Mab was also said to be quietly searching for a blond hooker who'd attended her party and had been seen leaving with Tobias Dawson. According to Finn, the Fire elemental had sent Elliot Slater and a couple of his giant goons to question Roslyn Phillips about the mysterious hooker. But Slater had eventually been satisfied that the invitation and rune necklace had been stolen from Northern Aggression without Roslyn's knowledge. Still, I had Finn wire Roslyn a significant amount of money to help make up for what I was sure had been a forceful interview.
And I still wondered about that night at the party and why Mab hadn't just killed me herself when I'd been knocked out cold on the ground in front of her. It would have been easy enough for her to do. Why make Dawson do it? Why make him take me somewhere else? Had Mab known he would take me to the mine? Maybe she'd thought I'd kill Dawson for her, and she could step in and have all the diamonds for herself. It wouldn't have been a bad plan, if I hadn't collapsed the whole mountain in the process.
I didn't know the Fire elemental's reasoning, and I'd never believed much in luck. But I knew that I'd dodged my own death that night. But now she was actively searching for me, and I had no illusions about what would happen if she ever discovered my real identity.
The fact was I'd have to be more careful for the foreseeable future - at least until someone else caught Mab Monroe's interest.
Two weeks after the incident at the mine, I perched on my stool at the Pork Pit reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. Fletcher's copy of Where the Red Fern Grows adorned the wall beside the cash register, of course, but it had been joined by something new - the picture of him and Warren T. Fox. I think Fletcher would have liked having it in the restaurant.
It was a Monday night again and quiet except for my two customers - Eva Grayson and Violet Fox. The two college girls sat at the counter, slurping down chocolate milkshakes and studying. Their books covered a good portion of the countertop. Eva and Violet had started coming into the Pork Pit at least once a week when they had an hour or two to kill between classes. Sometimes, Cassidy, Eva's other friend, joined them. But more often than not it was just the two girls.
"So when are you going to go out with my big brother?"
Eva said, pushing aside her empty milkshake glass.
I looked up from my book. "Why do you ask?"
Eva stared at me. "Because every time I mention I've been in here, he asks me how you are, Gin. Why don't you give the poor guy a break?"
I raised my eyebrow. "If your big brother wants to ask me out, he can come down here and do it himself, instead of getting his little sister to plead his case to me. "
Eva waved her hand. "I'm just filling you in on Owen's good qualities. Not pleading his case. "
"What was it you told me you were majoring in again?"
"Marketing," Eva replied with a grin.
"I rest my case. "
Violet just laughed and took another swig of her own milkshake.
The front door opened, causing the bell to chime. I looked up, ready to greet a potential customer.
And he walked into the restaurant.
Detective Donovan Caine. Black hair, golden eyes, bronze skin. The Hispanic detective looked the same as I remembered, except for the lines on his face. For once, they seemed to have smoothed out, as though some great weight had been lifted off his lean shoulders. As though he'd made some decision that had finally brought him a measure of peace. I wondered what it could be, but I had a funny feeling it had something to do with me. Maybe everything to do with me.
The detective came over and rested his hands on the counter. Hands that
had done such wonderful things to my body. "Gin. "
"Detective. "
"Can we talk?" he asked in a low voice.
I hadn't seen the detective since that afternoon I'd waved to him from the ridge, and he hadn't made any effort to contact me. People always talked about the stages of grief you went through when something traumatic happened. Hah. I'd pretty much moved from hurt to just plain pissed, with no stops in between. Still, I was curious as to why Donovan had come, what he wanted to say to me now, two weeks too late. Fucking curiosity. Just wouldn't let me be.
"Sure. Let's chat. " I turned my gray eyes to Violet and Eva. "Why don't you girls go in the back for a few minutes and convince Sophia to make you some fresh milkshakes? On the house. "
Violet shrugged and walked around the far end of the counter. Eva Grayson studied Donovan Caine with open interest. She sniffed, clearly telling me she didn't think the detective had anything on her big brother. Then she folowed Violet.
I waited until the two college girls had disappeared through the swinging doors and were out of earshot before I looked back at the detective. "I saw you on TV at the coal mine. Looked like you had your hands full recovering Tobias Dawson's body. "
The detective nodded. "I did. But Owen Grayson was a tremendous help with that. So were all the other emergency and disaster workers. "
We could have been talking about the weather for as interesting as the conversation was. But the detective's hands gripped the edge of the counter like he wanted to break it off. He was upset about something. I had no idea what it could be. Because he was the one who'd turned his back on me that day at the mine, not the other way around. So I decided to get to the heart of the matter.
"Why did you come here, Donovan?" I asked. "What do you want?"