'A good lawyer should know better than to lead her witness that way, Margrit. Or are you hoping I’ll succumb to a fit of contrariness?' Wariness encountered Daisani’s tone, a caution Margrit was unaccustomed to hearing from him.
'Something like that. We’re off the record, Mr. Daisani. You know Janx is losing his seconds-in-command left and right.'
'Careless of him,' the vampire murmured, his eyes shuttering before he peeked up to judge Margrit’s reaction to his teasing. Then his mouth twisted at the unamused expression she felt on her own features, an apology. 'Not a morning for humor. Of course not. Forgive me. Yes, I’m aware.'
'Off the record,' Margrit repeated. 'Is it you?'
Daisani stepped back, pure surprise turning him briefly vulnerable. 'You came here today to ask me that? Oh,' he added instantly. 'Yes. Of course. I see why you would, under the circumstances. No, Miss Knight, it’s not me. I can’t say that I’m in the slightest bit dismayed-I may offer a reward to those persons responsible-but it’s not me.'
Margrit’s fingers tightened around her water glass as she absorbed his response. After a moment she heard herself say, 'Fuck,' with quiet, precise clarity before she turned away from the vampire to find a seat. 'Fuck. I believe you. I didn’t think I would.'
'Then why did you come here?'
Margrit breathed a laugh as she sat down. 'So when you lied to me I would have a degree of moral high ground to stand on when I offered up a trade.'
Daisani came to sit beside her, deliberately moving with human slowness. 'A trade, Miss Knight?'
'Sure.' She stared out at city rooftops. 'It was going to be a very good trade. You were going to lie to me about being behind Janx’s murders and I was going to accept your job offer in exchange for you sparing Malik’s life.'
From the corner of her eye she saw Daisani’s jaw actually fall open a few centimeters. She glanced toward him as he pulled himself together, his spine straightening. 'You’ve surprised me, Miss Knight,' he said after a few long seconds. 'I would never have imagined you to be so opportunistic, especially with the body still cooling. I’m caught between utter admiration and being completely appalled.'
Margrit’s stomach lurched and she came to her feet, cold sweat standing out all over. 'Body? What-Malik can’t be dead.' Her heartbeat was suddenly loud and fragile in her ears. If the djinn was dead, those beats were numbered, and she had a frantic desire to count them, acknowledging each last one.
'Malik? No. My God. You don’t know.' Daisani stood as well, reaching for her elbow. 'No, as far as I know, Malik is alive and well. It’s Russell Lomax, Margrit. He was found dead this morning at the Legal Aid offices, less than an hour ago.'
CHAPTER 11
Margrit lost her case, and lost it badly. The judge asked twice if she was interested in the proceedings, and Jacob Mills gave her more than one concerned glance across the aisle. She rallied a little for the closing arguments, but Jacob’s obliterated hers. As she watched her client being led away, she only hoped she hadn’t done so badly as to earn an appeal.
Tony met her just outside the courtroom doors. She stopped dead, taking in his drawn expression and the lack of color in his usually ruddy skin. 'So they’re investigating it as a homicide.'
Dread washed out of Tony’s features, replaced by dismayed relief. Margrit squeezed her eyes shut, unable to blame him for not wanting to be the one bearing bad news, and equally sympathetic to his sorrow that she’d already learned what he’d come to tell her. 'Are they investigating it as a homicide? Or are you just here because I need you?'
'Both.' Tony’s voice cracked on the word and Margrit moved forward, walking blindly into him. He caught her and she knotted her arms around his ribs, trembling with the effort of holding on. People brushed by them, reporters and lawyers, witnesses and victims. A camera flashed and the weight of Tony’s arms lessened as he reached out. Margrit caught a glimpse of him putting his hand over the lens. The photographer swore, but backed off, and Tony tugged Margrit a step or two away. 'C’mon. Let’s get somewhere more private.'
She nodded, letting him lead her from the bustle. Her heels clacked and echoed as they stepped out of the main hall into a quieter passageway. Tony turned to her then, expression still serious. 'We don’t know anything yet. We’ve been reviewing security tapes, but we haven’t seen anyone unusual entering or exiting the building, at least not this morning. It happened early enough that we’re pretty sure we’ve already talked to everyone who did enter the building through normal channels. We’ve started going through last night’s tapes, and we’ve got somebody working on his case files.'
'Is there anything I can do to help?' Margrit’s voice sounded thick to her own ears.
Tony put his hands on her shoulders in gentle concern. 'Probably not. Most of your office has taken the day off, Grit. Maybe you should, too. We just have to do our job.'
'I could-' She swallowed. 'I’d feel better if I could do something, even if it’s trivial. Maybe I could…help go through case files.'
'Margrit.' Tony squeezed her shoulders carefully. 'It’s our job, not yours. I’ll keep you as informed as I can, okay?'
'Yeah.' She closed her eyes, then opened them again hastily, the tiny weakness too clearly a prelude to tears. 'Thank you.'
'No problem.' He frowned until it looked like it hurt. Margrit reached up to run a thumb over his forehead, smoothing wrinkles, and his scowl turned to a weak, concerned smile. 'You okay?'
'No.' Margrit smiled just as weakly. 'No, I’m really not, but I can’t fall apart yet. Not here.'
Regret spasmed over Tony’s face. 'I wish I could bring you home and take care of you for a while.'
'It’s okay.' She summoned a better smile into place and squeezed his arm. 'I’ll be all right, really. I’ll take a cab home and go to pieces on Cameron or Cole.'
'Yeah. It’s just, you know. I’d kinda like to be the one you go to pieces on.'
'I know.' Margrit stepped into his arms to hold on to him again for a long moment. 'I know. But you’ve got to go to work and find out what son of a bitch did this. Be careful, Tony, okay? For me?'
'I’m always careful.' Tony stole a kiss, then brushed his fingers over her cheek. 'You be careful, too, okay? I’ll let you know everything I can, as soon as I can. Walk you out?'
'Yeah.' Margrit held still, though, making Tony turn back to her. 'How did he-how…?' She took a breath as reluctance darkened Tony’s eyes. 'It’s going to be in the papers anyway. I’d rather you told me.'
'Yeah.' Tony thinned his lips, then sighed. 'He was suffocated. They don’t even know with what yet.'
Margrit lifted a hand to her throat, coloring with the recollection of struggling for air, and shuddered. 'Okay. Thank you.'
Tony frowned again, taking her hand and pulling her into another hug. 'We’ll get him, Grit. Whoever it is, we’ll get him. C’mon. Let’s get you in a cab to go home. I’ll come by tonight if I can, all right?'
'That’d be good.' Weary emotion knocked at Margrit’s heart, a brief wish that it might be Alban who’d see her that evening, but the gargoyle had made it more than clear that she was no longer his concern. Living in both worlds was impossible.
That, unexpectedly, broke her. A sob caught in her throat as Tony led her down the courthouse steps and hailed a taxi. 'You’ll be okay,' he promised as he helped her into the vehicle. 'Just hang in there, Grit. I’ll see you tonight.'
Margrit nodded, not trusting her voice. Tony gave the cabbie her address, then closed the door and stepped onto the curb to watch her go. She waved goodbye and slid down in the seat, keeping her eyes closed throughout the drive. A litany of disbelief ran through her now that the court case was no longer a distraction: 'No, oh no,' whispered over and over again. She tilted her head back, trying to stretch tightness out of her throat, and swallowed against the sting there, to no avail. The cabbie’s voice telling her they’d arrived startled her, and she handed over a twenty and climbed out without waiting for the change. Reaching her apartment seemed like the only important thing to do; in its refuge she could let go of control for a few minutes and give in to grief and shock.
