Veiled Magic by Deborah Blake

atmosphere was a little less oppressive.
    The Chief looked around her office with a dubious expression on his face, shaking his head. He’d seen the room last week, of course, when he’d come down to beg her help in finding his granddaughter, but he’d obviously had other things on his mind at the time. Now she saw him registering anew the dingy walls, lack of windows, and the pipes that ran along the back and clanked in time with the bathroom use on the second floor.
Home sweet home.
    She clicked a computer key inconspicuously, closing the search program she’d been looking at, and swiveled her chair to face his. “Hello, Chief,” she said more cheerfully than she felt, “what brings you down to my little slice of paradise?”
    The Chief grunted as he shifted on the stiff wooden chair, trying to find a comfortable position. Eventually he gave it up as a lost cause and got to the point of his visit.
    â€œNice job yesterday, Santori,” he said in his usual gruff tone. “Thought you might like a follow-up on the Franco angle, since you were the one who fingered him for us.”
    Right
, Donata thought to herself.
The boss coming downstairs to give a report to a junior officer. It’s official: hell
has
frozen over.
She bit back the temptation to call him on it—he’d tell her whatever was on his mind eventually, and she didn’t want to screw up a good thing by opening her big mouth.
    â€œUm, sure, Chief,” she said instead. “Did they bring him in?”
    The big man nodded. “Oh, yeah. Dragged him down here to listen to the EVP tape of our pal Marty’s confession.” His face screwed up like he’d bitten into a lemon. “Him and his high-priced lawyer, sitting there in their suits that cost more than I make in a month. Didn’t even bother to deny the charges once he heard the tape.”
    Donata was confused. Not that this was an unusual state for her these days.
    â€œYou don’t seem too pleased for a man who’s got the guilty party all locked up and tied with a ribbon,” she commented dryly. “I’m guessing that’s not the whole story?”
    â€œHuh,” the Chief grunted. “Nope, that’s the good news. The bad news is, Franco refused to name the person or persons who actually commissioned the painting theft.” He scowled, making Donata twitch involuntarily. “Franco said he’d rather take his chances with a judge than piss off the guy who hired him.”
    â€œIs he that scared of the guy?” Donata asked, thinking of the shadowy Cabal.
    Her boss shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe. More likely he figures he’d be out of business forever if he ratted out his customer. This way, he does a couple of years in jail, the customer gives him some extra compensation for keeping his mouth shut, and once he gets out, it’s right back to work.” The lines carved deep into his craggy face deepened momentarily, then eased again.
    â€œTruth is, this is just business as usual,” he said with resignation. “You can’t let it get to you. And hey, at least someone is going down for the crime, and that’s what matters.” He eased his bulk up out of the chair and reached across the table to shake Donata’s hand. In her surprise, she almost didn’t remember to get up and shake back.
    â€œYou did a good job out there in the field, Santori,” he added. “I’m starting to think I might have been ignoring an asset that’s been right under my nose all along.” He looked around the room again and shook his head. “I think maybe it’s time to expand your job description a little, don’t you?”
    Shut up and agree with him!
a little voice in the back of her head shouted.
Don’t rock the boat—not now!
Naturally, she didn’t listen.
    â€œUm, that would be great, Chief,” she said. “But I actually think I have a lead