Page 119 of The Wicked

- Visit the gardens at Versailles.

- Pick up gifts for the girls.

- Dance the night away at Le Balajo.

- Drink all the champagne.

- Live out another filthy fantasy.

The call came at four p.m., Paris time. Garrett and I were sitting outside a cute café in the Montmartre, watching the world go by. Okay, Garrett was replying to emails from Tawna, who was holding the fort admirably back in Roseburg, and I was watching the world go by.

We’d spent two weeks in Poland with Marcin, dancing and walking on the beach and exploring Gdansk. Then we’d flown to Valetia to meet with Brie for a weekend since she was in town, and after that, we’d hopped on a plane to Milan, rented a car, and driven through Italy, Switzerland, and France. Because Garrett had made the arrangements, the car was a Ferrari, and our luggage was riding with the security team.

It had been the most amazing six weeks of my life, this period of limbo as we waited for the Bad Samaritan to do something, anything.

And now Parker wanted to speak with me.

“Isn’t this a little early for a chat?” I asked. What was the time over there? Seven a.m.?

“Ding-dong, the warlock’s dead.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Five minutes ago, the cops took EJ away in handcuffs.”

“What?I mean, why? Colt and Luca arrested him?” I asked, just to make sure.

“Not them. The state police. Homicide was mentioned, which is quite ironic because he keeps saying how much he misses Marianna. Maybe they could share a cell?”

Garrett was watching me now. “You okay?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Parker, you’re gonna have to start from the beginning.”

“Sure, I would if I knew what that was. The cops knocked on the door just after six, I showed them through to EJ’s room because I’m a helpful, law-abiding citizen, and they read him his rights. Do you think I should call a lawyer? I’d happily let him rot in jail, but appearances…”

Homicide? My brain was still catching up. And I agreed with Parker—after hearing from Eryk what EJ had done to my dad, how he’d driven him from Baldwin’s Shore, I wanted him to stay in jail for as long as possible. I’d been wrong. Parker did give gifts after all, so many gifts.

“Could you call a really bad lawyer?”

Parker gave a rare chuckle. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“And I’ll call Luca. Maybe he’s heard something about the arrest. Oh, wait—he’s actually calling me. I’ll get back to you, okay?”

“Who got arrested?” Garrett asked as I juggled calls.

“EJ. Shh. Hey, Luca.”

Garrett waved down a passing waiter and asked for a bottle of champagne with two glasses. A knot of tension tightened in my stomach because what was this about?

“How’s France?” Luca asked.

“It’s wonderful. We went to the Moulin Rouge last night.”

“Is that the thing with the windmill and the strippers?”

“The dancers are only topless, and it’s very tasteful.” But who cared at this moment? “Is it true? Did EJ get arrested?”

Luca barked out a laugh. “The state police let us know ‘as a courtesy’ after they took him away.”

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