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63

“Just so. One who broke the oath of loyalty would be harshly dealt with.

Inquisitiveness would not be welcome.”

“How do these groups separate curiosity seekers from true seekers?”

He was silent. Ava took a sip from her champagne and gazed at the star-scattered sky.

She looked rather bored.

“There you are!” Natalie, looking more and more like an escapee from A Midsummer

Night’s Dream as the evening wore on, joined us. “You’re supposed to dance with Lisa.”

I made my excuses and let her drag me away through the forest of shoulder-high pots

of trees, past the swimming pool, and up the stairs. All the time I was thinking that only in

mystery novels was the obvious answer wrong. How many times had Jake jeered at my

efforts to over-complicate crime in my own writing?

The one person who had no reason to lie to me was Angus, and according to Angus, the

benefit of belonging to Blade Sable and the Scythe of Gremory was material as well as

spiritual. Putting aside for a moment the promise of all the world’s lost treasures – and sex

with the world’s most desirable women – what were the more obvious perks of

membership? Money, power, influence, social position. And in order for any of that to

happen, the highest echelon had to consist of a tight network of well-connected A-listers.

The single well-connected occultist A-lister I knew was Oliver Garibaldi. Which meant I

could pretty well discount everything he’d said to me before this evening as a pack of lies.

That wasn’t the alarming part. The alarming part was that he knew that I was belatedly

adding two and two together – and he was not concerned by any answers I drew. It kind of

reminded me of that famous exchange between Holmes and Moriarty.

All that I have to say has already crossed your mind…

Except that I was not Sherlock Holmes. I wasn’t even Watson.

I did my duty on the dance floor and escaped. After a time, I found myself at the bar

again with Bill Dauten.

Bill nodded owlishly. “Enjoying yourself?”

I nodded back. I wasn’t as tight as Bill, but I was drinking too much. That seemed to be

happening a lot again. I wondered if I should be concerned, then decided that since I was

questioning it, probably not.

“Business good?” he inquired.

“Pretty good.”

“It’s a good time of year.”

“Yep.”

He was silent. I tried to think of polite ways to ask if he was tied into a demonic cult.

“So,” I said. “How long have you known Oliver Garibaldi?”

Bill stared at me solemnly. “Oliver and I go way back. He’s a good man to know. Very

useful man to know. Very influential.” He nodded, watching me with his bear-like eyes.

“Very good man to know.”

Swell.

After that we seemed to have run out of things to say. Bill ordered us each another

drink. “Your mother wants you to be happy. That’s the main thing,” he said finally,

apparently continuing an earlier imaginary conversation.

“I’m happy.”

He nodded wisely, patted me on the back with his massive paw, departed.

Starry, starry night above and below. I took a moment to enjoy the spectacular view of

the city lights beneath us when Lisa joined me. “Darling …”

Uh-oh. I knew that wheedling tone of old.

“No,” I said. “Whatever it is, no.”

She gave one of those shimmering laughs. “Oh, Adrien. Now this is serious. What

would you think about hiring Natalie?”

“I would think that I was having a very bad dream. Why?”

“Weeeell, Nattie needs a job. She doesn’t seem to have any direction. It’s ever so

worrying for Bill. And meanwhile, you’re working yourself to death in that awful little shop,

so this would really solve two birds with one stone.”

“Solve two birds? Now there’s a euphemism.”

“Don’t change the subject, Adrien. I’m thinking of what’s best for you. It frightens me

to see you so…fine-drawn.”

“I’ve already hired someone,” I said.

“What does that matter? You can hire as many people as you like, can’t you? And

Nattie would be wonderfully useful to you. She’s such a smart girl. And she’s family.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want to hire her.” Not that my heart didn’t go out to

anyone saddled with the nickname Nattie.

A frown appeared between Lisa’s elegant brows. “That’s a strange comment. How is

hiring your perfectly charming sister any worse than employing That Boy, when anyone

could see he wasn’t normal.”

“Who is?” I muttered, and drained my glass.

She sighed. “Now you’re being silly. I’ve already told Bill that you would, so please

think about it.”

Off she sailed, with the unassailable poise and grace that won her rave reviews in Swan

Lake. I decided I needed another drink and headed for the bar, negotiating my way through

the strategically arranged mattresses and space heaters and potted trees.

On my return journey, I spotted Emma seated on a puffy cushion by the pool. Her hair

was piled on her head, long tendrils framed her face. She wore something pink and frothy

and absurdly formal. She looked bored out of her mind.

“Hi,” I said, drawing up a pillow and lowering myself.

“Hello,” she said gloomily. She was staring at the dancing on the upper level. The music

drifted down. “Fools Rush In.” Probably not her trip. Not mine, either.

On the landing above us, I caught a glimpse of Lisa and Dauten lumbering by in a

foxtrot. Sort of like the dancing bear and his trainer. Nah, that wasn’t fair. He wasn’t bad for

such a mammoth. Lauren and her husband moved stiffly in and out of my line of vision.

My wandering thoughts were recalled by Emma’s abrupt, “Why do you call her Lisa?”

“I just always have.”

She made a disapproving face. “She told me to call her Mummy .”

I blinked. “Did she?” I said finally. This was followed by several long moments of total

and probably none too healthy self-absorption before it registered that the cheese mite

looked unhappy.

“Is that a problem?” I inquired.

“My mom’s dead,” she said flatly.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged a bony shoulder. “Lisa’s okay. But she’s not my mom.” Her eyes met mine

on a sideways slant.

“Maybe she could be a friend to you, though. Me too, maybe.”

63

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