“Were you in the security business before the Plague?” I asked.
“Yes, but it was harder when supernaturals were still in the closet so to speak. I wasn’t able to utilize all the tools available to me.”
“Not to mention the world wasn’t as terrifying,” Liam added.
“I’ll admit that business boomed right after the Plague. So many lost their homes, their belongings.”
“Their lives,” I said. “Which is how you acquired this house.”
“I wouldn’t have had the money before the Plague, that much is true.”
“Do you have a typical client?” I asked. I thought of the mountain guide business that my father and I ran. For the most part, the travelers were all similar—humans wanting to get safely from Point A to Point B. Their choices were to take the main roads and risk supernatural interference or hire guides like us to take them through the heart of the mountains, a desolate area in which most supernaturals had no interest.
Lothar pulled a thoughtful face. “Not really. I run the gamut from humans to vampires to shifters and witches. The one thing they have in common is something they want to protect.”
“And enough money to pay for your services,” I added.
Lothar lowered his head slightly. “True, but I wouldn’t be able to offer my services for free, now would I? We all need to make a living.”
My father had bartered as often as he took good coin and he never charged more than someone could afford. It was painfully obvious when someone was just trying to cross the mountains for a better shot at survival. Those travelers wore the same aching expression and my father always made sure to pick up extra supplies to offer them at the end of the journey.
I glanced at the rows of glittering jewels. One piece was as stunning as the next. “How did you acquire all these?”
“Some of them I inherited, like the stolen amulet. Some I bought. Some were given in exchange for services rendered.”
Well, I guess he bartered too.
“And the only place to disable the alarm is your retinal scan and there’s no security camera?” I asked.
“Correct.” Lothar walked to the case directly across from me and tapped the exterior. “The amulet was kept here in the center of the case. That piece was the jewel in my crown so I gave it a prominent position. I haven’t touched anything since I discovered it was missing.”
“How did you?” I asked.
Lothar met my inquisitive gaze. “What? Discover it was missing?”
“Are you in the habit of coming in here and checking?” Saxon asked.
“I do that with Mr. Cuddles,” Liam said. “That’s my stuffed bunny. I’ve had him since I was a kid.”
A softer side of Liam. Who would’ve guessed?
“I don’t check regularly, no, but I brought my brunch guest in here to show off my collection. That’s when I noticed it was gone.”
“Who was the guest?” Saxon asked. “A potential customer?”
“No,” he said vaguely. “A friend.”
Huh. “Any chance we can get a name for this friend?” I asked.
Lothar waved his hands back and forth in a gesture of panic. “No, I’d rather not. I assure you that he had nothing to do with this. He didn’t even arrive until the next day.”
“Callie’s right,” Saxon said. “We need the name of anyone who was on the property within twenty-four hours of the burglary.”
Lothar hesitated. He seemed to be grasping for another excuse. Finally, his shoulders sagged. “His name is Broward Littleton.”
“And where can we find Broward Littleton?” Liam asked.
“He lives on a nature reserve in Whitney Forest about thirty miles from here. I can give you the address, but I promise you that it’s a waste of your time.”
“That’s okay,” Liam said. “We’re professionals when it comes to wasting time.”
“We’d like to speak to your staff one at a time,” Saxon said. “We’ll start with the butler.”
“I’ll let them know. Would you like the use of my study?”
Saxon surveyed the outbuilding. “Actually, in here is fine.”
Lothar produced a phone and sent off a quick text. “Markham will be here in a moment.” The warlock leaned his hip against the case as though intending to stay for the interview.
“We’d rather you not be present, Mr. Friedan,” Saxon said. “It’s more effective if we speak to them without you.”
“But if one of them had a hand in this, I need to know.”
“And we’ll tell you immediately,” Saxon said.
Lothar seemed to relax. “I don’t know what I’m blathering about. I know that no one in my employment would stoop to such a low level. I treat them too well for that.” He turned and exited the outbuilding.
“I think the butler did it,” Liam said. “I’ve read all about historical cases like this. Pre-Plague it was always the butler.”
Saxon offered a tolerant grin. “Wouldn’t that make our job simple?”
By the time Markham came and went, we were no closer to answers. Like his employer, the butler didn’t see or hear anyone. He admitted to having been extremely tired from a long day and retired early. The guest was arriving the next morning for brunch and he’d been focused on the arrangements for that. He only learned of the burglary when Lothar shared the news with him. He claimed to have never seen the amulet up close and was unable to describe it when asked.
Mary knew a bit more than the butler, mainly because she was the maid and her job involved cleaning every square inch of the residence and that included dusting and polishing the cases in the outbuilding. Lothar would open the door and then return to secure it after she finished.
“Do you clean this entire place by yourself?” I asked, gobsmacked.
“I do, but I’m half fae, miss,” Mary said. “I have just enough magic to do chores like cleaning without it being too much of a strain on my system.”
“Do you perform any other tasks for Mr. Friedan?” Saxon asked.
“I have minor healing abilities, so I can assist him with medical needs, so long as they’re not too serious.”
“And you’re not aware of anyone trespassing?” I asked.
“No. I didn’t see or hear a thing. I was out like a light though. Didn’t even make it past the first chapter of my book.”
We asked Mary a few more questions about her whereabouts that evening, what time she went to bed, etc. When we were satisfied there was nothing more to learn, we called for the cook. Gideon was a heavyset human with a bushy beard and mustache. Liam blanched at the sight of Gideon’s facial hair.
“You’re the cook?” the werevamp asked.
“That’s right.” He smoothed the front of his white apron as if to prove it.
“I can’t say I’d have you preparing my meals with a beard like that,” Liam said.
I laughed. “Well, aren’t you particular?”
“I wear a hairnet,” Gideon said.
Liam practically choked. “On your face?”
Gideon nodded. “Basically. That was the agreement when I was hired. Mr. Friedan asked me to shave and I refused, but he still wanted me for the job. The hairnet was the compromise.”
“Sounds like you might’ve compromised your dignity as well,” Liam muttered.
“And we understand you were also here the night of the burglary,” Saxon said, clearly in an effort to keep the conversation on point.
“Apparently, but I can tell you right now that I didn’t hear or see nothing. By the time I finished preparations for the next day’s brunch, I was wiped out. I think I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.”
“Is that typical for you?” I asked, feeling extremely jealous after my difficult night.
“Not really,” Gideon said. “My head felt heavy and I just couldn’t keep my eyes open even if I wanted to. Mr. Friedan wanted the brunch to be perfect and I think the stress caught up with me.”
Liam leaned forward. “
Tell us about this special guest.”
“Whenever Mr. Littleton pays a visit, everything is expected to be perfect,” Gideon admitted. “I don’t take such pains with meals when it’s just Mr. Friedan, but I have to up my game for a visitor like Mr. Littleton.”
“Because your boss asks you to?” Liam pressed.
“Not asks. Demands.” Gideon’s head jerked from side to side in search of an eavesdropping Lothar. “He makes it very clear that Mr. Littleton is an honored guest and should be treated accordingly.”
“And you’re sure Mr. Littleton didn’t arrive until the next morning?” I asked.
Gideon nodded. “I was in the kitchen when he arrived. The dogs go nuts whenever he’s here, so even the whirring of the oven fan and the other cooking sounds didn’t drown out his entrance.”
Liam tapped his finger on the nearest case. “The dogs go nuts because he brings them raw steak as a treat or because they want to tear his arms off and use them as chew toys?”
Gideon smiled, seemingly amused. “The Danes can smell Mr. Littleton’s ride a mile away. The barking doesn’t stop until the steed is safely installed in the stables.”
“They’re that excited by a horse?” I asked.
“No just a horse,” Gideon said. “A pegasus.”
Whoa. My surprise must’ve been evident because it prompted a smile from Saxon.
“You’ve never seen one, I take it?” Saxon asked me.
“I didn’t know they were real.” I definitely would’ve noticed flying horses circling the mountaintop.
“They’re extremely rare,” Saxon said. “A few of them were accidentally sealed off in the pocket dimension.”
“One of the few benefits of the Plague,” Gideon added.
“There were a few dragons as well,” Liam said. He pointed his finger at Saxon. “Hey, remember that one we saw in California?”
“And this Broward Littleton managed to snag one as a pet?” I asked. It didn’t seem right to hold a magnificent creature like that hostage just so you could ride it to your boyfriend’s house.
“I don’t know the details,” Gideon said. He lowered his head in a way that signaled I’m only the cook, lady.
“Thanks for your time, Gideon.” Saxon shook his hand and the cook seemed to notice his eyes for the first time.
“Cool. I’ve never seen eyes like that.”
Liam grinned. “Mesmerizingly beautiful, aren’t they? I lose my train of thought whenever we make eye contact.”
Saxon glowered at the werevamp. “You’ve probably never met an angel-vampire hybrid before either.”
Gideon paled. “No, I can’t say that I have.” The cook’s response was pretty typical. For some reason, Saxon’s species mix seemed more abhorrent than Liam’s.
“While you’re finishing up here, I’d like to take a look at the dock,” I said. I left the outbuilding so that I could examine the riverbank for any evidence of a recent arrival. If there was one thing I could probably do better than my hybrid companions, it was follow tracks on the ground. Although Liam’s werewolf side might be competent in that area, I had more than twenty years of experience in my favor. In the mountains, if you couldn’t hunt, you couldn’t eat.
Saxon was by my side in the blink of an eye thanks to his vampire speed. “I’ll come with you.”
“And leave Liam alone with cases full of valuables? Is that wise?” I asked.
“It’ll be good practice for him.”
Once we were far enough away from the outbuilding, I dared to speak. “What do you think?”
Saxon spared a glance over his shoulder. “About Gideon? I think he’s telling the truth.”
“Me too. How do you think the burglar managed to get in without setting off any alarms?”
“Astral projection?” he suggested.
“You can’t manipulate objects when you astral project. You’re incorporeal.”
“Good point.”
We arrived at the dock and Saxon searched the boat while I scrutinized the riverbank. Plenty of bird poop—not quite what I wanted to find.
“Do you think Lothar realizes we can’t return the amulet to him even if we find it?” I asked.
“We might be able to return it. We’ll just need to destroy the soul inside first.”
I laughed. “Without breaking it into pieces? How likely is that?”
Saxon’s head popped up from behind the steering wheel of the boat. “Not very, but he doesn’t need to know that now. The important thing is that he cooperates so we can find the Ab.”
“You would think he’d understand if we told him the risk. I mean, he’s a security expert.”
“Yes, but for profit. To protect others’ material possessions.” Saxon shrugged. “It’s not the same as what we do. His is a job. A profession. For us, it’s a calling.”
I looked at him askance. “Is it?” I wouldn’t say that about me. I only joined the Pride because they had connections and I wanted to investigate my father’s death.
He seemed to understand my implication. “But you’re still with us, Callie.”
“I need a paycheck, Saxon. I don’t mean to suggest that what we do isn’t important, but I was perfectly content being a mountain guide. Other than the occasional avalanche or run-in with a feral supernatural, I felt much safer than I do now.”
“I guess I can understand that.”
There was a question that had been on my mind since my dream last night. I figured now was a good time to ask. “Not to bring up uncomfortable topics, but if I was in your dream last night, why was I wearing a slutty dress and heels?”
Saxon’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “That dress wasn’t slutty at all. I thought it was very tasteful.”
“I’m glad it was your dream and not Liam’s. I can only imagine how I would’ve been dressed in his dream.”
“It’s nice that you assume you’d be dressed at all.”
I groaned. “Good point.”
“He can’t always control his abilities, you know.”
I glanced at him. “Huh?”
“Liam. The story about the grocery store.” Saxon watched me for any sign of understanding. “He didn’t mean to shift in the dairy aisle. He couldn’t help it.”
“Oh. Does that happen often?”
“It’s not always that big of a deal,” Saxon said. “Sometimes his fangs appear when he doesn’t want them to or he starts to get furry but doesn’t shift.”
His comment triggered a memory. “You mentioned something like that about yourself when we were in Baltimore. That you can’t control certain abilities and get thrown off balance when you use too much of one species’ traits.”
He nodded. “We’re similar in that way, although Liam has a harder time than I do.”
“I guess that’s why you’re the team captain,” I said.
“If it were based purely on ability, Evadne would be team captain, but she doesn’t have the personality for it.”
“You mean she doesn’t have a personality.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. She’s oozing personality, only most of the time you’d rather she didn’t.”
The dream walking discussion triggered another thought. “What about an angel?”
Saxon vacated the boat to join me on the bank. “I don’t follow.”
“Would it be possible for a supernatural with dream walking abilities to enter Lothar’s dream and have him take the amulet without realizing it?”
Saxon scratched the back of his head, contemplating the possibility. “But then why wouldn’t Lothar remember?”
“We don’t always remember our dreams, do we?”
“It’s definitely something to consider, but right now we don’t have any angels as suspects.”
The sound of approaching footsteps silenced us. “Is this little cozy convo over or do I need to watch you two make eyes at each other for another nauseating minute?” Liam folded his arms and glared at us.
“If you want to scoop up some of this
bird poop,” I began, “we can take it back to the lab to search for evidence.”
Liam grimaced. “No thanks. I’ll leave the fun to you.”
As I turned toward the main house, something caught my eye. I crouched down and removed a feather that had been crushed into the damp earth.
“Oh wow. What a shocking development.” Liam clutched his heart. “A feather amidst all this bird doo-doo.”
“Grey tipped with black,” I murmured as I studied the feather.
Saxon held up his hands in acquiescence. “It’s not one of mine.”
I twirled the feather between my fingers. “No, I recognize this one. I think it belongs to a black-legged kittiwake, but they’re not native to this area.”
“Neither were pegasi,” Liam said with a casual shrug. “All bets are off in a post-Plague world.”
I held up the feather. “I’d like to bring this back to the lab.” Maybe Nita could tell us more about it.
Saxon plucked the feather from my fingertips and slid it carefully into an evidence bag. “If that’s all, then I think we’re done here,” he said.
Liam’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Excellent. Let’s go see a man about a flying horse.”
Chapter Five
Broward Littleton’s house seemed entirely at home in the middle of the forest, despite its obvious steel and concrete construction. The waterfall cascading from the base was nothing short of spectacular.
Liam pointed to the roof. “Look, instead of a widow’s walk, he has a pegasus walk.”
I shaded my eyes from the streaks of later afternoon sunlight and followed his gaze to the roof. Sure enough, there was an area wide enough for a winged horse to take off and land. “It’s like a helipad.” I’d seen a few of those in the mountains, although helicopters were considered high risk—not simply because of Mother Nature but because of the creatures that might try to tag along or knock you out of the sky.
“I think this guy might have more money than our friend Lothar.” Liam seemed enamored of the house, not that I blamed him.
“Ever hear of Frank Lloyd Wright?” Saxon asked.
“The plane guy?” Liam asked.
“The architect,” Saxon replied. “This reminds me of one of the houses he designed called Fallingwater. It’s in Pennsylvania. I visited there once on a mission.”
High Stakes and Vampires (Pandora's Pride Book 2) Page 4