Shadow of Doubt - Hailey Edwards Page 0,42

the street.

“That’s their building?” I hadn’t paid attention to the street signs on the way over. “How convenient.”

The poshest wargs in the city would want to be close to the poshest restaurants and retailers.

We hit the crosswalk and approached a tasteful entrance guarded by an unobtrusive doorman.

“Ms. Clairmont has been expecting you,” he said in a bass rumble. “Check in at the desk, please.”

Two out of three doormen found me perfectly tolerable. This was proof, in my opinion, that the nightshift doorman at the Faraday had it out for me. Thank the goddess I would be back to using the window as my front door soon.

“Thank you.” I led Bonnie through the door he held for us. I walked straight to the counter where a young man sat with a guest book flipped to a blank page. “Hadley Whitaker for Ayla Clairmont.”

“Sign here, please.” He indicated the topmost line with a pen more expensive than my shoes. Though, to be fair, odds were his pen didn’t have to walk through blood or other bodily fluids. He could afford to invest in something nice while I had to go for practical, borderline disposable. I took it from him, admiring its weight, and made my mark. “Take the elevator on your left to the sixth floor. Those are our office suites. Ms. Clairmont will see you in room 612.”

The camera in the elevator was obvious, so neither of us spoke on the ride. The hallway we entered was minimalist but elegant, lots of grays and blacks and whites. A door was open at the far end, and I heard a woman’s voice carrying on a one-sided conversation. She hung up the landline phone when she spotted me in the doorway and waved us in.

Ayla was curvy in a way that made men drool, and she dressed like a woman who didn’t mind using her breasts to get who or what she wanted out of life.

I glanced down at the uniboob my sports bra gave me under my tee and debated if my job would be easier if I wore leather and flashed cleavage. Probably not. Goddess only knows what I would come home with stuck between and under them.

“Hadley.” She gestured me toward a seat opposite hers. “I haven’t seen you in months. How’s training?”

“I can’t complain.” I sat and didn’t fuss when Ford took point behind me. Bonnie paced in the doorway, giving the impression she was on patrol, which was too cute for words. “How’s alphaing?”

Her throaty laugh came off as genuine, a neat trick. “I can’t complain either.”

“Your doorman informed me I was expected,” I said lightly.

“I heard you visited the Loups and Mendelsohn. I assumed I would be next and made Deon aware.”

“Where did you hear it from, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Here and there.” She spread her hands. “I have my sources.”

Most factions had lost interest in me after the first few months, but Ford joining me for this investigation had shoved me back into the spotlight.

There would be those in power looking to pick apart my candidacy over this. I would get spanked for preferential treatment if I didn’t spin it right, but I was in too deep to back out now.

“In that case—” I kept my tone friendly, “—I’ll make an assumption about what your sources have told you and skip to the point. Do you know a woman named Shonda Randall?”

“Don’t you mean did I know her?” She leaned forward and folded her hands on her desktop. “It’s my understanding she was murdered in a most gruesome fashion.” She cut her eyes toward Ford. “She was gwyllgi, I believe.”

The Clairmonts, with their downtown location and more urbane outlooks, came off as soft. Compared to the other packs in the area, they were, but there were less obvious downsides to dealing with them than with Mendelsohn or the Loups. The Clairmonts’ distance from city center gave information time to find cracks to hide in. Ayla’s position made it easy for her to keep eyes and ears all over town.

“All right.” I had tried playing dumb, but Ayla was too smart for it. “Let’s cut to the chase.”

“Don’t stop on my account.” Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “I enjoy the game. Mr. Lawson does as well.”

“You’ll have to forgive my ineptitude,” I said dryly. “I didn’t receive the same home training.”

“Did any of us?” Her laughter invited me to join in. “His mother is the single most powerful and influential necromancer alive. Have you ever