Whisper of Shadows (The Diamond City Magic Novels) by Diana Pharaoh Francis Page B

Special Agent Henry arrived. He looked almost innocuous in a dark blue suit with a white shirt and a blue-striped tie, with polished black shoes and a high-and-tight haircut. His hair was dark blond and he wore horn-rimmed glasses—an affectation, given how cheap and easy it was to get tinkered to 20/20. Maybe he just wanted to look geeky-harmless so suspects wouldn’t take him too seriously and would spill their guts. I wondered if it worked for him.
    “My apologies,” he said as he joined us. “I understand you are inquiring after the Clayton Price case? I’m the Special Agent in charge, Ezra Henry. And you are?” He held out his hand out to Taylor first.
    “Taylor Hollis,” she said, returning to that faintly stupid-but-sweet fashion-plate persona.
    She smiled as she took his hand. He stared at her, mesmerized. And why not? My sister is beautiful. She’s got lush auburn hair that tumbles down her shoulders to the middle of her back. Her eyes are ocean blue. Add in porcelain skin, full lips, elegance, and an athletic body swathed in high fashion—she is mesmerizing.
    “You’re so kind to meet with us, especially when you’re so busy.”
    I kept quiet. I was willing to let Taylor play this game to see what she could find out. She’d wanted me to trust her more, and frankly, this particular investigation was in her wheelhouse.
    Special Agent Henry stumbled over his words, saying something to the effect that it was his pleasure, then reluctantly let go of Taylor’s hand and turned to me. His eyes slowly focused, and he managed to reel in his hanging tongue. “And you are?” he asked, taking my hand.
    Like he didn’t know. I almost rolled my eyes, but decided to follow Taylor’s lead and play dumb. “Riley Hollis.” I pulled away.
    “You’re sisters?” He smiled, focusing back on Taylor. “I should have seen that right away.”
    He didn’t seem inclined to get introduced to Pia or Mason, giving them a glance but clearly dismissing them as unimportant. I bristled at that, but let it pass. They preferred to stay in the background until needed on center stage.
    “I’m happy to discuss the case with you,” he said, mostly to Taylor. “Can I offer you some coffee or juice?” He pushed the gate open again and held it. The receptionist must have keyed in the code for him.
    “Absolutely not.” Touray launched himself onto the landing from the stairs. His glance slashed across us, then settled on Special Agent Henry. “They aren’t going anywhere with you,” he said, his mouth pulled into grim lines.
    Price and Touray shared a father. They both had black hair and pale skin, but then the resemblance muddied. Touray’s hair was cut short, almost military style. Price’s was longer, down to his collar. Where Price was more lean, Touray was thickly slabbed with muscle. His face was square, and his black eyes held scary shadows. He radiated menace and ruthlessness. I expected Special Agent Henry to fold up under that scowling regard. He didn’t. Instead, he sharpened into a hard blade. He turned to Touray, his brows arching above the nerdy glasses, his expression carefully deadpan.
    “I’m sorry, who might you be?”
    Again with the questions he already had to know the answers to. I had to admire his cool. Touray liked to call himself family now, and he still made me nervous most of the time. When he went into a rage, I mostly wanted to crawl under a rock and stay out of his way. Right now, wearing a tailored suit, he looked the part of a mob boss, which he was. That veneer of money and civilization didn’t really hide the fact that he could easily tear someone’s throat out. Just at this moment, that someone was Special Agent Henry. I was a close second.
    “That might be none of your damned business.” Touray glared at me. “You were supposed to come down to the lobby.”
    I could feel Taylor stiffen. On a good day, she didn’t like Touray. This was not a good day. She tossed her hair. “We