AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I raised my eyebrows, feigning alarm. “You’ve been checking up on me? Why? What have I done?”
She waved a hand, a motion that was meant to be reassuring. “Nothing. I simply did some research on all witches who currently inhabit this reservation. One can never be too careful.”
One couldn’t—it was a motto I’d lived the last twelve years by.
“Why?” I gestured at the photo she’d yet to pick up. “Do you think we’re responsible for this woman’s disappearance?”
“No. But hiding secrets? Most definitely.”
Which we are, Belle said.
Yes, but just how deeply into the puzzle we present is she willing to go?
Deep enough to make her dangerous.
I take it you’ve managed to get through her shields?
Only enough to catch emotions more than distinct thoughts, Belle said. This psi protection band is far stronger than the ones the IIS or even Monty had on.
“When Elizabeth disappeared,” Daniela was saying, “her friend and familiar—Isabelle Sarr—went with her. I find it a rather large coincidence you and your friend have the same first names and family coloring of our missing witches.”
“Elizabeth and Isabelle aren’t exactly rare names.” Monty’s voice was dry. “Last time I was up in Canberra, the place was littered with witches bearing those names.”
“You will also have noted how rare it is for a Marlowe witch to be hanging around with a Sarr.”
“I’m not a Marlowe,” I said, voice even despite the increasingly violent churning in my gut, “no matter how much I resemble one.”
Daniela’s expression was disbelieving.
“Well, if the other Elizabeth is here,” Monty said, drawing her attention away from me again, “she might be hard to find. There’re plenty of places within the reservation where a person intent on remaining unfound can hide.”
“We suspect her hiding is being done in plain sight,” Daniela said. “And we’ve traced her as far as Peak’s Point.”
It was all I could do to stand still, to not react. We’d been driven out of Peak’s Point by the Fitzgerald brothers—who were more carnival tricksters than actual witches—and had left them with a parting gift involving rats. Their response had been to send a sharpshooter after us—and if he’d managed to track us here, then it was no surprise a tracer had.
Something neither of us even thought about, Belle said, mental tone gloomy.
If she talked to anyone, it would have been the brothers rather than the sharpshooter. He’s locked up in Melbourne. They’re not.
Ashworth had never really told us how much prison time the brothers had been given, but they’d certainly be serving it in Canberra, as that’s where the main witch jail was located.
“Pike’s Peak is a fair way from the Faelan Reservation,” Monty commented. “Why are you so certain she came here?”
“I interviewed the two men who hired a sharpshooter to take Ms. Grace out.” Her gaze flicked to me. “And they swear you are the person in the photo.”
A cool smile touched my lips. “Meaning you’re choosing to believe two charlatans convicted of attempted murder over both my statement and the evidence of your own eyes. In which case, I guess there’s no point in me saying anything else, is there?” I glanced at Monty. “If you need anything else—or if you find something belonging to the missing woman and want me to attempt a tracing, you know where to find me. In the meantime, I’d better get back to work. Pleasant meeting you, Ms. Sarr.”
Oh, pleasant and yet catty at the same time, Belle said. Bravo.
Nothing I say or do is going to make a difference now. As the old quote goes, ‘the end is nigh.’
I turned and walked away. And, no matter how much I wanted to race back upstairs and down the bottle of Glenfiddich I had stashed in my wardrobe, I forced myself to remain behind the counter and serve as if there was absolutely nothing wrong. As if my safe little world wasn’t on the brink of utter collapse.
Monty and Daniela stayed for another half hour, the two of them chatting in a friendly enough manner. Things had quietened down by the time they departed, so I left Penny with orders to call me down if things got hectic again and headed upstairs.
Belle handed me a large glass of whiskey. “Whatever happens, happens. It’s no use worrying about it now.”
I gulped down half the drink, felt the burn all the way down to my stomach. It didn’t entirely calm the churning but it did go some way to easing it.
