The Elemental Detective by Kirsten Weiss

Author:Kirsten Weiss [Weiss, Kirsten]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Fantasy, Female sleuth, paranormal mystery, urban fantasy
ISBN: 0985510374
Amazon: B00HCNDGPY
Barnesnoble: B00HCNDGPY
Goodreads: 19321529
Publisher: Kirsten Weiss
Published: 2013-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

“Mr. Mosse!” Sarah hurried down the garden path toward them, her long, black hair trailing over one shoulder.

Donovan paused, plastic key card in the slot.

She stumbled to a halt, panting. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry about what?” he said.

“The police searched your room. They had a warrant. I couldn’t stop them, but I assure you the press will not learn of this from any hotel staff. They’re gone now. And the maids have been inside your bungalow to put things back in order as best they could.”

Donovan’s lips flattened into a grim line, and Riga guessed what he was thinking. Sarah couldn’t really control the hotel staff, and surely more people than the maids knew the police had searched their rooms.

“Thanks for letting us know,” Riga said.

Sarah knotted her fingers together. “They wouldn’t tell me why—”

“We witnessed a death,” Riga said. “Two in one week struck them as suspicious.”

“A death! Who?”

“A man named Mana,” Donovan said. “If you’ll excuse us.” He placed a hand on Riga’s lower back and guided her inside. Once the door was closed behind them, he said, “So the police didn’t let us off so easily after all.”

“We look guilty as hell.” Riga paced the living area, caged between the couch and the dining table. This was exactly what their adversary had wanted, and they’d played into his – or her – hands. “Dammit!”

There was a scratching at the glass door, and Riga opened it.

Brigitte hopped inside. “What have I missed?”

“We’re prime suspects in a murder,” Riga said bitterly.

“Again? Tell me everything.”

Riga did, while Donovan made phone calls to his lawyer, his publicity agent.

“This necromancer is a devious one,” Brigitte said. “But you could not have ignored ze poor Mana’s call. Still, you have been playing his game. It is time he plays by your rules.”

Donovan ended the call, and looked down at the drying tarot cards Riga had laid out on the bungalow’s low coffee table. Their submersion in the creek had left the cards wrinkled, and the sitting room’s hanging lamp highlighted their faded and streaked colors.

He sniffed, wrinkling his nose. “They’re molding. I think you need a new deck.”

Brigitte chuckled. “Especially since she hasn’t been playing with a full one.” She reached behind her neck with one claw and scratched, the grating sound of stone on stone.

“You’re a laugh riot, Brigitte.” Riga swept the cards off the table and dropped them into a round garbage bin. Donovan was right. They were ruined.

Donovan’s shoulders twitched. “Mind if I turn down the A/C? It’s freezing in here.”

“Go ahead,” Riga said. “In fact, I could use some fresh air. Would you open the doors?”

Donovan drew back the floor-to-ceiling shutters and slid open the doors to reveal their small, private pool, set into the tile patio. A salt-water breeze flowed into the room, rattling the palms outside, and some of Riga’s tension eased away. Brigitte was right. It was time to take control of the game.

“Shall we scry?” Riga asked.

Donovan stared into the darkness, not answering, then turned. “What do you need from me?”

“Help clearing a space, for starters.

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