Page 11 of Horn of Winter

“Indeed, because she’s well aware operating her business inside a prison cell would be nigh on impossible. And yes,” Sgott added, before I could say anything, “I’ll still talk to her.”

He wouldn’t be the only one talking to her, but I wisely kept that to myself. “Given both men shot themselves rather than be caught and questioned, it’d be wise to have a sniffer and a pixie present to make the relevant checks at the autopsy.”

“And now you’re telling me how to do my job?”

I grinned and held up my hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Then you’d best be giving me your statement and go home. And don’t forget, we’ve the commemoration at one.”

Mathi’s gaze shot to mine, his eyebrows rising. “You got an invite?”

I shook my head. “I’m Sgott’s plus-one.”

“Interesting.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Because as far as I’m aware, they weren’t including partners on any invitations because of the sheer number of people who’d dealt with Gethen over the centuries wishing to pay their respects.”

My frown grew. “Then perhaps it was a mistake.”

“And perhaps it was Cynwrig’s way of getting around formalities.”

“Why would he do that for someone like me?” Someone who was a good time, not a long time.

“Why indeed?” His expression was speculative, but he didn’t elaborate. “Either way, if the invitation is for two, it would be considered rude if Sgott did not bring a companion.”

“Which is why I invited you, Beth,” Sgott commented. “Cynwrig knows well enough that Lugh is the only other person I’d consider bringing, and I wouldn’t call he and Cynwrig close.”

“Not in the same manner as he and I are, at least,” I said, with a twitch of my lips.

“Indeed. Now, best be giving me your statement.”

Once I had, Mathi and I left, walking silently through the many gravestones and tombstones, the occasional ghost our only companions.

“Do you want a lift home?” Mathi said, as we once again reached the old metal gate.

“No, but I would like a lift to Kaitlyn’s.”

“Sgott will not be pleased.”

“Sgott no doubt has every expectation that I’ll be doing this very thing.”

“Which doesn’t negate my statement at all. The car is this way.”

“You drove?” I said, surprised.

“Of course not.”

I laughed and slipped my arm through his arm. “So, you admonish me for dragging you out of a warm bed, but you do the very same thing to your poor chauffeur.”

“Henrick is very well paid to cater to out-of-hours avocations.”

“And, of course, sworn to secrecy.”

“No need, given he is well aware of what happens to those who tattle on a Dhar-Val.”

“There you go, horrifying and intriguing me all at once.”

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