“Trina isn’t well,” Vaughn said. “She had some kind of dizzy spell. I was going to take her to the doctor. Then we discovered the vandalism . . .”
“Where was she when she had this dizzy spell?” Ilya was using his scary mild voice.
A woman walked into the hallway and said, “She had picked the lock on Ms. DeVine’s office, but she couldn’t go through the files or take anything because I was there.” She smiled at me.
She wasn’t beautiful—at least by current standards—but her face was arresting and she looked great in the sharply tailored black business suit. And with the long black hair, dark eyes, and olive-toned skin, she was definitely Sanguinati.
“What was she doing in there?” Vaughn demanded. “And how did my wife end up having a dizzy spell just by being in that room? Is this place contaminated with mold or something else perilous to human health?”
Definitely something else. Was Vaughn the only one who hadn’t figured that out? Sanguinati plus intruder equals lunch.
“I’m the CPA,” she said, managing to imply in those three words that she had been in my office because she was my CPA.
Since I hadn’t seen her before, I hoped no one asked me to introduce her.
“Ms. DeVine,” she said, “since you weren’t involved in this incident, perhaps I could have a few minutes now to review the accounts?”
Grimshaw immediately focused on her. “I might have some questions, Ms. . . . ?”
“Natasha Sanguinati.”
They all looked at Natasha. They all looked at Ilya. At least some of my guests were beginning to figure things out—or not. Or maybe they counted on nothing happening to them while Grimshaw was there upholding the law.
I wasn’t sure how much law he could uphold, but his presence seemed like the assurance they all needed to continue to yap at the Sanguinati.
The lightest touch of Ilya’s hand on my back. Clearly he wanted me away from the rest of the humans, so I followed Natasha to my office—and saw the sharp way Julian stared at her for a moment before relaxing just enough to be noticeable.
Natasha held the office door for me, then closed it behind me, isolating us from whatever was going on in the hall.
“I hadn’t intended to be in your office without your consent,” Natasha said. “But when the Crowgard reported that the humans were acting sneaky and scratching at the doors to places where they didn’t belong, a couple of us came over to investigate. I was sitting at your desk, writing a note to you—I like the stationery you created for The Jumble—when that Trina female scratched at the door until it opened. She wanted me to leave, insisted that you had asked her to find a couple of legal papers. She was offended that I didn’t believe her.”
Natasha seemed quite amused by that.
“So you bit her?”
“Oh no. A bite can be so intimate, don’t you think?”
Considering some of the fantasies I’d had about Ilya, apparently I did think biting and intimacy could go together.
“Besides, there are other ways to feed,” Natasha added.
I was not going to think about that because thinking about it made me feel like a walking juice bar.
Raised voices, muffled by the closed door, were silenced by the sound of something large and metallic being dropped. I didn’t know much about cars, even when they weren’t being dropped, but I guessed it had sounded like that because the tires were now flat.
“How many Elders does it take to flip a car?” I asked.
She gave me a puzzled smile. “Is that a human joke?”
Not likely. “Maybe.”
“While we’re waiting for the police officer to ask his questions, why don’t we review your accounts?”
I figured she already knew I couldn’t afford what she usually charged any more than I could afford my attorney, so I told her that was a nifty idea and began counting the hours until I could shove my first guests out the door.
CHAPTER 49
Grimshaw
Moonsday, Sumor 3
As far as Grimshaw was concerned, situations like this were exactly the reason why cops hated coming to places like Sproing or The Jumble unless it was to help a stranded motorist or look for a missing child. The Others in the wild country usually left you alone if you were helping a motorist, and they sometimes assisted in the search if they understood you were looking for a lost child. But when humans ran afoul of the terra indigene? Nothing a cop could do except try to extract the humans without antagonizing the Others.
Well, he could shoot the humans. He was pretty sure the Others wouldn’t object to that. Explaining that to Captain Hargreaves or a board of inquiry might be tricky—assuming the bodies didn’t just disappear before he had time to file his report.
Which made him wonder why the body of Franklin Cartwright had been left in a place where it would be found and hadn’t shown much sign of predation. Had the man been left as a warning about the penalties of trespassing in The Jumble, or was it a case of the smaller terra indigene not daring to grab anything from a kill made by an Elder?
Or most anything, he amended, remembering the call Vicki DeVine had made about the eyeball that had started the initial inquiry.
Hershel, a large gray-haired man who was older than the other two men, arrived at the main house and was as vocal as Vaughn and Darren about their treatment here and the damage to their vehicles. Grimshaw figured Hershel really had been in his cabin resting, or at least doing nothing that upset the Others, since his UV was the only one that hadn’t been damaged or vandalized.
“Let’s go into the library and see if we can work this out,” he said. He didn’t see the point of standing in the hall, and he wanted to get a look at Trina. She might need a doctor. Then again, she might need nothing more than a glass of juice and rest to make up for the blood donation she’d made as a penalty for picking a lock on a door that was clearly marked PRIVATE.
They just argued more loudly until the crash of something large and metallic.
“I’ll go,” Julian said. He hurried out, then hurried back in. “The overturned UV has been righted. The tires are flat, and there is some other damage—mostly dents and scratches.”
Vaughn ran out to take a look. They heard a shocked sound, almost a scream, before he ran back in.
“Someone is going to pay for that,” he shouted.
“You will,” Ilya said. “And for the tow truck unless it is your intention to abandon the vehicle.”
Vaughn’s eyes were filled with fury and hatred, and Grimshaw wondered if the man had been a member of the Humans First and Last movement before most of the humans who had joined the HFL were killed by the Elders and Elementals. Anyone left had survived by hiding their affiliation. But if Vaughn was one of the investors in this luxury resort nonsense, that would be sufficient reason to hate the Sanguinati’s interference.