Which is why I had Finn make some discreet inquiries into the matter. Jonah McAllister was said to be seething with rage over the murder of his son—and the fact the incident had taken place at Mab Monroe’s mansion. McAllister had vowed to find his son’s killer and take care of her himself—with his bare hands. Mab Monroe was also said to be livid at the fact someone had dared to murder her lawyer’s son in her own home.

Mab was also said to be quietly searching for a blond hooker who’d attended her party and had been seen leaving with Tobias Dawson. According to Finn, the Fire elemental had sent Elliot Slater and a couple of his giant goons to question Roslyn Phillips about the mysterious hooker. But Slater had eventually been satisfied that the invitation and rune necklace had been stolen from Northern Aggression without Roslyn’s knowledge. Still, I had Finn wire Roslyn a significant amount of money to help make up for what I was sure had been a forceful interview.

And I still wondered about that night at the party and why Mab hadn’t just killed me herself when I’d been knocked out cold on the ground in front of her. It would have been easy enough for her to do. Why make Dawson do it? Why make him take me somewhere else? Had Mab known he would take me to the mine? Maybe she’d thought I’d kill Dawson for her, and she could step in and have all the diamonds for herself. It wouldn’t have been a bad plan, if I hadn’t collapsed the whole mountain in the process.

I didn’t know the Fire elemental’s reasoning, and I’d never believed much in luck. But I knew that I’d dodged my own death that night. But now she was actively searching for me, and I had no illusions about what would happen if she ever discovered my real identity.

The fact was I’d have to be more careful for the foreseeable future—at least until someone else caught Mab Monroe’s interest.

———

Two weeks after the incident at the mine, I perched on my stool at the Pork Pit reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. Fletcher’s copy of Where the Red Fern Grows adorned the wall beside the cash register, of course, but it had been joined by something new—the picture of him and Warren T. Fox. I think Fletcher would have liked having it in the restaurant.