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“To get her off the scent,” I said. “She got sent a news release, letting her know that something would be happening. And I can’t believe that we apparently have someone trying to expose magic to the world at large, and you’re far more focused on whether one person who lives among people who are involved in the magical world got told. You’re wasting your time here.”
Jones raised an eyebrow ever so slightly in the closest thing he’d shown to an actual facial expression. “Am I? I seem to be closing in on something.”
13
I wished I could take back what I’d said, even if I’d meant every word. Now I’d made Jabez Jones mad, and he’d go out of his way to link us to the magical crimes, which meant I’d have to find the culprit, with firm evidence, to help Owen escape scrutiny.
“While Miss Chandler could, perhaps, have put that more diplomatically,” Merlin said, his voice icy, “she does have a point. You seem to have an agenda here, one that isn’t entirely about determining who is responsible for these public acts of magic.”
I held my breath, waiting for Jones’s response. All he said was, “Hmmm.” I had to sit on my hands to keep myself from slapping the Hmmm off his face. He made a few notes, shuffled his papers, then said without looking up, “You’re dismissed.”
Merlin flinc
hed ever so slightly, probably because it was rather presumptuous for Jones to dismiss people from Merlin’s office. Merlin said, “Thank you for your time, Miss Chandler, Mr. Palmer, Mr. Gwaltney.” Only then did the three of us rise and leave the office. I wanted to sprint out of there, but forced myself to walk in a dignified manner. Then I was tempted to attempt to listen in through the office doors because I would have loved to have known what Merlin and Jabez Jones said to each other.
“The doors are soundproof,” Trix said when I paused as soon as the doors closed behind us. She took in our angry expressions and said, “That bad, huh? He’s going to be a bear the rest of the day. Not literally. Though I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“What is that guy’s deal?” I demanded.
I’d been speaking more or less rhetorically, but Owen answered anyway. “He’s investigating something that may be a threat to the magical world.” He sounded awfully rational for a person who was the focus of a literal witch hunt.
“Yeah, but if he’s zeroing in on you, he’s missing the boat, in a big way, which is not going to help anyone,” I said.
“It is interesting how he seems to have come to that conclusion,” Rod said. “Given that there’s no real evidence to tie it to you, other than your presence.”
“We don’t know what else he’s looking into,” Owen said. “For all we know, he’s making a big deal of investigating me to throw off the real culprits.”
That was a possibility, I thought, given what I knew about my main suspect. Were they on the same trail? I had a hard time imagining Jabez Jones having enough creativity to be that devious. Then again, maybe all his superficial blandness was the ultimate cover for the world’s greatest investigator.
Whether or not Jones was being clever, I needed to be. It would be a good idea for me to appear to go after an obvious suspect to hide my real investigation. But who made for a good patsy? Gregor?
“I probably ought to check some of those employee files we dug up on our last case,” I said to Rod as we made our way down the stairs toward our respective offices.
“You think someone Collegium-linked is behind this?” he asked.
Boy, did I. But we couldn’t talk about that in this building. “I have some theories. Hey, we should all get together for dinner tonight.” I turned pointedly to Owen. “Your place.”
“It’s kind of a mess,” he began, but then he realized what I meant. “Yeah, okay. Just us three?”
“For now, I think. I’d rather keep everyone else out of this.”
Having a clandestine meeting at his place meant Owen actually left work on time, for a change. I wondered if that might look suspicious. I know if I were observing Owen and saw him leave the office at five, I’d wonder what was going on. Having a wedding to plan gave us some cover, but was it enough?
We picked up Chinese on the way home, and Rod arrived soon after we did. “I suppose you’re wondering why I called you together,” I couldn’t resist saying once we’d served ourselves.
“I really am,” Rod said.
“I have a suspect.”
“Why didn’t you say something when Jabez Jones was grilling us?” Rod asked.
“I’m not really ready to make it official.”
“Now I’m intrigued,” Owen said. “Who is it?”
“Matilda Mayfair,” I declared triumphantly.
I was a little surprised when neither of them protested or said I was totally off-base. “I could see it,” Owen said, nodding. “But what makes you suspect her?”
