I’ve tried looking up newspaper articles, courtroom documents, but there are no reports in the news. It’s strange. The courtroom documents aren’t even public. I don’t understand what all the cloak-and-dagger stuff is around this poor kid, and I’d like to know what crimes he committed before I take him in.”
I took another bite of soup. The Authority was probably behind the secrecy. They had put the hush on the circumstances of Lon Trager’s death, Frank’s dark magic shenanigans, and my dad’s stolen corpse. None of those ever hit the news. Maybe the Authority had pull, or people, in the courts as well.
Nola didn’t know much about the Authority, and I was inclined to keep it that way for now. Telling her about the secret society of magic users meant putting her at risk.
I refused to do that.
“I’ll ask Violet if she knows anyone that can help us with this,” I said. “Are you going to call Detective Stotts and see if he can help?”
She twisted her fingers together. “I think I will. What do you think about him?”
I sipped the remainder of the broth out of the bowl. “I only met him a couple weeks ago. He seems to be a good police officer. Dedicated to his job. Determined. Said he grew up in the Northwest. Raised by his mom mostly here in Portland. Has good taste in coffee, so that’s something in his favor.” I smiled.
“I didn’t know his wife had passed away though. I thought the ring . . . well, you know.”
She nodded. “He could be lying about that.”
“How very suspicious of you,” I said approvingly. “But I don’t think so. He didn’t smell like he was lying. Oh, one more thing. He’s cursed.”
I took a huge bite of bread, white with a hint of garlic and Parmesan. Delish.
“What?”
I talked around the mouthful of bread. “Cursed. Hounds who work for him die very unusual deaths. Weird, huh?”
“My God, Allie. How can you joke about that?”
“I’m not joking. People really think he’s cursed.”
“Do you?”
I took another bite of bread to give me time to think. Stotts could prove by numbers and odds why Hounds tended to die when they worked for him. But a small, suspicious side of me wasn’t buying it. I didn’t think foul play was involved. I did think Stotts had a knack for being around when Hounds pushed too hard, made the wrong choice, or finally gave up all together.
“I don’t know if it’s a curse. I don’t believe in curses. But . . .” I rubbed my fingers back through my wet hair and slouched in the chair. “Something. If nothing else, he’s a magnet for bad luck.”
“And you are working for him because . . . ?”
“I’m bad luck?” I grinned. “Because I made a promise to Pike that I would look after the group of Hounds he was leading. Make sure they checked in with each other, keep track of who was working with the police, with Stotts, so we’d know who was alive and who was dead.”
“Sounds kind of lonely and grim,” she said.
“Not really. It’s a support group, I guess.”
“And you’re leading it?”
I couldn’t parse her change of tone. “Yes?”
She grinned. “I can’t believe I heard that out of your mouth. You, taking responsibility for others. Good job.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I drawled.
“No, really.” She leaned forward, a twinkle in her eye. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you step up like this. So respectable.”
“Forget I said anything.”
“No, it’s good. And you must have really cared for Pike to promise to look after everything for him.”
“Not everything. Just the Hounds. Have I talked about Pike much?” I asked.
“No. You’ve mentioned his name a couple times. What was he like?”
“Sort of what I wished my dad could have been. Not that he was the nicest guy around. But he was . . . fair. He always told it to me straight. Didn’t lie. Even when he knew I wouldn’t agree with him.”
“I’m glad he was in your life,” she said.
Which was just what I needed to hear, because I was glad he was in my life too. I’d just never been able to say that to anyone. See how great best friends were? Even if they were also incredibly annoying.
Someone knocked on the door. I straightened, dug my thumb in a circle at my temple, waiting out the spike of pain. I should have taken some aspirin. “Did you invite someone?” I asked, trying to remember if I had locked the