Page 25 of Secrets of the Eternal Flame

Rather than Gwen greeting her the way I expected her to do with a customer, the old goblin tapped her watch pointedly. ‘You’re two minutes late,’ she groused. ‘You know that means you’ll have to stay an extra five minutes to make up for it.’

The fae pressed her lips tightly together. It was obvious she’d have liked to snipe back but instead she turned and looked at me. ‘Hello,’ she said politely, blanking Gwen. ‘Are you looking for anything in particular?’

‘You work here?’ I said, stating the obvious as a conversation starter.

‘Yes. I’m Scarlett.’

I was guessing she’d been named for her looks; like me she had red hair, which today she’d paired with lipstick ofexactly the same shade. I rarely managed such coordination; I rarely cared to.

‘Hi, Scarlett.’ I stretched out my hand to greet her. ‘I’m Beatrix Stonehaven. I’m helping Gwen get to the bottom of her miss— stolen items.’

A flicker of annoyance crossed Scarlett’s face. It was only small but it was obvious, and I wondered if the fleeting expression was because she was the thief or because, like Yanni, she thought Gwen was being ridiculous.

Knowing that I needed to get Scarlett alone to talk to her properly, I turned to Gwen. ‘Do you think you could get me a glass of water?’ I asked. ‘It’s hard to think in this heat and I’d hate to miss any clues.’

With a grudging twist of her lips that might have passed as a smile, she nodded. ‘Fine.’ She turned to leave, only to turn back and point her finger at Scarlett. ‘Why don’t you busy yourself with some dusting?’ she said. ‘Not that you’re any good at it. And don’t get in the detective’s way. She’s got a job to do. The last thing she needs is you slowing her down.’

With that, she disappeared, and I knew that if this were truly a theft I already had my first suspect. Disgruntled employees were the most common culprit behind corporate thefts, and judging by the way Gwenwas talking to Scarlett, the fae had plenty of reasons to be disgruntled.

The game was afoot.

Chapter Sixteen

I waited until I was sure Gwen was out of earshot before I lowered my voice and began. ‘I’m not a detective, but I’m helping Gwendolen by looking into what might have happened with the missing items. I’m a private investigator.’

Scarlett looked at me blankly. ‘Okay.’

‘She doesn’t sound like the easiest person to work for,’ I said, still speaking quietly in case Gwen came back faster than I’d anticipated.

Rather than replying, Scarlett’s lips tightened and her cheeks drew inwards as if she were chewing the insides of them nervously. When she finally spoke, her words were carefully measured. ‘I’m very lucky to have this job. Gwen didn’t have to take me on but, like she said, it was a favour to my grandmother. I’m grateful to her for that.’

She didn’t say ‘if nothing else’, but I heard it all the same. I wondered why she felt lucky to have the job. Gwen evidently treated her like shit, so what in Scarlett’spast made her think she deserved that? She struck me as quite a diplomatic individual, though there was no reason why she couldn’t be skilled in both diplomacyandpick-pocketry.

‘What do you think about the mug and the grimoire? Do you think they were stolen?’ I asked. I lowered my mental shields a little to see what I could glean from her. I got annoyance and exasperation, but both of those could easily be explained away by being forced to answer my questions and by Gwen’s irascible nature.

‘I don’t think so,’ she said eventually. ‘Gwen loved that mug – shealwayshad it with her. She clung to it like a child with a safety blanket and it was the only one she would drink out of. If it was stolen, the thief must have clawed it out of her hands, which doesn’t seem likely. And the grimoire was always on display in the window and now it’s not. I remember the day she realised it wasn’t there because she caused an absolute stink, so she certainlythinksit was taken.’

She lowered her voice. ‘But she’s forgetting things more and more. I came in the other day for my afternoon shift and the shop was closed. When I went round to her house to find out what had happened, she got angry and said that we didn’t open on Sundays. But it was a Friday, which is normally one of the busiest days of the week, especiallywhen the weather’s like this and everyone is running to the beach on their lunch breaks.’

‘Can you remember exactly when the items disappeared?’ I asked.

‘I know she went to the police last Tuesday about the grimoire, but she was in a tizzy for a couple of days before that. It could’ve been about not being able to find the mug ... or not being able to find other things. I don’t know. Gwen often has moods and they’re not always to do with the shop. But I struggle to believe she’s simply misplaced the mug considering how obsessed she is with it. I could see it being at home on her bedside table, though.’

It was strange to imagine somebody having such an attachment to a drinking vessel. Me? I would drink my Oyster Bay out of whatever was available – pint glasses, mugs, a plastic beach bucket… My teenage years involved more than one drink out of a cauldron – alcohol obviously, not potions. Mostly.

I heard a noise that signalled Gwen’s imminent return. ‘Can you think of anybody who might want to steal these things? Do you get regular shoplifters? People hanging about?’

Scarlett shrugged. ‘There are always teenagers hanging about at the beach, but—’

Before she could say any more, Gwen trotted back in carrying a plate with a biscuit on it. She thrust it at me. ‘As if you need a snack on the job,’ she bitched.

My stomach sank. She’d clearly got muddled: I’d asked for water, not for cookies.

‘So, I suppose she’s been saying I’m losing my mind and that this is all some silly misunderstanding,’ Gwen snapped, glaring at Scarlett. ‘What has she told you? That I lose things all the time? That it’s like the situation with the three missing wands? Well, it’s not. And just so you know, only two of those wands reappeared. I still believe the other was stolen.’

A mug and a grimoire were one thing; was I going to have to start looking into wands now as well? ‘No, she’s not been saying anything like that,’ I said, feeling like Scarlett needed someone on her side since Gwen obviously wasn’t. ‘She was saying how much the mug meant to you.’

Gwen looked perturbed. ‘Oh, well ... yes. Yes, it did. It’s the perfect shape to drink out of.’

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