Page 64 of Capitol Matters

Holland shook her head, unsettling white tresses. “There’s nothing you can say. It’s not your fault. I’m sure you’ve suffered,” her face twisted, “unspeakable things. And I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it. They ruined something beautiful. Something I loved.”

If I hadn’t already been speechless, that would have done it.

“I shouldn’t complain,” she said after a pause. “I lost a friend, but you lost everything.”

The Volvo’s horn honked, making us both jump. Preston leaned out the window to pound on the door. Holland swiveled and held up one finger to him. Not the finger I would have used, though.

Facing me once more, she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Fitch. And of course, you’re welcome at the gala. I’ll save you a seat.”

I watched her walk down the path to the driveway, where she dropped into Preston’s car. The ambassador gave a parting wave before steering the Volvo down the tree-lined drive. The taillights glowed dimly as they faded into the distance, well out of sight by the time I heard the home’s front door close behind me.

Maximus stood on the porch, sharing my silence until he said, “I wondered what you were getting out of all this.”

Had he been listening? Lurking within earshot of everything Holland and I had said?

Trying to keep from appearing guilty was easier than stopping myself from feeling it. I raced through a mental recap of the conversation, unsure of what prompted Maximus’s statement until he clarified.

“Your brother’s alive. That’s wonderful news.”

“Shit.”

Did I say that out loud?

A laugh swelled the older man’s chest. “I’m surprised Grimm let him live. He must have hoped he’d end up with another like you. That would have been quite formidable, wouldn’t it?”

Instead, he got something downright ordinary.

Maximus walked down the steps to join me. “Well, Iwish Donovan the best. And, if securing his future is the price for your service to the Capitol, I think it’s a fair one.”

His knowledge of my brother’s survival may not have been as damaging as it would have been while I was known to be working with the Bloody Hex. And so far, Donovan retained his apparent innocence. His only murder went unsolved, swept away by the plague crisis that followed immediately after.

“Good,” I said, then added, “I can still use the money, though.”

A rumbling chuckle preceded Maximus clapping his hand against my back. “Now, what was so urgent that it brought you to my door on a Sunday afternoon?”

“I’ve got a body in the car.”

His eyes shuttered. He appeared to be waiting for the punchline to my joke, but I had nothing more to say.

After a few seconds, a smile cracked his placid façade. “Discreet you are not, Mister Farrow. Very well. Show me.”

I’d had less than an hour when I first walked outside. How much of that time had I wasted? Minutes remained between Maximus finding an apparent corpse in the back of the Bronco, or a very confused woman missing her stolen lobster roll.

I hurried to the car, rushing to put a few feet between Maximus and me as I let the tailgate down and peered into the cargo area. Motionless and silent, Sleeping Beauty snoozed away. Better than sleep, this deathlike state stilled even the scarcest breath and had me doubting Vinton’s assurance that he hadn’t killed her,after all.

I was so focused on the search for signs of life that Maximus’s approach gave me a start. I gulped a breath as he leaned past me to scrutinize the presumed corpse.

“Such a shame,” he clucked his tongue. “How did you do it? I don’t see any wounds.”

“I… uh… stopped her heart.”

I’d done it before. Threaded magic between a man’s ribs to bind up his organs and wring the juices out.

Maximus glanced at me, and surprise lit his face. “Remarkably talented,” he said, harkening back to his claims to Preston.

“That’s me,” I muttered.

I hoped stepping back would encourage the older man to do the same, but Maximus shifted closer instead. Worry chilled me as I fought quickening breaths. Could the empath sense my concern? Was that why he felt the need to study Sleeping Beauty so intently?

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