe he didn’t know until you said that, then he just played along.”
“But he mentioned Connor first. He said he’d come to tell Sideris about him. If he wasn’t talking about Connor being dead, then what information could he have had about him that he’d share with Sideris?”
I considered that for the rest of the drive to Goodfellows, but by the time we got there, I still hadn’t come up with anything. Maybe Moghadam would know something.
It was almost eleven o’ clock, and my stomach growled as we entered Goodfellows and I took a breath of air that smelled of seasoned meat and drinks with too much sugar.
“We’ll order food while we’re here,” Liam said. “If today turns out anything like yesterday, I need a full stomach.”
I spotted Moghadam sitting in a booth against the wall, and we headed over. I arched an eyebrow as I noticed there were two cups of tea sitting across from the lawyer.
“Drink,” Moghadam demanded, gesturing at the tea.
“Um, no?” Peasblossom said. “My witch wasn’t born yesterday, you know.”
Moghadam gave me a withering look, as if he thought I was the one who’d spoken. “We’re in Goodfellows, Ms. Renard. Do you really think I would poison you here and risk the consequences of violating the law of neutral territory?”
Coming right out and saying I didn’t trust him seemed to be the wrong tone to set for the meeting. Fortunately, at that moment I glanced up and saw my favorite waitress, Alexandra, standing behind the bar. She gestured to the two cups of tea and gave me a thumbs up. I smiled and lifted the tea cup.
“Think of Detective Stafford,” Moghadam instructed.
Liam sniffed his mug, but then followed suit. Moghadam sat there with his arms crossed as we drank, fingers drumming impatiently on his opposite arm. When we were finished, he snatched up the mugs and peered into the bottoms.
I didn’t know how to read tea leaves. Just a few basic shapes, nothing you couldn’t get from the newspaper horoscope. But whatever Moghadam saw seemed to satisfy him.
“I won’t violate attorney client privilege,” he said finally. “But there’s no harm in talking in generalities.” He crossed his hands and leaned forward. “I don’t know how much you know about what’s happening in Syria right now, but you should know that none of the refugees you see on your news media are coming here because they want to. No one thought, ‘Gee, wouldn’t it be great to be an American?’ They come here because they want to survive. They want their children to survive.”
“I once left behind everything I’d ever known,” I said quietly. “But I did it because I wanted to. Because I was following a new purpose. And still it was so hard. I can’t imagine having to do it because I had no choice.”
Moghadam nodded. “It’s important to keep that in mind in order to understand why so many are willing to risk coming here illegally. And risk relying on horrible, predatory people, even when they’ve heard the stories of those before them who lived to regret it. They are brought here and used in ways that would break your spirit to hear them. Trapped with the knowledge that they are illegal, and thus there is no law to protect them.”
He pressed his lips together and took a slow breath through his nose. “You can see it. It’s in their eyes. You can see when someone isn’t free.” He leaned back in his seat. “It’s why I started getting involved with charitable events. You would not bel
ieve how many of the rich and powerful give to charity not because of any altruistic intention, but to soothe their own guilty consciences. I move about them, excused for my skin color because I have money and power. They welcome me into their homes, and I can see for myself if their house is built on the backs of others.”
“Is that why you were at Nikolaos’?” I asked. “To see if he was mistreating Renee and Jamila?”
Moghadam frowned. “I was never certain about Nikolaos. He always seemed to treat Renee and Jamila with respect and kindness, but there was no mistaking the fear in their eyes. It’s why I approached Renee. She was often outside, and it was easy to talk to her without worrying we’d be overheard.” He shook his head. “Even alone, she never truly opened up to me. I only continued to meet with her because of the hope in her eyes when I offered to help her get a green card. But if what you said is true, if this Emperor is terrorizing them, then that could very well be it.”
“So you knew her papers were fake?” Liam asked.
Moghadam hesitated. “I will neither confirm, nor deny that. Please understand, I’ll help if I can because I want this shameful practice to stop, but I cannot violate attorney-client privilege.”
“It would have helped if you’d let us talk to Renee before,” I pointed out.
“Ms. Renard, I worked very hard to earn Renee’s trust,” Moghadam said coldly. “I was not going to lose it by encouraging her to speak to law enforcement, especially about a situation that could have—and, in fact, did—lead to an examination of her papers. If you’d truly wanted to talk to her, you could have granted my conditions. That would have truly protected her.”
Liam leaned back in his seat. I could almost see the thoughts playing across his face as he debated whether or not to press for another meeting with Renee. Possibly tell Moghadam about the strange phone call.
“What do you know about the Emperor?” Moghadam asked.
“Not much,” Liam said bitterly. He gestured at the tea mugs. “I don’t suppose you can ask the tea leaves how to find him?”
Moghadam gave Liam a narrow-eyed look, as if trying to tell if the alpha was mocking him or not. “The leaves reflect the individual who drink the tea. They are not crystal balls.”
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