CHAPTER 21
M
uch to my dismay, Izzy and I were seated at the head table next to Clayton and Peyton. The twins had also asked Clark to sit at our table, on Izzy’s other side. The salad course arrived and Clark made a joke about accidently biting Clayton’s emerald-colored wing. The entire table laughed, with one exception. Yours bluely. I wasn’t sure I could make it through the entrée before frying the VP. I took a deep breath, digging into my wilted salad before I acted on the impulse.
Halfway through the dinner, Izzy squeezed my leg under the table as if she recognized Clark’s peril. She leaned in, whispering, “Thank you, Blue.”
I glanced up from my plate, my forehead wrinkled in question. “For what?”
She motioned around the crowded ballroom. “For putting up with all of this.”
“Come on,” I said with a quick grin, “I’m having the time of my life.”
Her eyes flashed with mirth. “I can tell.”
“How so?”
She jabbed the thrice-electrocuted piece of now blackened chicken on my plate. “A woman always knows.”
“Is that so?”
She grinned. “And you’ve been vibrating like crazy for the last twenty minutes.”
I took a calming breath. “Sorry.”
“Is something bothering you besides the fire in your office?”
Hell, the fire had been the last thing on my mind. Too many other things took precedence, namely, keeping Izzy safe while finding out who killed my intern. I wanted to talk to Izzy about the murder and Grumpy’s warning. “Izzy, we need to—”
“And now for the fairy of the hour . . .” The crowd quieted. “Please welcome the next Tooth Fairy ... Clayton Gibbs.” Applause filled the ballroom, drowning out my words. Izzy leaned in closer, but I waved her off with a “later” gesture. She nodded and gave me a small yet concerned smile.
Clayton puffed out his tiny chest as he took the stage. I had to admit, he looked very toothy in his tuxedo, dyed wings, and dust-infused swagger. Hell, if I didn’t know him so well I might’ve even voted for him. Good thing I didn’t have wings. No wings, no vote, which I was cool with.
“Thank you all for being here,” he began, “And for your support. We all know the difficult times we face . . .”
I grinned. Half those difficult times were a direct result of Clayton’s actions.
“I want you to know that I understand . . .”
I tuned out, watching the expressions of those in the crowd. Most of the winged ones were hanging on his every word, their eyes alight with promise. Those without wings listened too, but with less enthusiasm and more self-interest. Sadly, not everyone fell into that category. Clark, it seemed, only had eyes for Izzy. It was creepy. Every time I glanced over at the guy, he was looking our way, eyes burning with desire. I glared at him until he snapped out of it. He responded with a guilty smile.
“Crime is up . . . ,” Clayton was saying.
I rolled my eyes; pretty damn sure the crime rate, like those difficulties he’d referred to earlier, was, at least partially, the twins’ fault. Hell, I’d committed more than one crime while in their company and their employ. That was in the past, though—the not-too-distant one, but history nonetheless. My focus returned to Clayton’s speech.
“But I have a plan.” He paused, his gaze falling on Izzy’s face. A shiver of dread curled up my spine. “Our beloved Isabella Davis’s company, Davis Securities, has been hired to solve the crime of the century.”
Davis Securities? What the hell? Clayton had just cut me out of my own company. I blew out a harsh breath. I knew why he’d done it. The fairies hated me with a fiery passion, but they adored Izzy. Therefore, Reynolds & Davis became strictly Davis. I glanced over at Izzy to see how she’d responded, but all I saw was shock and rage in her indigo eyes.
I frowned. “What?”
“You took the case without consulting me?” she hissed under her breath. “How could you?” At this point I wasn’t sure what case she was talking about. After all, I’d taken any number of cases without a powwow. Then Clayton’s speech finally penetrated my brain.
“The missing fairies are Davis Securities’ and my own top propriety.” Clayton paused while the crowd applauded. “We will find the person or persons responsible and make them pay. You have my word on it.”
The little bastards had set me up. They couldn’t care less about a gaggle of missing fairies; they only wanted to seem like they gave a shit. With Izzy on the case, Clayton was all but guaranteed to win the election. “Izzy,” I began, but it was too late.
My pink-winged fairy had left the ball.
Not a glass slipper left in sight.
CHAPTER 22
A
fter dinner I searched everywhere for Izzy, but she’d vanished, as had Clark Boyer. That bit of information gnawed its way into my brain, making rational thought impossible. Izzy was a grown woman, I reminded myself again and again. Free to do what and
whom
she pleased, generally with the exception of our employees. I wrapped myself in self-righteous rage instead of the vague sense of guilt I felt in not telling Izzy about the missing-fairies case.
Lucky for me, anger was my go-to emotion. I often thrived on rage, the kind that burned just below the surface. The nuns claimed my temper and subsequent electrical conductivity were a direct result of having been abandoned as a baby.
I knew better.
I was born a monster.
My mind flashed to Izzy lying naked in Clark’s stupid arms as energy crackled through me in electrified waves. How dare she sleep with him? He could sue us for sexual harassment, and then where would we be? Bad enough James had died in the line of duty; now we had to worry about opening ourselves up to Clark’s greed.
My anger followed me all the way back to my apartment. I vowed to have it out with Izzy. She would probably break down, begging my forgiveness and firing Clark instantly. I smiled at my deluded fantasy as I unlocked my front door.
As soon as I took my first step inside, a ruby slipper came flying my way. It barely missed my head, smashing into the door behind me with a muffled thud. “Whoa,” I yelled, holding up my hands. “What the hell, Izzy?”
“Are you kidding me?” My partner in crime solving let the second slipper fly. My catlike reflexes saved me from a nasty lump as I ducked out of the projectile’s way just in time. “Do you have any idea how pissed I am at you?”
From the flying slippers and the heaving of her barely contained breasts, I had a pretty fair idea. “So I took a case.” I shook my head, going on the defensive. “What’s the big deal? We are investigators. Investigating cases is sort of what we do. I’ve taken plenty of cases without a lengthy discussion. What makes this one any different?”
My reasoning didn’t cool her rage one bit. In fact, it seemed to enrage her even more. Her eyes flashed with blue flames. “You purposely kept
this
case a secret from me. A fairy case from your fairy partner.” Her shoulders slumped. “I thought we were past this. Past keeping secrets and lying to each other.”
Guilt pooled in my gut along with the rubbery overcooked chicken from dinner. I swallowed, pushing both further down. “Izzy. I didn’t mean to—”
“Lie to me?” She snorted. “Or you didn’t mean for me to find out?”
“The second one,” I admitted. “I didn’t want you involved.”
She took a step toward me. “So you were protecting me?”
The soft way she asked the question was all the warning I needed. “Hell no. You are more than capable of protecting yourself. I was . . . um . . .”
“What you are is an idiot.”
I ignored her insult, preparing myself to ask the question that had been burning in my mind. The one Grumpy had instilled and later Clayton and his Davis Securities comment had cemented. Did Izzy want me out? As much as I wanted that answer, my tongue had other plans. “What’s with you and Clark?”
“What?”
“Are you dating him?” This time I wanted to bite off my treacherous tongue. What was wrong with me? What she did after hours was none of my business. I felt like a stupid schoolboy with a secret, obsessive crush on the head cheerleader. A cheerleader with wings and a hell of a right hook, I reminded myself, stepping out of striking distance.
She crossed her arms over her chest, a clear indication she was about to let me have it. “You’re kidding, right? Less than six hours ago I walked in on you and your little friend Bo Peep, and I didn’t say a fucking word about how incredibly stupid you are for getting involved with the likes of her. And now you have the audacity to ask me about Clark?”
While she had a point, I wasn’t quite willing to let it go, which only proved her assessment of my intelligence all the more. “Nothing happened with Bo. I thought she had—”
“Oh,” she said. “I know exactly what you thought she had for you.”
“Hey,” I complained.
She waved me off. “If we’re going to stay partners, we need complete and total honesty between us.”
I nodded slowly, wondering just where she planned to go with this.
Her eyebrows rose. “Well?”
“Well what?”
She rolled her indigo-colored irises. “Tell me about the case.”
“No.”
“What?” Her screech nearly knocked her off her bare feet.
I moved around her, keeping at least three feet of distance between us. I picked up a bottle of whiskey from the coffee table, pouring a shot into a glass tumbler. I waved it her way. She shook her head, her face growing redder by the second. “We do need to talk, but not about the missing-fairy case,” I said quietly.
Her expression turned from annoyed to suspicious. “About what, then? If you say Clark, I’m leaving right now.”
“I’m not talking about Clark.” Not exactly. I swallowed my whiskey in one gulp, letting the burn of it ease the taste of my next words. My eyes met hers, and Grumpy’s warning flickered through my mind again. “Do you have something to tell me, Izzy?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Seconds passed in silence.
Finally she slowly turned her back to me. “How’d you find out?”
“It’s kind of what I do.” For better or worse. Her reaction to the question told me everything I needed to know. Grumpy wasn’t lying. She planned to oust me from my own company. Anger swept through me, sending a current of electricity so strong up my spine that my hair stood on end. “Is it true? Are you—”
“Yes,” she said sharply. “But you weren’t supposed to find out.”
I laughed without humor. “You are in cahoots with Clark to take over my co—”
“Wait! What?” she yelled, spinning to face me, her hands flying to her hips. “You think I’m involved in a takeover? Are you nuts?”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you’re not?”
“Of course not.” She laughed with bitterness. “I’m not like your flea-riddled girlfriend—”
“Forget Bo Peep,” I said, reaching for her arm. My fingers closed around her forearm, generating a slight spark. I quickly dropped it before I hurt her. “If you’re not involved in a hostile takeover, what the hell have you been keeping from me?”
She winced. “Why don’t you take a seat . . .”
CHAPTER 23
“Y
ou’re working a case without telling me?” I shook my head for the tenth time since she’d spilled her proverbial beans. I couldn’t believe her. She’d been working some case for more than a month without my knowledge. I pictured the danger she could face while on a case, any case, and the lowlifes who would cut out her heart for a few bucks. I wanted to shake her until her very strong white teeth rattled.
One of her flame-colored eyebrows rose. “And this is different from you taking Peyton’s missing-fairy case how?”
“Because . . . I . . . ah . . .” I jumped from the couch to pace. “It just is, damn it.” I jabbed my finger at her. “I’m the investigator. You are . . .”
“I’m what, Blue?” she asked in a dangerous tone. “A pretty face? A trophy partner? How exactly do you see our working relationship?”
I shook my head. “You’re putting words in my mouth. I just meant, I have experience working cases.”
“And I don’t?” She shook her head. “I remember solving my fair share over the last year.”
“Together,” I said. “
We
solved those cases. Not you by yourself.” I rushed on before she could argue. “Investigations can be very dangerous, Izzy. People can get hurt.” I paused, pushing my next words through the lump in my throat at the very thought of any harm coming to her. “You could get hurt.”
For a moment, the anger left her face and she looked resigned. “I won’t.”
“You don’t know that.” I licked my dry lips. “Please, let me help you. We can work the case together, whatever it might be. I’ll even let you take the lead.”
“Let me?” She snorted, her voice rising with each word. “You’ll let me take the lead on my own case?”
I held up my hand. “Take it easy. I’m merely trying to help.”
“Then keep your mouth shut.” She poked her finger into my chest. Hard. A blue bolt of electricity shot from me to her finger, but she didn’t seem to notice the electrical charge. “You go ahead and work your missing-fairy case, and I’ll work mine. When it’s over”—her eyes met mine and her voice quieted—“we will reevaluate.”
“Reevaluate what, Izzy?” I asked, though I had a damn good idea what she wanted to reassess.
“Us.”
Following her proclamation, Izzy walked out of my apartment, closing the door quietly behind her. I stared at the closed door, a feeling of imminent doom sweeping through me. I was a fool. Izzy had talked me in circles, avoiding spilling any of her secrets, and now I was left staring at a closed door, wondering what kind of case she was working and whether or not she was sleeping with Clark. My fists clenched, and I considered chasing after her.
But I’d lost my chance.
Before I took a step toward the door, it flew open, smacking against the wall with a loud bang. Izzy stormed back inside, her eyes burning violet. “Damn it, Blue. You can’t leave your door unlocked so just anyone can bust inside and kill you. Do you not remember James lying dead on the floor?”
“I—”
Her finger wagged in my direction. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. Just lock your door.”
“Okay,” I agreed, which drained all of her righteous anger.
She sighed deeply. “All right, then.”
“Is that why you came back?” I took a cautious stride closer to her, until we were less than a foot apart. “To make sure I lock my door?”
“Of course.” Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. “What other reason would I have?”
We stood there, silence growing between us.
Finally Izzy gave me a small, sad smile. “Right and Left are standing guard in the hall. Try not to get yourself killed before morning.”