“It’s going to take me a week to grow my damn wing back. Matalina is gonna kill me. Everyone hides from me when I can’t fly. Did you know that? Even my kids.”

I tuned him out. The tirade had started the moment they released him and hadn’t quit yet. Though Jenks hadn’t been charged with a crime—seeing as he’d been at the ceiling cheering Ivy on while she pummeled the FIB officers—he had insisted on poking about where he shouldn’t until they put him in an emptied water jug.

I was beginning to see what Edden had been talking about. He and his officers hadn’t a clue as to how to handle Inderlanders. They could have trapped him in a cupboard or drawer as he nosed about. His wings never would have gotten wet and become as fragile as tissue paper. The ten-minute chase with a net wouldn’t have happened. And half the officers on the floor wouldn’t have been pixed. Ivy and Jenks had come to the FIB willingly, and they still ended up leaving a trail of chaos. What a violent, uncooperative Inderlander might do was frightening.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Nick said loud enough for Edden in the front to hear. “Why is Mr. Kalamack padding his pocket with illegal gains? He’s already independently wealthy.”

Edden turned halfway around in his seat, his khaki nylon jacket sliding. He had a yellow FIB hat on, the only sign of his authority. “He must be funding a project he doesn’t want to be found. Money is hard to trace when it’s gotten from illegal means and spent on the same.”

I wondered what it was. Something more going on in Faris’s lab, perhaps?

The FIB captain brought his thick hand to his chin, his round face lit by the cars behind us. “Mr. Sparagmos,” he questioned, “have you ever taken the ferry tour of the waterfront?”

Nick’s face went still. “Sir?”

Edden shook his head. “It’s the damnedest thing. I’m sure I’ve seen you before.”

“No,” Nick said, easing back into the corner of the seat. “I don’t like boats.”

Making a small sound, Edden turned back around in his seat. I exchanged a knowing look with Jenks. The small pixy made a sly face, catching on faster than I had. My empty bag of peanuts crumpled noisily, and I tucked it in my bag, not about to throw it onto the clean floor. Nick was shadowed and closed, the dim light from oncoming motorists blurring his sharp nose and thin face. Leaning close, I whispered, “What did you do?”

His eyes remained fixed out the window, his chest rising and falling in a smooth breath. “Nothing.”

I glanced at the back of Edden’s head. Yeah, right. And I’m the I.S. poster girl. “Look. I’m sorry I got you into this. If you want to just walk away when we get to the airport, I’ll understand.” On second thought, I didn’t want to know what he had done.