by Emma Nichols
I grabbed him by the bicep and dragged him to a chair in the living room. “Sit,” I ordered. Once he had complied, I continued. “What do you remember? One piece at a time. You came downstairs and…” I struggled to jog his memory.
Stephen’s eyes narrowed. “Miss Peri was trying to leave.” He tugged on his beard while staring off into the distance. “Then I stopped her.”
My brows rose. “Obviously not. What else do you remember?” My hands fisted at my sides as I struggled to keep my dragon in check.
His head tilted to the side and he rubbed his forehead. Slowly, his hand slid over to his temple. “She touched me.”
I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. “Where? Where did she touch you?” The idea of my mate being even in platonic contact with anyone burned me up.
“Here.” Stephen tapped his temple a few times. “Then she said something about leaving and me letting her and how we’d talk when she returned.” He shrugged. “That’s all I know. Then I didn’t want to stop her anymore.
“Neat parlor trick,” I mumbled as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Fredo again.
"Sir?" I could hear the concern in Fredo's voice.
"What's Peri's power?" I had decided in the time it took for the phone to ring that I wasn't going to mince words. There was no time for pleasantries. I dropped hard into the wooden chair at the head of the table and waited for him to respond.
He sighed. "She hates it, sir."
"Okay, I get that, but she's currently being held by the police so I need to know how much trouble she's in." I covered my eyes with my hands and leaned my elbows on the hard surface. Inside, I felt like I had a giant festering wound. The longer we were apart and the more I worried, the worse I felt. Still, how was I supposed to react? Given the circumstances, how was I supposed to remain calm and controlled?
Fredo swallowed hard. "She calls it mind manipulation. She detests everything about it, the very word upsets her. She greatly dislikes tampering with anyone's head. Although, there have been times it has come in rather handy." He sighed.
I ran my tongue over my teeth. "Can she use it on me?"
He laughed. "No, sir. Dragons are immune to this. Maybe it's because you're so strong-willed. Maybe it's because you're a magical creature. I have no idea, but she has talked to me about her gift before."
I leaned back, my curiosity aroused. "What did she say?"
"Well," Fredo began slowly, "she worried she'd never find love. She feared she'd accidentally use her gift to make some poor man love her. This was one of the reasons she decided to work for the Dracos, surrounded by dragons. She liked knowing she could do no harm."
I thought about the story she told me. "That sounds like Peri. So, I guess it's a good thing we're to be mated." I grinned. "And I'm glad she can't even accidentally influence my will."
"Her boss, Devon Draco, he didn't always believe she wasn't manipulating him. At least not at first, but then he saw her in action and finally accepted her claim." He sighed.
"In action?" I frowned.
"There was an incident. Some lawyer ended up irate for some reason. Devon began to get upset, which could’ve ended badly, as you well know." He huffed.
"So, what happened?" Getting the full story from Fredo was much like pulling teeth.
"Oh, she had to calm the lawyer down. I don't remember his name. The guy never figured out what she did, but he felt manipulated in some way and loathed her ever since," Fredo muttered.
"Was it Spencer?" I wondered. "The lawyer. Was that his name?"
"Could be. Sounds familiar." Fredo swallowed hard. "Don’t worry, Mr. Draco. You'll find her. You'll save her."
"I have no doubt," I responded. "Of course, if anyone harms a hair on her head, who's going to save them from me?"
Fredo chuckled. "Why...Peri, of course."
In my mind, I could see her, flashing her smile…the one that pierced my heart, staring at me with those violet eyes, and then arguing with me over God knows what. Inhaling deeply, I felt somewhat better. "Thank you, Fredo. I'm going to call the police station and see what I can find out. I'll be in touch soon."
"You're welcome, Mr. Draco. Happy to help."
I ended the call and searched for the number to the police station, but before I could hit the button to connect, my phone began to ring and I recognized Adam's extension. "Why did you find out?" I bit my lip and struggled to hide my fear. Ever since Peri had disappeared, I'd been filled with a nagging doubt, concern over her safety.
"Well, sir," Adam began with a serious edge to his voice. "You're not going to like it."
"Right. Continue." I rubbed my eyes and tried to remain calm, but I could feel the burning in my gut and decided to grab a glass of water just to be safe. While I made my way to the kitchen, he started to relay what he'd discovered.
"So, the Reclaim the Kingdom Project is actually a fake 403b. It's not really a charity at all."
"I'm shocked," I murmured.
"It seems to be the account where all the money from the recent Draco deaths ends up. Oddly enough, each of the Dracos essentially had the same will, which specified that in the event of their untimely death, their entire estate would go to this so-called charity."
"Any idea who runs it?" I grumbled before swallowing a few swigs of water.
"Actually, yes. And here's where it gets interesting," he added.
"Right, because it wasn't interesting before," I mumbled. "Go on."
Adam ignored me and finished relaying his information. "The director is Spencer Morse, who is..."
I set my cup on the counter so hard, I expected it to break. "One of the partners in Abingdon, Betters, and Morse.”
“So, you know them.” He sounded more confident now that he’d shared all the connections.
“Yes, and now I really have to go.” I ended the call, stuffed the phone in my pocket and gathered my hair into a quick bun.
Stephen walked up behind me. “What’s going on?”
I whipped around and frowned. “Peri’s in danger.”
Peri
* * *
“If I’m not under arrest, you wanna explain the handcuffs?” I grumbled as the officer removed them. We had arrived at the station. I’d been immediately ushered into a room for questioning. Then the officer disappeared without a word and had left me sitting ever since.
While I sat there, for what seemed like forever, but was probably more like twenty minutes, I thought about everything that had happened the last twenty-four hours and struggled to piece it all together. Who could’ve done this? I rubbed my temples as I tried to recall the evening in detail. We’d arrived early Friday night. I spent Saturday morning working on the seating arrangements, the music, and ensuring the set-up on the lawn was precisely how I’d envisioned it. Devon mostly slept in late and hobnobbed with the guests as they arrived. Then it was time to get ready, and the will signing. There was something in his eyes, like he was already nervous then. What had he figured out that I was missing? Judging by the papers I’d never seen before, even though I knew some details, he certainly hadn’t shared everything. I sighed. Wouldn’t it be just like Devon to protect me right to the bitter end?
The door opened while I sat there rubbing my eyes, promising myself I wouldn’t cry. It took everything in me to not jump and study the man who’d entered the room. Chances are I’d only find out it was Detective Jeffries anyway. And he seemed like a serious asshole. I slowly leaned on my elbow and stared across the table at the man I expected.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions,” Jeffries commented while looking through the file folder in front of him. From the tab, I could see it was Devon’s and my frown deepened.
“Me,” I grumbled. “I’m dying to know how I became a person of interest.”
He closed the folder and laid it on the table in front of him. I could read the disgust in his eyes. “You were spotted running from the scene of the crime. That should be obvious.”
I shook my h
ead. “Well, you’re half right.”
His brows shot up. “Half right? How’s that?” He folded his hands on the table.
“I was being chased from the scene of the crime. Apparently, whoever made the report failed to mention that key piece of information.” I huffed.
“Why would you run?” Jeffries seemed determined to find fault with my actions.
Leaning across the table, I decided to speak slowly so he might better understand. “The man had a gun pointed at me. And since he’s probably the killer, I took him seriously.”
“You could’ve called the police,” he retorted.
Reaching up, I held my head in my hands. I had a shooting pain behind my eyeballs. I felt physically ill. And the strange, tingly fire inside me felt angrier the longer I was away from Mishal. “I tried. He knocked the phone out of my hands. I couldn’t find it in the dark. I thought he was going to shoot me, so I ran.” I kept my lids squeezed shut. The stark lighting in the room wasn’t helping.
Jeffries leaned forward too. His chest hit the table, giving it a jolt. His hot breath was in my face. Even though I hadn’t eaten since the predawn pizza, I felt like I could puke at any moment. After a dramatic pause, he spoke. “Then how do you have your phone now?”
I opened my eyes long enough to roll them. “A security guard for Draco called it while looking for me, found it, and returned it to me before I was announced as a person of interest.” This was mostly true. No way would I implicate Mishal in any of this.
“Why are your eyes closed? Afraid they’ll give you away?” he asked smugly.
Cupping my hands around them for protection, I stared across the table at him. “Migraine,” I murmured. “Probably the stress of losing my boss, fearing for my life, and being the prime suspect.”
“If you tell the truth, then you have nothing to worry about.” His eyes widened as he tried to feign innocence.
“Since I’ve told you nothing but the truth, does this mean I can go?” I pushed my chair back as quietly as I could manage. “And can I get my phone back?”
“No.” He shook his head. “To both.”
“I don’t understand. I’ve told you everything I know. I answered your questions. Hell, I even managed my temper when you behaved like a donkey,” I groaned. His cheeks turned pink. Note to self: never tell the detective in charge of your freedom he’s acting like a donkey. I shook my head in disbelief. “And why are you even asking me questions if you aren’t going to believe a word I say?”
“That’s how investigations work. We pull in people for questioning. Some get to leave. Some don’t.” He leaned back in his chair. “I gotta say it’s not looking good for you.”
“I gotta say you’re still being a donkey.” I closed my eyes while chastising my own behavior. Now I’d called the detective a donkey twice. He was right. I’m never getting out of here. Then I thought about Mishal. No doubt he was already working on extricating me. In that moment, I found my happy thought and I could breathe more easily. Fear was finally kept further at bay.
“Donkey or not, so far you have means, motive, and opportunity.” He slapped his hand on the table.
I threw my hands in the air. “I don’t have any of those!”
“Oh, so you’re not the beneficiary of his will?” His brows rose in challenge and I knew he thought he had me.
“Actually, as you obviously know, I am.” I released an empty laugh. “I wasn’t supposed to be the beneficiary. That was changed last minute. Maybe you should look into that.”
“We will,” Jeffries sneered. He shut the file and stood. “I’m waiting on another report to come back. Then we should be able to charge you. Get comfortable, Ms. Winkler. You’re going to be with us for a long time.”
My throat constricted, my heart raced and though I wanted to chase after him and make him listen to reason, I decided instead to speak the four words that upset every detective: “I want a lawyer.”
Sure enough, he spun around on his heels. “You don’t want to do that. We won’t be able to help you.”
“Help me into a charge I don’t deserve? Help me into a sentence I didn’t earn? I don’t need your help. I need a lawyer. Give me my phone and I’ll take care of that.” I was so angry, I could feel a tick in my jaw from holding it so tightly closed.
A second later, the door behind him opened. In walked Spencer Morse. He wore a serious look on his face and I could read the hatred in his eyes. Unfortunately, I was pretty sure it was for me.
“You heard her.” He set his briefcase on the metal table. “She asked for a lawyer. I’ll need to speak to my client alone.”
9
Mishal
* * *
At first, I paced furiously. Peri was at the police station. Not only had she not listened to me, but I hadn’t been able to protect her from herself.
“I’m sure she was just doing what she thought was right,” Stephen suggested.
I paused and turned to face him. I started to open my mouth, but I could actually feel the steam rising up from my gut. Instead, I rushed to the sink, turned it on full blast, and scooped up handfuls of water to guzzle down. After a nasty sulfurous burp, I felt better and there was little danger for our driver at the moment. He wouldn’t become accidentally extra crispy on my watch.
“That’s noble, yes, but not smart. Police…make mistakes. Some are bad…dirty. And since we know Peri’s innocent, there’s no need for her to end up in custody when she could be here, helping us find the actual killer,” I explained as calmly as I could muster.
“I hear you.” He scratched at his beard. “So, what are we going to do?”
“The only thing we can do is find a Draco attorney and try to make sure she’s represented and protected.” I slid my finger across my screen. “Of course, given the fact that it’s a Sunday and we’re nowhere near our Boston law firm, this could be tricky.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s already at least one lawyer here. That should help.” Stephen crossed his arms over his chest proudly.
My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean there’s already a lawyer here?”
“I ran across one yesterday, mid-morning.” He frowned. “He wasn’t on any list for pick up, but he was frustrated…”
"Frustrated how?" I stepped closer to Stephen, who froze. "Relax. This is important so spit it out and try not to forget any details."
Stephen took a deep breath. "Okay, so he rented a car at the airport, Enterprise, but they didn't have the car yet. It was at another lot in the area. He was going to have to wait a couple of hours for it to get delivered. He was furious, and announced he couldn't wait there." He shook his head as he recalled the events. "He spotted me waiting for the next guests near baggage claim and rushed over, demanding I drive him to the other side of town to pick up his car."
"He needed a car?" I frowned.
"Yes, I asked him about that. I explained I had a list of people to pick up and he wasn't on it, but if he wanted, I could drop him at the Biltmore when I brought everyone else. I had room this next trip, since I was only driving a couple."
"How did you know he was a lawyer?" I tilted my head as I waited for his response.
"Well, when I told him I was working for the Draco Corporation and couldn’t drive just anyone who needed a ride, he pulled out a business card and explained he was a Draco lawyer and how else would he know about the event? Then he explained he wasn't staying at the Biltmore, some empty excuse about crowds, but I had the feeling he didn't want to be seen and his presence was a surprise or something."
"What makes you say that?" I eyed him curiously.
"The guy wore a baseball cap and had the collar on his pea coat pulled up around his face.” Stephen demonstrated the posture the lawyer had used.
"Did you catch his name?" I drummed my fingers on the table.
Stephen shook his head. “His finger covered his name when he showed me the business card. He did it real intentional-like."
"Could you pick him out
if you saw him?" I was already opening the browser on my phone and pulling up the Abingdon, Betters, and Morse website.
"Probably. The man was an ass. He really left an impression." The driver chuckled.
I held up my phone so he could see the screen, which was open to the About page, with a picture of the firm’s lawyers on it. "Is he one of these guys?"
Stephen reached out to hold my phone and enlarged the picture with his fingers. "Yeah. This one right here. He's a real piece of work, but maybe he can help Miss Peri. We don't have to like him, we just have to save her."
I licked my lips and nodded. He'd just pointed out Spencer Morse. Almost everything was falling into place. Now if I could just figure out why he was doing this and how to save Peri, I'd be golden.
I called the phone number found on the website. Naturally, they didn't share the lawyer’s personal numbers publicly, but they should have an answering service. After just two rings, a woman answered.
"This is the answering service for..."
"I know. I need to speak with Spencer Morse," I announced as I interrupted her.
"He's not in today,” she replied. "Can I give him a message?"
I could feel the heat building already in my gut. Fearing for Peri was as dangerous as being angry when it came to losing control of my shifting abilities. "Tell him Mishal Draco needs to speak with him. Immediately."
There was a hitch in her voice that told me she recognized the family name. "Yes, Mr. Draco. Is this the best number?"
"It is." Then I ended the call. Through the ages, the Draco name had ensured speedy service. If he didn't respond in a reasonable amount of time, then there was a good chance he was the killer we sought and he thought we were onto him. While I waited, I paced. Then I paced some more. When fifteen minutes had gone by with no phone call, I decided it was time to take action.
"Let's go." I snapped my fingers at Stephen. He jumped, but followed me out the door.