It was a beast.
The paint was tourmaline blue, much peppier than the standard crimson favored by the Society, and the inside still had that new-car smell. Plenty of room to carry necromantic supplies, handcuffed suspects, traumatized victims, and occasionally Eva and her friends when her parents needed alone time. Plus, the panoramic sunroof that ran nearly the entire length of the SUV made it feel open and airy.
Linus spent too much time wearing masks to give up his mother’s car service, but he had grown oddly attached to my behemoth. I didn’t ask, but I could guess he had never owned a car. Neither had I. The only vehicle I’d had to my name was Jolene until Moby.
And yes, I named my SUV after a fictional whale. It really was that big.
Anyway, I had a hunch that the novelty of car ownership appealed to him far more than being reliant on a driver and car that made him stick out like a sore thumb. Morrison was nice and all, but the car service robbed Linus of his anonymity. Not that he had much in Savannah, given who his mother was, who he was, who I was, but he valued his privacy. Maybe, if he was a good boy, he would find one in metallic red under the Christmas tree this year. Sure his mom would have an aneurism, but it would make him happy, and that’s all that mattered to me.
Bette Ruiz greeted Linus with a squeal of enthusiasm and a brisk hug that told me where he shopped for his mother’s birthdays and all major holidays. She was old enough to be his grandmother, but she didn’t let that stop her from admiring him with wistful sighs that screamed if I were a few centuries younger…
“This is my fiancée.” Linus extricated himself and took a healthy step back. “Grier Woolworth.”
I got the distinct impression he was hiding from her. Or her grabby hands. Or more fire-engine-red lipstick smears on his cheeks.
Seriously, was that top button undone when we arrived?
“Oh, hello.” She didn’t glance my way, which was a good trick since she was hunting Linus and I stood between them. “I heard about the engagement.” She popped out her bottom lip. “I was hurt when you didn’t come to me for your rings.” She walked her fingers up what she could reach of his chest. “We work so well together.”
“That’s my fault.” Might as well embrace the role of villain. “I had his ring made in Atlanta.”
“You’re the Potentate of Savannah.” She touched a fingertip to where his pulse beat in the hollow of his throat, and her shiver had nothing to do with the temperature of his skin. “You should support local business, hon.”
“And you should keep your hands—and lips—to yourself.” I shackled her wrists and lowered her arms to her sides. “Linus is too polite to say it, so I’ll do it for him.” Our gazes clashed. “Back off.”
Color flooded Bette’s cheeks until they matched the color of her mouth.
Linus, the chicken, eased behind me and rested his hands on my shoulders. “We have a few questions for you, Bette. We’re more than happy to compensate you for your time.”
Bette, who had recovered the ability to speak, shrilled, “I’m going to call your mother, young man.”
“Here.” I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts. “I’ll even dial the number for you.”
The mottling in her face drained to a white that belonged on a corpse when I hit the call button. “I…”
“Hi, Mom.” I really laid it on thick. “We’re here with Bette, and she’s threatening to tattle on me because I slapped her on the wrist for inappropriate touching.”
“She’s such a tramp.” Lethe made a disgusted noise. “She slid a hand into Hood’s back pocket, and when I called her on it, she claimed he had stolen a ring and shoved it down there. She was only trying to get it back, of course. How dare I think anything else.”
“I’ll help,” Bette cut in. “However I can. I’m glad to.” She wavered on her feet. “I just need a minute.”
Wobbling behind the counter, she plunked down on a stool and strapped on a clear plastic mask.
Another customer might have felt bad about driving an old woman to her oxygen tank, but I noticed the hose had come loose and curled behind her. That didn’t stop her great, heaving gasps as she faked getting her fix.
“We’ll be happy to join you for dinner later this week.” I kept my tone cheerful with Lethe. “Bye for now.”
“Barbecue that old cow,” Lethe yelled. “Oh. Barbecue. That sounds good right about now.”
I ended the call before she made me hungry.
Fiddlesticks.
Too late.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to cooperate.” I donned my Dame Woolworth mask, which I should have done before entering the shop. Social status would be more intimidating to a woman like her than my official title. “We have a ring we would like you to examine. We need to know if the diamonds are authentic, and if so, the total karat weight. We would also like confirmation the band is eighteen karat gold.”
Linus, who I expected to start clucking or scratching with his foot at any moment, placed the baggie with the ring in my hand to pass over.
He and I were going to have a serious talk about his behavior once we got out of here.
Bette accepted the baggie and carried it to where she kept the tools of her trade.
While she began her tests, I turned my back on her to give Linus and me privacy. He must have read the curiosity on my face. He leaned down until our cheeks touched, and his lips brushed my ear.
“She was my tenth-grade teacher.”
That would explain her knee-jerk threat to call his mom, and her panic when I didn’t flinch away from the suggestion. Linus wasn’t a kid. Tattling on him would only get her in trouble for wasting the Grande Dame’s time.
“She taught at the fancy necromancer school you attended?”
High Society kids attended their own school that focused on the necromantic arts while Low Society kids tended to stick to the public school system. A traditional education was more useful to them since the special school focused on magic they didn’t possess.
Maud hadn’t seen the point in sending me there either. She told me the best I could hope for was an assistant position. Hearing you couldn’t hack it from one of the brightest necromantic minds of our time? Yeah. It hurt. A lot. Even knowing her reasons, I still twinge to recall how she told me I was no practitioner.
“She was fired after incriminating photos were found on her computer.”
“Ugh.” I fought to keep my hands from curling into fists. “I don’t need details. Seriously.”
“She opened shop a few months later and used her affinity for metallurgy to earn a living.”
“I figured you must shop here a lot to get that kind of welcome.”
“Uh, no. I avoid her unless a local case demands her expertise.”
“How did Lethe end up here?”
“She wanted the best, and Bette is the best in Savannah.”
“Why did Bette teach at all if she’s so great with metal? The pay must be higher in the private sector. Pretty much everyone earns more than teachers, except cops.” A greasy knot coiled in my gut when I understood. “Kids.”
The incriminating photos must have been of kids, and teaching granted her easy access to them.