it easier on everyone involved.”
What in the hell was she talking about? Had she been smoking some catnip this morning?
Best to play along or they’d never get out of there. “Right. Extinguish the torch. I’m totally on it.”
Eden grabbed her purse and headed for the door, which Darrak now held open.
“Leena,” he said dryly. “A pleasure as always.”
“Bite me, demon.”
“Is that an invitation?”
She morphed into her cat form, turned her back on him, and padded into Eden’s bedroom.
Eden rolled her eyes. The two despised each other, but they hid it so well.
When Darrak closed the door behind them, she turned to him. “What torch was she talking about?”
“No idea. You seriously need to get rid of her.” His expression soured. “I think she has fleas. And she’s a trouble-maker.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“I don’t have fleas.”
A glance down the hall showed that her new neighbor was leaving his apartment at the same time. He fumbled and dropped a ring of keys on the floor as well as a bag of something. Were those marbles?
They scattered in all directions. He swore under his breath.
Adjusting her purse strap, Eden knelt down and gathered up the small, colorful glass spheres that rolled toward her.
“This is embarrassing,” the neighbor said. He was tall and attractive with wire-frame glasses perched over light brown eyes. He wore a blue suit and tie that managed to look more casual than businessy. He raked a hand through his short, shaggy brown hair.
“What’s embarrassing about marbles?” Eden asked, smiling. “I used to play with them when I was . . . well, I was ten at the time, but I’m not here to judge.”
“They’re actually not my marbles. I’m a teacher, and I’ve found simple rewards like these help to motivate students. Since I’m new here, I can use all the help I can get.”
“So every student who answers a question . . .”
“Wins a shiny marble. You’ve got it.” He grinned.
“Welcome to the building. You just moved in, right?”
“Two days ago.” He finished scooping the escaping marbles back into the little cloth bag he held, then extended his hand. “I’m Lucas Campbell.”
She shook his hand. “Eden Riley. And this is . . . uh, Darrak.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Darrak said, sounding bored. “Eden? Shall we go now?”
“Nice meeting you, Lucas,” she said.
“Yeah, you, too. I’m having a meet and greet in my apartment soon. Just a small thing. A couple bottles of wine and friendly neighborhood chat. Would the two of you be interested in coming?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Just let me know when.”
“I’ll do that.” He glanced at his watch. “Got to get going. I’m late.”
“Us, too.”
They rode down in the elevator together. Lucas was right, these days people kept to themselves, apart from awkward small talk. But Eden wasn’t opposed to the idea of being more friendly with a neighbor. You never knew when you’d need to borrow a cup of sugar. Or ask them to ignore screaming and/or gunfire coming from within one’s apartment walls.
One or the other.
They parted ways outside, and Eden and Darrak drove to Triple-A Investigations, a small, one-room private investigation office on the outskirts of Toronto. It was right next door to the Hot Stuff café.
Eden owned half the business because her mother had left it to her in her will. Caroline Riley hadn’t been a fabulous and attentive mother, but she’d been a great gambler and had soundly beaten Andy McCoy—now Eden’s partner—in a poker game to win part ownership in the agency. Eden had resisted working there because being a private investigator didn’t appeal to her at all. She didn’t have any experience in that line of work—after all, her last job had been as a telephone tarot card reader and occasional— very occasional—psychic consultant to the police.
Recently, however, she’d started taking this opportunity more seriously. She wanted to
What in the hell was she talking about? Had she been smoking some catnip this morning?
Best to play along or they’d never get out of there. “Right. Extinguish the torch. I’m totally on it.”
Eden grabbed her purse and headed for the door, which Darrak now held open.
“Leena,” he said dryly. “A pleasure as always.”
“Bite me, demon.”
“Is that an invitation?”
She morphed into her cat form, turned her back on him, and padded into Eden’s bedroom.
Eden rolled her eyes. The two despised each other, but they hid it so well.
When Darrak closed the door behind them, she turned to him. “What torch was she talking about?”
“No idea. You seriously need to get rid of her.” His expression soured. “I think she has fleas. And she’s a trouble-maker.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“I don’t have fleas.”
A glance down the hall showed that her new neighbor was leaving his apartment at the same time. He fumbled and dropped a ring of keys on the floor as well as a bag of something. Were those marbles?
They scattered in all directions. He swore under his breath.
Adjusting her purse strap, Eden knelt down and gathered up the small, colorful glass spheres that rolled toward her.
“This is embarrassing,” the neighbor said. He was tall and attractive with wire-frame glasses perched over light brown eyes. He wore a blue suit and tie that managed to look more casual than businessy. He raked a hand through his short, shaggy brown hair.
“What’s embarrassing about marbles?” Eden asked, smiling. “I used to play with them when I was . . . well, I was ten at the time, but I’m not here to judge.”
“They’re actually not my marbles. I’m a teacher, and I’ve found simple rewards like these help to motivate students. Since I’m new here, I can use all the help I can get.”
“So every student who answers a question . . .”
“Wins a shiny marble. You’ve got it.” He grinned.
“Welcome to the building. You just moved in, right?”
“Two days ago.” He finished scooping the escaping marbles back into the little cloth bag he held, then extended his hand. “I’m Lucas Campbell.”
She shook his hand. “Eden Riley. And this is . . . uh, Darrak.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Darrak said, sounding bored. “Eden? Shall we go now?”
“Nice meeting you, Lucas,” she said.
“Yeah, you, too. I’m having a meet and greet in my apartment soon. Just a small thing. A couple bottles of wine and friendly neighborhood chat. Would the two of you be interested in coming?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Just let me know when.”
“I’ll do that.” He glanced at his watch. “Got to get going. I’m late.”
“Us, too.”
They rode down in the elevator together. Lucas was right, these days people kept to themselves, apart from awkward small talk. But Eden wasn’t opposed to the idea of being more friendly with a neighbor. You never knew when you’d need to borrow a cup of sugar. Or ask them to ignore screaming and/or gunfire coming from within one’s apartment walls.
One or the other.
They parted ways outside, and Eden and Darrak drove to Triple-A Investigations, a small, one-room private investigation office on the outskirts of Toronto. It was right next door to the Hot Stuff café.
Eden owned half the business because her mother had left it to her in her will. Caroline Riley hadn’t been a fabulous and attentive mother, but she’d been a great gambler and had soundly beaten Andy McCoy—now Eden’s partner—in a poker game to win part ownership in the agency. Eden had resisted working there because being a private investigator didn’t appeal to her at all. She didn’t have any experience in that line of work—after all, her last job had been as a telephone tarot card reader and occasional— very occasional—psychic consultant to the police.
Recently, however, she’d started taking this opportunity more seriously. She wanted to
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