Page 31 of Magic Betrayed

“Last known location?”

“Parked in front of the Sheridan Village Apartments.”

“Time?” Her tone had grown brisk and businesslike.

“Last night, around one in the morning.”

“And the apartment security cameras?” Her expression suggested she already knew.

“Someone seems to have messed with the recording.”

“Mmm.” Her eyebrows arched expressively. “How unfortunate.”

“Do you think you can find it?”

Her smile turned undeniably smug. “Oh, I can find almost anything, dear. Just don’t blame me if you don’t like what I find.”

“Any information is better than what I have now.”

Drawing in hand, she headed for her workstation, turning around halfway there to eye us once more. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in some tea? I have a lovely chocolate rooibos that just arrived yesterday.”

“Thank you,” I said hastily, “but I’m good. Already had coffee this morning.”

Her mouth curved downward in an expression of distaste. “Philistines.”

She could call me all the names she wanted if she would help me figure out who attacked me.

Once back in her chair, the affable grandma seemed to fall away, revealing a silver-haired shark with steely eyes and nimble fingers. Keys clacked, screens flashed, and I started with surprise when the strains of a stately classical tune filled the underground space.

“Bach for searches,” she called out over her shoulder. “Wagner for hacking, unless I need more finesse. Then I just go with the mood.”

Callum was visibly shaking with the effort of holding back laughter.

Personally, I was too busy being legitimately terrified. No idea why this little old lady raised the hackles on my neck so badly, but even Callum had never scared me the way she did. Was it my hunch magic at work? Or just my plain old lizard brain sensing a camouflaged predator?

“Aaand, here’s your boy.” She let out a cackle as she eyed the screen in front of her.

I leaped to my feet and darted across the room.

Sure enough—in the single frozen frame visible on the monitor, I could clearly make out the same logo I’d seen the night before. The letters in the middle were indeed an R and an E, but the shot was too blurry to read the words underneath.

“That’s it!” I said fiercely. “Where is this?”

“Liquor store camera near the corner of Western and Main,” she reported, a little distractedly. “They were headed north. You can go sit down again. This is going to take a bit.”

She dove back in, so I returned reluctantly to the couch, trying to avoid looking at the painted eyeballs that seemed to be watching my every move.

A flicker of movement caught the corner of my eye, and I turned, half expecting one of the dolls to start brandishing a weapon, or perhaps the almost viscerally necessary cat.

But the thing that moved casually around the end of the couch and regarded me stoically out of round, unblinking brown eyes…

“Am I seeing things?” I murmured to Callum, freezing in place as I eyed the creature with suspicion.

“Only things that are really there, I hope.”

“Perhaps it’s time for a checkup, dear,” Grandma Pearl admonished, without even turning to look at me. “That’s Reginald Cornelius Bunbridge III. He’s a pedigreed French Lop. Three time Best-of-Breed at the ARBA Convention.”

He waswhat now?

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