Collecting Kirsten, who looked ravishing, I took her through the normal hallway and down the front stairs to the main level. She had been in the house before, but I made sure to refresh her memory on where things were and what hall led to where. The damned place was so huge that I still got lost occasionally.
Cocktails were served before dinner in what my grandmother called ‘the large parlor.’ In other words, about the size of a basketball court. When I was a kid, I was afraid to sit on any of the furniture in that room for fear of getting dirt on the upholstery.
I escorted Kirsten around, introducing her while trying to remember everyone’s name. It had been years since I saw some of my relatives, and I realized how many weddings, christenings, and funerals I’d ducked out of. The last time I’d seen Lila, the bride, she was just starting high school.
The occasion was a family affair. Surrounded by two hundred of my closest relatives, give or take a few people like Kirsten, I fought an almost overwhelming urge to run. It felt as though everyone was staring at me, the outsider, the imposter. The granddaughter of the most infamous man in history. Not even fully human, but part Rifter.
The atmosphere of privilege and entitlement conveyed everything I despised about Magi rule. Our talents could have made the world a brighter place and driven the demons out for good. Instead, the Families used their power to accrue more wealth, and they spent it either on gathering even more wealth or on debauchery.
The only time they deigned to acknowledge the problems in the world was when their exalted positions were threatened, or they were personally attacked. Sarah Benning came under the second category. All of the Families could imagine one of their own children disappearing, and she was the subject of several snatches of conversation I overheard.
I also caught my name and references to Kirsten, who, as in almost all settings, was the most beautiful woman in the room.
But mostly everyone was there to gorge on Uncle George’s food and further damage their livers. Some spent their entire lives traveling from party to party, sucking up more resources in a week than most working families produced in a year.
The whole charade might have been comical, if it wasn’t so indicative of the broken world we lived in.
I searched for our names on the place cards at the dinner table. I was put near the head of the long table, and Kirsten was somewhere near the foot with a lot of other young single people. I wished I was with her, but there was nothing I could do about it. I would never know if my place at the table was a purposeful sabotage or just an accident, but I ended up next to my Aunt Courtney.
“Danica! How lovely to see you!” Courtney’s thousand-watt smile indicated a lot more cheer than I was comfortable with. I plastered my own fake smile on my face, and prepared myself to play nice and try to survive the dinner with only minor wounds. I shot a glance at my grandmother, who batted her lashes and gave me a smug smile in return. I was on my own, thrown in the deep end. Probably a payback for dodging so many invitations over the years.
“Such a lovely dress,” Courtney gushed. As always, her chestnut hair was exquisitely done, and her green dress brought out the red highlights. And if I was embarrassed about the diamonds I’d been given to wear, they were drab in comparison with the gold and diamonds that my aunt sported. But she was always flamboyant and unhappy unless she was the center of attention. I made a note to myself to keep Kirsten away from her. That was a pissing contest I didn’t want to see.
“Is that your little friend?” Courtney asked, peering down the table toward Kirsten. “The one who has that quaint little shop by the harbor? You’ll have to introduce me.”
Luckily, most of what she said didn’t require a response, as she simply plowed ahead without waiting for one.
“I’m so glad we have this chance to chat. I’ve been wanting to speak with you. I understand that you’re investigating the death of Martin Johansson. Such a terrible tragedy. You haven’t caught his killer, have you?”
“As a matter of fact, we have. It looks like a murder for hire.”
“Really? Well, that makes sense. We live in such a terrible world. One would hope business rivals would be more civilized, but I guess such things do happen.”
She continued in much the same vein through most of dinner. As if in passing, she mentioned a shooting at a bar owned by her husband and lamented why he would be involved with such a place. “I’ve told him I don’t approve.” Essentially, she was mining information while appearing to simply gossip. I was sure she knew I was involved in that mess, too. But my patience was rewarded when she inadvertently dropped a piece of information I hadn’t known.
“My grandson said that you interviewed him about that missing Benning girl. Personally, I think her parents should bear some of the blame for that. From what I hear, she was pretty wild.”
“Your grandson?”
“Yes, William.”
“William Moncrieff is your grandson?”
She sighed and said, “Yes, Karolyn’s boy.”
“I didn’t know Karolyn ever married?” I knew damned well Cousin Karolyn hadn’t married. Her illegitimate son was the family scandal. I just hadn’t put the kid I met and Karolyn together.
I told her a little bit about Kirsten’s shop, which I was sure she already knew, but she wasn’t interested in listening to me. Instead, she told me about a shop that a friend of hers had a financial interest in. I waited until after dessert and sprang my
