Snared
Page 81

 Jennifer Estep

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   “Are you sure that you want to go back home today?” I asked. “Especially given the, ah, mess in your backyard?” I arched my eyebrows, and she realized that I was talking about the four dead dwarves.
   “Actually, Sophia took care of that earlier today,” Jade said.
   I glanced over at the Goth dwarf, who’d moved from the salon floor over to one of the sofas and was now reading a Karma Girl comic book.
   Sophia lowered the comic and gave a modest shrug. “I do good work.” Then she grinned and went right back to her reading.
   I turned back to Jade. “But what about all the damage in your office?”
   “Silvio’s been over there all day working on that, along with Finn and Ryan,” Jade said. “I told Silvio that I could get a cleaning crew to come in, some of my own people, but he insisted on doing it all himself.”
   That sounded just like my assistant. “Of course he did.”
   Jade waved her phone at me. “Silvio texted me a few minutes ago, saying that all the files had been boxed up and that Ryan was taking everything back to the police station where it belongs. Besides, I think it would be good for Elissa to sleep in her own bed tonight. Give her a sense of normalcy.”
   I nodded. “If you need anything, anything at all, you or Elissa, just call me.”
   She nodded back at me. “I will, Gin. Thanks.”
   Jade knocked on one of the doors, and Elissa came back inside with Rosco. The two of them packed up their things, said their good-byes, and headed home.
   They hadn’t been gone five minutes when a car rumbled to a stop in front of Jo-Jo’s house. The front door banged opened, and Bria stormed into the salon, a grim look on her face.
   I sighed and lowered my towel. “Now what’s wrong?”
   “Damian Rivera is dead.”
   Shock jolted through me. “What do you mean, he’s dead? He was fine last night. Drunk and delighted that Porter was going to torture and kill me.”
   Bria flopped down in the chair next to mine and ran her hand through her hair in frustration. “Xavier and I got the call right before our warrant came through. Rivera was beaten to death inside his office. A maid found him when she went in to clean this morning.”
   “But how—” The answer came to me in a flash. “Tucker,” I muttered. “He must have realized that I’d survived. He knew that I’d go after Rivera, so he went back and killed Rivera so that I couldn’t get anything out of him about the Circle. Dammit. I knew that I should have gone after Rivera as soon as Jo-Jo healed me last night. Dammit!”
   Anger surged through me, and I threw my towel across the room. Somewhat comically, it hit the patio doors and harmlessly bounced off, falling to the floor. Jo-Jo gave me a look, but Sophia kept right on reading her comic book, ignoring my temper tantrum. Rosco put his head down and let out a whimper from his basket in the corner.
   I slumped back down in my salon chair. Every time I thought that I was getting closer to learning more about the Circle, Tucker was right there to cut me off again. And he said that I was a thorn in his side. Bastard.
   “Don’t blame yourself, Gin,” Bria said. “There’s nothing you could have done. Rivera died sometime during the night, not this morning.”
   “During the night? What time?”
   She shrugged. “Ryan won’t know for sure until he does the autopsy, but he estimated sometime around midnight.”
   “And what time did you guys find me on the riverbank?”
   “Before then. About eleven o’clock,” Jo-Jo chimed in. “Why do you ask?”
   I shook my head. “No real reason.”
   But my mind churned, thinking about everything. Given the estimated time of death, Tucker had killed Rivera after I’d battled Porter. The vampire must have been lurking somewhere in the woods and realized that I was still alive and that Porter was dead. I hadn’t been in any shape to go after Rivera then, but Tucker would have known that I’d hunt Rivera down the first chance I got. Tucker could have easily told the other man to leave Ashland, but instead, he’d gone ahead and killed Rivera himself.
   Why? Why would he do that?
   The more I learned about Hugh Tucker, the less sense I could make of him.
   “I know you’re upset, Gin,” Bria said. “But it’s not your fault that Rivera’s dead and we can’t question him about the Circle.”
   I waved my hand, cutting her off. “No. I’m not upset. Not really. Sorry I lost my temper. I know you’re right. So let’s look on the bright side of things.”
   Bria arched her eyebrows, surprised by my sudden change in attitude. “And what is that?”
   I grinned. “Tucker saved me the trouble of going over there and killing Rivera myself. Why, you might even say that he gave me the day off.”
 
 
29

   Given my nasty fall off the cliffs, Jo-Jo insisted on checking me out one more time. She gave me a clean bill of health, and I left the salon and went back home to Fletcher’s house.    Finn and Silvio were both there waiting for me, sitting in the den, with stacks and stacks of papers spread out all around them and covering every available surface, from the couch cushions to the coffee table to the open space in front of the fireplace.
   “Finally! I thought you were never going to get here. We’ve been working for hours already,” Finn said, the words rushing out of his mouth without him even stopping to take a breath.
   He reached over, grabbed a large mug, and took a long swig. I could smell the strong scent of chicory coffee all the way across the den. From the bright glaze in Finn’s eyes, it looked like he’d had at least a pot of the stuff ­already—maybe more.
   “What’s going on? I thought that you guys cleaned up all the Dollmaker files and sent them back to the police station.”