CHAPTER 1
“Another human’s gone missing.”
Clare glanced up from her computer to see her colleague Ron dunking a donut into his coffee. “That brings it to five,” he told her, stuffing the now soggy donut into his mouth.
“You’ve got cinnamon all over your chin,” she deadpanned.
Ron swiped at his face with the back of his hand. “Aren’t you intrigued?”
“Let me guess. A human goes to a nightclub in the Purple Lantern District. They’re found the next morning, clothes torn, wandering the streets with a dreamy smile on their face. Withnomemory of what happened—supposedly.”
“Wrong.” Ron loved it when her reasoning was off target. Which was rare—she was a damn good sleuth. “These humans aren’t turning up again. Poof. They’re gone without a trace.”
“Right-oh.” Clare shrugged and resumed typing.
Minotaur interviewed. Police searched his premises; no pearls were found. Complainant informed. Case closed.
Powering down her computer, she gathered her phone, notebook, and a pen and swept them into her purse.
“Where are you off to?” Ron asked.
“There’s been a fire at Perfect Pooch Grooming.”
“Fur clippings caught alight, did they?”
“Probably an insurance job. Everyone knows Mabel’s going broke.”
“You’d think Tween had enough pooches to keep her in business.”
“You’d think so,” Clare said drily as she strode out of the office, pleased she hadn’t gotten caught on Ron’s hook. And no, she absolutely wouldnotcall her contacts to get details about the missing humans.
No way would she.
But when she’d finished investigating the charred remains of the dog grooming parlor, she grabbed her phone and called Saul. The burly orc had been her working partner for two years in Motham PD.
He’d taken over as chief of Motham PD’s investigations after detective chief inspector Oliver Hale resigned.
A frisson of heat ran down Clare’s spine, swirled low in her belly. Why did just thinking that fucking vampire’s name make her react like this?
It had been one night, one crazy night. What was wrong with her?
“Hi, Clare.”
“Hi Saul, how’s things?”
“Busy. You’ve heard about the most recent case?”
“What case?”
Saul’s hearty laugh boomed down the line. “Yeah, right. We’ve just notified the Tween and Twill PDs of the latest disappearance, and you’re calling for a chat. You don’t do chats.”
“I’m learning. Small talk over tea and scones is a necessary part of my job these days.”
“Hmmm, interesting concept, Clare Doyle genteelly sipping tea with Tween residents, little finger crooked.”
She had to smile.
“Actually, I was ringing to see how Harriet and the girls are.” Okay, that was a lie, but she did have fond memories of Saul’s family. Even if she had forgotten to send cards on his little girls’ birthdays since she left Motham. “But now you mention it,” Clare stroked a hand over her hair, pushing a strand behind her ear, “Ron said this case is a puzzle.”
