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“Yes.” Valen watched the man as he stood at the open door, greeting the customers who trickled into the salon. He had a sleazy smile pinned to his lips and a habit of stroking his handsover the women as they passed him. “I’m assuming it’s Richard Pascal.”
Peri abruptly muttered a curse as a woman with long dark hair threaded with gray appeared from around the corner.
“That’s my mother.”
Valen studied the woman wearing tailored slacks and a satin shirt that was cut with a wide neckline to reveal the raven tattooed on the side of her throat. She was as beautiful as her daughter with perfectly sculpted features and lush lips, but there was a cold arrogance visible even in the fuzzy video. As she stepped through the door, Richard Pascal reached out as if intending to pat her ass. His hand jerked back before it ever made contact, his body growing rigid with shock. Valen leaned forward, studying the man’s face. It looked as if he’d seen a ghost.
“He recognizes her,” he murmured.
“He doesn’t look happy to see her.” Peri’s jaw tightened. “Not an uncommon reaction.”
Brenda Sanguis disappeared into the building and Richard followed behind her, closing the door. Two hours later the customers streamed back onto the street, including Brenda, who was holding a box identical to the one they’d seen hidden in her cabin. Valen assumed it was the statue that held the essence of the miasma.
The minutes passed until eventually the lights in the Masque Salon were switched off. Valen reached down to press a key to fast-forward it to the next morning. At exactly 8:00 a.m. a large delivery van pulled in front of the building and four men began loading various crates and boxes from inside the auction house into the back. They finished with the larger pieces of furniture.
“Well, we know he wasn’t robbed,” Peri said as Richard appeared on the sidewalk to talk to the men dressed in blue uniforms. “He arranged to have the business closed down.”
Valen nodded, taking in Richard’s rumpled clothes and the nervous twitch that hadn’t been there the night before.
“He looks scared,” he said.
“Yeah, and he’s in a hurry to get out of there,” Peri added as the man glanced at the watch wrapped around his wrist.
Valen turned his attention to the delivery van that was pulling away. “It’s a plain truck and there’s no way to read the license plate number. It’s going to be impossible to trace.”
The video continued to flicker as the man turned back to watch a woman round the edge of the building, as if she’d parked around the corner. She halted on the sidewalk next to him.
“There.” Peri pressed her finger against the monitor. “He’s handing her a set of keys. He must trust her.”
They watched as the woman took the keys and said something to Richard that seemed to annoy him. With a shake of his head, he stepped into the building and slammed shut the door. The woman yelled something before tossing her head and stomping back around the corner.
“He might trust her, but he doesn’t want to talk to her,” Valen murmured, pressing the fast-forward key.
“Maybe not, but he’s still alive at this point. She couldn’t have been the one to kill him.”
They fell silent as they watched the video roll through the hours. The building remained locked tight for the rest of the day and into the evening. It wasn’t until nearly midnight that a shadow appeared at the edge of the building. The form slid forward until it reached the door. Holding out its hand, there was a flash of light as if a firework had exploded. Or a spell.
The glow was muted, but it was enough to reveal a familiar face before the intruder was shoving open the door and disappearing into the building.
“Mother,” Peri rasped, fisting her hands at her side as they watched the video for what felt like an eternity.
At last the shadowed form reappeared, closing the door before disappearing into the darkness.
“Oh my God.” Peri shook her head, clearly struggling to accept the truth of what they’d just seen. “Why would she break into the Masque Salon in the middle of the night?”
Valen hesitated, reluctant to cause her more pain. “Could she have gone back to kill him?”
She slowly unclenched her hands, as if forcing herself to release the shock clouding her mind.
“My mother is certainly capable of killing Richard Pascal if he stood in the way of what she wanted. Or if she thought he posed a danger. But there’s no way she could have set the snare. She was a powerful witch, but only a mage could have…oh.”
“You thought of something.”
“If she had the statue with her, it might have given her additional power.”
“That seems the obvious explanation,” Valen agreed, continuing to fast-forward through the video until it reached the moment when they’d arrived last evening.
Turning off the video, he turned to face Peri. He didn’t have to point out that no one else had entered the building after her mother had left. Not until they’d arrived to find Richard dead.
