Page 105 of Amber Gambler

“I can’t drink on the clock,” Carter countered, “but I’ll watch you do it.”

After conferring with a tall man with dark skin and short hair more salt than pepper, she returned to us. I felt his stare boring into me. A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes when he caught me looking back. As the doors closed between us, he tipped his head as if saying he would see me again.

“Who was that?” I bristled at his certainty. “The guy you were talking to just now?”

“Chief Leer.” She pulled out a bag of cheddar puffs. “He’s taken a personal interest in this case.”

“As long as it’s the case and not me.”

The suspicion he had driven out to get a look at me, not the crime scene, left me uneasy.

So did Carter’s lack of response.

“You’re riled up,” she said as we filed out into the lobby. “Did something happen on the way here?”

“Harrow called while I was sitting in the parking lot. He wants to meet at Wormsloe tonight.”

“Come alone or else?” Her jaw clicked as she slid it back and forth. “He’s a damn fool if he thinks?—”

“I’m not risking Matty. I’ll go in, listen to his excuses, take my brother, and leave.”

The weight of Kierce’s displeasure sizzled across my senses as he turned to me. “We can’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust him. At all. Not after this.” I rested my hand on his arm. “I would love to have backup, trust me. I don’t want to face him on my own. I’m afraid I might kill him. I wish I could bring you with me, but I would be endangering Matty. Harrow has a short fuse when it comes to you. His temper’s not that much better when it comes to Carter, or I would let her come.” I kept my voice firm. “I have to do this alone.”

“We’ll snag him when he leaves.” Carter included Kierce in her plan. “As soon as Matty is safe, it’s on.”

So much for the firmness of my tone intimidating them into behaving themselves.

“You can sky barbecue him for all I care, just let me get my brother first.”

“Sky barbecue?” Carter made a choking noise. “Are you asking Kierce to strike him with lightning?”

“No.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I didn’t mean that.”

Though I would hold that punishment in reserve, depending on the condition I found Matty in.

“I wouldn’t think any less of you.” Kierce bounced Badb on our way to the empty bar, convincing me the jiggle-walk we do when carrying babies is genetically coded into all species. “The call is yours.”

“As an officer of the law, I’ve got to veto murder. Also? Asking for divine intervention counts as premeditation.”

We chose a booth in the back, waited for a yawning waitress to amble over, then placed our orders.

Alcohol helped ease my fraying nerves, but as we outlined our plan, I restrained myself from reaching for harder stuff. And as I sipped a mojito, I swear I tasted a Bijou.

Wormsloe Plantation wasthe colonial estate of Noble Jones, built on the Isle of Hope between 1739 and 1745, from a mixture known as tabby. Famous for its breathtaking avenue of live oaks draped in curling Spanish moss, Wormsloe was a favorite locale for the film industry and an even more popular wedding venue. Weirdly enough, given its history, I had never seen a ghost there.

Fifteen minutes before our agreed upon time, I walked under the wide arch leading into the historic site. Harrow must have magicked the gates open. Otherwise, they closed around five each afternoon. Had he meant it as a good faith gesture? Offering me a clear path? Driving home I was free to leave at any time?

The milelong avenue was too exposed for Harrow to risk meeting me there. He hadn’t specified where I should go. I figured he would find me when I got close. Probably near the partial walls, sections of which stood eight feet tall, where they could shield him. And hide Matty.

Without Badb circling overhead as Kierce’s eye in the sky, I was reminded how vulnerable I was and also why Badb wouldn’t be flying anywhere for days yet. If Kierce hadn’t planted that tree, she wouldn’t ever fly again. Except in whatever afterlife was granted to crows.

“Right there is far enough.”

A zing of tension shot down my spine. “Where’s Matty?”

“Close and safe.” Harrow’s voice moved closer. “You can have him back as soon as I’ve said my piece.”

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