Page 44 of Booked for Murder

Bradley’s mother choked, Bradley coughed, and Jezabella snickered while Beatrice sighed. “You’re something else. No, you idiot. I’m marrying him because I love him.”

In more ways than I could readily count, I envied her. “If you say Mr. Tawnlen, I will go to my kitchen, grab a knife, and put you out of your misery.”

Beatrice stared at me as though I’d lost my mind. “Really? You came up with your boss as the most likely candidate to be my future husband? That’s just rude.”

“What? It’s not like I stalk you. You usually just make poor Mickey…” My mouth dropped open, and my eyes widened. “You’re marrying Mickey? Mousey, terrified of blood, views people as research subjects if weird magic is involved Mickey?”

“Yeah. This is not public information, so even before I got dragged into this, I was already going to be dragged into this. There is zero way he could have been involved. He faints at the thought of blood. He’s going to be in therapy for life after this. He got blood on his face, Janette.”

Poor Mickey. “Is he going to be able to be in the cell?”

“He’ll love the research element, as long as we dodge any pictures of blood. Hell, maybe it’ll help him with his problem, as he’ll have to do a lot of research to figure out how the killer—or killers—pulled this off. He called me last night and ranted about it for an hour. He’ll be on the same page. He didn’t like people accusing him of a crime he didn’t commit.”

“Nobody likes it.”

“Yeah, well, that sort of accusation could land him in maximum security for life. He’s worried he’ll be arrested, and he can’t even stand the sight of blood without it getting to him. He’s going to need a lot of therapy to cope with this.”

“There’s going to be a lot of blood in his future,” I warned.

“I tried to tell him marriage was a bloody business, but he just told me I was worth it. I didn’t have a comeback line for that.”

I wouldn’t have had one, either. “All right. So Mickey is in, he just doesn’t know it yet. What do you think about Meridian? She has the accounting skills we need.”

“And an even bigger mouth, which will be a problem,” Beatrice warned. “I don’t know if we can control her tendency to gossip. We could put her on the accounting work without telling her what, precisely, we’re working on—and we can have her help with research, but I wouldn’t have her doing any interviews. She might be able to do some basic spying on the patrons. Her memory is good, but her mouth runneth over.”

“True.” Of the people in the room, Bradley’s mother would be the most useful resource for handling a gossip. “Thoughts, Mrs. Hampton?”

“We need an accountant, but the accountant need not be a part of the active investigator group. But if she’s half as smart as you believe, she can figure out what we’re doing from the receipts. I don’t know the specifics of filing taxes for the investigator cells.”

“It’s quarterly,” Bradley said, and he snagged a piece of paper from the coffee table, reading it over. “Investigator cells are required to relinquish all expense sheets at the demand of the government. There’s a very simple solution to that problem.”

Since when could anything in my life actually be simple? “There is?”

“The cell doesn’t claim any expenses and works as a non-profit. If there are no payments rendered and no expenses incurred, there’s nothing for the accountant to do except keep records of the cell’s permits and licensing fees. Essentially, you work pro bono, which can have benefits as a private investigator cell. You still qualify, but you’re far less likely to be audited by the government, as there’s no money trail for them to follow. Should she prove trustworthy, then you can ease her into more responsibilities within the cell.”

I could work with that. “Beatrice?”

“I like it. I’ll skip the paycheck to make sure these assholes go to prison where they belong—or you get a hold of them so they can’t pull that shit again.”

“That leaves Mr. Tawnlen.”

Beatrice waved off my concern. “He’ll do it because he wants to protect his people. When he finds out you’re a prime suspect, he’ll want to either prove your innocence or your guilt. All things considered, it’ll be simple enough to prove your innocence.”

“It’s hard to be in two places at the same time.”

“Right. And a lot of people witnessed you hobbling down the street at the time of the murder. You’re pretty distinctive, especially with those damned gaudy glasses.”

“My glasses are not gaudy.”

“They’re gaudy.” Beatrice pointed at my purple winged frames. “If those get any bigger, they’ll take flight and run away on you.”

“But I like them.”

Jezabella laughed. “I think they’re cute. I don’t remember you wearing glasses.”

“Head trauma from the crash. I’m lucky that my prescription doesn’t change much, but the accident broke something in my head, and it damaged my vision. They’re not really sure what happened, as my eyes seem okay under the scans, but they won’t focus properly. They suspect some form of brain damage in the occipital lobe.”

“Could you repeat that in English?” the young woman requested.