Page 54 of Mystic Justice
The vampyrs had strict population controls in place. They were only allowed to turn a Common realmer into a vampyr in a very limited set of circumstances that had been imposed by the Symposium and were enforced by the Connection. Some of the vampyrs didn’t like the limits on their numbers.
‘Someone acting out?’ I queried. ‘Someone being vocal about population measures?’
Volderiss shook his head. ‘We’ve had those measures in place for eighty years. If someone is still unhappy about them, they’ve long since stopped bitching aloud about it.’
I eyed Gideon. ‘Someone trying to fit in with some evil witches?’
He held up his hands. ‘Whoa, come on. So far, I’m just their rare ingredients guy. I have dryads on my staff and we grow some illegal plants in the back for them. That’s it.’
I blinked. ‘Did Moss do that for you?’
‘Yeah, she was great with the plants. She was always singing while she was working and she had a voice like an angel.’ Regret danced across his face. ‘She was going somewhere with those pipes.’ He sighed. ‘I kept putting her off singing in the bar because I knew that once people heard her, she’d be out of here and I didn’t want her to go. I didn’t want the hassle of recruiting another dryad. I’ll regret that for a very long time.’
‘Were you having sex with her?’ I asked.
‘Moss?’ He seemed startled by the question. ‘No, she wasn’t interested. She made that clear in the job interview.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘She said she’d grow illegal shit for me, but if I so much as looked at her neck she’d strangle me with a Virginia creeper vine.’
That was the first time I’d heard about that side of Moss; everyone had told me how nice she was, but nobody had mentioned her backbone. It helped me see her a little more clearly. Her family and friends had been right: with that combination of beauty, skill and strength, she might have well been the next pop sensation. She could have made it all the way.
I pushed down the quiet regret and focused on tracking down her killers. The fact that she’d grown illegal plants could be significant and I needed to dig into it. ‘Where do you grow the illegals?’
‘In the back room.’
‘Is there any CCTV in there?’
Gideon snorted. ‘Obviously not.’
‘Is there an exit from the room onto the back streets?’
‘Absolutely. We load the vans directly from the room.’
‘Right. So was there any CCTV covering that exit?’
He grimaced. ‘No. Again, for obvious reasons.’
‘There’s street access from the back room?’ I pressed. Not just a loading bay but street access.
‘Yes.’
Oh hell. McCaffrey was reviewing the CCTV footage for something she wasn’t going to see. Moss had worked in the hidden back room where the street exit had been deliberately excluded from the careful surveillance that existed elsewhere. I’d have bet my last pay check that Moss had been taken from there, from the one black spot that we hadn’t known existed.
‘I didn’t see a back room when I searched the premises,’ I said tightly.
‘You wouldn’t,’ Gideon admitted. ‘It’s hidden by a wall of illusion.’
‘Of course it is,’ I muttered, manfully pushing down the swear words that wanted to erupt. ‘You’ll show me to it after this,’ I said firmly. Gideon nodded. ‘Any idea who would hurt Moss?’
‘Someone jealous. As I said, she was going places.’
I thought of Sandra: she was jealous all right, but she’d got an alibi, as had Moss’s bestie, Lena. I was missing something, some vital piece of the puzzle, and it itched at the back of my mind because I was sure it related to something I already knew.
‘No more imp tails,’ I said to Gideon and flicked my eyes to Volderiss to include him in the command.
‘He has to,’ Volderiss said firmly. ‘He needs them to buy his way in. This operation is above your paygrade, Wise.’
‘I try to put the buyers off by telling them there’s too much heat on me,’ Gideon admitted. ‘This whole mess will help me deter them a while longer, but I can’t put them off forever. I can’t look like I’m reluctant to do it. I’ve just delivered one tail,so we’ve got some breathing room. Maybe we’ll lock things down before I need another.’
‘Unlikely,’ Voltaire grunted.
