expression was fond. She took her husband’s hand, interlacing her fingers through his. “What’s caught your attention?”
“You have, now.” Wystan raised her hand, brushing a light kiss across the back. “But I am most intrigued by the mystery of Fenrir’s parents. Specifically, how Ophelia Malvery fits into all this.”
“That’s my number one question too,” Darcy agreed. “She’s still an enigma, even though I’ve found ten times as much information on her than anyone else involved in this weird family saga.”
“How did you manage that?” Candice asked.
“Google.” Darcy shrugged. “Not exactly a feat worthy of Sherlock Holmes. Rich, powerful, beautiful people tend to attract interest. There are tons of old articles about her, mainly from gossip and fashion magazines. She was a regular fixture in high society. Attended all the best parties, rubbed shoulders with all the best people.”
“Indeed.” Wystan leaned back in his chair, frowning thoughtfully. “She seems to have been quite the celebrity, back in her day. Which makes this business with her bodyguard all the more curious.”
“What’s odd about it?” Darcy asked, surprised. “I thought it was obvious. We know Ingar was a hellhound. Clearly Ophelia was his true mate.”
Candice raised her eyebrows. “Now I’m willing to bet you didn’t find that on Google.”
“Yes, actually. Well, indirectly at least.” Darcy leaned over to pull up one of the relevant article on her laptop. “It was a huge scandal at the time. High society heiress hires ex-con bodyguard, and two weeks later, they’re married.”
“Ballsy,” Candice said. “How did the Malverys take that?”
“Badly at first, but she seems to have talked them around. There were rumors that the Malvery family was going to disown her. But she swanned straight back onto the social circuit with her head held high and her new husband at her side, and no one dared to make a peep. Guess she just styled it out.”
“Certainly sounds like your typical whirlwind shifter romance.” Candice looked down at Wystan. “Why did you think it was odd?”
“Because ten years later, she accused Ingar of abducting his own son,” Wystan said. “When Fenton went missing, she told the police that her marriage was breaking down. That she’d wanted a divorce, but Ingar had threatened to take both children and disappear. That is not something that true mates do. On either side.”
“People change,” Darcy said. “Maybe they fell out of love.”
“Not possible.” Wystan’s fingers tightened on Candice’s. “With all due respect, Darcy, you cannot appreciate the depth of a shifter’s feelings toward their mate. Time only makes that bond grow stronger. It is simply inconceivable that a shifter could violate that sacred connection.”
“Could it have been a cover story?” Candice asked. “Ophelia had to tell the cops something. She could hardly explain that her husband had turned their son into a hellhound in order to hide him in the wilderness.”
“But she could have filed two missing person reports,” Darcy said slowly. “Instead, she accused her own husband, sparking off not only a manhunt but a whole fresh scandal. Crap. You’re right, Wystan. It doesn’t add up. Why didn’t I see that before?”
“Probably because you’re dead on your feet,” Candice said with another yawn. “As am I. Fascinating as all this is, can we pick it up again in the morning?”
“Technically, it is the morning,” Joe said, returning with two large mugs of coffee.
Candice groaned. “Don’t remind me. Come on, Wystan, or I’m going to fall asleep right here on this floor. You can keep playing Watson to Darcy’s Holmes later.”
Joe handed Darcy one of the mugs as Wystan and Candice collected their coats. “What was all that about?”
“More mysteries.” Darcy sighed. “This case is a damn hydra. Every time I think I’ve found one answer, two more questions pop up.”
She would have explained further, but she’d just taken a sip of coffee. She suddenly found that she had in fact only one, extremely pressing question.
“What,” she gasped, pinching her burning nose, “is in this?”
“It’s my special brew,” Joe said proudly, as she tried to work out if she could still breathe. “Guaranteed to keep any fire crew peppy all night when out cutting line. Chili-infused coffee.”
Darcy wiped her streaming eyes. “I think you mean coffee-infused chilies. Well, at least I’m awake now. Any word from-”
“Seren?” Joe finished for her. He shook his head, taking a deep, appreciative drink from his own mug. To Darcy’s astonishment, he didn’t burst into flames. “Still nothing.”
“We’re heading out, guys,” Candice called from the doorway. “But call if you need us, okay?”
“I’m sure we’ll be