The butler had lifted a brow at Daisy, but let us in when Peter flashed his badge. I drummed my fingertips on my thighs as we waited for him to fetch the lady of the house. Had anyone ever sat on this no doubt priceless piece of modern furniture in a pair of ratty sweatpants before? I doubted it. Good. I nodded to myself. I liked to be original, if nothing else.
The place was stark, all whites and blacks—the modern interior a striking contrast to the warm stone and plaster outside. And I couldn’t even hear any roaches or rats scurrying around behind the walls—that’s how you knew real class.
Peter leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You’re sure you saw her last night in the street?”
I nodded. “Positive. I just couldn’t place her at the time.”
He worried his lip and laced his hands together between his legs. “We don’t want to anger a rich and powerful person like Amelie LeBec for no reason. My boss will be all over me if we don’t handle this right.”
“Duly noted.” I flashed my eyes at him. “But I’m sure.”
The lady in question strode into the room, her stiletto heels clicking on the polished concrete floor. She sported a pantsuit with an asymmetrically hemmed jacket and a black stone choker that looked like a snake eating its own tail.
With her severe haircut, striking cheekbones, and full lips, I couldn’t have mistaken her for anyone else—even in the rain and the dark.
She lowered her tall, lithe frame into a chair across from us. It appeared to be made of blackened pieces of twisted driftwood. She crossed one knee over the other, arms spread out on the rests, and lifted a thin brow. “Well?”
Well, indeed. Someone was feeling herself.
Peter inclined his head. “Lady Amelie LeBec, thank you for taking the time to meet with us today. I’m Officer Peter Flint, and this is my associate Jolene Hartgrave.”
The woman’s eyes slid to me. “She is an officer?”
I raised a finger and clarified. “Consultant.”
She sneered. “Ah.”
Geez. Someone was adept at throwing shade.
Daisy’s tail swished. I like her.
I sniffed and let out a barely audible whine. You would.
Amelie curled her lip as she eyed the dog. “Oh, lovely. You’ve brought a pet.”
Peter cleared his throat. “Actually—” He ruffled the dog’s head and her tail wagged. “Daisy’s my partner.”
The rich woman’s nostrils flared. “Hm. Most officers I’ve met don’t shed quite so much.”
I smirked and glanced around at the sterile mansion—most of the furniture and walls were white—yet somehow spotless. The lady was a clean freak.
I reached forward with both hands and ruffled Daisy’s fur. “Yeah, I think she’s blowing her coat right now.” Clumps of tawny hair rose into the air, and I grinned at Amelie’s wan expression.
My smile dropped when Daisy growled, low and loud, her whole body vibrating. Remove your hands or lose them.
Well, fine then. I leaned back on the bench and crossed my arms.
Lady Amelie turned her unamused glare on Peter. “Why are you here?”
“There was a murder last night in the Darkmoon District.” He shifted in his seat. “A witness placed you near the scene of the crime shortly after it took place.”
The lady huffed, her lip curled back in a sneer. “Do I look like I’d be skulking around that sinkhole?”
Peter exhaled, slowly. “It seems strange, indeed, but—”
“But your witness was mistaken.” She leaned back in her chair and lifted her eyes to the stories-tall ceiling. “Probably trying to collect an award for information or something. I’m surprised you’d be so easily duped.” She shot him a flat look. “But maybe I shouldn’t be.”
Peter’s throat bobbed, then he dropped his eyes.
Oh, brother. Was he really going to let this self-important trophy wife intimidate him?
I leaned forward, my elbows planted on my wide knees, then raised an arm. “It was me. I was the witness. And I wasn’t mistaken.”
Lady Amelie’s pale blue eyes swiveled to look at me. For just one tiny moment, they widened before she quickly narrowed them into a glare again. But that was all I needed to know I was right—and that she was lying. Why would she have been there in the first place, and why was she trying to hide it?
“I say again, you are mistaken. It wasn’t me.” Her nostrils flared as Daisy growled.
Peter tilted his head, eyes glued to her. “Do you have an alibi?”
“Certainly.” She sniffed. “But I’m summoning our lawyers before I say any more.”
I bit my thumbnail. Bet she was still with Pierre & Sons. The hacks. They’d always taken the most corrupt clients on—not that our firm hadn’t had our share back in the day, but the partners had made it a policy to not represent anyone who wanted us to lie and cheat for them. My stomach sank. I’d almost been one of them—the partners, that was.
I shook myself. If I didn’t think fast, she’d have her butler summon Pierre Sr. and we’d lose our chance to get information from her. I glanced at Peter, a deep crease between his brows. One of his fellow officers had found that note on the door telling Amelie to come on up to the office, signed by Bim.
I decided to play a hunch and hope the rest fell into place as I talked it through. “You’ve got a lot of money, right?”
Lady Amelie sneered at me. “How uncouth.” She rose and towered over us in those pointy stilettos. “I’m summoning our lawyers.” She spun and strode a few paces toward the back of the house.
“Why go see a nobody photographer in a seedy part of the Darkmoon Night Market? Hm?” I lifted my brows and gestured between Peter and me. “We know you were there to meet Bim.”
Amelie’s brows lowered, and her smirk flattened to a grim line. From somewhere down the hall, an old man with
