“Most definitely,” I muttered.
Mallory and Lorelei stared at me. So did Owen.
“You and Fletcher?” he asked in a soft voice.
“Yeah.”
Nobody said anything, but Owen reached across the counter and squeezed my hand in a silent show of support.
Silvio cleared his throat. “I was just looking into Ms. Eaton, but my information is preliminary at best. Do you happen to know when or where this photo might have been taken?”
He directed his question at Mallory, who picked up the photo so she could get a closer look at it. After several seconds, she set it back down on the counter again.
“I can’t tell when, but this looks like it was taken at the Eaton Estate. See all those fancy little letter Es carved into the fireplace?” She tapped her finger on that part of the photo. “From what I remember, the main library at the estate has a fireplace that looks like this one.”
I peered at the photo. Despite how carefully I’d studied it last night, I hadn’t noticed the letters before, but now that Mallory was pointing them out, I could see that several small Es were carved into the marble right above the fireplace mantel. She was right. This photo had most likely been taken at the estate.
“What about Amelia Eaton?” I asked. “Do you know anything about her?”
Mallory’s blue gaze grew dark and distant as she thought back. “Not much. Like I said, I haven’t thought about her in years. To me, she was just another snooty socialite from an old-money Ashland family. Of course, there were all those nasty rumors floating around about her actually eating people instead of just drinking their blood like regular vampires do. But the rumors always seemed to die down after Amelia made a few generous charity donations.”
“I’m guessing those weren’t just rumors,” Owen said. “Not if Gin and Fletcher were involved.”
The image of Amelia looming over me, her fangs glinting like knives in her mouth as she plotted the best way to fillet me, filled my mind. I like my dinner warm. Her voice echoed in my ears.
My fingers clenched into fists, and I had to shake my head to clear away the memories. “Unfortunately not.”
“Well, other than that, I don’t remember anything about her,” Mallory said. “I’m sorry, Gin.”
I shrugged. “It’s not your fault.”
We all fell silent again, each of us staring at the photo and trying to figure out what it meant—if it meant anything at all. Amelia Eaton was as dead as dead could be, so there was no way she had sent those two muggers after Mosley. But Mosley having the auction at the Eaton Estate made all sorts of little warning bells chime in my mind.
Mallory noticed my tense expression. “You’re really worried about Stuart, aren’t you?”
I let out a breath. “Yeah. Fletcher knew that Amelia was dead, so he kept this photo for some other reason. I want to know what it is.”
“Does that mean you’ll look into this for me? Find out who went after my Stuart and why?”
Her voice took on a soft, almost pleading note, especially when she said my Stuart. Lorelei might have jokingly called them old friends with benefits, but it was obvious that Mallory cared very deeply about Mosley. I couldn’t say no to her, just like I couldn’t say no to anyone who asked for my help.
“I’ll do you one better,” I said. “I’ll go to the auction tonight and keep an eye on things. Just in case someone is up to no good. How’s that?”
Gratitude shimmered in Mallory’s blue gaze, and she held her arms out to me. I leaned across the counter and hugged her.
“Thank you, Gin,” she whispered in my ear. “This means the world to me.”
“No thanks necessary. It’s what I do, remember?” I murmured back to her.
Mallory hugged me even tighter, making me wince. Like Mosley, she was still quite strong, despite her advanced years, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling the dwarf that her gratitude was slowly cracking my ribs.
Finally, Mallory drew back. She cleared her throat and blinked her eyes, as though holding back tears. Lorelei noticed her grandmother’s emotion, and she started chattering on about how good lunch had been, trying to distract the older woman. Lorelei kept up a steady stream of conversation as she and Mallory slid off their stools, paid for their meals, and shrugged into their coats.
We all made promises to meet up and keep an eye on Mosley at the auction. Now that we were going out later, Owen had to get back to work and wrap up a few things. So he kissed me good-bye, grabbed his own coat, and left the restaurant with Mallory and Lorelei. That left me alone at the counter with Silvio.
My assistant waited until the three of them had disappeared out of sight of the storefront windows before turning around on his stool and facing me. “There you go again, throwing yourself headlong into possible danger just because someone asks you to.”
I sighed. “I know. But Mallory and Lorelei are my friends. So is Mosley, and I’m not going to let anyone hurt them.”
Silvio’s gray gaze softened. “I know. And I’m going to do everything I can to help you keep Mosley safe. And yourself too.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded and picked up his tablet to get back to work, while I returned to my cooking.
By this point, the whisk had sunk below the surface of the creamy coleslaw dressing all the way down to the very bottom of the bowl.
I couldn’t help but think it was an omen of things to come—and that I was like the whisk, slowly drowning in a mayonnaise sea of trouble.
Chapter Nine
The afternoon passed quietly at the restaurant, and Sophia and Catalina took over for me around five o’clock so I could go home, shower, and get dressed for the auction. Once I was ready, I drove over to Owen’s mansion.
I found him in the downstairs living room, standing still while Eva, his younger sister, skillfully twisted his black tie into the perfect bow. I leaned against the doorway and watched them.
Owen looked gorgeous in his classic black tuxedo, but Eva was dressed for a night at home in a blue Ashland Community College sweatshirt, sweatpants, and thick socks. Her black hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her blue gaze was fixed on Owen’s bow tie.
“I don’t know why you can’t do this yourself,” she said. “I’ve shown you how to do it a dozen times now. It’s the easiest thing ever.”
“Maybe for you,” Owen said. “Besides, maybe I just like having you do it for me.”
“Making your baby sister into your fashion slave?” Eva rolled her eyes at his teasing. “Whatever, bro.”
“Looks like you guys started the party without me,” I called out.
Eva finished with Owen’s bow tie, and they both looked at me. Owen let out a low wolf whistle of appreciation, while Eva clapped her hands.
“You look amazing, Gin!” she squealed.
I smoothed down my dress, which Finn had insisted that I buy when he’d dragged me out shopping to the Posh boutique a few weeks ago. The dress was a beautiful royal-blue crushed velvet and featured a sweetheart neckline that plunged down, highlighting what cleavage I had, while cap sleeves made of sheer black fabric covered my shoulders. The tiny black crystals on the sleeves were arranged to look like small webs, while a larger spiderlike pattern marked the center of the bodice, making me look like, well, the spider in the center of her own web. My silverstone spider rune pendant hung around my neck to further emphasize who and what I was, while my spider rune ring glinted on my finger like usual.
My dark brown hair hung loose and simple around my shoulders, although I’d gone dramatic with my makeup. Dark, smoky shadow and liner covered my eyes, while deep plum lipstick completed my diva look.
I fiddled with one of my sleeves, then the other, straightening them both the tiniest bit. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
Eva grinned. “Absolutely not.”
She made Owen stand next to me so she could take pictures of us with her phone, like we were two kids about to go to t
he prom.
Owen leaned over and murmured in my ear. “You look so good in that dress that I’m tempted to skip the auction and stay here.”
“And Mallory would kill us both if I didn’t keep my promise to watch out for Mosley.”
“Trust me, it would be worth it, and I would die a very happy man.”
I reached up and straightened his bow tie before sliding my hands down his muscled chest. “Well, the auction won’t last all night. We’ll talk more about your suggestion later. In much greater detail.”
His violet eyes warmed, and his lips curved up into a teasing, devilish grin that made my heart skip a beat. “I’ll take you up on that.”
I grinned back at him. “I’m counting on it.”
“Ewww!” Eva crinkled her nose. “You guys realize that I can totally hear you making your sexy-time plans, right? Now, quit lusting after each other and look this way again.”
Owen and I laughed and turned back to the camera.
* * *
Eva finished taking photos, then went into the kitchen to put out some snacks for her study date with Violet Fox, her best friend, along with Catalina Vasquez and Elissa Daniels. Owen and I got into his car and headed over to the Eaton Estate.
Owen drove past the Ashland Botanical Gardens, then steered his car through the estate’s open main gate and up a long, steep driveway. We crested the top of the hill, and a giant wearing a green suit jacket pointed us toward a parking area that was already bristling with cars.
Owen handed his keys off to a valet, then came over, opened my door, and helped me out of the car. He offered me his arm, and the two of us fell in step with the people streaming out of the lot and walking along a winding path. The trees fell away, and the Eaton mansion loomed up before us.
It looked exactly the same as I remembered it, five stories of gray granite dotted with windows and balconies and topped with steep, sloping roofs. This wasn’t the first time I had returned to the scene of one of my many crimes, but for some reason, the sight of the mansion made me uneasy. Maybe because I hadn’t been able to identify the threat to Mosley yet—or figure out how it was possibly connected to the woman I’d killed all those years ago.
At the far end of the path, several giant guards were stationed around a white trellis covered with twinkle lights, directing people into the auction. Owen handed our invitation to one of the guards, who checked it and waved us on through.
We walked through the trellis entrance and stepped onto the gray stone terrace that stretched out from the back of the mansion. At first glance, it seemed like your typical Ashland society shindig. People, lights, music, food. But the longer I looked around, the more uneasy I became. My arm slipped out of Owen’s, and I moved forward, my gaze darting from one thing to the next. It took me a few seconds, but I finally realized why I felt so uncomfortable.
The terrace was decorated exactly the same way it had been the night I’d killed Amelia Eaton.
Tables covered with emerald-green linens. An impressive buffet. Towers of champagne glasses. White twinkle lights everywhere. A dance floor. A string quartet. It was a common party setup and one that I’d seen dozens of times before. But everything was exactly the same, right down to the waiters with their emerald-green bow ties and tuxedo vests and the classical music that trilled through the air.
I blinked and blinked, but my vision remained sharp and clear, and nothing changed. It was like I’d stepped back in time—or was still trapped in my nightmarish memory. I almost expected to see Amelia holding court in the center of the terrace like she had back then. My gaze even snapped over to the spot where I’d first seen her, but of course she wasn’t there.
Dead—Amelia Eaton was dead. I knew this with absolute certainty. But I couldn’t shake this intense feeling of déjà vu, and I kept scanning the area, still searching for her.
“Gin?” Owen asked. “Is something wrong? You have a really weird look on your face.”
“Just a bad memory.” I shook my head and took his arm again. “C’mon. Let’s find Finn and Mosley.”
We moved across the crowded terrace, and I finally noticed some differences between back then and right now. Instead of a hot summer night, this was a cold winter’s eve, and space heaters lined the area, blasting out some much-needed warmth. The charity auction was also a far more formal affair than Amelia’s cocktail party had been, and the men wore tuxedos, while the women sported evening gowns and sequined wraps, although the flimsy fabrics provided little protection against the chilly breeze.
The feel of that cold wind and the glitter of the gowns, as well as the solid, comforting strength of Owen’s arm linked through my own, slowly helped me relax. I almost chalked up the decorations to coincidence.
Until I noticed the white roses.
They were everywhere—perched in the vases on the tables, wound through the towers of champagne glasses, even twined through the white lights that had been strung up along the stone wall at the back of the terrace. White rose petals had also been scattered over the wooden dance floor, and they gusted up into the air like fragrant flakes of snow. I caught one of the petals in my fingertips and brought it up to my nose. Even the overpowering, sickeningly sweet stench was the same, with that same hint of foul rot lurking underneath.
Another wave of déjà vu washed over me, even stronger than before, and my earlier worry bubbled right back up again. I rubbed the silky petal between my fingers, thinking about all the calls Mosley had gotten about the flowers last night. Whomever he’d been talking with had thought that the roses were extremely important, and my paranoid self couldn’t help but think that person had wanted the flowers to further recreate Amelia’s final party. But who? And why? What was the point of all this?
“Gin?” Owen asked again. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just wondering who ordered the roses.”
He gave me a strange look, clearly not understanding what I was talking about, but I didn’t feel like explaining, so I flicked the rose petal away, and we walked on.
Many of the partygoers were standing along the stone wall, and Owen and I went over there to see what had attracted everyone’s attention.
The lake was frozen.
A solid sheet of elemental Ice covered the man-made lake in the shallow valley below, and it gleamed like a silver mirror that had been laid over the water. Several men and women in brightly colored sequined costumes skated on the Ice, doing elaborate spins, twirls, and jumps, much to the delight of the oohing and aahing crowd. Several Ice elementals wearing green bow ties and tuxedo vests stood on a wooden platform down by the lakeshore, their eyes glowing as they concentrated their magic on the water, keeping it frozen solid for the skaters.
“No wonder Mosley was complaining about the auction budget getting out of control,” I said. “Hiring those Ice elementals to keep the lake frozen would have cost a fortune all by itself, not to mention paying the skaters to perform.”
“But can you really put a price on such a grand spectacle?” Owen asked.
I snorted. “That sounds like something Finn would say.”
“Yep,” he agreed. “And it’s probably the exact justification that whoever planned the auction used to waste all this money.”
Owen and I turned away from the ice-skating spectacle and looked back over the terrace again. I finally spotted Finn waving at us, and we walked over to him and Bria.
Every man here had on a black tuxedo, but Finn wore his better than most, and his walnut-brown hair gleamed under the lights. Bria looked absolutely stunning in a tight silver-sequined gown with long sleeves. Her blond hair was sleeked back into a high bun, and her simple, understated makeup brought out her blue eyes.
More than one person gave her an admiring glance, although Finn possessively cupped her elbow, shooting drop-dead-she’s-mine looks at any man who even thought about approaching and trying to steal her away from him.
“Finally,” Finn said. “I thought you two were never going to get here. N
ow I can take a break and let someone else worry about assassins lurking around every corner.”
He grabbed two champagne flutes from a passing waiter, then bowed low to Bria before presenting her with one of the glasses. Finn winked at my sister and clinked his flute against hers. “As well as focus on my lady love.”
Bria arched her eyebrows, but she stood on her tiptoes and whispered something into his ear. Finn blinked rapidly, as if he was having trouble processing her words, but the wide smile that creased his face told me what Bria had suggested to him. Sexy times, as Eva had so succinctly described them earlier.
“And where is the man of the hour?” I asked.
Finn gestured with his glass. Stuart Mosley was standing a few feet away with Mallory and Lorelei Parker. Mosley was also wearing a tuxedo, while Mallory looked elegant in a pale blue gown, and Lorelei was the epitome of glamour in a slinky black-sequined dress.
Mosley had his arm threaded through Mallory’s, and it was easy to tell from their adoring glances at each other that they were far more than just old friends with benefits. They made a lovely couple, and I wasn’t going to let anyone ruin their happiness tonight.
I turned back to Finn. “I thought you were going to stick to Mosley like glue. Not let him wander around by himself.”
“He’s not by himself. Mallory and Lorelei are with him.”
I gave him a look.
Finn rolled his eyes. “Oh, relax, Gin.” He gestured around with his glass again. “See the giant guards roaming around? They all work at the bank, which means they’re all Mosley’s men. Trust me. He’s perfectly safe here.”
He was right. More than two dozen giant guards wearing tuxedos were patrolling the terrace, ready to deal with drunken debutantes, boisterous businessmen, and any other potential dangers. Maybe it was how weirdly similar everything was to the night I’d killed Amelia, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong here.
I looked at Bria. “Anything new on Vera and Eddie Jones? Did either one of them have any underworld connections?”