Page 67 of The Vampire and the Case of the Baleful Banshee

‘Some akpik?’ I queried.

‘A lot of akpik,’ he admitted.

‘You weren’t at your post because you were drunk?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Who gave you the tip about the horse?’

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘Mr Wintersteen. He was making conversation before he went in the house. He knows I like the horses.’

‘Does Mr Wintersteen like the horses?’

‘Not as far as I know, but he said a friend of his had told him Sierra Dash was a sure thing.’

‘His mate was wrong.’

His glare intensified. ‘No shit.’

I wondered how much Snow had lost but it didn’t really matter. He’d given into his addiction and he’d been betting and drinking rather than manning his post. Stan had originally said that Snow was solid and that he trusted him, but I bet if I asked Stan now he’d give me a different answer. But I felt bad for Snow; gambling was an addiction and he needed help. ‘If you want to kick the habit–’ I started.

‘I know about Gambler’s Anonymous,’ he growled unhappily. ‘Stan is making me go. I don’t need you sticking your nose into my business. We’re done here.’

I didn’t have any more questions so I let him walk out. I didn’t think he was involved in either of the gem thefts. He didn’t like paying money for the barrier’s maintenance because he was broke due to his gambling. Some of the other protestors were fanatical about the barrier but Snow was just low-key pissed off. He wasn’t the person I was looking for.

While I waited for Ezra, I called the hospital. Nora Sullivan’s condition was critical but stable; Jayden Donaldson was in surgery for his ruined shoulder. Both of them would be unavailable for several more hours.

Ezra Taylor strolled in, neatly dressed and a little full of himself. I’d warmed to him when he’d helped me during the tsunami warning but there was no room for personal feelings in this business. ‘Fanged Flopsy,’ he greeted me, his tone a shade mocking.

‘Mr Taylor, thank you for coming so promptly. Follow me.’

I led him into the interview room but when I went to hit record, he objected. ‘No. Off the record.’

I hadn’t had an ‘off the record’ situation before. I wouldn’t be able to use anything he said in a court case against him – but it might mean he would talk more frankly. In the end I nodded and dropped my hand. I remained standing whilst he sat down because I thought it would give me a psychological advantage, but wouldn’t you know it? He leaned back in his chair, stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles, then laced his fingers together and tucked his hands behind his head. His body language was saying he was completely comfortable and he owned the place.

I narrowed my eyes. ‘Are you quite done, Mr Taylor?’

He smirked. ‘Just getting comfy, love.’

‘Uh-huh. Talk to me about the barrier.’

He raised a smooth, blond eyebrow. ‘What’s to say? I think it is a travesty, nothing more than a long con by the witches to bleed us dry. And I know you’re going to say otherwise, but you’re either in on it or you’re ignorant.’

‘I’m so glad you clarified my options,’ I said sarcastically. We weren’t recording so I could let a hint of mockery come out to play. He certainly wasn’t showing me any respect and I didn’t like his attitude. Things had definitely slid backwards since the tsunami alert.

I gritted my teeth and tried to improve the situation. ‘I’ve been beyond the barrier, Mr Taylor. I’ve seen the monster.’ I let fear show on my face. ‘If it gets into town, it will kill us all. The barrier is a necessity, not a frivolity. We’re not keeping out keeluts.’

He studied me for a long moment then leaned forward and put his hands down on the metal desk. His arrogant mask had bled away. ‘I believe that you believe that,’ he said slowly.

‘Then how do you explain it?’ I asked in exasperation. ‘If you know I believe I saw the monster…’

‘Because, Officer Barrington, we live in a world of magic and the Grimes brothers are two of the strongest illusion witches in the world. Do you seriously expect me to believe that they’re here to – what? Brew moonshine?’ His voice was incredulous. ‘No, they’re here to facilitate the con, to create the occasional illusion to convince the masses to keep on paying the witches through the nose.’

Damn, that was a good argument. It took me a moment to rally. ‘And what of Kivuk? The vampire? The Savik brothers?’

‘More illusion. The hunters died in a tragic accident and someone – probably a well-paid shifter – tore their bodies apart for you to find.’

‘And the Grimes brothers were hiding behind a nearby bush casting illusions of the creature?’

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