Home > Cursed Moon (Prospero's War #2)(25)

Cursed Moon (Prospero's War #2)(25)
Author: Jaye Wells

I swallowed hard. “Because she said Pen got into the accident late last night. On the way home from my house.”

Morales frowned. “Had she been drinking?”

I waved a hand. “No—I mean she’d had maybe two beers.” I huffed out a frustrated sigh. “I need to get going. Do you think you can continue to look for Little Man and Mary without me for a couple of hours?”

He shook his head. “I’m going with you.”

“But—”

“Don’t but me, Prospero. I’m taking you. Once we’re sure she’s really okay we can continue our search for the twins.”

I blinked. “Thanks.”

“Why do you sound so surprised? Pen’s your friend. That means she’s family.”

“You guys go on,” Mez said. “I’ll let Gardner know the situation.”

“Thanks, Mez.”

With that, Morales turned me by my shoulders and urged me toward the door. “Don’t worry, Kate. She’s going to be all right.”

I nodded, but I wondered if I would be. Because my first thought after Smith told me Pen was stable was that if I’d told the truth about cooking with Volos, that party never would have happened and Pen wouldn’t be in the hospital. Karma was a fucking bitch.

Chapter Ten

My heart raced my sneakers down the white corridor. Nurse Smith had assured me that Pen would be okay, but on the drive over my adrenaline had spiked to dangerous levels.

In my head, I was remembering the day six weeks ago when Danny’s body had been wheeled in after Gray Wolf turned him into a monster and we’d had to shoot him with a salt flare to stop him from killing me.

“Kate!” Nurse Smith called. As I moved toward her, I tried to find some solace in the fact that she was assigned to Pen. Back when she’d treated Danny, I appreciated that the nurse didn’t candy-coat and she never lost her nerve when shit got tense.

“Special Agent Morales,” the nurse said in greeting to Morales. They’d met when Danny was in his coma.

“Thanks for calling,” I said. “Is she okay?”

Smith rubbed her eyes and stretched her back, indicating she was well into a long shift. “She’ll live, but she might not be happy about it for a while. In addition to the concussion, her left wrist is sprained, and she has a couple of broken ribs, contusions all down the left side of her body, and a nasty case of whiplash.”

“Any idea how the wreck happened?” Morales asked.

Smith jerked her head toward a uniformed cop loitering by the coffee machines. “That’s the responding.”

I nodded. “Is she awake?”

“She’s having her dressings changed.” She gave me the number of a room about four doors down the hall. “By the time you’re done getting the story they should be done and you can check on her.”

“Thanks, Nurse Smith.”

She smiled genuinely. “If there’s anything you need…”

Morales and I approached the uniform a few moments later. “Excuse me?” I held out my hand. “I’m Detective Kate Prospero and this is my colleague Special Agent Drew Morales, MEA. I’m Penelope Griffin’s best friend.”

The officer swallowed his mouthful of coffee hard and his eyes widened at hearing our titles. The guy couldn’t have been old enough to have outgrown wet dreams. “I’m Officer Murphy. I responded to the wreck?” When I nodded and waited expectantly, he shuffled on his feet. “Can we discuss your friend’s wreck someplace private?”

I was torn between annoyance and pity. The kid was obviously fresh out of the academy and just trying to do a good job. But his deferential demeanor struck a chord in some jaded part of me that had forgotten the days when I had that same ambitious shine in my eyes. Back when I thought I could make a difference. Back when I still believed there were good guys and bad guys, and it was always clear who deserved to win.

“Detective?” he said hesitantly after I didn’t respond.

I snapped myself out of the dark spaces and cleared my throat. “Yes, of course. Sorry.”

“Totally understandable, ma’am.”

It was the “ma’am” that spelled his doom. “In there,” I snapped, pointing to a small consultation room off the main waiting area.

Murphy, Morales, and I entered the empty waiting room. My partner shot me an odd look, like he’d seen something on my face that concerned him. I shot him a dismissive frown.

The door wasn’t even closed when the kid started in. “Does Miss Griffin use illegal Arcane substances?”

I paused in the process of shutting the door behind us and then slowly snapped it shut. Talk about choosing the absolute worst question to lead with. I turned to face him, my back against the closed door. “Are you sure that’s what you meant to ask me?”

He frowned. “Yes?”

I pushed away from the door. “Really? Did you have any evidence from the scene that might implicate her in potion use? Further, was there evidence that the wreck was her fault?”

“Err—no. I’m just trying to cover my bases.”

I narrowed my eyes. “By putting the interview subject on the defensive before the conversation even starts? Bad form, Officer.”

“Kate,” Morales said under his breath. I ignored him and continued to stare down the rookie.

His mouth worked for a second. I let him flounder on the end of the line for a few seconds before I continued. “If you want someone to be open and honest with you, you need to first establish rapport. Most of the people you will talk to in this line of work are emotionally distraught and/or hiding something. If you come at them head-on you’re going to hit one brick wall after another.”

His expression became wary. “Okay?”

“May I see the initial accident report,” Morales asked. The guy shrugged and handed it over.

I made a disgusted sound. “How long have you been on the force?”

He pulled himself up straighter. “Six months, ma’am.”

My eyes narrowed. “Ma’am is something you call your Sunday school teacher or your mother, not a goddamned detective, son. When you’re talking to a superior female officer, you call her sir or by her rank. Got it?”

He nodded slowly and backed up a step, like he was worried I was mentally unstable. I suppose I was in a way. Unhinged. Yeah, I felt about two screws away from becoming totally fucking unhinged. “Now, as to your question: It’s pointless to ask me if Pen’s had a history of Arcane because even if she did and you tried to pin a DUI on her, the evidence wouldn’t hold up in court because her lawyer would have it dismissed as hearsay.”

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