alley. Behind him, the scrum broke apart in disappointment. One lucky tourist snapped frantic photos before the disentangled fey winked out of visibility and the park abruptly sprouted a number of new shrubs and bushes, not to mention a pretty ring of poisonous mushrooms. “Is that you?”
The hobgoblin’s beady eyes gleamed. “The sister is back!” he announced triumphantly. “That makes us even for the sunglasses, right? I get a clean slate in your ledger?”
“Right,” I said. “So where is she now?”
Tuggle’s hooked nose twitched. “What do you mean now? She drove into town in a car like before. You said the first to tell you when,” he said in an accusatory tone. “You didn’t say to tell you where.”
“I thought it was—” I abandoned the thought in midsentence. “Never mind. Can you find out where she is now? Then I’ll owe you.”
“Ha!” a familiar voice shrilled. Jojo popped into view, hovering, green arms no bigger around than pipe cleaners folded over her slight bosom. “The sorceress has purchased residence in the same inn she frequented prior,” she informed me. “I thought to keep watch there. And now thy debt to me is increased yet again.”
Echoing her stance, I folded my arms. “My offer was to Tuggle, not you.”
Her wings beat at an agitated pace and her luminous lavender eyes narrowed. “I assumed—”
I interrupted her. “You know what they say—”
Jojo hissed at me. In the window upstairs, Mogwai hissed back. Tuggle scowled and fingered his nose.
“Okay, okay!” I sighed. “Jojo, just keep an eye on her and stay out of sight. Let me know if she makes a move to go anywhere. For Sinclair’s sake. Do that and I’ll owe you. Deal?”
The fairy sniffed. “Thou hast a deal, scullion.”
Great.
Upstairs, I petted Mogwai until he calmed down. First, I called the chief to let him know everything was under control, and then I called Sinclair to set the coven’s phone tree in motion.
And then I changed my clothes and went to pay a call on dear Emmy herself.
Strolling over to Idlewild Inn, I felt surprisingly calm. To be honest, a good wardrobe helped. One of the other things I’d done in the intervening weeks was turn my mom loose on mine. She’d designed a simple jersey knit dress for me that had just the right amount of motion, drape, and cling, and actually worked with the broad belt from which dauda-dagr hung. In charcoal-gray with a pair of knee-high black patent leather boots—sophisticated, but practical, with just a one-inch heel—it made for a reasonably elegant working outfit. I felt grown-up and competent wearing it. Plus, it left my tail free.
The boots had been a splurge. Although I had to wait another two months for it, I was kind of counting on collecting that two hundred and forty dollars I’d turned in after I busted Tuggle and Company’s shell game.
I had to show my police ID to the desk clerk at the Idlewild before she agreed to ring Emmeline Palmer’s room and announce me as a visitor. Then I had to wait, idling in the Idlewild’s quasi-Victorian lobby until dear Emmy deigned to emerge.
Maybe it was all the training in psychic self-defense that I’d been doing, or maybe it was just that Emmeline wasn’t bothering to hide her light under the proverbial bushel, but this time I sensed her power as she glided into the lobby.
Her dark gaze swept over me, possibly taking in the upgraded wardrobe—Emmeline herself was wearing a beautifully cut pantsuit of taupe silk with a cream-colored blouse underneath—and then skated past me to look out the window at the street beyond. She seemed mildly surprised to see nothing out of the ordinary there.
“Have you come to escort me out of town?” she inquired. “I would have expected a posse. Isn’t that how you Americans do things?”
“Sinclair wants a chance for the two of you to talk things out reasonably,” I said. “And I’ve agreed to it.”
Her eyelids flickered. “He does? I wouldn’t have—” She stopped.
“Wouldn’t have what?” I asked suspiciously.
“I wouldn’t have thought he’d bother,” Emmeline said flatly. “My brother knows when my mind’s made up.”
“Yeah, well.” I shrugged. “Maybe he’s got a few things to say that you haven’t considered.” I wasn’t about to give her any hint that her father was going to be part of the parley.
She eyed me dubiously. “And you would have me believe you simply agreed to this?”
“I don’t care what you believe.” I eyed her in return. “What was your plan if