Something rubbed against my leg. I looked down and saw a skinny, black cat. “Hey, dude. Are you okay?”
The animal was wearing a red collar with a silver disc hanging off it. I bent down (which did not help the nausea) and checked the tag. It took a moment for my eyes to focus, but I managed to read it. I looked at the cat. “Your name is Spider?”
He (Spider sounded like a boy’s name) trilled at me, so I took that for a yes. Then he cried again, a long plaintive wail that dug into my heart.
“What’s the matter, little man?”
He trotted off toward the kitchen. I stood and bit my lip. I’d only come to check on him, not traipse through a co-worker’s place. But there seemed to be no one home.
I went after Spider and found him standing in front of two dishes. One was empty and one had a small puddle of stale-looking water in it. Whoever owned this cat wasn’t taking very good care of him. “Okay, you’re hungry. And probably thirsty, huh?”
I gave the water dish a good rinse, then filled it and put it back. Spider started drinking immediately. “Wow. You needed that.”
On second glance, the apartment looked more than unoccupied. It felt abandoned. There was a fine layer of dust on the surfaces and a mustiness to the air. A hunch made me open the trash can lid. A paper plate lay on top of the garbage. It held the crusts of a sandwich, and the bread was speckled with mold.
How long had this poor cat been in here by himself?
Spider looked up from his water dish and meowed. He was still hungry. I glanced at a stack of mail on the counter and checked the name. Bertie Springle. The last employee to quit. Poor cat. Unless whoever lived here was holding Bertie’s mail, Spider’s owner wasn’t ever coming back.
I took a quick stroll through the apartment. Other than the dust and staleness, it looked like someone had just stepped out.
Weird.
Twenty minutes later, Spider, his bowls, his toys, his bed, his litter box, and the bag of dry food I’d found were in my apartment and I was back on the globe with my dad.
“What’s up? Find out something already?”
“Sort of. Can you confirm that Bertie Springle was in apartment 2C? His dossier doesn’t list that info.”
“I have that file in my office. Give me a moment.”
I waited, watching parts of the house go by as he carried the globe into his office. He set the globe at the front of his desk, found the file, and flipped through it.
He looked up. “Yep. Bertie Springle. 2C.”
“The last one to go missing. How long ago did he disappear?”
My father glanced at the file again. “Five days.”
“Wow.” Spider was in the kitchen, still chowing down. My heart twanged at the thought of him all alone in that apartment with nothing to eat. “No wonder his poor cat was so hungry.”
“What?”
I explained to my dad about Spider and the apartment. “I’ll keep him in case Bertie shows up, but don’t you think it’s odd that he’d leave his pet behind if he was just changing jobs? Actually, it’s odd anyone would leave a pet behind for any reason.”
“Very.” My dad’s brows pulled together. “Anything else odd?”
“There’s a lot of stuff still in that apartment. Clothes, mail, personal stuff. That’s all strange to me. No one moves without taking their things.”
He nodded. “Not generally, no.”
“Did anyone else leave their possessions behind?”
“We don’t have any records on that, just who quit, when, and the note they left.”
“Any chance the notes are forged?”
“No. We had the handwriting matched to samples in their files.”
“So much for that idea.” I sighed. “It’s weird. Almost like…I don’t know, he left without knowing he was going to leave.” Except for the note.
“That doesn’t sound good.” He frowned. “Be careful, Jay.”
“I won’t do anything stupid, Dad.”
“I’m not worried about what you might do so much as what whoever’s behind this might do once you start poking around.”
“I’ll stay in touch. And watch my back.”
He smiled a little reluctantly. “Do you remember any of those self-defense lessons?”
“Some.” I’d taken the class only because my mother had thought it was a good idea before I went off to college. “But I’m not going to need them.” I wouldn’t. My magical powers packed a much bigger punch.
“I hope not. Don’t be afraid to use the full extent of your magic if need be.”
“I won’t. Talk to you soon.” I pushed the button on the back of the globe and ended the conversation. I’d been here for only a few hours. I wasn’t ready to get called home just yet because my dad thought I was in danger.
I sat back on the couch and put my feet on the coffee table. This place was nicer than my North Pole digs. (No, I didn’t live in the palace. I’m a grown woman. I have my own place.) And Nocturne Falls was considerably warmer.
Spider walked over, jumped onto the cushion next to me and settled in to clean himself.
The poor, sad baby. He must have been freaked out being alone so long. “Get enough to eat, little one?”
He stuck one leg into the air and licked the back of his thigh.
“Show-off.” I scratched his head. He stopped licking long enough to lean in and enjoy the attention. “Bad news, Spider. Bertie’s most likely not coming back. Good news is, you’re welcome to stay with me as long as you like. Is that cool with you?”
He started purring. Good enough for me. And just like that, I had a cat. I gave him one more scratch then left him to his bath and got up to look out the window.
Huh. There was an old-fashioned fire escape out there. It was just enough to be a little balcony. Or sneak guests in. I laughed at the thought. Maybe I’d put a potted plant out there. Catnip for Spider. I could see myself sitting out there, catching some rays. You know, if I was actually going to be staying here.
I wouldn’t be sitting out there now anyway. The sun had set, and from the small slice of Main Street I could see, the town looked to be getting busier. I knew I had work tomorrow first thing, but I suddenly wasn’t the least bit tired. Napping on the plane combined with the time difference meant I was wide awake.
I should go out and meet some locals. See if I could pick up any chatter about other town residents mysteriously picking up and leaving. Maybe this wasn’t happening only at Santa’s Workshop.
Or maybe I should have one night of fun before the real work began.
Right after I unpacked. I knocked that out pretty quickly, using the time to make my plans for the evening. I decided to go with a night of fun seeing as how it could do double duty as a chance to research the town. Pleased with my own cleverness, I got ready.
The shower was a revelation of marble, glass, and double-headed sprayers that never ran out of hot water. Any lingering travel weariness went right down the drain. I was ready to get out and see Nocturne Falls at night.
Catching sight of myself in the mirror gave me a little shock. The bracelet I wore turned my long, deep blue hair to white blond, shortened my nose and turned it up at the end and made my gray eyes ice blue. My cheekbones seemed a little higher and my chin had a hint of a cleft. My ears looked pretty much the same. That was nice.
And while I was cute, I definitely wasn’t the highly recognizable Winter Princess anymore. That was kind of fun. I could be whoever I wanted. People would no longer react to me because of my status.
But looking at myself like this made me feel like I was wearing a mask I couldn’t take off. It was oddly claustrophobic. I decided to avoid mirrors as much as possible for the duration and just enjoy the side benefits of being a regular, non-royal elf.
That made my makeup application quick. I dried my hair, threw on a different pair of black jeans, a white T-shirt covered in small iridescent crystals, my old leather jacket, and boots. I didn’t know where I was going, but I
looked chillacious.
I did a runway walk through the living room. “What do you think, Spider?”
He was asleep, bless his little cat heart. Probably worn out from eating so much. Or worrying. He might have starved to death if I hadn’t found him. On that note, I refilled his food dish to the top. I hoped he wouldn’t wake up and think he’d been abandoned again, but leaving a note was kind of pointless.
I tucked some cash, my phone, and my Lilibeth Holiday credit card and ID in the inside pocket of my leather jacket and headed out.
On my way through the vestibule, I stopped in front of the elevator I wasn’t supposed to touch. It only had one button.
I pushed it.
No response. Then I noticed the keycard reader next to the button. No wonder it hadn’t worked for me.
I could use my magic and slip through the crack of the doors, but if there wasn’t a car waiting on the other side for me to materialize into, I would fall.
Not worth the risk.
I walked outside and was greeted with a beautiful April evening. I drifted onto Main Street, peering into shop windows and people watching. I got a couple of “nice ears” comments, but they weren’t snarky.
Apparently, having pointed ears in this town was a plus.
I was hoping to find a spot crawling with supernaturals, which I guess made me a tourist of a different kind, but the best I could do was a local bar and grill called Howler’s. I went in and found a seat at the bar. For a Tuesday, the place was decently busy.
As the pretty redheaded bartender approached, I knew I wasn’t too far off the mark when it came to finding a place that catered to non-humans. She was some kind of supernatural. Elves can usually spot other supernaturals, but we don’t have the skill set for determining what specific kind they are unless they’re also elves.
She put a square napkin in front of me. “Welcome to Howler’s, I’m Bridget. Would you like a menu or just something to drink?”
I hadn’t been hungry until she brought up food. “I’ll look at a menu. And I’ll have a mojito. If you have those.”
She smiled. “We do. Preference on the rum?”
“Whatever you think is good.” The main drinks at the Pole were mulled wine, spiked eggnog and hard cider. I was ready for anything else. And how wrong could you go with rum, mint and sugar?
She handed me a menu from underneath the counter. “Be right back with that drink.”
I perused the offerings, settled on lobster mac-n-cheese, and then took a look around. There were other supernaturals in the place, but there was a good mix of humans too. This definitely wasn’t a supernaturals-only spot.
When she returned with the drink, I ordered the meal, but lowered my voice with my next question. “I’m new in town. Could you tell me if there’s a place that’s only for people like us?”
She glanced at my ears and smiled. “Let me guess. A friend of Willa’s?”
None of the missing elves had been named Willa that I could remember. “Sorry, I don’t know who that is. I’m a new hire at Santa’s Workshop.”
“Oh, elf, not fae. Got it. You want something a little more exclusive, try Insomnia. Just a sec.” She grabbed another square napkin and jotted down an address. “I don’t go there very often—too busy—but you have to be…one of us to get in.”
I took the napkin and tucked it in with my phone and ID. “Thank you.”
“Sure thing. Welcome to Nocturne Falls. Holler if you need anything else. I’m going to get your order in.”
“Thanks, Bridget.” I still didn’t know what kind of supernatural she was, but she’d been kind and given me the info I’d wanted. While I waited on my food, I wondered if she knew anything about the missing elves. Bartenders were pretty connected. But then the place got busier and it didn’t seem like the right time to ask those sorts of questions.
I ate the mac-n-cheese, which was really good, then called a Ryde to come get me. According to my phone, Insomnia was a few miles away and too much to walk. I paid my bill, thanked Bridget and went to the curb to wait.
My Ryde showed up a few minutes later, making me very thankful I’d signed up for the car service before coming here. I had a driver’s license (Alaskan) but that was all for show and had been magically attained. I really had no idea how to operate a vehicle that wasn’t a sleigh or snowmobile, and since this town was short on both, I was happy to let someone else drive.
I got in, sat back and tried not to fidget. Something told me it was going to be an interesting evening.
The Ryde driver pulled into a parking lot filled with high-end foreign sedans and a couple of higher-end sports cars, then rolled to a stop in front of a set of rusty double doors.
I squinted up through the SUV’s window at the building attached to those doors. Faded paint spelled out the name Caldwell Manufacturing on the old brick structure that looked only slightly younger than Uncle Kris. This was taking the industrial thing to a whole new level. I leaned toward the driver. “Can you stick around until I poke my head inside?”
He nodded.
I jumped out and tried one of the rusty doors. It opened smoothly, not at all like it was on the verge of decaying off its hinges. But then all those cars in the lot had to belong to someone, right? So where were those people?
I went inside and figured out the answer on my own. Past the rows of machinery and worktables dusty with disuse, a buff dude in a black suit stood guard next to a shiny steel elevator. Had to be a doorman.
The odors of dust and grease accompanied the utter stillness of the place. I gave the doorman a little wave. “This is Insomnia, right? Bridget from Howler’s sent me.”
To my relief, he smiled. “You got the right place.”
“Thanks. Let me tell my driver he can go.” My driver. That sounded so fancy.
I gave the Ryde guy a thumbs up that all was well and headed back inside to the snazzy freight elevator and the built doorman. There was a keypad by the buttons, but maybe the doorman punched in the code. Or maybe he turned over the code once I forked over the price of admission. Hmm. I wondered if he had access to the restricted elevator in the warehouse. But now wasn’t the time for that. “Is there a cover?”
He nodded. “Fifty.”
That was a little steep. “No discount for women?” Even the clubs in the NP had ladies’ night.
He smiled. “That is the discount.”
“Got it.” I reached into my jacket pocket, not sure I had that much cash on me. “Do you want to see ID too?”
“You smell like elf and your ears confirm it, so we’re good there.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been told I ‘smell like elf’ before. I hope that’s a good thing.”
His eyes took on a feral gold gleam. Probably shifter of some kind. “It’s not a bad thing.”
Was he flirting with me? That was…new. And sort of fun. I pulled out the wad of cash I’d tucked in my pocket. I had two tens, a five and a couple singles. So much for covering the cover charge, but that’s all I’d had in my wallet. I should have asked my dad for some petty cash before I’d left. I sighed. “I don’t have enough cash for the cover. Do you take credit cards?”
“Put her on my account.”
I almost jumped. The voice had come out of nowhere. And what a nice voice it was, sort of softly Irish and a little gravelly.
The doorman stiffened, his nod as respectful as a nod could be. “Done, Mr. Garrett.”
I turned to see who Mr. Garrett was.
My first guess was Johnny Depp’s taller, cleaner cousin, but last I checked, Mr. Depp didn’t have fangs. I didn’t need to be hit with a snowball to know what that meant. Garrett was a vampire. And an incredibly gorgeous one at that.
He looked exactly like a vampire should look, as far as I was concerned. Lean and broody, his wavy, black hair curled around his face in little points to highlight the dusting of stubble covering his strong jaw, the hollows of his sculpted cheekbones, and his incredible piercing eyes. Tiny si
lver hoops hung from his ears, and his black dress shirt was unbuttoned more than was civil, allowing silver chains and the pale vee of his chest to peek out. The only spot of color on his outfit was the long ivory scarf hung around his neck, like he’d just escaped an insufferable opera.
I swallowed and found my voice. “Thank you.”
He smiled, showing off those fangs a little more, and held out his hand. “My pleasure. Greyson Garrett, at your service. And you are?”
Mesmerized by a voice that sounds like silk drawn over steel and dusted with the lilt of the Irish. I reached to shake his hand, but he captured my fingers, turned my palm down and brought my knuckles to his mouth, brushing his warm lips over my skin while his eyes gleamed silver and arrowed into me.
Tendrils of heat curled through me, and my mind went blank with sensation. Was this some kind of vampire magic? He’d asked me a question, but I had no earthly idea what he’d said, just that he smelled like cinnamon. I knew it was wrong to want to lick someone I’d just met, but the urge was definitely present.
“Hi.” I somehow kept my tongue in my mouth.
His grin widened. “Hello. Your name?”
Oh yeah. My name. Who was I again? “Lilibeth Holiday.”
“Lilibeth.” The way the word rolled off his tongue, I almost wished it was the name I actually answered to. “Shall we?”
He could have asked me to do just about anything right then, and I would have said yes. “Sure.” In a genuine Christmas miracle, I remembered my manners. “And thank you again, that was very kind of you to take care of the cover for me. I have the money, just not on me. I’m happy to pay you back.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Greyson nodded at the bouncer. “Chet, if you would.”
The doorman leaned over and punched a code into the keypad next to the elevator. The whirr of gears echoed through the warehouse, and the down button lit up blue.
When the doors opened, we stepped in, and Greyson pressed the only button on the panel. Fortunately it was a quick ride that required no small talk, but allowed me to enjoy his hotness close up. It didn’t disappoint. When the doors reopened, I shifted my gaze to the club. My mouth fell open in wonder.
Miss Frost Solves A Cold Case Page 3