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“So, after work today? Where?”
“She’s going to text me a location.”
“Which you’re going to tell me as soon as you get it.” He gave me a sidelong look, and I gave him an exasperated sigh. “I’m not going to barge in like an affronted girlfriend—though that might be kind of fun. But this is technically my case. I’m the one who’s officially in security. In fact, you might think of it as you reporting to me. I’m your handler, so I need to be up on what’s happening.”
“While you’re telling me to be careful, do I need to remind you to be careful?”
“I’m not the one in danger.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t blow your operation.” That was, unless she did something I could bust her for.
We reached the subway station, where we could no longer have that kind of conversation without being overheard. I hated that we’d left it that way. I didn’t think it counted as an actual fight, but there were some hard feelings. I was sure he thought I didn’t trust him, and I felt like he was disregarding my concerns. I was pretty sure I knew what was going on with him. He wanted to prove himself, to show the magical world that he really was one of the good guys. Never mind that he’d done that already over and over again. I wasn’t sure what it would take, but my fear was that no matter how this case came out, it wouldn’t be what he needed to seal his reputation for good, and it showed every sign of being a big risk that might tarnish him further. I had to remind myself that even Sam thought Owen was our best bet.
Much to my relief, Owen did text me the time and place of his meeting with Matilda, and while I wasn’t planning to barge in, I was going to be there, and I’d need backup. I found Sam at his usual spot on the front awning and said, “They’re on for after work today.”
“The plot thickens. Step into my office.” He waved a wing, and a translucent bubble formed around us. “That’ll hide us from prying eyes and ears. You’re free to talk here.”
I gave him the details on the meeting, then said, “I want eyes on him there, someone who could testify about what he really says or does. And I intend to tail her afterward to see what she does and who she talks to. It might be nice to have at least one gargoyle along, if you’ve got someone you trust.”
“How about me?”
“Yeah, I think you’ll do,” I said with a grin. “Do we have any nonmagical ways of wiring Owen for sound? I’d bet she’ll have prepared to avoid magical eavesdropping.”
“I can set him up. Have you talked to the boss about this?”
“I thought I ought to go through the chain of command.”
“I’ll read him in. I think we’re pretty safe in assuming he won’t be swayed by their influence, and we know he can keep it quiet.”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s likely. Okay, I guess that’s about all we can do for now, unless you can manage to get rid of all the cabs when she leaves the restaurant so it’ll be easier for me to follow her.”
“That’s actually a pretty good thought. The ‘follow that cab’ routine doesn’t work as well in reality as it does in the movies, not if you don’t want to be noticed. But if she does get in a cab, I’ll try to follow.”
My preparation for the operation was to run up to the sidewalk shops in Chinatown to pick up supplies for possibly tailing Matilda—a selection of scarves, sunglasses, and hats that I stuffed into a generic-looking tote bag. I figured it was probably safest not to count on my generic appearance rendering me essentially invisible.
Before the appropriate time, I took my position outside the bar where Owen and Matilda were meeting for drinks. He got there first and took a table by the window, which made it easier to watch. The fact that he’d followed the plan that much was a relief. The time of the meeting arrived and passed, and there was no sign of her. Was she late, or had she spotted the surveillance and bailed? My fingers twitched near my phone as I fought the urge to call Owen and tell him it was off. Was this the time they were going to make something magical happen and frame him? If it was, it was a bad plan, since an odd event at a bar was hardly the sort of thing that would get a lot of attention. That thought kept me from aborting the operation.
She finally arrived about ten minutes after the arranged time, emerging from a cab and sashaying into the bar as though she had all the time in the world. Owen stood to greet her, and I tried not to grit my teeth when she did that air kiss thing, only I got the impression that she made actual contact, and she certainly seemed to linger. She summoned a waiter with an elegant wave, and she leaned forward across the table to talk to Owen. I knew it was probably because they were in a noisy environment and it was necessary for him to hear her, but it looked a lot like she was trying to create a sense of intimacy, especially when she touched his hand whenever she seemed to be emphasizing something she said. My hands hurt, and I realized that I was clenching my fists so hard that my fingernails were digging into my palms. I forced myself to relax and uncurl my fingers. I trusted him, and I knew he wasn’t interested in her romantically. Everything would be okay. I hoped.
They talked for a long time, and I wished I had a feed from Owen’s wire, but he was just recording, not transmitting. The security tech team thought that was safer and less likely to be detected or disrupted. He looked serious, but he so often did, so that didn’t mean anything. He never showed any sign that he’d heard something particularly shocking. He didn’t act angry or surprised. He just nodded as she spoke. She gave every impression of this being a casual get-together. In fact, if I hadn’t known better and had been an impartial observer, I probably would have assumed that this was a first date. She was going overboard on being witty and charming, tossing her hair over her shoulder, smiling, and occasionally laughing. He smiled in response to her laughs.
She ordered a second round of drinks, and the vibe got even friendlier, like they’d finished discussing whatever business there was and were just hanging out. By this time, my legs and back hurt from standing, and I’d run out of things I could do to make myself look inconspicuous. I’d pretended to be on a phone call, had leaned against a wall and pretended to read the newspaper. I’d checked my watch impatiently a few times, like I was waiting for someone who was running late. I finally faked another phone call, to which I responded in exasperation, as though the person I’d been waiting for had bailed on me. I was just returning my phone to my purse and preparing to move on when they finally paid the tab and got up to leave.
They came out of the bar together, and she looked up and down the street for a cab. Thanks to Sam’s intervention, there weren’t any. She and Owen did that air kiss thing again, making my blood boil, and then they turned and walked in opposite directions.
I walked in the same direction as Matilda, staying on the opposite side of the street at first, until she turned. Then I hurried across the street and followed her, keeping far enough back that she wouldn’t feel like she was being tailed, but close enough to keep an eye on her.
I didn’t know how long I’d be able to stay with her. Sam hadn’t been able to block every cab in the city, so she was bound to eventually run into one, but she was close to her neighborhood, which I hoped meant she’d just hoof it home, or wherever else she was going. I wore a hat, sunglasses, and had a brightly colored scarf draped across my shoulders. She turned to glance behind her briefly, and as soon as she turned back around, I quickly pulled off the hat and scarf and put on a different hat and scarf.
Much to my relief, she didn’t go straight home. She went to a park and sat down on a bench. That was going to make keeping an eye on her without being conspicuous a little more challenging. I walked behind her, got behind some trees, took off my jacket, draped another scarf around my shoulders, and changed hats before getting on the sidewalk and approachi
ng as though I was coming from the opposite direction. I was still trying to decide whether I could get away with sitting down on her bench when a man walked past me and took a seat on the opposite end of the bench where she sat. That settled the matter. I wandered casually over to the adjacent bench, separated from them by a spindly tree, and sat with a heavy sigh, as though I’d been walking all day and my feet were killing me. I took my newspaper out of my bag and pretended to work the crossword puzzle.
“How did it go?” he asked. He’d turned to face her, so I couldn’t see his face. I should have tried to get a better look before I sat down, but I’d been afraid to look like I was paying any attention to them.
“Can we talk freely?” she asked.
