Page 57 of The Elementalist
“Hmm. That might work. Any idea what he might be involved with where I could start looking?”
“You’re not going to like it.” She flashed a cheesy smile. “The best sources of dirt on such people are the other Founding Families. They keep track of each other like the CIA. I bet most of them even know what I am. I suppose we could try talking to my family to start out with, but they haven’t been on speaking terms with me in a while… except my mother and Dana, and…” She bowed her head, close to tears.
I hurried over to sit beside her on the couch and put an arm around her. “They might have their issues with you,” I said, “but they would be more upset over your sister, right? It’s mostlikely true that the Farringtons sent those vampires after her specifically to lure you here. Wouldn’t the Bradburys want to retaliate?”
She sniffled, wiped her eyes, then lifted her head to give me this heart-melting stare. How a girl like her—who is pretty damn dangerous—could looksotimid and helpless, I had no damn idea. If she’d asked me in that moment to light myself on fire and jump out the window, I probably would’ve done it.
“Yeah. It’s worth a try at least.” She fanned herself, taking deep breaths. “I’ll need to go back to my place for a more lady-like outfit. Do you have anything nice to wear?”
“Ehh, only the suit I usually wear to court, weddings, or funerals.”
She blinked. “You haveonesuit?”
“Yeah, but it’s at least in good shape.”
“All right. I suppose we can try.”
I stood. “Great. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“We end up dead in a shallow grave.”
“Please tell me you’re exaggerating?”
She smiled and rose to her feet. “You said the worst thing. It’s not likely, but it’s possible.”
I nearly called her a smartass, but she was right. How close to death had we been in the past few days? Too damn close.
“I’ll drive,” she said.
“Seeing as how my truck barely has windows? Good call.”
Crystal rubbed my arm. “Sorry. I feel bad about that. At least let me cover the repairs?”
Half of my brain tried to refuse, feeling guilty for taking money from an innocent girl presently being hunted for her soul. The other half called me a moron. I wound up staring at her, unable to formulate a reply.
“It’s fine. My family might have sent me packing, but Mother made sure I didn’t have to worry too much about money. It’s onereason I live in such a small apartment. Saving. I don’t plan to spend the rest of my life in Ironside. I only need to outlive my bitchy grandmother.”
“She the problem?”
“With Sterling dead, yes.”
“You call your father by his first name?”
She poked me in the side and started for the door. “He wasn’t my father.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
We Could Always Try Diplomacy
Under protest, I changed into my suit before we left.
Not that I had any problem with dressing nice when the situation demanded it, but if anything happened to this suit, I’d need to replace it. Maybe for some people, dropping $500 on a new suit isn’t a big deal… but I use it so rarely, it’s hard to justify the expense. I got it four years ago when one of my cases intersected a murder investigation. I wound up having to show up in court to testify about pictures I’d taken. One would think a cheating spouse investigation wouldn’t end up in the courtroom for a murder trial, but I had a front row seat to an unfaithful husband and someone else’s wife having some lakeside fun at night… and the mistress’ husband showed up with murder in his eyes and—of all things—a samurai sword.
The attack had been too sudden for me to do much about the poor bastard I’d been hired to tail, but I did stop the guy from killing his wife, too. Nothing quite like a .44 magnum to make a dude rearrange his priorities. But, yeah, courtroom, two weddings of my high school friends, and three funerals have been the extent of the need I’ve had to wear a suit.
I tried to make the argument that wearing a $500 suit to the Bradbury mansion would probably bemoreinsulting than my usual blue button down and jeans. Something about them having more respect for my not even trying than showing up in a cheap off-the-rack thing from one of those chain menswear stores. But, she insisted… and emerged from the bedroom of her apartment in a shoulder-baring dark blue dress that sparkled whenever the light hit it just right. It bared quite a bit of her back as well, a thin crisscross of cording holding it together.
“Wow…” I blinked a few times.
