Black Hat, White Witch by Hailey Edwards

11

The Kellies had an update for us by the time we reached my room, our unofficial office during this trip. It turned out the missing girl who provoked such a violent reaction from her grieving father was fostered. I don’t mean it in the human sense. The girl was entrusted to Olsen to raise for a powerful family in exchange for a boon. Her birth parents likely had heirs to spare and worried she would be picked off by her elder siblings in a coup when it came time for the heir apparent to come into their inheritance.

That meant no adoption paperwork, no birth record, no school records.

And, as far as the Kellies could determine, no missing persons report. Of any kind. With any agency.

“It’s like she never existed,” I muttered at my screen. “Olsen did his job of hiding her too well.”

“He also lied about reporting her missing.” Asa tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Why bring it up when he knew we had the resources to prove he wasn’t telling us the truth?”

“Most folks wouldn’t hang around to fact-check a story in an enraged troll’s living room while he trashed the place.” Clay shrugged. “We sure didn’t. Maybe it was an act? Sell us a sob story then hit the bricks?”

“Perhaps,” Asa conceded, his expression thoughtful beneath his knotted mane of windblown hair.

“You don’t have to keep your hair like that.” I did my best not to laugh now that I had the full-on view of my handiwork. “We won’t think less of you if you go brush out the tangles.”

With only one hairband to spare, I had gathered his hair to my side of the car and plaited a single braid. I got most of it, thanks to its length, but a few flyaways had persisted. Those I shoved through loops in the braid to lock them down and keep them out of his eyes. That treatment, paired with high wind, whipped knots that would require a shower, intensive conditioner, and a comb to fix. Maybe a detangler too.

Did they even make detangler for adults?

Hmm.

Maybe that explained why his scent often carried an undertone of juicy green apples.

“I don’t mind.” He returned to his work then checked his phone. “They’re here to tow the SUV.”

“Do they need us for that?” I was busy ordering us a late lunch/early dinner online. “I can go down.”

“I tossed the keys on the front seat.” Clay kept pecking away. “They’ll text if there’s a problem.”

A chime on my phone had me searching through my pockets for it and frowning at the notification.

“Everything okay?” Clay glanced up then. “You don’t look happy.”

“It’s probably nothing.” I opened the security app to be sure. “There was movement near the house.”

Slowly, so as not to miss anything, I flipped through the various cameras.

“I don’t see anything.” I switched screens to check for missed calls. “The wards must be holding steady.”

“Colby would call if there was an issue.” Asa allowed himself a small grin. “She’s already proven that.”

“Yeah.” I forced myself to breathe. “You’re right.”

The day had been spent on travel, mostly our snail crawl back to the hotel, but it wasn’t full dark yet.

A knock on the door brought my head up, but Clay just smiled and said, “Why don’t you get that?”

One eyebrow quirking high, I answered the door to find the promised grocery delivery. A whole lot of it. Somewhere was a store without butter, sugar, flour, eggs, milk, or Clay-approved mix-ins. He also bought a muffin tin, a cookie sheet, and two cake pans with several bottles of nonstick spray.

As the nice young man loaded me down with bags, Clay scooched up behind me then nudged me aside.

Asa met me in the kitchenette, accepted the bags, and began putting away the cold items.

When he caught me staring, again, I was forced to play it off by whipping out my phone. “Smile!”

Caught off guard, Asa did not smile but raised his eyebrows in a questioning look that was now captured forever on my phone. His hair lent him a just rolled out of bed appearance while his expression threw off I haven’t had my coffee yet vibes.

Before he questioned my motives, I spun and snapped a quick pic of Clay loaded down with bags.

“I’m going to send Colby these pics of my two baking assistants.”

I did it too, to cover my butt, which wouldn’t have been an issue if Asa hadn’t looked so adorable.

Yep.

This was definitely his fault. Or his hair’s fault. One or the other. Both?

While I helped Clay put away his perishables, Asa returned to the table to resume his work.

There was really only room for one, but two could squish in there thanks to the open floorplan.

“We have preliminary results on the remains found at the processor.” Asa scrolled through the email. “They have been positively identified as the fourth missing girl.”

“Dammit.” A carton of eggs exploded in Clay’s fist. “What kind of sicko dreams up something like that?”

“We met a lady who bakes people cookies earlier,” I reminded him. “Black Hat exists for a reason.”

Look at me, spouting rhetoric I had been force-fed most of my life in the hopes I would one day believe it.

Asa studied me. “Do you think we’ll be paying the Malones a visit in the future?”

“If not us, then someone.” Of that I had no doubt. “Rose’s powers are on lockdown for a reason.”

“File a mental note,” Clay warned, “and then forget it.”

Black Hat had a zero tolerance for cowboying. Rogue agents got dead. It was how a lot of old-timers who wanted out but couldn’t quit made their grand exits. They chose their own targets, picked them off, then waited for the kill squad to arrive. That was the worst. No one wanted to terminate a contract.

And yes, that was how the director classified the sanctioned murder of one of his agents.

A contract.

Was it any wonder I had wanted out bad enough to risk a kill squad on my doorstep?

Except that wasn’t what happened, and I must have been banking on it. I was too valuable to terminate. Or I had been. Maybe I thought going white witch would turn the Bureau off me. If so, I had been wrong.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing here, debating what sweet treat I craved the most.

“I’ll bake.” I was relieved to work out some of my aggression in the kitchen. “You guys keep working.”

By the time dessert was done, the food ought to be here. The cookies I had in mind could cool while we ate dinner.

“Do we get to pick the recipe?” Clay fluttered his lashes at me. “I was thinking…”

“Kitchen sink cookies.” I rolled my eyes. “I know what you were thinking. I saw all the ingredients.”

While I indulged in my favorite form of relaxation, I attempted to draw our clues into a cohesive whole.

A text from Colby came through while I had sticky fingers, but the preview was laughing emojis.

That brief contact with her lightened my mood enough I could enjoy the simple act of baking.

The sweet and spicy aroma of extra saucy fried chicken wings overpowered my cookies, and I turned to find Clay bringing in the takeout.

Lost in thoughts and memories, I hadn’t heard the knock or his trek across the room.

“Are you all right?” Asa crowded me to reach the plates in the cabinet. “You’re pale.”

Details of the Stag case did that to me. When I gave them headspace, they left me cold and empty.

A thirst for power, a hunger for violence. A trail of bodies. His legacy of death might have been mine.

In many ways, it was, or had been. He never shook free of his addictions. I took my sobriety day by day.

“I don’t like that there are two previous sets of four missing girls, but we have this random missing girl in the mix. I don’t like that a guy who fits our profile has a missing daughter who’s not, to our knowledge, one of the victims.” I took the last pan of cookies from the oven and turned it off. “I don’t like it at all.”

“You want to go back out there tomorrow?” Clay accepted the plates from Asa. “It’s on the way.”

Empty hands freed up Asa to snag three hotel-branded water bottles for us to wash down the food.

Clay had treats on the brain instead of our usual travel staples, so we had to make do or drink milk.

“Yeah.” I followed them to the table and cleared space for us to eat. “I want a crack at him.”

I couldn’t put my finger on what bugged me, but I was rusty in the logical-deduction department. The whopper of a lie he told was more than enough to warrant a return visit, so we could use it as a platform for questioning him further.

We loaded our plates, fought over the cups of ranch dressing, then settled in to eat and take a break.

“Trust your instincts.” Asa moved the food around on his plate. “As Clay said, it won’t cost us anything.”

“This time, let’s park farther down the road.” I held my sticky fingers up to Asa. “I forgot the napkins.”

“I’ll get them.” He took the hint like a champ. “Need anything else?”

“Nope.” I smiled, polite as you please. “That’s it.”

When he turned his back, I held a finger to my lips where Clay would see, then I switched plates with Asa.

I had been careful not to eat any of mine. I just handled a couple to get saucy fingers. Then I settled in to observe Asa’s reaction. I expected him to figure it out before he sat, thanks to Clay’s glower, but Asa had napkins in hand, which he passed to me, then sat. I tried very hard not to stare, but I was curious as a cat when it came to him.

“Thanks.” I lifted a wing and took a bite. “These honey mustard ones are good.”

“I prefer the tongue torcher supreme.” Clay sniffled. “You know it’s good when your eyes water.”

“What about you?” I was totally rocking the covert vibe. “How do you like yours, Asa?”

A frown knit his brow as he brought a wing to his mouth. No. Not his mouth. His nose.

His eyes closed as he inhaled, and when he opened them, they were burnt crimson and fixed on me.

Until this exact moment, I can’t say I thought a man eating could get me hot and bothered, but Asa did it without breaking a sweat. Probably it was how he held my gaze the whole time…then licked his fingers.

“Here.” Clay pressed a bottle of icy water into my hand. “You look flushed.”

Breaking the staring contest, I smiled weakly at him. “I must have gotten a tongue torcher by mistake.”

“That must be it,” he said dryly. “I warned you about playing with fire.”

“You did.” I drank long and deep, drawn right back to Asa’s dark stare. “I think I just got burned.”

Too bad I got the feeling I wouldn’t learn a single thing from the experience.

* * *

We hadourselves a conundrum guaranteed to keep me running what-if scenarios until my brain gave up and shut off out of sheer exhaustion. It could only spin in so many circles before I got dizzy and fell down.

The Kellies informed us, after our cookies, that Mr. Olsen hadn’t been to work in four weeks.

His bosses didn’t know anything about a daughter, missing or not, and claimed he was on leave.

But, during that period, three grievances had been filed against him for aggression toward coworkers.

Meaning he had, for whatever reason, shown up to work while he was cleared for an extended vacation.

Those were the only black marks on his record with the company in over twenty years of employment.

Everyone grieved in their own way. I took no issue with Mr. Olsen snapping at people while he mourned.

Could even be that grief drove him to work to occupy his time. If so, why not report in and get paid?

Based on my glimpse of his living situation, he could use the money, so what had kept him coming back to work without compensation? Surely not the goodness of his heart. No one nine-to-fived for that.

A timer buzzed to let me know Colby would be expecting my call in five. After I raked my fingers through my hair, I did my best not to appear sleep deprived or stressed over the case as I dialed her number.

“You remembered.” Her face filled the screen. “I feel so special.”

“Smarty-pants.”

“I don’t wear pants.”

“Smarty fuzz butt.”

“Hey, now that’s rude. Do I talk about your butt fuzz?”

Heat crept up my nape when it occurred to me the guys could probably hear every word.

With that in mind, I quickly redirected our conversation. “How are things on the home front?”

“I don’t want you to freak out or anything if I tell you this.” She eyed me. “Promise?”

“I’m already freaking out hearing those words, so rip off the Band-Aid.”

“I miss you.” She held up two hands. “Not enough for you to come home or anything.”

“Aww.” I made kissy noises at her. “I miss you too.”

“Eww.” She blocked the camera with a wing. “Stop it, or I’ll puke.”

“Fine.” I waited to see her face again. “It’s weird hanging out with boys all day.”

“Clay seems cool.” She cut her eyes toward her computer screen and the battle raging there. “Asa is…”

“…also surprisingly cool.” I kept my assessment rated PG. “I haven’t worked with a daemon or a fae. He’s a twofer. Both halves seem equally cool.” I opened my mouth to say more but what came out was, “He’s got pretty hair.” Dang it, brain. You had one job. “Then again, so does Clay. Though I must confess not all wigs are created equal.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Enough about me.” I squinted at the screen. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing much right now. Most of my team is asleep.”

“This is way early for you guys.” I noticed the pile of snacks beside her keyboard. “You stayed up all night.” I clutched my chest in feigned shock. “That’s why you’ve got crust in your eyes, and your friends are MIA.”

“I don’t have crusty eyes.” She rubbed at them. “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“I’ll give you a one-time pass.” I got serious. “It’s unnerving any time the wards blink.”

Voice small, she asked, “It scares you too?”

“I got lucky my old boss sent Clay after me.” I didn’t want to get into the details, but Colby was smart. “It could have gotten ugly otherwise.” I hesitated. “We’re safer with me working for the Bureau again, but…we’ll always have to be careful.”

“Because you made a lot of powerful enemies.”

“Yes.”

“And because I’m special.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mind being a moth,” she said after a moment. “Flying is awesome.”

A bolt of regret struck me right in the heart, cracking it open for her to see. “I’m glad.”

“It will be even cooler once you let me actually be your familiar.”

“Um…”

“You’re back at work, which means you need a partner.” She thumbed her chest. “That’s me.”

“I have Clay and Asa.”

“They’re partners, though. You don’t have one. You’re a third wheel. I would balance the team.”

“You make a compelling argument.” Smart kids, man. “Let me get through this first assignment, okay?”

Hell would freeze over, thaw out, then freeze again before I let her work this particular case.

“That’s not a no, so deal.”

“Why do I feel like I was just played?”

A weird chime noise plus a cat yowl poured from her monitor. “Hey, the guys are awake.”

“I’m guessing that means you need to go.”

“I really need this golden Anubis statue, and Jane promised to help me steal one.”

“Have fun storming the castle.” I blew her a kiss. “Call if you have trouble sleeping, okay?”

A furry hand blew me a kiss in return. “I will.”

I ended the call knowing Colby would be up until dawn and not minding one bit if she bent the rules. The last thing I wanted was for her to be lonely and paranoid while I was too far away to comfort her. Moths were nocturnal, anyway. That’s why she had a generous bedtime for her age in the first place. Better she played all night and slept all day while I was traveling than hide in her bedroom, jumping at every noise.

Holding on to the warm glow that came from talking to Colby, I attempted to fall asleep on a high note.

Ten minutes later, I gave up, rolled out of bed, and padded into the kitchen to peek in the fridge.

A carton of blueberries and a produce bag with two lemons caught my eye.

Hmm.

Guess it was going to be a blueberry scone with lemon glaze kind of morning.