Dead and Dusted by Lily Webb (most recommended books .TXT) 📗

couldn’t come up with a reason for any of Leland’s guards to betray him in life and in death.

We arrived at the fourth floor a few moments later, and Brady charged out of the elevator first. Thanks to her four wings, Agent Gemwood had no difficulty keeping up, but I struggled to match their pace. Brady stopped outside room 432 and hammered on the door so hard that dust shook from its frame. “Jorah!” Brady bellowed and pounded the wood with another triplet from his fist. A beat later, the door flew open, revealing a disheveled, red-eyed Jorah, who in his undershirt and boxers looked very much like he’d just gone to bed.

“Boss? What’s wrong?” Jorah asked, his voice croaking with sleep, but instead of answering, Brady shouldered past his colleague. Bewildered, Jorah’s bloodshot eyes darted from Agent Gemwood to me to Brady. “Boss?” he repeated desperately.

“Mr. Marth’s gone, along with the evidence in the restroom,” Brady explained as he paced the room. He wrinkled his nose at Jorah’s work robes that dangled from the back of the single chair in the corner where he’d thrown them. Realizing he wasn’t decent for his guests, Jorah hurried to throw the robes over his head.

“I can explain, I swear—”

“Explain what?!” Brady thundered, making all of us jump. “There shouldn’t be anything to explain, Jorah!”

“I know, it’s just, I was exhausted, and I wasn’t thinking clearly, and this woman, she was so beautiful, boss, you have no idea—”

“What woman?!”

“The really tall one. You know, the one who used to work for Mr. Marth.”

“Zadie Chamberlain?” I asked, and Jorah’s eyes shot to mine. He flashed me an appreciative look, though I didn’t think he was out of the fire just yet — and might never be, depending on what he said next.

“Yeah, her! She came down there last night insisting that we let her in to see Mr. Marth one last time. She said she wanted to pay her respects and say a last goodbye before she left—”

“YOU LET HER LEAVE?!” Brady roared like a wild animal. The vein I’d noticed throbbing above his temple before now threatened to explode from the side of his head.

Jorah stuck his hands out at Brady as if he were afraid the man might attack him. “Well, I wouldn’t say I let her, exactly. She was leaving regardless.”

“So, you just watched her waltz out of the inn and didn’t think I might need to know about that?”

“I’m telling you, boss, she did something to me!” Jorah objected. “I swear, the woman cast a spell on me. One minute, I’m arguing with her about how I can’t let her into the restroom, and then the next thing I know, I’m watching her walk out the front door. I remember nothing in between.”

“A spell on you, huh? Wouldn’t that have required a wand or an incantation?” Brady asked quietly, clearly trying to keep himself from losing it.

“Not necessarily,” Agent Gemwood said. “Fairies are living proof that not all magic requires a piece of wood or a special word.”

“Wait, are you saying what I think you’re saying? Could Zadie be a fairy?” I asked Agent Gemwood, who beamed at me. “I mean, she doesn’t have wings or pointy ears or anything, though. Erm, no offense.”

“None taken,” Agent Gemwood said, and her smile widened. “It’s certainly possible. Fairies have access to powerful magic, which could include disguising themselves. My species can be quite mischievous like that sometimes.”

“It would also explain where the fairy dust came from!” I said as the pieces fell into place.

“I think if Zadie Chamberlain were really a fairy, we would’ve figured that out before now,” Brady countered. “She worked with Mr. Marth for years, and I know fairies live basically forever, but I doubt even a fairy would have the patience to pull off such a long con.”

He had a good point. If Zadie really was behind this, then she would’ve had plenty of other opportunities to go after Leland — and I couldn’t piece together how she might’ve gotten the letter that ultimately killed Leland into his room. But if it wasn’t Zadie, then how could we explain her bizarre visit to Jorah?

“It was definitely Zadie,” Jorah said. “I’d bet my life on it. She had this pull, this magic, magnetic thing that I couldn’t resist, even though I knew I should’ve. She stared me in the eyes, got close to me all flirty like, and kissed me on the cheek, and that’s the last thing I remember before I came to again in the foyer. I watched her walk out, and I wanted to stop her, but I couldn’t make my mouth move. I felt like something had frozen me in place.”

Brady’s eyes flashed. “That sounds an awful lot like a vampire’s glamour.”

“No, not that. Her lips were as warm and alive as the sun when she kissed me.”

With his brows furrowed, Brady turned to Agent Gemwood. “Any ideas then?”

“There are a few possibilities, but I can’t be sure yet,” she answered, then turned to me. “Could you take me to Ms. Chamberlain’s room? I’d like to search it.”

“Uh, sure, but I don’t have the key, so I don’t know if—”

“Not to worry; I can take care of that,” Agent Gemwood said with a wink. “Besides, if she’s really gone, I don’t think she’ll mind.”

“Oh, uh, okay then. Follow me,” I said and led her and Brady back to the elevator, leaving Jorah standing slack jawed in his room. When we’d all piled inside, I pressed the button for the third floor and slumped back against the elevator’s wall. Though I believed Jorah, I couldn’t make a lick of sense out of what he’d shared. What reason could Zadie have to tamper with the evidence in the restroom? Did that mean she was the one who’d killed Leland and was trying to cover it up? And if so, how in Lilith’s name had she gotten that dust-laden letter in his room? She’d been sitting with the rest