As usual, Lucien is short on words.
As in none while we ride up the elevator to the penthouse. When we exit, he moves off toward the kitchen because I have noticed the man likes to eat a lot. I suspect it’s not necessarily for nourishment or enjoyment, but rather if he has his mouth full of food, he doesn’t have to converse with anyone.
I don’t see Zaid around, so that means he’s either in his office or down in the library, researching for information on Otto Von Schmidt.
I head for my room to drop my backpack off. While it was not needed when we went to see Sarvel, I have taken to carrying it with me everywhere. It’s one of my resolutions not to take things for granted anymore. I’ve been burned a few too many times by underestimating things, and I’m tired of the lectures from Carrick.
Before I reach my room, my cell phone starts ringing, and I pull it out of the side pocket of my pack. It’s the generic ring tone, and I don’t recognize the number, but it’s a Seattle area code so I answer it, thinking it could be a One Bean subcontractor or vendor.
“Hello,” I say breezily as I open the door to my bedroom and let the backpack slide to the floor.
“Finley?” a man says in a deep voice, and I can tell he’s older and sounds familiar.
“Speaking,” I reply, shutting my door and moving to my bed, where I flop down with my head on the pillow.
“This is Blain Stratherton, the 2nd,” he says imperiously, and I immediately sit up straight in shock.
Blain’s father.
“Um… hello, Mr. Stratherton,” I mumble, my mind spinning with uneasiness that he’s called me. I didn’t even think he knew my name.
There’s silence, and I wait.
And wait.
And then a female comes on the phone, and I recognize her as Blain’s mother. “Finley… I’m sorry, but Mr. Stratherton is having a moment.”
“A moment?” I ask stupidly.
“An emotional one,” she clarifies.
My jaw drops, not even being able to imagine him showing any type of emotion other than pompousness. Immediately, though, I feel empathy because he’s lost his son.
And I know that’s why they’re calling, so I take the initiative. “Mrs. Stratherton… I’m glad you called. I’ve wanted to get an update on your son.”
Her voice quavers as she tells me what I already knew from the paper. That he’s still missing, but there are no more leads to follow. “He’s presumed dead,” she says on a tiny sob.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I rush to say, knowing no amount of condolences is going to give her solace.
Clearing her throat, she makes known exactly what she wants. “We need to meet with you. We can’t find Fallon, and while some might think foul play given that Blain is missing, we think Fallon knows something about his disappearance.”
I wince and say inside my head, Shit, shit, shit, shit. I should have known their thoughts would go there. Why wouldn’t they? Kymaris—posing as Fallon—probably blew them off repetitively, and now she’s shut the gallery down.
“I know that you might not like me saying that about your sister, but—”
“No,” I interject, needing to put space between the person who was my sister and me. “Something’s wrong with Fallon, and well… I’ve been bothered by some things.”
“Can we meet?” Mrs. Stratherton asks.
“Um,” I drawl, hesitating to commit. No way Zaid or Lucien will let me go alone. No way I can show up with Lucien intact because he’s just… unexplainable.
“Please,” Mrs. Stratherton implores, her voice watery again. “We’re so lost, and you’re our last hope of trying to understand what may have happened.”
Crap. I know what happened, but I can’t very well tell her that.
But what I could possibly do is put more suspicion on Fallon. It doesn’t hurt me in any way, and it makes me look helpful to these poor people who are suffering. I expect perhaps the police might be looking Fallon’s way as well, and I could be getting a call from them at some point.
It’s probably best I look cooperative from the start, and if the police are poking around Fallon’s business, maybe it would slow her up a bit in whatever her nefarious plans are.
Not that Fallon is likely to make an appearance. Kymaris has ditched her glamour and moved out of the downtown area. Maddox easily found her new domain just by stalking her lackeys as he said he would. She’s holed up in a stunning mansion on Lake Washington in Medina. Apparently, it’s owned by a retired media mogul who was well into his eighties and his young supermodel-looking wife.
It was a certainty Kymaris killed them both so she could take over their house.
We’re also sure Kymaris would have assumed the young supermodel’s face for her glamour because, dark or light, all fae are vain.