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She inhaled sharply, slowly exhaled, and shook her head. “That was Chase. He’s down at the Wayfarer. The fire’s out, the embers are cold . . .”
“What’s the damage?” Nerissa closed the refrigerator and approached the table, a guarded look on her face. She’d have to be the one consoling Menolly the most, even though we’d all be there.
Camille flashed her a bleak look. “Eight dead—they found another body in the remains. The bar is eighty percent destroyed. The fire marshal says a candle in one of the upstairs rooms tipped over, or something like that. It caught the curtain on fire and . . .”
“Oh crap. One of the guest rooms. Was the occupant one of the victims?” If not, then whoever it was had left the candle burning unattended.
“That’s the thing . . . the door was locked, and there seems to be no record of a guest checked into that room.”
“We were right. Arson.”
Camille shrugged. “Yeah. I told them about the calls. Would be way too easy to cloak arson as an accident. And while there’s a record of all guests, Menolly’s office with the computer was a casualty. We have no way of accessing any of their names or where they came from. And you know, nobody’s going to remember in this mess. Chase talked to Derrick and to Digger, but neither could help much.”
“Do they have any clue whether any vampires were caught in the fire? Nothing would be left but piles of dust to mix with the ashes.” Fire could destroy so much, including all traces that someone had once walked this world.
“We won’t know for sure, ever, though tonight when the vamps rise, we might be able to figure out a few things. See if anybody was at the club with a vamp who has vanished. You know how that goes.”
I nodded. “Yeah, sadly.”
Camille attacked her stack of pancakes and sausage. “How are you feeling? How’s your hand? You up to going out to Interlaken Park to find out if there’s any evidence that Violet may have had a stalker?”
I held up my freshly bandaged wound. “It hurts. It’s going to hurt. As long as I take it easy, everything should be fine. It doesn’t look like it’s spreading and I feel a lot better than last night.”
She glanced over at Nerissa. “Tonight, we have to head to Otherworld. Menolly’s going to have to know about the extent of the damage as soon as she wakes up. I think . . . we’d all better gather here around 5:30. Sunset is at about 6:30 for another week or so till Daylight Savings Time kicks in. We need to have as much info as we can on what’s going down regarding the bar. Can you gather up everything you can find out while you’re at work?”
Nerissa nodded. “Will do. I guess sometimes it’s a good thing that I work for Chase’s division.” She finished up her breakfast—mostly, Menolly’s wife ate a lot of meat, some vegetables and fruits, and a small amount of other foods. Her inner carnivore came out in spades. Earthside werepumas were known for their high protein consumption. “Okay, I’m off. I’ll be home before Menolly wakes up, and I’ll see what I can find out. Chase or I will call you if anything comes up that we need to address right away.”
As she gathered up her purse and threw on a jacket, the look on her face spoke for all of us. Telling Menolly that the fire had destroyed most of the bar would be bad enough, but we all knew the victims were the casualties that tore her to pieces. There was no way to cushion her heart from the death.
Nerissa had no sooner closed the door when Hanna turned around from the sink. “Someone needs to watch Maggie. I am to help the Duchess with Iris today, so the housework will have to wait.”
She stood, hands on her hips, staring at us. Hanna was tough. When Hyto kidnapped Camille and carried her off to his lair in the Northlands to face torture and death, Hanna had helped her escape at risk of her own life. Camille had brought her home, and now Hanna lived with us and helped Iris out with the housework and taking care of Maggie.
I decided to delegate. “Smoky, you and Vanzir help Hanna today. Rozurial, can you and Trillian prepare for our trip tonight? Shade, come with Camille and me to check out the park?” And then, it occurred to me that—in the chaos surrounding the fire at the Wayfarer—we hadn’t filled everybody in on what was happening. They knew something was up, given Grandmother Coyote and the gargoyles, but they had no clue about everything else.
“On second thought, let’s start at the beginning . . .” I nodded to Camille, and we laid out everything that had happened the evening before.
“So, let me get this straight: A—Grandmother Coyote wants you to find out what’s going down with the daemonic activity at the Farantino Building and put a stop to it. B—You have to track down a group of dreglins and exterminate them. And C—Tad and Albert want you to find out what happened to their friend Violet.” Vanzir grinned at me. “That about it, pussycat?”
The dream-chaser demon liked to needle me, but his teasing had evolved into a fond playfulness rather than the edgy sarcasm that had at first prefaced it.
“That’s about it. I honestly don’t know what to think about Violet—there’s still a nagging voice that says she just disappeared off on some trip, but I don’t want to chance us being wrong.” I glanced up at the clock. “Okay, let’s head out. First, we’d better swing by the Wayfarer and see just what the damage is. Then we’ll stop at the FH-CSI and I’ll have them look at my hand. After that, we can do a little daylight surveillance of the Farantino Building. And then, over to the park.”
As Camille polished off her breakfast, Shade began clearing the table. My mind was scattered, but in the back of my thoughts, I couldn’t help but think that the dam had broken. Our lucky streak was over and we were back on the job.
• • •
Camille drove again. I was getting tired of my Jeep being in the shop but Jason was working as fast as he could, and we trusted him. Parts could only be ordered so quickly, and with three rush jobs ahead of mine, things had been poking along at a snail’s pace.
We inched through the rush hour traffic. At this time of the morning, it was still bumper-to-bumper and would be for another hour. Camille had her iPhone plugged in to the dash and her playlist was blasting away. I grimaced. How anybody could listen to Nine Inch Nails at this time in the morning escaped me, but it was her car, so we listened to her music.>“Who the hell told you that? The Leprechaun brigade?”
“Smoky. And he was serious.”
I blinked. “Who knew? Well . . . so Mrs. Mother-of-Bruce is actually a duchess? Bruce’s parents are a duke and duchess?” I knew they were wealthy beyond anything we’d experienced, but I had no idea they were nobility. Bruce’s father was a lush, that much had become apparent during their stay back in February. A nice lush, but a lush.
“That’s right. In the Leprechaun Court, they are definitely among the titled. Bruce is officially Lord Bruce Golden Eagle O’Shea. Quite a mouthful, though I’m not sure how it all fits together, and I’ve learned it’s better not to ask. Leprechaun lore is guarded close to the heart among their people.”
He stopped as we reached the cottage. Two steps led up to a spacious porch, with a swing just like on ours. Iris had a massive kitchen herb garden growing in pots that lined the edge of the railing.
