Argus laughed, and disbelief tinged his voice. “Is she serious? Does anybody read the fine print? Witch, I can do whatever I want. You signed a contract.”
A shrill whistle pierced the night, and Argus glanced over his shoulder as footsteps started to pound along the alley.
“Someone’s coming,” the thug muttered, loosening his grip on my wrists.
Pinning me with his gaze, Argus warned, “I want it all by the end of the month.”
“I told you, it’s not enough time.”
“End of the month,” he growled, moving past me and vanishing into the shadows.
Alone in the alley, I shrank against the building to make myself invisible. I was tempted to follow Argus, unsure whether I should face the advancing strangers. Better the devil you know…
Light poured into the narrow space, and the footsteps halted.
“Detective? What are you doing here?” I pushed away from the wall and moved into the inviting glow. Fear drained from my body, leaving me hollow and unsteady.
Derrick Chambers stepped in front of his patrolman. His gaze traveled over my disheveled form, lingering for a moment near my jawline. Heat flushed my cheeks as I realized the tangled strands of the wig were stuck to my chin. I tugged the offending piece from my head, leaving my drizzle-damp hair hanging past my shoulders.
As the corner of Derrick’s mouth kicked up in amusement, I finger-combed the mess back into place. So much for the disguise. What had worked for Vivian had utterly failed me. Mortified, I considered using magic to create a crater in the ground big enough to swallow me whole. The only saving grace was that behind Derrick’s frank enjoyment was a hint of concern. That softening look tightened something in my chest. I needed to squelch the emotion or I might think he cared.
My hands balled into fists. “Were you having me followed?”
“I thought I should, after our discussion yesterday. You seemed like a runner.” He eyed the wig, which resembled a ball of snarled yarn rather than a hairpiece. Out came his notebook, and the impulse to rip the pages from his fingers to see what he wrote down raged inside me. But giving in to temptation would only reveal my curiosity.
“Stay out of my business, Detective.”
He grabbed my arm as I swept past him. Pain exploded in my wrist when his hand clamped over the spot Argus’s thug had injured. At the sound of my hoarse cry, his grip gentled, and he snapped his fingers. The man holding the lantern loomed closer.
Derrick eased the sleeve of my cloak up to reveal an ugly welt and traced his thumb over the edges of the darkening bruise. The soothing touch should have calmed my tension. Instead, it ratcheted it higher, making the air thick inside my lungs. All amusement faded from his face, replaced by a rigid determination.
I couldn’t deny the flare of pleasure it gave me.
“Did you get a good look at him?” The fury in his tone tightened my throat. It would be so easy to tell him my problems. I almost believed he would solve them. I imagined him bending over my knuckles and pledging to rid the kingdom of anything in my way; a knight in shining armor fantasy that was about as real as my illusions. Derrick had followed me because my shop was one of the last places Ella visited. He didn’t trust me, and he wasn’t interested in my troubles unless they related to catching a killer.
A strained silence hung in the air while he waited for my answer. His men had backed away, leaving us on the fringes of the dim light. I tugged my arm from his grasp, feeling the loss of his touch more than I should.
“It was too dark.” As I lowered my sleeve in a jerky motion, the wig fell, landing with a wet slap against the cobblestones. “They ran off when they heard you coming. I suppose I should thank you for your good timing.”
“No thanks necessary. It’s what—”
“You do. Yeah, I remember,” I grumbled, mimicking our prior exchange.
He bent to retrieve the wig. It looked like a mangy animal in his large hands. What had I been thinking, wearing such a thing?
“I can explain the disguise.”
“I think you should.”
I fumbled for a suitable story and settled on something resembling the truth. “I went to visit a friend, and as you know, this part of town can be dangerous for a young woman at night. It was a silly idea, but I thought I’d be safer. Respect your elders and all that.”
“I see.” Except the skepticism that flashed across his face said he really didn’t. Not that I could blame him—it was a ridiculous explanation. I half-expected him to put me in cuffs for impersonating an old woman. Was that a crime? Unlikely. But knowing Derrick, there was probably a fine.
“Am I free to go?” I asked.
He hesitated as if he had more to say, then gave a swift nod. “Abrams?” Derrick barked over his shoulder. “Escort Miss Daniels back to her shop.”
“I don’t need an escort.”
