a glass tumbler. I waved it her way. She shook her head, her face growing redder by the second. “We do need to talk, but not about the missing-fairy case,” I said quietly.
Her expression turned from annoyed to suspicious. “About what, then? If you say Clark, I’m leaving right now.”
“I’m not talking about Clark.” Not exactly. I swallowed my whiskey in one gulp, letting the burn of it ease the taste of my next words. My eyes met hers, and Grumpy’s warning flickered through my mind again. “Do you have something to tell me, Izzy?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Seconds passed in silence.
Finally she slowly turned her back to me. “How’d you find out?”
“It’s kind of what I do.” For better or worse. Her reaction to the question told me everything I needed to know. Grumpy wasn’t lying. She planned to oust me from my own company. Anger swept through me, sending a current of electricity so strong up my spine that my hair stood on end. “Is it true? Are you—”
“Yes,” she said sharply. “But you weren’t supposed to find out.”
I laughed without humor. “You are in cahoots with Clark to take over my co—”
“Wait! What?” she yelled, spinning to face me, her hands flying to her hips. “You think I’m involved in a takeover? Are you nuts?”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you’re not?”
“Of course not.” She laughed with bitterness. “I’m not like your flea-riddled girlfriend—”
“Forget Bo Peep,” I said, reaching for her arm. My fingers closed around her forearm, generating a slight spark. I quickly dropped it before I hurt her. “If you’re not involved in a hostile takeover, what the hell have you been keeping from me?”
She winced. “Why don’t you take a seat . . .”
CHAPTER 23
“Y ou’re working a case without telling me?” I shook my head for the tenth time since she’d spilled her proverbial beans. I couldn’t believe her. She’d been working some case for more than a month without my knowledge. I pictured the danger she could face while on a case, any case, and the lowlifes who would cut out her heart for a few bucks. I wanted to shake her until her very strong white teeth rattled.
One of her flame-colored eyebrows rose. “And this is different from you taking Peyton’s missing-fairy case how?”
“Because . . . I . . . ah . . .” I jumped from the couch to pace. “It just is, damn it.” I jabbed my finger at her. “I’m the investigator. You are . . .”
“I’m what, Blue?” she asked in a dangerous tone. “A pretty face? A trophy partner? How exactly do you see our working relationship?”
I shook my head. “You’re putting words in my mouth. I just meant, I have experience working cases.”
“And I don’t?” She shook her head. “I remember solving my fair share over the last year.”
“Together,” I said. “ We solved those cases. Not you by yourself.” I rushed on before she could argue. “Investigations can be very dangerous, Izzy. People can get hurt.” I paused, pushing my next words through the lump in my throat at the very thought of any harm coming to her. “You could get hurt.”
For a moment, the anger left her face and she looked resigned. “I won’t.”
“You don’t know that.” I licked my dry lips. “Please, let me help you. We can work the case together, whatever it might be. I’ll even let you take the lead.”
“Let me?” She snorted, her voice rising with each word. “You’ll let me take the lead on my own case?”
I held up my hand. “Take it easy. I’m merely trying to help.”
“Then keep your mouth shut.” She poked her finger into my chest. Hard. A blue bolt of electricity shot from me to her finger, but she didn’t seem to notice the electrical charge. “You go ahead and work your missing-fairy case, and I’ll work mine. When it’s over”—her eyes met mine and her voice quieted—“we will reevaluate.”
“Reevaluate what, Izzy?” I
Her expression turned from annoyed to suspicious. “About what, then? If you say Clark, I’m leaving right now.”
“I’m not talking about Clark.” Not exactly. I swallowed my whiskey in one gulp, letting the burn of it ease the taste of my next words. My eyes met hers, and Grumpy’s warning flickered through my mind again. “Do you have something to tell me, Izzy?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Seconds passed in silence.
Finally she slowly turned her back to me. “How’d you find out?”
“It’s kind of what I do.” For better or worse. Her reaction to the question told me everything I needed to know. Grumpy wasn’t lying. She planned to oust me from my own company. Anger swept through me, sending a current of electricity so strong up my spine that my hair stood on end. “Is it true? Are you—”
“Yes,” she said sharply. “But you weren’t supposed to find out.”
I laughed without humor. “You are in cahoots with Clark to take over my co—”
“Wait! What?” she yelled, spinning to face me, her hands flying to her hips. “You think I’m involved in a takeover? Are you nuts?”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you’re not?”
“Of course not.” She laughed with bitterness. “I’m not like your flea-riddled girlfriend—”
“Forget Bo Peep,” I said, reaching for her arm. My fingers closed around her forearm, generating a slight spark. I quickly dropped it before I hurt her. “If you’re not involved in a hostile takeover, what the hell have you been keeping from me?”
She winced. “Why don’t you take a seat . . .”
CHAPTER 23
“Y ou’re working a case without telling me?” I shook my head for the tenth time since she’d spilled her proverbial beans. I couldn’t believe her. She’d been working some case for more than a month without my knowledge. I pictured the danger she could face while on a case, any case, and the lowlifes who would cut out her heart for a few bucks. I wanted to shake her until her very strong white teeth rattled.
One of her flame-colored eyebrows rose. “And this is different from you taking Peyton’s missing-fairy case how?”
“Because . . . I . . . ah . . .” I jumped from the couch to pace. “It just is, damn it.” I jabbed my finger at her. “I’m the investigator. You are . . .”
“I’m what, Blue?” she asked in a dangerous tone. “A pretty face? A trophy partner? How exactly do you see our working relationship?”
I shook my head. “You’re putting words in my mouth. I just meant, I have experience working cases.”
“And I don’t?” She shook her head. “I remember solving my fair share over the last year.”
“Together,” I said. “ We solved those cases. Not you by yourself.” I rushed on before she could argue. “Investigations can be very dangerous, Izzy. People can get hurt.” I paused, pushing my next words through the lump in my throat at the very thought of any harm coming to her. “You could get hurt.”
For a moment, the anger left her face and she looked resigned. “I won’t.”
“You don’t know that.” I licked my dry lips. “Please, let me help you. We can work the case together, whatever it might be. I’ll even let you take the lead.”
“Let me?” She snorted, her voice rising with each word. “You’ll let me take the lead on my own case?”
I held up my hand. “Take it easy. I’m merely trying to help.”
“Then keep your mouth shut.” She poked her finger into my chest. Hard. A blue bolt of electricity shot from me to her finger, but she didn’t seem to notice the electrical charge. “You go ahead and work your missing-fairy case, and I’ll work mine. When it’s over”—her eyes met mine and her voice quieted—“we will reevaluate.”
“Reevaluate what, Izzy?” I
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