Read Online Women of the Otherworld 10.5 - Counterfeit Magic by Kelley Armstrong - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kelley Armstrong
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I think they have special spells on their L.A. office now, just to make sure I don’t get past the front door.”
I stepped forward and extended my hand. “Paige Winterbourne. I’m—”
“Head of the interracial council,” Ethan finished. “And wife to Lucas Cortez.”
It’d been a long time since I’d been identified in that order. “Right on both counts. But I’m not here representing the council or the Cabal. I’m investigating the death of Jared Cookson—the young man who bet against his teleporting half-demon sister. Can we talk?”
Brotherly Love
Once we’d settled into chairs in Ethan’s tiny office, I explained the situation. As investigative techniques went, this was far from ideal. But he’d thrown us a curve ball with his knowledge of Savannah, and coming clean seemed my only option.
When I finished, Ethan took a moment to gather his thoughts, calmly, seemingly unconcerned that it might make him appear to be concocting a story. As he paused, I looked around the office. A sterile and efficient workspace… with one exception. On a shelf, amidst binders and books, were half a dozen boxing and wrestling trophies.
Tommy’s awards, not displayed in the main room as advertising, but here, kept by Ethan. Odd that he’d do that if he’d dissuaded Tommy from a professional career.
“If Jared Cookson is dead, we know nothing about it,” Ethan said finally. “Yes, we thought he cheated. Yes, Tommy discussed it with him. And by discussed, I don’t mean he took him for a beer and gave him betting advice. Tommy is our enforcer, however uncomfortable he might be in the role. He followed the boy and demanded our money back. Jared resisted. According to Tommy, he didn’t resist past a few blows. After getting our money back, Tommy left him walking and talking.”
“Or so Tommy said,” Savannah said.
“Which means it’s the truth. But I don’t expect you to believe that, so please feel free to ask him yourself.”
“A blow to the head could still do it,” I said. “Like that fighter who collapsed last night. Jared walked away, then later he became disoriented from a concussion and ended up in the bay.”
Ethan shook his head. “Tommy is very careful about that. No hard blows to the head. An attack designed to scare, not seriously injure.”
“Maybe that’s his usual way of handling things,” Savannah said. “But that’s not how this one went down. The kid smart-mouthed Tommy. Or your brother’s adrenaline was running high from the club. Things got out of hand.”
“Not Tommy.”
“You keep saying that. We heard you saying it to that blackmailer, too. Protesting a little much, don’t you think?”
Ethan’s cool gaze met hers. “Not protesting at all. Simply stating facts.”
“That blackmailer accused Tommy of betraying you,” I said. “Of trying to shut down the club. He said he had evidence.”
“Manufactured evidence.”
“You sound damned sure of that,” Savannah said.
“I am.”
“What did he accuse Tommy of?” I asked.
Now those cool eyes turned my way. “A matter unrelated to this boy’s death. A matter that is being taken care of and that, I can assure you, has nothing to do with my brother.”
A matter of murder, the death of two fighters. A matter that someone thought was related to Tommy Gallante . I wasn’t sure I disagreed.
* * * *
We tried to get more from Ethan, but the only thing he’d provide was a location for his brother. To be honest, I was surprised he gave that, but I suppose he knew we’d track him down sooner or later, and he didn’t want to start trouble with the council.
Tommy was at a gym in Santa Cruz, where he worked part-time, as Ethan did as a paramedic, providing a legitimate source of income for the authorities.
The gym was what I’d expect—shabby but clean, a place for local fighters to train and a place for
I stepped forward and extended my hand. “Paige Winterbourne. I’m—”
“Head of the interracial council,” Ethan finished. “And wife to Lucas Cortez.”
It’d been a long time since I’d been identified in that order. “Right on both counts. But I’m not here representing the council or the Cabal. I’m investigating the death of Jared Cookson—the young man who bet against his teleporting half-demon sister. Can we talk?”
Brotherly Love
Once we’d settled into chairs in Ethan’s tiny office, I explained the situation. As investigative techniques went, this was far from ideal. But he’d thrown us a curve ball with his knowledge of Savannah, and coming clean seemed my only option.
When I finished, Ethan took a moment to gather his thoughts, calmly, seemingly unconcerned that it might make him appear to be concocting a story. As he paused, I looked around the office. A sterile and efficient workspace… with one exception. On a shelf, amidst binders and books, were half a dozen boxing and wrestling trophies.
Tommy’s awards, not displayed in the main room as advertising, but here, kept by Ethan. Odd that he’d do that if he’d dissuaded Tommy from a professional career.
“If Jared Cookson is dead, we know nothing about it,” Ethan said finally. “Yes, we thought he cheated. Yes, Tommy discussed it with him. And by discussed, I don’t mean he took him for a beer and gave him betting advice. Tommy is our enforcer, however uncomfortable he might be in the role. He followed the boy and demanded our money back. Jared resisted. According to Tommy, he didn’t resist past a few blows. After getting our money back, Tommy left him walking and talking.”
“Or so Tommy said,” Savannah said.
“Which means it’s the truth. But I don’t expect you to believe that, so please feel free to ask him yourself.”
“A blow to the head could still do it,” I said. “Like that fighter who collapsed last night. Jared walked away, then later he became disoriented from a concussion and ended up in the bay.”
Ethan shook his head. “Tommy is very careful about that. No hard blows to the head. An attack designed to scare, not seriously injure.”
“Maybe that’s his usual way of handling things,” Savannah said. “But that’s not how this one went down. The kid smart-mouthed Tommy. Or your brother’s adrenaline was running high from the club. Things got out of hand.”
“Not Tommy.”
“You keep saying that. We heard you saying it to that blackmailer, too. Protesting a little much, don’t you think?”
Ethan’s cool gaze met hers. “Not protesting at all. Simply stating facts.”
“That blackmailer accused Tommy of betraying you,” I said. “Of trying to shut down the club. He said he had evidence.”
“Manufactured evidence.”
“You sound damned sure of that,” Savannah said.
“I am.”
“What did he accuse Tommy of?” I asked.
Now those cool eyes turned my way. “A matter unrelated to this boy’s death. A matter that is being taken care of and that, I can assure you, has nothing to do with my brother.”
A matter of murder, the death of two fighters. A matter that someone thought was related to Tommy Gallante . I wasn’t sure I disagreed.
* * * *
We tried to get more from Ethan, but the only thing he’d provide was a location for his brother. To be honest, I was surprised he gave that, but I suppose he knew we’d track him down sooner or later, and he didn’t want to start trouble with the council.
Tommy was at a gym in Santa Cruz, where he worked part-time, as Ethan did as a paramedic, providing a legitimate source of income for the authorities.
The gym was what I’d expect—shabby but clean, a place for local fighters to train and a place for
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