Xiu shrugged. “Li Fan’s orders. Perhaps it was meant to prevent any intellectual property theft before the debut of the new line last evening.”
A concern over IP theft? That was rich, coming from a sweatshop making the fakes. I couldn’t understand how she was fooling Daisy, though. Then again, I wouldn’t put it past the dog to side with the woman just to spite me.
We followed Xiu out into the hallway, and as soon as the door swung shut behind us, it disappeared again. We strode back to the production floor, and I climbed the ringing metal steps behind her and Peter to Li Fan’s office on the second floor.
Inside, cops bustled about, bagging evidence and taking photographs, their camera flashes going off every few seconds. Several looked up as we entered and nodded their hellos at Peter. A green leather couch leaned against the wall of windows that looked out over the factory floor, though with the curtains drawn, we couldn’t see much at the moment. A huge, cluttered desk stood in the center of the room, with filing cabinets and packed shelves lining the walls.
Huge webs, with silky strands as thick as my finger, stretched across the ceiling and tops of the walls. I had an idea who’d made those. I shuddered as I imagined working with a huge spider crawling about overhead.
Xiu shuffled to the messy desk, littered with fabric swatches, glowing bottles of potions, and memos. She rifled through some papers, then looked around the room, her brow pinched. She fingered one of the gold chains at her neck.
“Your officers must have already taken them.”
Peter cleared his throat and spoke loudly. “Has anyone seen any designs? Moved any to evidence yet?”
The half dozen cops shook their heads.
“Nothing’s left the room yet, Flint.” The guy grimaced. “Except the body of course.”
Peter nodded his thanks, and the officers went back to their tasks. He crossed his thick arms and stared down at Xiu, who set her jaw.
“I’m telling you—they were right there on Li Fan’s desk before I took my break.” Her nostrils flared as she stared at the spot where the plans should’ve been. Or so she claimed.
Peter tilted his head to the side. “Do you remember seeing them when you discovered Li Fan’s body?”
The older woman’s face grew still. “No. I don’t remember.”
Daisy wagged her tail. Another truth from Xiu.
Peter let out a heavy sigh. “Alright.” He sounded reluctant. “We’ll let you continue operations for now, but I’ll be looking into this further.”
Xiu glared but bowed her head.
Peter took his leave, and we jogged back downstairs and headed for the exit. Peter leaned close and dropped his voice. “This sweatshop’s making fake House of Hahn bags and the owner’s killed the same night the designer dies.” He flashed his eyes at me. “Just a coincidence?”
I smirked and shoved my hands into my pockets. “Doubtful.”
Peter nodded. “We’d better go look into it.”
“We?” I lifted a brow.
He nudged me with his shoulder. “I hire you by the case, remember? You’re not done with me yet.”
I gave him a half-grin, though something about his tone irked me. He’d said this the last time we worked a case, too. And though I’d certainly been instrumental in catching the killer, it’d had little to do with my ability to speak to animals. A lingering doubt nagged at me—was I just a pity case to him?
I glanced up at Peter as we left the sweatshop and stepped back out into the dirty streets of the Darkmoon District.
“You know, I appreciate the gig and all….” I set my jaw. “But if you don’t actually need my services….” I shrugged. “Thanks, but no thanks, to your charity.” If I didn’t need Ludolf Caterwaul’s help, I certainly didn’t need Peter’s.
He startled and turned to me, wide-eyed. Bright neon lights from signs overhead lit up his face. “What? No!” He shook his head. “I was kidding. I mean…” He splayed his big hands. “I may have noticed you were in need of rent money when I first hired you.”
I sniffed. Yeah, hard not to notice. My landlady, the Dragon, had been standing right there and garnished my wages.
“But you’re a huge asset! Of course I want you here.” He grinned at me, though his eyes stayed pinched, searching my face. “And even if I was trying to help you, a little….” He shrugged. “We all need help sometimes, right?”
I licked my lips. I felt slightly better… but still not convinced. “Yeah. I get it. You like helping people.” Of course he did—he was mister honesty and good manners.
He frowned, and I looked away when he tried to catch my eye. I kept my gaze hard on the shining streets ahead of us, shoppers bustling about.
“That’s not what I meant. Jolene?”
I didn’t respond. My chest burned, and I didn’t trust myself not to spew some sharp retort.
He let out a heavy sigh. “Listen… yes, I like to help people, but only because I got help when I really needed it.”
I crossed my arms and sniffed. “Did you break a nail once?”
There was a long moment of silence, the only sound our feet clipping along the cobblestones and Daisy’s huffing breath.
“My family life was… rough, growing up. My dad would get drunk and angry and—” He sighed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “And he’d take it out on me and my mom. Officer Jack Monteperre….”
I glanced up at his bittersweet grin. His eyes were far away until he caught me looking and his smile widened into a genuine one.
“He saved my mom and when I told him I wanted to be like him when I grew up, he took me under his wing.” He shrugged. “If it weren’t for him, I don’t know where I’d be, but it certainly wouldn’t be on the force.”
I gulped, my throat tight. Wow. That was so… real. Too real. I rolled my shoulder.
I’d had help like that once. A woman who
