Page 88 of Tested
“O–kay.” Brodie drags out the word. “Does that person have a death wish? Because it seems like he or she must.”
“Hell if I know. I am inclined to track this person down before the hypothetical detective gets to him. I mean, I don’t know that the hypothetical detective is our murderer, but if he’s not involved somehow, why lie about interviewing a murder victim?”
“It kinda does place him at the scene of the crime.”
“Anyway.” I scan the area. Smith is long gone. “I might need you to pull that police report, since I don’t have the same level of access anymore.”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” Mind on how I’m going to find Joey DelMarco, I pop the door open again.
“Hey.” Brodie punctuates his exclamation with a honk on the horn.
“Yes?”
“You got another problem, son.”
Shit. The Morrigan. “I’m out of time, aren’t I.”
“Yes, and that freaky hag is breathing down Poole’s neck. I hope you have an answer that’ll send her on her way.”
I flop back in the seat, fists knocking against my forehead.
“I’m going to take that as a no.”
My laugh is somewhere between cynical and bitter. “I haven’t found the princess, no, but I’m pretty sure I know where she is.”
“And…?”
“I think her spirit’s in the netherworld and her body’s in a bathroom closet at Jacques Betancourt’s residence.”
“Let’s get a search warrant and look.”
My answering laugh holds actual mirth. “Yeah, private investigator, dude. It’s not that easy. And, lest you forget, but my significant other is a scion of Betancourt’s, and the fallout from a full-on inquisition would be grim.”
Brodie gives me a wtf shrug. “So…tell the Morrigan that Betancourt has her and walk away.”
“Yeah, can’t do that, either.”
“Because? Also, things arenevereasy with you, I swear to god.”
I ignore his sarcasm. “Because I spoke with an elven flunky, a guy named Sam Kowalski. I wanted to know why the Morrigan’s so hot to find Princess Tatiana. According to him, they had something of anaffaire du cœur, and the elves didn’t immediately notice the princess was missing because they assumed she was hiding from an angry god-adjacent creature.”
Brodie stares over the steering wheel, with an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression. “That actually makes things easier,” he finally says.
“How?”
“Call Kowalski right now and tell him he’s got twenty-four hours to get the princess’s body away from Betancourt’s house.”
I open my mouth to argue with him, then close it when the beauty in his idea hits me. “That could actually work.”
“Sure. Tell Kowalski to get her, then tell the Morrigan that Betancourt’s to blame. The princess is more or less safe and the Morrigan has a punching bag.”
“And I have time to find Joey DelMarco.”
“Is that the genius who’s looking for a payout?”
“That’s my boy.”
