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Walters would be needing to recoup. He’d need to redeem himself in the public eye. Though my guards and I knew that he’d had no chance to prevent what had happened, the humans wouldn’t accept it. The major had been in charge. He’d take the fall. It was simply how they thought.

Christine, my aunt’s secretary, was petite, well-endowed, and more plump than was the fashion. In her day she’d been perfect. Her blond hair curled over her shoulders, and her youthful face was eternally beautiful. One of our noblemen had lured her away centuries ago, but he’d grown tired of her. To stay in faerie she needed to be useful, so she learned shorthand and computer skills. She was probably one of the most technologically savvy people in either court.

She suggested that we call the Bureau of Human and Fey Affairs. Logical, I suppose, but they were more useful for social difficulties or diplomatic problems. If you want something done, don’t call a politician or a bureaucrat. Call a cop.

I took a deep breath, said a little prayer to the Goddess, and dialed the number the secretary had given me.

He answered on the second ring. “Your Highness,” he said.

He must have had caller I.D. “Not exactly,” I said. “Princess Meredith, actually.”

His first words had been professional, his next held the hint of suspicion. “Princess, to what do I owe this honor.” In fact, he sounded positively hostile.

“You sound angry at me, Major Walters.”

“The newspapers say you don’t trust my men to keep you safe. That human cops aren’t good enough for your guard detail.”

I hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. He was more cop than politician. “I can only say that I never even hinted to the media that I doubted your men.”

“Then why were we barred from the second press conference?”

Hmm, that was a sticky wicket. “You and I both know that it was a spell that made your officer shoot at me, correct?”

“Yeah, our unit psychic found the magical remnants on him.”

“I’m safer here in the sithen, but your officers won’t be. Someone did a spell in a building of metal girders and beams, with technology all over the place. Put that same spell caster inside the sithen, inside faerie, with no damper of metal and technology on them, and your officers would be in even greater danger of being bespelled.”

“What about the human reporters; aren’t they in danger of being bespelled?”

“They aren’t armed,” I said. “They can’t do that much damage.”

“So we just aren’t up to your standards, is that it?” He was angry, and I wasn’t sure why.

The queen’s secretary must have caught enough of the conversation to give me a hint. She flashed the headline of the St. Louis Post Dispatch: POLICE FAIL TO PROTECT THE PRINCESS. Oh.

“Major Walters, I’ve just been shown a newspaper. My apologies for not understanding the effect this situation was having on your life. I was a little too preoccupied with my own being in danger.”

“I don’t need your apologies, Princess. I need my men to be good enough to protect you at public events.”

“How much crap are you getting about what happened? Are they trying to scapegoat you?”

“That’s not your business,” he said, which was almost as good as a yes.

“I think we can help each other, Major.”

“How?”

“You sitting down?”

“Yeah,” and that one word was not happy.

I told him the briefest version I knew about the reporter and Beatrice, and that the queen had given it to me to clean up.

There was utter silence on the other end of the phone for so long that I finally said, “Major, you still there?”

“I’m here,” he said, in a hoarse voice.

“I’m sorry that being on faerie duty has just gotten so horribly complicated. I’m sorry that it is screwing with your plans.”

“What do you know about my plans?”

“I know you want to be chief of security at a certain place of business when you retire early next year. I know you took the job as liaison to us for your résumé. I know that letting me get shot at probably didn’t win you any points at your soon-to-be new job.”

“You know a damn lot for a princess.”

I let that go, not sure if it was compliment or insult. “But what if I show, plainly, that I have utter confidence in you, Major Walters?”

“What do you want from me?” The suspicion was thick enough to walk on.

“I want a Crime Scene Unit down here. I’ve got the crime scene itself isolated, but I need science, not magic, on this one.”

“Didn’t you just lecture me about my men being in danger from enchantments if we came into your place?”

“Yes, that’s why I want only you, the CSU, and maybe one or two others, tops. My guards can protect you individually from magic if you are a small enough group.”

“The entire department is being crucified in the press, especially the St. Louis press.”

“I know that now. Let’s show them that Princess Meredith and her guards don’t believe all that bad press. I do have confidence in you, Major Walters. You and a good forensic unit. How about it, Major? Do you want to play, or do I leave you out of this? I can pretend I didn’t call, and just start with the chief of police.”

“Why didn’t you start with him?” Walters asked.

“Because you’re my police liaison. I respect that title. You’re who I’m supposed to call. Besides, you’re almost more motivated than I am to solve this case.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Don’t be naïve, Major Walters. The department is taking heat. They’ll hang someone for it, and it will most likely be you. Let me show the department that you still have my trust and they’ll back off. They’ll be desperate to solve this second violent episode and have someone to punish. They’ll fall all over themselves to give you anything I ask for.”

“You seem to know how it works.”

“Politics is politics, Major, and I was raised in the thick of it.” I sat on the edge of the desk and tried to get my shoulder to loosen up. The injured muscles had tightened sometime during the interview with the queen. Funny that, but now my arm ached, and that wasn’t funny, at all. Of all the things I missed with being part human, not healing instantly was one of the biggest envies I had. “I need a cop, Major Walters, not a politician. I need someone who understands that my crime scene is aging even as we speak. That valuable evidence may be getting contaminated right this minute. I need someone who will worry more about solving this mess than the political ramifications of it. I think you’re that man, and now that your political star runs beside mine, you are doubly motivated.”

“What makes you so sure of that? What makes you think I won’t cut my losses and run for the hills?”

I thought about that, and said, “The look in your eyes yesterday at the airport when you were angry with having to share leadership with Barinthus. The fact that you showed anger to me now on the phone rather than trying to toadie to me. I wasn’t sure with a rank as high as major, but you’re more cop than politician, Walters. And if you knew how little I like politics, you’d know what a compliment that is.”

“You seem pretty good at politicking for someone who doesn’t like the game.”

“I’m good at a lot of things that I don’t enjoy, Major Walters. As I’m sure you are.”

Silence again. “If we don’t solve this, my ass is grass, and no amount of confidence shown in me, by you or anyone else, will save it.”

“And if we solve it…” I said.

He laughed, a deep chuckle. “Then I’ll be the department’s shining star, and the executives will be climbing over themselves to give me an even bigger salary. Yeah.”

“Are you my man, or do I pretend that I didn’t make this call?”

“I’m your man.”

I smiled. “Good. You start making calls, and get me some CSU out here as soon as possible.”