Speak of the Devil (12 page)

Lugh slid across the couch until he was right by my side, then he slipped his arm around my shoulders and gave me a firm squeeze. “It will be all right,” he murmured in my ear.

Tears stung my eyes, and I felt the elephant weight on my chest again. I was going to humiliate myself by crying on his shoulder, after all.

But Lugh knew me too well to let that happen. Just when I thought I couldn’t hold the tears back another moment, the room began to dissolve around me, and I drifted into the peaceful oblivion I’d longed for.

The next morning, I woke up feeling like my head was stuffed with cotton. I remembered what had happened, and knew I should be very upset, but my emotions were stuffed in cotton, too. That was probably a good thing, since I needed to function today.

I took a long, steamy shower, moving by rote, not thinking about much of anything. Distantly, I thought perhaps I was a little
too
spaced out for my own good. But when I considered the alternative…

I was afraid coffee might wake some of my still blissfully sleeping brain cells. However, there was no way I was getting through the day without coffee, so I was just going to have to take a chance.

Luckily, I pulled on some yoga pants and a T-shirt before I headed for the kitchen, because I’d forgotten that Lugh had invited Saul to stay here. I came to a screeching halt in my bedroom doorway when I saw him sitting on my living room sofa sipping from a travel mug that hadn’t come from my kitchen. Considerate of him to bring his own dishes. I grabbed the door frame, my mind reorienting itself to my new reality.

“I brought some of Dom’s coffee,” Saul said when I just stood there like an idiot. “I hope you don’t mind.” He tried a grin that didn’t look terribly convincing. Oh, good. He wasn’t any more comfortable being here than I was having him here. “Adam told me your coffee sucks.”

“He didn’t lie.” I shambled toward the kitchen, hoping Saul had made enough coffee for both of us. When I saw he had made a full pot, my opinion of him softened considerably. I poured a cup and inhaled deeply. It smelled heavenly, so I took a big sip, not bothering with my usual cream and sugar.

It was a good thing it was such high-quality java, because Saul had made it strong enough to make espresso seem mild and diluted by comparison. I felt like pounding my chest with my fist after I swallowed. I turned to stare at Saul with watery eyes.

“Have you ever heard of the concept of moderation?” It was a good thing he’d brought the coffee himself or he’d probably have used my entire week’s ration in that one pot.

He frowned and took a sip from his mug. He made a show of rolling it around his mouth then swallowing. “Too strong?” he asked, and it sounded like he was just guessing.

I rolled my eyes and poured half the contents of my mug back into the pot. I then filled the mug to the
brim with hot water, added cream and sugar, and tried again. It tasted just about right. I wrapped both hands around the mug. Not that it was cold in my apartment, but this was just so damn awkward.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance I can convince you to go back to Dom and Adam’s place,” I said.

He took another swig from his travel mug. “Not when my king has ordered me to stay here and keep an eye on you.” He stood up and came toward the kitchen.

I didn’t think the kitchen was big enough for the both of us, so I moved to my dining room. I probably moved a little too quickly, because Saul gave me a funny look. I pretended not to notice as I sat down at the table and paid more attention to my coffee than it was worth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Saul refill his mug. Unfortunately, he didn’t take my subtle “Leave me alone” hint and came to join me at the table.

“You don’t like me,” he said.

I can’t deal with drama before my morning coffee on the best of days. I fixed him with a steady look.

“I don’t know you well enough not to like you. I just don’t want a baby-sitter. Now can you let me drink my coffee in peace?”

“You’re upset that I’ve taken this particular host.”

So much for drinking my coffee in peace. I shrugged, trying to act as casual as possible in the hopes he’d just drop it and shut up. “You didn’t have a choice, so I can hardly blame you.”

“But you do anyway.”

I seriously considered splashing my coffee in his face. Of course, being a demon, he’d probably like it. “Look, Saul. I’ll tolerate having you here because it’s not worth the energy to fight with Lugh about it. But that doesn’t mean I have to have heart-to-heart talks
with you. It’s nothing personal, but I need you to shut up right now.”

He opened his mouth as if to argue, then seemed to think better of it. I nodded my approval, and that was the end of our breakfast conversation.

Afterward, I took him downstairs and introduced him to the front desk clerk—though I said he was my guest, not my roommate. I saw his disapproving glance, but pretended not to. I had his name officially recorded on my “okay to let into the elevators without calling me first” list. His was the only name on it. And then, with the utmost reluctance, I had the front desk issue him his very own key.

Adam saved
Saul and me from a morning of prolonged awkwardness by showing up at ten, just as we were finishing off the last of the way-too-strong coffee.

“Ready to go have a word with our dear friend Barbara?” Adam asked me with a fierce grin.

The grin made me shudder. Adam could be one scary dude when he wanted to be, and however much I hated PI Barbie right now, I wasn’t sure she deserved to have Adam sicced on her.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll let me go chat with her by myself?” I asked.

“It’s
my
house she broke into.” His grin became even more ferocious. “Besides, I can put the fear of prison into her. She did commit a crime, you know.”

Knowing Adam, I didn’t think prison was going to be the scariest thing he’d threaten Barbie with. It was kind of amazing how many laws Adam managed to break while being a police officer. And that he always seemed to get away with it. The Philly PD had never been the poster child for incorruptibility, but I could
scare myself thinking about how much leeway the officers apparently had.

The good news was that Saul didn’t get to accompany us for this interview. He would remain in my apartment “keeping watch.” I think that basically meant “keeping out of the way.” And for just a moment as Adam and I were leaving, I met Saul’s eyes and got the feeling he thought the same thing. I might even have felt a bit bad for him if I weren’t still in so much pain myself.

Adam didn’t disturb my silence as we took the elevator down to the garage level and then made our way to the visitors’ parking area in an unpleasantly secluded corner. When I climbed into his unmarked, I put on my seat belt and let my head fall back against the headrest as I closed my eyes. I’d gotten plenty of sleep last night, but I still felt like I could sleep another week.

I swore I could feel Adam’s eyes on me for a long moment before he started the car and pulled out of the parking space. I knew I wasn’t acting like my normal self, but I couldn’t help it. Eventually, I’d dredge up some anger, and with that anger would come energy. But for now, all I felt was … depression, I suppose.

I must have totally spaced out for a bit, because when next I was aware of my surroundings, we were parallel parked on one of the seedier sections of Broad Street and Adam was staring at me. We could have driven five minutes or five hours—my senses were so scrambled I doubt I’d have known the difference.

Trying to shake the fog out of my brain, I unhooked my seat belt and gave Adam an annoyed glance. “What?”

He pursed his lips, and I had the impression he
was trying to decide what to say. I hoped he’d decide on nothing, but I wasn’t that lucky.

“Are you up to this?”

I looked for the surge of indignation a question like that would usually inspire, but I couldn’t seem to muster it. Instead, I shrugged. “Probably not, but let’s do it anyway.” I started to get out, but Adam grabbed my arm. Again, I thought I should object but couldn’t be bothered.

“There’s no point in you coming with me if you’re just planning to sit there and pout.”

I tried a glare, but I didn’t think there was much heat behind it. “I’ve just had my heart broken. Forgive me if I’m a little down.”

His glare was much more effective. “Down is one thing. Dead is another. And dead is what you’ll end up if you don’t snap out of it and fast!”

I searched my brain for a good retort, but none came to mind. My vision blurred for a moment, and the next thing I knew, I wasn’t in control of my body anymore.

“Morgan needs some time,” Lugh said through my own mouth. “I’ll fill in for her until she’s ready to participate again.”

If I needed proof positive that I was in bad shape, I now had it. I hadn’t made any attempt to lower my mental barriers, and yet Lugh had been able to take control without the faintest hint of resistance on my part. And though I should have felt alarmed—I was too much of a control freak at heart to appreciate being a passenger in my own body—I merely felt… relieved. Adam was right: I wasn’t up to interviewing PI Barbie.

Adam didn’t look much happier than he had a moment ago. “Should we be … worried?” he asked.

Lugh shook his head. “I feel confident she’ll make a full recovery.”

That makes one of us
, I thought at him, but he didn’t bother to answer the thought.

We got out of the car and entered a small office building that might have been a bail bonds office in a past life. Barbie’s office was toward the back, down a dismal hallway that had needed new carpet about twenty years ago. One of the ceiling tiles sported an impressive rust brown water stain, and the paint on the walls had so many scuffs you could almost mistake them for stripes. To enhance that aura of genteel respectability, the letters on Barbie’s door proclaimed
ARBARA PA ET, RIVATE INVE TIGAT ON
.

I couldn’t help wondering how the hell Barbie could afford to keep her sister at The Healing Circle if this was the best she could do for an office.

How the hell did an old money tycoon like Maguire end up hiring a bargain-basement PI?
I thought at Lugh.

Good question
, he answered.

Adam knocked on the door, and Barbie told him to come in. She had her back to us when we walked in, her nose buried in a battered metal filing cabinet. Her office itself looked a little better than the hallway, though it didn’t exactly scream of astounding financial success. At least it was neat, and the furniture, though no doubt secondhand, didn’t look like it had been stolen from a Dumpster.

Barbie stopped messing with the filing cabinet, shoving the drawer closed with a good bit of muscle. Even so, it got stuck about six inches short of fully closed. She gave it a bang with the heel of her hand, but it didn’t budge.

“Damn thing,” she muttered under her breath, then finally turned and saw Adam and me.

Her baby blue eyes widened in surprise as she looked back and forth between the two of us. “Ms. Kingsley, Mr. White. What a surprise.”

“I’ll bet,” Lugh said, adopting my hostile conversational style.

She blinked innocently. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked.

Her poker face was a hell of a lot better than mine. If I hadn’t known better, I might have believed she had no idea why we were here.

“I’m sure you’re aware, Ms. Paget, that breaking and entering is against the law,” Adam said.

Adam has an uncanny ability to intimidate, and it looked like his juju was working overtime with Barbie. Her face paled and her mouth dropped partway open. So much for the poker face.

Adam laughed. “Come now,” he chided. “How can you act so surprised? If you’re going to brag about evidence you found in my house, it should come as no great shock that I know you broke in.”

With a shudder, she moved to the chair behind her desk and slowly sat. Her face had not regained its color. She glanced up at Adam’s face, but couldn’t seem to hold his gaze for more than half a second. She shook her head.

“How exactly did I brag about the evidence?” she asked, her voice shaky.

Maybe she was a really great actress, but it sure seemed to me she was genuinely surprised and distressed by Adam’s accusation. Lugh and Adam shared a look, and I remembered that I wasn’t currently in control of my body. I wanted to peer into Barbie’s face, looking for evidence of a lie. Not that I’m that great at telling when someone’s lying to me, but still…

Lugh reached into my pocketbook and pulled out the letter Brian had received, handing it to Adam,
who handed it to Barbie. Annoyingly, Lugh still didn’t look at Barbie, so I couldn’t see her reaction. He seemed inordinately fascinated by the potted fern that languished in one corner of the office.

“Where did you get this?” Barbie asked.

Lugh was still examining the fern, and I felt the first stirrings of real irritation.
What’s so fascinating about the damn plant?
I asked.

Lugh didn’t answer.

“Are you sure you don’t know?” Adam asked Barbie.

Damn it, Lugh, turn your head!

“I didn’t write it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

It finally occurred to me that Lugh was studiously refusing to look in Barbie’s direction for the sole purpose of pissing me off. It was working, too. Sometimes, his ability to push just the right buttons is downright scary. I didn’t particularly
want
to be roused from my funk, but Lugh knew just how to goad me out of the soothing numbness.

I hated the fact that Lugh had manipulated me into this move, but I started to rally my mental forces to kick him out.

“But you know who did,” Adam said, and Barbie didn’t answer.

I wasn’t shocked that Lugh resisted my attempt to wrest back control. Damn him, he was going to make me
fight
for it. Feeling a bit like a marionette on his strings, I struggled harder to shut him out of my mind.

“Ms. Paget,” Adam said, “I found a long blond hair lying on the floor near the whip mentioned in the letter. What do you suppose the chances are it’ll match yours and help convict you?”