“What do I tell the Chief about why you’re letting us into your precious faerie land?” he asked. Oh, yeah, he was definitely a better cop than politician.
“Explain that whoever did this has diplomatic immunity, but we are allowing this investigation to happen out of our mutual desire for cooperation and justice.”
“You want the bastard who did it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“You probably don’t remember me—I was just another uniform keeping the crowd back—but I saw you the day your father died. They gave you his sword.”
If I’d had any doubts that I’d called the right person, that one sentence took them away. Out loud I said, “Yes, yes, they did.”
“Catching this bad guy won’t catch your father’s killer.”
“That is a very insightful remark for a man I’ve only met twice.”
“Well, I’ve been the uniform on faerie duty off and on.”
“My mistake, but it was still insightful, uncomfortably so.”
“Sorry. Sometime after we’ve caught this guy, and if faerie princesses have drinks with lowly police majors, I’ll tell you why I became a cop.”
It was my turn to be insightful. “You lost someone, and they didn’t catch the bastard who did it.”
“You knew that already.” He sounded accusatory.
“No, I swear I didn’t.”
“Then that was a hell of a guess.”
“Let’s just say that those of us who bear a particular wound recognize it in others.”
He made a humph sound, then sort of growled, “Yeah, I guess we do. What will you be doing while I make phone calls and get everyone out there?”
“I’ll be questioning witnesses.”
“You know, it’d be nice if I were there for the questioning.”
“Most of the fey who may have witnessed anything are ones who almost never travel outside of faerie. They’re a little shy around humans, especially humans in uniforms. They all remember the last great human-fey war.”
“That was almost four hundred years ago,” he said.
“I’m aware of that.”
“I’ll never get used to it.”
“What?”
“How you guys look so young, but you remember this country before my great—great—great-grandfather took a boat here.”
“Not me, Major. I’m just a poor mortal girl.”
“Poor my ass,” he said.
“I’ll let you know if we learn anything that’s useful from the witnesses.”
“I’d like to decide what’s useful and what’s not.”
“Then hurry up, Major, but I do not promise that any fey will talk to you. I can’t even promise that you’ll be in the room when I question everyone. Some of them will simply not talk to the human police.”
“Then why am I coming?”
“So that when the press follow us around we can stand shoulder to shoulder and show that you are helping solve this case. And bring the officer who shot at me with you.”
“Why in the name of God?”
“Because his career is ruined unless he gets a chance at this, too.”
“Won’t he be a danger to you?”
“We’ll give him a charm to help bolster his psychic shields. If I think he’s too fragile for the duty, I’ll let you know and we’ll escort him out.”
“Why do you care what happens to one young uniformed cop?”
“Because he could have gone his whole career and not ever had anything like this happen to him, if he’d only stayed away from the faeries. The least we can try and do is minimize the damage.”
“I’ll make calls now, but you puzzle me, Princess Meredith. You’re almost too nice to be true.” He hung up.
I put the phone back in its cradle. Too nice to be true. My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you’ve been mean to someone, they won’t believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until it’s time to stop being nice, then destroy them. I wondered if he’d taken his own advice that summer’s day, or if he’d hesitated because someone facing him had been his friend. I would have given a great deal to find the person in question, and ask him.
CHAPTER 6
THERE WAS ANOTHER PHONE CALL I WANTED TO MAKE. I LOOKED at Christine’s smiling, pleasant face, and said, “Can you wait outside for a moment, Christine?”
She blinked big blue eyes at me, but took a deep breath, stood up, rustled out her full skirts, and left without a word. I couldn’t tell if I’d offended her, but then she was always hard to read. That she could smile and smile through everything the queen did in front of her always made me wonder about her. Did she enjoy the queen’s little shows, or did she not know what else to do?
With Christine gone I was left with Doyle, Barinthus, and Usna. Frost, Galen, Hawthorne, and Adair were at the door to make sure we weren’t interrupted. Besides, the office just wasn’t large enough for all of us. Not comfortably anyway. I trusted everyone but Usna. I didn’t know him well enough to trust him.
“Usna, wait out in the hall,” I said.
He gave me a little smile, but he didn’t argue. He just hesitated by the door. “Do you want me to send someone else to take my place?”
I thought about it, and said, “Galen.”
He gave a little bow, then opened the door and told Galen to come in. Galen looked a question at me as he closed the door behind him.
“I’m going to call Gillett.”
Galen was shaking his head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Who is Gillett?” Barinthus asked.
“He was one of the federal agents who investigated Prince Essus’s murder,” Doyle said.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised that you remember that, but I am,” I said.
Doyle looked at me, and his face was unreadable, dark and closed to me. “Gillett was the most persistent of all the human investigators.”
I nodded. “Yes, he was.”
“You’ve been in touch with him?” Doyle asked.
“More like he kept in touch with me, Doyle. I was seventeen, and he seemed to be the only one who wanted to solve my father’s murder more than he wanted to obey the queen or his superiors.”
Doyle took in a lot of air, and let it out slow. “And Galen knew of this?”
“Yes,” Galen said.
“And it never occurred to you to tell your captain that the princess was keeping in touch with a federal officer?”
“It made Merry feel better, and just after Essus died, I’d have done anything to help her feel better.”
“And after that?” Doyle asked.
“They exchanged cards twice a year, that was all.”
Doyle turned his dark gaze to me. I shrugged, then wished I hadn’t because it hurt. “He sent me a card every year around the anniversary of my father’s death. I sent him a Yule card.”
“How did no one notice this?” Doyle asked.
“The queen didn’t care enough about me to pay attention, and you paid attention where the queen told you to. You all did.”
He rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger. “How badly does your arm hurt?”
“It aches.”
He took in air again, then let it out slow. “You need to rest, Princess.”
“You’re not mad at me or Galen,” I said. “You’re angry with yourself for not knowing this.”
“Yes,” he said with the tiniest edge of anger.
“When my father died, what other guard could I have trusted but Galen?”
“Did you not trust me?” Barinthus said.
I looked at him, my father’s closest friend. “You were almost as distraught over his death as I was, Barinthus. I needed someone who was touched by grief but not consumed by it. Galen was that person for me.” I reached out to Galen, and he took my hand, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“If you could marry where your heart lies,” Doyle said, “I fear what it would do to the court.”
I looked at him, trying to see behind his careful face. I squeezed Galen’s hand and drew him in against me. Once, Doyle would have been correct. Once it was Galen in my heart and no other, but that was before I grew up enough to understand what it would mean to be at my side. It was a dangerous place to be, a treacherous place to be.