Elemental Assassin 02 - Web of Lies (27 page)

“No,” I snapped. “The detective didn’t spend the night, although I invited him to.”

Finn shook his head. “Idiot. The man’s an idiot. But don’t feel bad. I didn’t have any luck myself last night.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean the evening didn’t end with you having a threesome with Violet Fox and Eva Grayson?”

“Touché.”

Finn took another sip of his coffee. He examined the various treats I’d baked and grabbed two orange-cranberry muffins to start off with.

“I hope you did something last night other than hit on those two girls,” I said, dishing up a generous portion of blackberry cobbler into a large bowl.

“If you consider sifting through reams of information on Tobias Dawson, then yes, I did do something useful last night, although it was a thoroughly eye-glazing experience. The man doesn’t have nearly enough vices to make things interesting. All he does is mine coal and buy equipment to mine coal and look for more places to mine coal. Did I mention he mines coal?”

“Once or twice.” My lips twitched up. No matter how bad I felt, Finn could always make me smile. I loved him for that.

I used my Ice magic to frost a mug and create some small Ice cubes, then poured myself a glass of milk and dug into the cobbler. I didn’t bother with ice cream this time. I just wanted warm sugar, and a lot of it.

“But you were right about the diamonds,” Finn said.

“According to the cell phone photos the detective took in Dawson’s office, the dwarf is planning a major expansion of his current mining operation. And guess where the new primary shaft leads to?”

I didn’t even have to guess. “Warren T. Fox’s country store.”

Finn nodded. “Actually, our good friend Tobias Dawson has already started shoring up the mine, and he’s even crossed over into Warren’s land.”

“Explains all the rumblings and mini earthquakes they’ve heard and felt.” I took another bite of cobbler. The oat topping provided a crunchy, chewy contrast to the syrupy sweetness of the blackberry filling. Mmm. Perfect.

“But wait, there’s more,” Finn said. “Dawson might be mining his brains out, but he’s not making a lot of money doing it anymore.”

“Why not?”

Finn shrugged. “The usual reasons. Equipment’s more expensive, the coal’s harder to get to, and there’s less of it, which means more man hours and more money invested in getting it out of the ground to start with. Dawson also got sued last year. There was a cave-in at one of his other mines further up in Virginia. Killed almost a dozen men, injured that many more. Despite the dwarf ’s attempts to keep it quiet, the accident got a lot of press. Dawson had insurance, but he still had to pony up almost thirty million for the families.”

I whistled. “That’ll put a dent in anyone’s wallet.”

Finn polished off his muffins and reached for the basket of rolls. I passed him some butter. “It put a bigger dent in Dawson’s wallet than most. It wiped out most of his personal fortune. He’s barely making ends meet these days and is mortgaged to the top of his ten-gallon hat.”

“So he just doesn’t want the diamonds, he
needs
them.”

“Like a wino needs wine,” Finn agreed. “But wait, there’s more. Guess who one of his primary lenders is?”

Another easy guess. “Mab Monroe.”

Finn pouted. “You ruin all my fun. How did you know?”

I shrugged. “I remembered seeing Dawson’s name in the file Fletcher compiled on Mab. Even if I hadn’t, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. The woman’s got her hands in everything in this city. Including Dawson’s pocket, I imagine.”

“In a big, big way,” Finn said. “Mab’s been floating him money for the past several months. She’s writing it off as a speculative business venture.”

I looked at him. “Speculative venture? So she knows about the diamonds then.”

“Probably,” Finn said. “Dawson must have told her about them, maybe even given her a couple of samples as a good faith gesture.”

“So all Dawson has to do is get rid of the Foxes, and he can tear up the whole mountain mining diamonds.”

“Pay off his creditors, become solvent again, and make himself and Mab Monroe a pile of money,” Finn added.

“You were right, Gin. Tobias Dawson isn’t going to stop until Warren Fox’s land is his. He can’t afford to. Not with Mab Monroe breathing down his neck to come up with something worthwhile.”

“Knowing the dwarf ’s dirty secrets is all well and good, but we knew I was going to have to kill him all along,” I said. “What I want to know now is how I can pull it off—and get away clean afterward.”

Finn buttered another roll. “I’ve been working on that too. Like I said before, Dawson is all about his business. Mining is his life.”

“So I take him out at his house or the mine office. No big deal.”

Finn shook his head. “I did some more digging last night. I wouldn’t suggest either one of those options. Dawson has a pretty tight security setup at home. Lots of giant guards, and his house is in a flat, remote area. They’d see you coming. And after your break-in last night, I imagine he’s doubled the guards at his office and the mine. Getting in would be tricky, getting out would be a serious problem. Especially if he puts up a fight before you kill him.”

I trusted Finn’s judgment just as much as I’d trusted Fletcher’s. If he said the house and office were out, they were out. “What about going to and from work?”

“Dawson has a driver who’s been with him for years. Takes the dwarf everywhere. He drives that big SUV we saw at Country Daze. Bulletproof glass, airbags, reinforced frame, all the usual assorted safety features.”

“Which means sniping him through the glass wouldn’t work, and the dwarf is probably tough enough to survive a car accident or even a bomb under the hood,” I finished.

“You got it.”

“So what do you suggest?” I asked. “Because the clock is ticking. Violet can only stay with Eva Grayson, and Sophia and Jo-Jo can only watch Warren at home for so long. Tobias Dawson’s going to come back to the store to brace the Foxes again sooner, rather than later. The dwarf needs to get dead, Finn. In a hurry.”

Finn grinned. “Ask, and ye shall receive. Dawson doesn’t get out much, but he is scheduled to attend a party—tonight, as a matter of fact.”

Short notice, but I could make do. I’d had less time to do other jobs. “But…”

“But there’s only one problem. No, that’s not true,” Finn said. “There are several problems. But the biggie is this. The party? Guess where it’s going to be?”

“I don’t know. The Five Oaks country club, maybe?”

That’s where a lot of upper crust types held their functions.

“Nuh-uh,” Finn shook his head. “This shindig is going to be held at Mab Monroe’s house—her own personal estate.”

“Fuck,” I said.

“Fuck, indeed,” Finn agreed.

———

I sat there and ate my blackberry cobbler for several minutes. Mab Monroe’s house was the very last place I’d want to do a hit. The Fire elemental wouldn’t take too kindly to my stiffing someone within the confines of her own home. Not to mention the fact it would seriously undermine her own security and standing in the Ashland underworld. Killing someone at Mab’s mansion was the kind of thing people would talk about for
years
. Mab would do everything in her power to find out who killed the dwarf in her own territory. Who had the audacity to thumb her nose at the Fire elemental like that. She’d have to just to keep the challenges to her power base to a minimum.

But if that’s where Tobias Dawson was going to be, then that’s where I’d have to do the job—whether I liked it or not. I just hoped I was up to it.

“Tell me the rest of it,” I said.

Finn cut himself a piece of the chocolate chip pound cake. “Officially, the party is a business mixer. Mab’s invited all her business associates, and everyone else she wants to do deals with in Ashland and beyond. Lots of bigwigs expected to attend. Security to get in is going to be very, very tight.”

“So?” I asked. “We’ve crashed lots of parties before. Surely, Jo-Jo can get us in.”

Finn shook his head. “I already called her and asked. You know she can’t stand Mab. Jo-Jo declined the invite two weeks ago. You can’t use her invitation now and kill Tobias Dawson.”

“Because it’ll look too suspicious and point Mab in Jo-Jo’s direction,” I finished his thought. “Okay, so how do we do it? There has to be some way to get into Mab’s mansion so I can get close to Dawson.”

Finn hesitated. “Well, there’s something, but you’re probably not going to like it.”

“Spill it.”

He stared at me. “First of all, you have to realize it’s not enough for you to just get into the party. You can’t go into Mab Monroe’s mansion as you, Gin Blanco. Jonah McAllister’s on the guest list. He’d spot you in a minute.”

“So I’ll wear a disguise. Not like I haven’t done it before.”

Finn polished off his cake and cut another slice. “True, and I have an idea about that. As part of the evening’s festivities, Mab has arranged for a variety of… entertainments for her guests.”

My gray eyes narrowed. “What kind of
entertainments
?”

Finn cleared his throat. “Hookers. Men and women. Humans, giants, vamps, dwarves. Her guests pick out who they like, do whatever they want, and she foots the bill for the whole thing.”

“So you’re telling me the best way, the
only
way, to get into this party is for me to pretend to be a hooker, catch Tobias Dawson’s eye, get him alone, and do him before he does me. So to speak.”

Finn winced. “More or less. Sorry, Gin. I know it’s not ideal, gambling on whether or not you can attract Dawson. But I think this is our best shot at him.”

I helped myself to some more blackberry cobbler and thought about things. As an assassin, as the Spider, I’d played a variety of roles over the years. Waitresses, hotel maids, musicians, even a cop a time or two. Dressed up in wigs, makeup, skimpy clothes, and more, all in the name of doing the job. So I wasn’t worried whether or not I could pull off being a hooker. What concerned me was the fact I was supposed to do that, lullaby Tobias Dawson, and get away afterward—all on Mab Monroe’s home court. Still, Finn was right. This was probably my best, quickest shot at Dawson, and the dwarf needed to die—right now.

“All right,” I said. “So I’ll go in as a hooker.”

Finn nodded. “That’s actually where it gets a little easier.”

“Why?”

He grinned. “Because I happen to be very good friends with the person supplying the evening’s entertainment—Roslyn Phillips.”

First, Donovan had mentioned her name last night, and now Finn this morning. I hadn’t thought about the vampire in weeks, but here she was, popping up all over the place, even if she didn’t realize it. Even if I didn’t like the fact of how closely we were tied together.

Not only did Roslyn Phillips run Northern Aggression, the most decadent nightclub in Ashland, the vampire used to be a hooker herself. She had worked the Southtown streets for years before she’d saved enough money to move up into management and open her own gin joint. All vampires needed blood to survive, of course, but lots of them also powered up through sex, which is why so many of them worked as prostitutes. Plus, vamps could live a very long time, and hooking, well, it was a skill that would never go out of style or demand. Vamps needed cash just like the rest of us.

Roslyn Phillips was the best of the best. She could do things to men and women I’d never even dreamed of—and she’d taught her staff most of her tricks. But more important than that, the vampire owed me for killing her abusive brother-in-law and for not telling Finn how her loose lips had inadvertently led to Fletcher’s death. So Roslyn was going to have to deal with me again, whether she liked it or not.

I scraped up the last of my warm cobbler, then pushed my bowl away. “Well then, I guess it’s time to pay Roslyn a friendly visit.”

Finn grinned. He and Roslyn had been special friends for years. That is, they often met for dinner, drinks, and a night of hot, sweaty sex when they weren’t seeing other people. Sometimes, even if they were.

“Oh, goodie,” Finn drawled. “A field trip.”

24

It was a little after one when we pulled into the parking lot of Northern Aggression, which was located in Northtown, as befitted its name. By eight o’clock tonight, high-end cars of all makes and models would fill the lot, and a long line of eager men and women would be waiting to get inside and satisfy their desperate desires.

But on this cold November afternoon, the nightclub looked like some anonymous warehouse. A big, gray, metal box you’d find in any one of Ashland’s industrial parks—except for the enormous rune over the door. A neon light shaped like a heart with an arrow through it perched above the entrance to the nightclub, marking it as something out of the ordinary. The pierced heart was Roslyn Phillips’s personal rune and the symbol for her club. From previous visits, I knew the sign would flash red, then yellow, then orange when it was turned on. But right now, it was just a hunk of metal and glass hovering above the door.

“The place looks deserted. You’re sure Roslyn’s here?”

I asked. “I thought she stayed home during the day and watched her niece, Catherine.”

Finn shrugged. “Not today. She said she was here looking over the books since it was getting close to the end of the month. She’s expecting us.”

“Marvelous,” I murmured.

We got out of the car and headed toward the entrance.

The front door was locked, so Finn rapped on it. His knuckles made a hollow, ringing sound on the reinforced steel door. A few seconds later, something clanged, like a security bar being thrown back, and the door rattled open. Xavier, the nightclub’s head bouncer, stuck his head outside. The giant looked even larger, wider, and stronger in the weak afternoon sun than he had at the Pork Pit when he’d arrested Jake McAllister a couple of nights ago.

His dark eyes flicked over Finn, then me, then moved back to Finn.

Finn knew exactly what was expected. He smiled and stretched out his hand. Xavier shook it and palmed the offered C-note with surprising grace for someone with hands as big as a melon.

The giant grinned. “Always a pleasure to see you, Finn. Come on in.”