“I’ll text Reece a transcript, see if he can pick up anything else now that we know where to look.” I noted the time stamp on the video and sent that too. “Anca can dig up who was on duty at Marx’s. She can compile a list of employees for us to interview at dusk.”
“Right after your run,” he reminded me. “You can’t let your training lapse.”
The dogged way he refused to accept defeat of my dreams lent me the strength to play along.
Fake it till you make it, right?
“Your team will have everything ready by dusk,” he promised. “We’ll run, shower, and then hit Marx’s.”
“Are you sure? You have your hands full with your own job. You don’t have to help me do mine.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “I didn’t mean for that to come out so sharp.”
“You’re under a lot of pressure.” He kissed my forehead. “I won’t hold it against you.”
In thanks, I burrowed into his chest and kissed the spot over his heart, grateful he was safe.
Not everyone was so lucky with their loved ones tonight.
“As to the rest,” he said dryly, “I believe you’ve met my mother.”
For an alpha determined not to involve her pack in OPA business, she skirted a lot of lines.
A lot.
A whole lot.
And I… Honestly? I loved her for it.
“You guys would be working this case with or without me,” I mumbled against him. “Is that it?”
“I wouldn’t phrase it like that, but yes.”
“Give me thirty,” I negotiated. “Then I’ll go to bed as promised.”
Midas withdrew and began shutting things down while I made my calls and sent my texts.
Then, proving he knew me better than anyone, he sat on the couch and set a timer on his phone.
Ready or not, in thirty minutes, I was spirited off to bed.
Five
Sweat dripped into my eyes, and I gasped for air as I rounded the last corner and hit the home stretch. It wasn’t fair that I mated a gwyllgi with stamina for days. Okay, okay. Under the right circumstances, I enjoyed that part. A lot. Just not when he was in drill sergeant mode.
“Hadley Whitaker,” a throaty voiced called. “Is that you?”
I wasn’t ashamed of how fast I abandoned the finish line for a chance to catch my breath. “Yes.”
“I thought so.” A tall woman with black hair and gray eyes smiled at me. “You look like your picture.”
There were pictures of me circulating with my hair plastered to my scalp and sweaty pits? That was less than flattering. Accurate, but ugh. Talk about a branding fail. Maybe Neely could help me with that after we found him, and he recovered from his ordeal.
Rubbing at the stitch pulling in my side, I dialed up my manners. “How can I help you?”
Ambrose uncoiled from my shadow, slithered across the pavement, and tasted her magic.
Necromancer.
A powerful one at that.
Midas had picked up on my shadow half’s cues too and moved into position to flank me.
“I wanted to introduce myself.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Sue Billiard.”
The wind got knocked out of me for another reason entirely, and I was grateful to be filthy.
“I would shake—” I wiped the sweat off my brow with the back of my wrist, “—but I’m gross right now.”
“I’m mapping a route myself.” She lowered her arm. “I ran on the hotel treadmill, but it’s not the same as being out with the people and breathing fresh air.”
The part of me that had spent too much time around gwyllgi wanted to growl it was my people and my fresh air, and she couldn’t have either. But it was rude to forbid guests from breathing while in your city.
“I was hoping to get a tour of the Office of the Potentate,” she hedged. “Can I make an appointment?”
An emotion too volatile to call rage simmered in my veins as my territorial instincts roared to the fore.
Ambrose, curling around her ankle, canted his head in a way that asked if I wanted my problem solved. I won’t lie and say it wasn’t tempting to let him handicap her, but those were my darker instincts at play. I could imagine Ambrose whispering what he considered a helpful suggestion in my ear, and it scared me.
Dybbuks who went rogue got dead.
For all that he claimed to be on my side, he had worse impulse control than a toddler when he got snackish.
“Not happening.”
“Remy?” I whirled to find her strolling toward us. “Hey, you’re back.”
She had gone on a buying trip upstate, but I wasn’t expecting her home until tomorrow.
In fact, she had put me in charge of watering her roommate, Lillian, every other day while she was away.
She flashed her needlelike teeth in a sharp grin that showed off the green elastics on her braces. Her spiked pixie cut highlighted the roundness in her cheeks, and the green streak in her hair glowed from a fresh dye job.
I hoped she hadn’t worn the green leather pants, black tube top, and lime fishnet shawl to her meeting, but the suppliers might as well get used to the fact my right hand had a unique fashion sense.
“I heard about the trouble at home.” She zeroed in on Sue. “Lady, I appreciate you want to get a feel for the city you’re attempting to poach. I understand you’d like to get a read on how things are done and who does them. But the OPA is for OPA staff only. No one gets into HQ unless you belong there.”
“Remy,” I warned her. “There’s no cause for rudeness.”
“Yes,” she corrected me. “There is.”
The twitch in Midas’s cheek told me he agreed with Remy, which explained why he kept his mouth shut.
“You’re too polite to set her straight, but you’ve broken your back for this city.” She slid her glare to me. “The job is yours. She’s got no right to show up at the eleventh hour and try to take it away from you.”
“Remy.” I hardened my tone. “Go wait for me at my apartment.”
“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”
Once she flounced away, I turned back to Sue and got ready to smooth things over with her.
“Remy is my business partner,” I explained. “She lets her mouth run away with her sometimes.” I might as well put it out there. “I wasn’t aware I was in danger of losing my position except to my past mistakes. None of us expected a last-minute challenge, and it’s thrown us all for a loop.”
“I understand.” She stared after Remy. “I don’t hold her speech against you.” Her lips twitched. “I’ve heard a variation on the theme from everyone I’ve met since I got into town.” She rolled a shoulder. “These people love you. They’re devoted to you. The shifters, in particular, are downright rabid in their support of you.”
“Hadley has worked hard the last two years to earn her place.” Midas found his voice. “Atlanta is lucky to have her.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Atlanta is lucky.” She wet her lips. “I wanted to tell you to your face why I’m here and what I hope to accomplish. I waffled on whether to come until the last minute, which I’m sure came off as a power play, but it was just me floundering on whether I could pull off this whole thing.”
“I have a meeting to get to,” I told her honestly. “There’s an important case that requires my attention.” I watched to see how she would take it, but she acted as if she had expected a brush-off. “You’re welcome to join us for a late dinner. We can talk then.”
“Great.” Her face lit up as she clasped her hands. “I really appreciate your time.”
“No problem.” I tipped my chin then set off at a jog toward the Faraday. “That was odd.”
Midas, not a bead of sweat on him, power-walked beside me.
Damn his long legs.
His long, muscly legs.
His long, muscly, soon-to-be-naked legs.
“What do you think?”
The long, muscly, soon-to-be-naked legs must have asked me a question. “Abo
ut?”
Midas caught me staring and cocked an eyebrow. “My opinion on Sue.”
“Oh.” I did my best to appear earnest. “Yes.” I nodded. “That.”
“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
“You gave your opinion on Sue.”
Shaking his head, he slowed as we reached Hank. “Shall I recap?”
“Please do.”
“I didn’t smell a lie on her.” He began a series of stretches to cool down. “She came off as earnest.”
“I got the same vibe.” I was reluctant to admit it, but there you go. “She wants to talk.”
“Are you more worried or curious what she might have to say?”
“Both.” I went through the motions with him. “I don’t like being ambushed outside my home.”
Frak.
I hadn’t meant to use the word ambush. It was so…confrontational…and she hadn’t been. Not really.
“We’ll check with Hank.” Midas completed his routine then waited on me. “See if she approached him, or if she decided to loiter in the hopes she would get lucky and bump into you.”
“Okay,” I exhaled, grateful to be done with my workout. “Let’s ask him.”
Given how close we stood to the entrance, he had overheard this part of our conversation with ease.
“She asked me if you were home,” Hank said, proving he had been listening in. “I said no.”
“That’s it?” I gawked at him. “I thought you were the face of the Faraday or something.”
“I’m the guy who guards the door.” He rolled a shoulder. “I don’t let the riffraff in, and that goes double for some Johnny-come-lately trying to steal a city out from under my beta’s mate.”
A sympathetic pang shot through me for the rough time Sue was getting from my people, but I had trouble holding on to that flicker of empathy while a knot of emotion tightened my throat.
“Thanks,” I said thickly. “Next time, be nice.”
Hank appeared to give that consideration then shook his head. “Nah.”
Midas, who was usually one for diplomacy, only smiled.
Obviously, he was Team Hadley and didn’t care if the other team got booed while on the field.
Heaving a sigh, I headed into the lobby and called the elevator as a text chimed.
>>Got tired of waiting. Yawn. Going to my place.
In other words, Remy knew she was in trouble and didn’t want to stick around for the lecture.
More than likely, she skipped my apartment and went straight to hers to catch up with her friend.
>See you tomorrow.
I had more right than anyone to be angry about Sue, but instead of kicking my feet, yelling at the moon, and generally showing my tail, I was being forced to rein in my friends who were doing all of the above for me.
As the thought occurred to me, I slanted a suspicious glance at Midas, who was a picture of innocence.
Certain I was being handled with expert care, I couldn’t find it in me to fuss at him about managing me.
Mostly because I was seconds away from a deliciously cold shower with a deliciously hot Midas.
Bishop didn’t show with my café mocha, which made me sad. And thirsty. But I soldiered on to HQ.
“How did you get here so fast?” Bishop met me at the door with a scowl. “What time is it?”
“I took a Swyft?” This location was our farthest point. “It’s mocha o’clock, not that I hold grudges.”
Bishop grunted then led the way to his command center where he sat with another grunt.
“Have you had your coffee this morning?” I poked his shoulder. “You’re grumpy.”
“I didn’t sleep today.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I was combing over the audio.”
Between him and Reece, I could never keep up with who was doing what. They tag-teamed too often.
“You can’t run yourself into the ground.” I ignored my double standards. “You’re no good to me if your brain explodes.”
“Midas shouldn’t have let you watch Alien Brains Invade Our Dreams.” He rubbed his face. “Brains don’t just explode, no matter what that show taught you. And how did an alien brain take the place of the human one when there was a smoking crater left behind in the hosts’ skulls? It makes no sense.”
Poor guy hadn’t watched enough creature features with me to grasp they didn’t have to make sense.
“Probably because their brains had been exploded,” I said sagely. “Did you find anything new?”
“Midas caught it all.” He leaned back. “Anca has a list of employees who worked that night. They only listed one host, and it was a woman.”
“Are you coming with?” I took in his rumpled clothes and red-rimmed eyes. “Or you going to nap?”
“I heard Sue Billiard tracked you down.”
More like he was spying on me and caught the incident on film sans audio.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You have a soft heart, kid. You see the good in everyone. Whatever sob story she sold you, it’s not the truth. Not all of it. Probably not even half of it. Anyone with a lick of sense would have avoided you altogether. You have to ask yourself why she searched you out in record time.”
“She wants to talk.” I had almost forgotten in my eagerness to return to Marx’s. “We invited her to our place for dinner.”
“Oh, to be a fly on that wall.” Bishop finger combed his unruly hair. “Bzz-bzz.”
“You want an invitation?”
It would look odd if Midas and I invited a third for our party if she arrived solo. I realized then I had assumed she would bring her husband, because I couldn’t imagine facing something as huge as the gauntlet without Midas by my side. With so many kids in the mix, I should have asked her.
“Do I look like the social type? No. I want you to invite Remy. Between her observation skills and Midas’s senses, they can determine how honest Sue’s intentions are without having to resort to a confrontation.”
“Remy is a bad idea.” I explained about their run-in. “Sue won’t be comfortable with her there.”
“If Remy can’t eavesdrop without being discovered, then she might as well hang up her hat.”
It was a testament to how many directions I was being pulled in that I didn’t put two and two together. Her ability to sneak in and out of anywhere had earned her the title of my unofficial spymaster. And not just because it was better for me when she applied those skills elsewhere.
“When you’re right, you’re right.” I shot her a text. “There.” I flashed him the screen. “I invited the brat.”
“Let me grab a drink, and we’ll go.” He rose with a grunt-groan combo. “I’m parched.”
I didn’t see what he grabbed from the fridge, but its metallic scent wafted to me and clenched my gut.
Blood.
The tumbler he carried was one of the big ones. Thirty ounces. Filled with crimson liquid visible through the clear lid.
“Ready?” I kept my tone easy and light. “Or do you need snacks for the road too?”
“This’ll do.” He nudged me toward the door. “Our chariot awaits.”
One of my first duties as POA would be to negotiate with Swyft for better discount rates for the OPA.
Yeesh.
It cost a small fortune to zoom around town. Well, to have someone else zoom you around town.
Loud slurping punctuated the car ride as Bishop did his best to annoy the living daylights out of me.
Grateful to arrive at Marx’s, I was the first one out of the car and aimed for the hostess at the podium.
After reading her name tag, I started feeling lucky. “I don’t suppose you’re Amber Jakes?”
That was the name Anca dug up for us as the hostess on duty when Neely was taken.
“Depends on who’s asking.” She folded her arms over her chest. “The boss says we’re not supposed to talk to the press.”
“Your boss has the rig
ht idea, but we’re not with the press.” I pulled out the Atlanta Police Department credentials I used when dealing with humans since there was no human equivalent to the OPA. “We would like to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure thing.” She caught the eye of a waitress. “Beth, can you hold down the fort? These officers would like to question me in relation to the events that resulted in an assault and an abduction outside our workplace last night.” She must have noticed my expression. “I watch a lot of Law & Order.”
Fingers crossed she didn’t break out into faux legal jargon learned on the show next.
After her post was covered, she led us to a quiet corner with no customers. “How can I help?”
“You were listed on the schedule as the hostess,” I began. “Did you work alone?”
“Yes.” She fiddled with her name tag. “I close on the weekends, have for years.”
“A witness we interviewed claimed there were two hosts working that night,” I fibbed. “Is that true?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “I bet they meant Wesley.”
Phone out, I scanned the list of names. “There’s no Wesley on the schedule for last night.”
“He’s a floater.” She flipped a hand. “They call him in when it gets busy. He works at Lockdown too.”
Bishop caught my eye, and I read recognition of the name and more in his pinched expression.
Writing my notes in an app, I asked, “Does he have any close friends who work here?”
“No.” She snorted. “He’s hotheaded and mean. Hates women. That’s why the management won’t bring him on full-time. He’s an excellent waiter, though. Customers love him. It’s like night and day when he’s on the floor versus when he’s in the back.”
“That sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen,” Bishop mused. “Who keeps bringing him in?”
“Dean Richards.”
That name was on my list, and I didn’t miss her clipped tone. “Not a fan of Dean?”
“He’s the new weekend manager. He’s been here maybe six weeks, and he’s a tyrant.” She hesitated. “I mean that in the best way. He runs a tight ship, keeps Wesley on a short leash. He really gets things done. He’s about as personable as a wet paper bag, though.”
The Epilogues: Part I: Badge of Honor (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 6) Page 5