Page 32 of Werewolves Don't Howl
“Looks like there was some evidence, but they cleaned it since. Pity this alley isn’t under surveillance,” Silverton said, looking up at the wall that stretched up. There were a few small windows, but none were particularly visible from this garbage can.
“Do you think Ridley did get some of its blood?” I asked, frowning at the freakishly clean spot on the alley wall.
“There was definitely some kind of evidence,” he said, glancing at me.
I smiled back. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. If Ridley’s got its blood under his nails, they’ll find it in evidence.”
Actually, Ridley’s nails were clean. Immaculate. Freakishly tidy, like the wall had been. Mick, the guy at the morgue, shrugged as he pushed Ridley’s mutilated body back in its refrigerator. “Sorry, Delphi. Why isn’t Loren on this beat? She really gave up a story like this for family? That’s weird.” His voice had no intonation. He looked like a corpse with hollow eyes and cheeks, but he definitely wasn’t dead. Probably.
“Were his nails like this when he came in?” I asked, while Silverton looked unapproachable. Usually he bothered to look charming, but he didn’t have time for that while he was considering this new evidence.
Mick shrugged. “Sure.”
“Really? You’re sure?” Silverton pressed, tone hard.
Mick shrugged. “Yeah. One of the docs mentioned how weird it was for him to be a piece of mangled meat, but have one clean hand. Impressive, really. Most killers don’t pay attention to the details. The details are what always get you.”
“Mm,” Silverton said, taking my arm. “Thank you for your time. Delphi, we should get home. You’re tired and still need to write up your article for the evening paper.” He nodded at Mick and ushered me out rather briskly.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, very aware by his eyes that his thoughts were turned inwardly.
He gave me a brief smile. “How much more interesting my life has gotten since you moved into my pool house. We’d better pick up some kitten food on the way home.”
And that’s all I was going to get out of him. Elves. So annoying.
ChapterTen
First thing first, I had to write up my article on the astonishing living art display, making sure to keep my artists untangled from the florists, since there were multiple artists in each, and most of those had Elven blood so their work would last much longer than a human, as they compelled the plants to life.
My father would make fun of elves who spent their time like that instead of actually working land, improving soil, growing a beautiful sustainable food forest instead of playing with flowers for the entertainment of the bored and wealthy. Those with power should use it responsibly. I, personally, didn’t feel that strongly about what other people did with their lives.
I sat at the breakfast nook, my glasses on my nose with Lynx on my lap, while Mossy ate eggs. She ate so many eggs. I stole a few from her to feed my beautiful soft kitty every few minutes. Finally, I finished my article and nodded at her. “Check it for typos, please. And why are you still here?”
“I left and came back. What’s it like to be a werewolf? Are you really dating the senator? Why don’t you eat more raw meat? What are you going to do about Loren? Why does the kitten like you?”
I nodded at my screen and she sighed and plopped down in front of it while I read over her shoulder. When she was done, I hit send and closed it.
“Have you ever heard of girl scout cookies?” I asked her.
“Girl what?”
“I have a lot of cookies in the freezer. We could put them in some cute boxes I happen to see in the pantry, and then you can sell them door to door.”
She squinted at me. “Did you lose your mind?”
I sighed heavily. “The cat. Neighbors would notice an adorable kitten, particularly kids and old cranky types who hate animals messing up their flowers. You’d ask about the cat while you sell cookies.”
She gave me a skeptical look. “You think a goblin teen would blend in that neighborhood?”
“I’d give you a glamour.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Really? You know how to do glamours?”
“I have a few short-term glamours I have leftover from my last masquerade ball that will make you a cute fairy girl.”
She wrinkled her nose. “A fairy? I hate fairies.”
“You’d rather be an angel?”
