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I let out a sigh and took the stairs behind Barbie’s desk up to the main work floor. Along the far wall was a room with more windows than walls, and I could see Mercedes and Tyler sitting next to each other at a table. I weaved my way through the sea of metal desks until I was in the open doorway, tapping at the frame to announce my presence.
“Secret,” Mercedes said with a small smile. “Thanks for coming. ”
She and Tyler rose, and both shook my hand. As always, I flushed with pleasure from Tyler’s firm grip.
We’d had an ill-fated blind date. It had gone perfectly until a group of vampire wardens had been forced to wipe his memory so he’d forget how I’d ginsued a trio of rogue vampires on a subway platform.
And you thought your dating life was hard.
Now he thought I’d bailed on our date without rhyme or reason. I was that girl. I gave him my best smile, but he only stared back with detached indifference. I wished I could explain things to him, but now that I was one third of the vampire Tribunal, it was extra impossible to defy the rules.
I took off my cropped motorcycle jacket and eased into the chair across from them. The three of us sat in silence, and I had no intention of being the one to break first. I was part vampire, after all, and I could stay quiet for an irritating length of time.
Tyler cleared his throat and placed a manila folder in the middle of the desk.
“Do you have a queasy stomach, Miss McQueen?”
“It’s Secret. And no. ” My werewolf half had a bad habit of needing to win staring contests, and I didn’t look away until he did.
He nudged the folder towards me, but I didn’t bite. Curiosity killed the cat, but I was a wolf. I leaned back in my chair and kept watching them. If they thought I was guilty of something, being too eager to see the evidence would only make me look worse. And since I didn’t know if I actually was guilty or not, I didn’t want to be too rash. I’d killed plenty of people—or at least monsters that looked like people—but none without reason. Try explaining that to the human police, though, and you come across like a psychopath. They didn’t tend to love the they had it coming logic.
It was Mercedes who broke the silence. “Secret, we’ve asked you here because we know you and Mr. Keats specialize in more…unusual cases than most PIs in the city. What we’ve got on our hands right now definitely qualifies as unusual. ”
“You want my help?” Considering just last night Cedes had rebuffed the offer, I was interested in what had happened to bring on such an official change of heart.
“Did you think we brought you in for something more sinister?” Tyler’s tone was sarcastic but maintained a note of genuine curiosity. I caught his eye and frowned.
“The invitation was a little mysterious. ”
“I thought you liked to be cloaked in mystery,” he countered.
I snorted. “Am I here to offer a professional opinion, or am I here so you can get in a few long-awaited jabs at my expense, Nowakowski?” I felt bad for being so harsh, but I wasn’t willing to be dragged through the mud for something I didn’t deserve. He frowned and drummed his fingers on the table but said nothing.
“We’ve been trying to keep this case quiet for as long as possible,” Mercedes confessed. “But tomorrow the Times and Post are going live with a vengeance. ”
She flipped open the folder, and a dozen glossy photos fluttered out across the table towards me. At first I couldn’t make sense of them, but when I picked one up to get a better look, my stomach clenched.
“Is that…?”
“That one was found on the desk of the Times editor. ” She handed me another. “This one at the Post. And this one…” She put a third photo in my hands. “This one was delivered to my desk this afternoon. ”
Each photo was of a cheery Christmas stocking, red boot with a fuzzy white trim, crammed full of body parts. And judging by the red-hued, ragged edges of the pieces, they wouldn’t fit back together all too cleanly. I shoved the photos into the folder and slapped it shut.
“Who delivered the packages?” I asked, trying to drive the images from my mind.
“That’s part of what’s so weird. There were no deliveries. The boxes weren’t mailed or dropped off. They just showed up,” Mercedes explained.
Tyler exhaled loudly through his nose.
“Is there any way to hold the press off?” This kind of story would create a frenzy in the city. People were already frantic this time of year. Throw in a serial killer who ripped people apart and shit would hit the fan.
Tyler spoke up at last. “The Post is shitting themselves. Can you imagine how long they’ve been waiting to use the headline Ho-Ho-Homicide? The Times won’t be scooped by the Post on a story this big. Especially when Ellen Klein has blood all over her editorial desk. No, we can’t hold the press off. ”
I played with the edge of the folder, nervous energy rattling through my body. “What do you think I can do to help?”
“We know you and Keats have dealt with some strange customers…” Mercedes was trying to phrase things as delicately as possible with Tyler around. My guess was he’d
insisted on sitting in on the meeting, not wanting her to commandeer lead detective on what might be the biggest case of their careers. I couldn’t blame him, but it made it difficult for Cedes to tell me what she needed.
