“Actually,” I said, “now that I think about it, I could probably use a little reflection, myself.” I patted my lips and threw my napkin on the table. “I’ll be back in a second.”
At the top of the steps, I found a small altar with a statue of a laughing Buddha and lit candles. To my right, I clocked the door with the two guards. When I appeared, they looked up, hands going automatically to their hips.
I waved at them lamely and turned to the left toward a door with a discreet sign that read meditation. I’d only taken two steps in that direction when the door behind the guards flew open. A round of male laughter escaped the room. I froze and turned to watch.
Hung emerged first, followed by a man I didn’t recognize, but his power suit and bearing marked him as a power broker. He looked vaguely familiar, but I didn’t get a good-enough look at him before the guards stepped between us.
Before I knew it, John Volos came into the hall. When he saw me, he froze. “Kate?”
“Morales!” I hissed over my shoulder.
The guards, sensing trouble, stepped in front of the man I didn’t recognize.
Volos pushed one of them aside and came toward me. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hey, John,” I said, my tone overly bright. “Morales!”
The door to the meditation room opened and my partner emerged.
“Volos, what the hell is the meaning of this?” the man behind the guard said.
“Take him out the back way,” Volos tossed over his shoulder. “Now.”
Before I realized what was happening, the guards took off like two ninjas, spiriting the man away down the back hall.
I started to go after them, but Morales grabbed me. “Focus on Hung,” he said, his voice low but uncompromising.
“Step aside, Mr. Mayor,” he said. “We have some questions for Mr. Hung.”
Gardner’s warning not to engage unless we saw some actual illegal activity came back to haunt me. “Hold on,” I began, but Morales shot me a look that promised retribution if I didn’t have his back. I sighed and backed down.
Volos took advantage of my uncharacteristic silence. “Special Agent Morales, I already told your partner that Mr. Hung has an alibi for the night of Krystal LeMay’s murder.”
“Yes, and you also told her that you weren’t willing to put that in the official record. Unless you’ve changed your mind, we have no choice but to question him about the case.”
Hung still hadn’t said a word. He just stood there, looking unflappable and aloof. I watched him just in case he decided to run. His gaze met mine, and something in his eyes—a glint like the edge of a blade—sent a shiver of warning down my back.
“I warned you that if you didn’t back off, I’d have you pulled from this case,” Volos said.
“Yeah, you say lots of things,” Morales shot back, “like when you said Hung left town.”
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Volos said, ignoring Morales’s zinger.
Realizing he’d been addressing me, I pulled my gaze from Hung to look at Volos. “Who was that guy?”
He pulled himself up straighter. He almost looked relieved. “Our business here has no bearing on your case, Detective. Unless you’re willing to make a charge, I suggest you back down.”
“Better yet,” Hung cut in. Hearing his voice for the first time was a shock. I’d expected an accent, but he had the cultured diction of an Ivy Leaguer, smooth but with enough scorn to make you feel judged. “How about I call my lawyer and you can explain to him why you are harassing me.”
He reached for his pocket.
“Watch yourself,” I barked, pointing my gun at him.
His eyebrow quirked, as if I’d amused him. “Relax, Detective.” He pulled out a state-of-the art smartphone—at least five generations better than the one I had in my pocket. He touched a couple of buttons and put it to his ear. Then he turned his back on us, like we were of no consequence to him anymore.
Meanwhile, Volos had pulled his cell out, too. I figured he was lawyering up, as well, until I heard him speak into the mouthpiece. “Gardner, it’s Mayor Volos.”
“Fuck,” Morales whispered behind me.
“You want to explain to me why your top two agents are harassing me and my dinner guests?”
He winked at me as I seethed. Behind me, Morales radiated frustration bordering on rage.
“Yes, I’ll send them on home. I’m sure you understand that I must insist that a real murder detective be put on the case from now on?”
That dig had me clenching my fists until my nails scored half-moons into my palms.
“Yes, that’s fine.” Volos held up his phone. “She’d like to speak to you.”
Morales moved forward like a man walking to the gas chamber. He held the phone to his ear. He didn’t say anything, but I could hear the high, tinny tones of Gardner’s shrieks in the otherwise silent hallway.
Finally, he said, “I understand, sir.”
He clicked a button and handed the phone back to Volos with exaggerated care.
“Now,” John said, “Mr. Hung will make an official statement but only at the Cauldron Precinct and only to Detective Duffy. If either of you interfere in this investigation from this moment on, you will find yourselves unemployed. Am I clear?”
Morales’s jaw twitched. I stared so hard at Volos, I was surprised lasers didn’t shoot out of my eyes.
“That’s all,” he said in a cheerful tone.
Summarily dismissed, we both trudged down the steps. At the bottom of the stairs, Bodhi was waiting for us. I was closest, so he handed the check to me. “Please never come back.”
I opened the bill to see that the going price for enlightenment was three hundred bucks.
“Oh, and namaste.” Somehow, he managed to make the word sound a lot like fuck you.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When we got back to the gym, Gardner loomed at the top of the steps with her arms crossed. She looked like a parent who’d stayed up waiting past curfew. Except we weren’t teenagers and our punishment would likely be a lot more painful than losing the car for a week.
“Office.” She spat the word and turned on her heel before we even reached the top step.
Morales and I climbed the remaining steps in silence, ignored the pitying looks the rest of the team was shooting us, and made a beeline for Gardner’s office.
She slammed the door behind us, but as she came around the desk, her movements had that slow, deliberate quality of a person trying to rein in their temper. She didn’t sit down to address us. She just paced back and forth behind the desk.
“I just got off the phone with Eldritch. Apparently, Mayor Volos and Mr. Hung showed up to his precinct looking to file an official complaint against the two of you. In addition, Mr. Hung asked to make a statement to Duffy about his whereabouts on the night of Krystal LeMay’s murder.”
“Sir, LeMay was poisoned by tea delivered via a courier,” I said. “Hung didn’t have to be there—”
She slashed a hand through the air and kept pacing. I hunkered down in my seat and ignored the warning side-eye Morales shot me.
“Now, I was fairly certain when we talked earlier that I gave you a direct order not to approach the mayor or Mr. Hung unless you witnessed anything illegal. Is that correct?”
Neither of us dared speak, so we just nodded.
“I thought so,” she said, “and based on the report I got from Mr. Volos, you interrupted a business meeting.”
I raised my hand.
“Not now, Prospero.”
“But sir, that’s not what—”
“It doesn’t matter what actually happened. Don’t you get it? When it comes down to our word versus the mayor’s, who do you think Eldritch is going to believe? Who do you think my bosses are going to believe if those official statements are sent to them?” She stopped herself and sucked in a deep breath. “How did you even know they were meeting?”
I hesitated because everything I’d said so far ended up pissing her off. Instead, Morales fielded the question. “Detective Prospero has a CI at City Hall who informed us of the meeting.”
Her eyes widened. “What CI at City Hall? I never approved paperwork for that.”
“He’s sort of an unofficial informant, sir,” I said. “I’ve been paying him out of my own pocket.”
“Who is he?”
I shrugged. “Just a guy.”