I didn’t know why she was still trying to stick to her story. The truth was going to come out in the next minute, two tops. I supposed Violet just wanted to spare her grandfather the ugly details about what had been done to her last night. Most people tended to block out things like that. Sometimes I wished I could do the same, instead of dwelling on the past the way I always did.

“I called the college, Eva again, and all your other friends I could remember. Nobody had seen you since last night,” Warren replied in a curt tone. “Do you know how worried I was about you? With everything that’s been going on? So I called Donovan to report you missing.”

I eyed Caine. So that’s what the detective was doing here. And from Warren’s use of his first name, it sounded like the two of them knew each other. The detective saw me looking and shrugged his lean shoulders.

Violet cringed again, and Warren opened his mouth to tear into his granddaughter some more for worrying him.

But I cut him off.

“Enough. Violet didn’t come home last night because someone tried to kill her.”

That shut him up. Warren’s mouth fell open, and he just stared at me. So did Donovan Caine. Violet shifted on her feet. Finn leaned against one of the coolers.

Amusement filled his bright green eyes.

“Now that I have your attention,” I said. “Let me tell you exactly what happened last night.”

———

The five of us ended up on the store’s wide front porch. I sat on the porch railing and leaned against one of the columns that supported the sloping tin roof. Finn was in a similar position across from me. Donovan Caine slouched on the steps between us, while Warren T. Fox and Violet rocked back and forth in two of the old-fashioned chairs.

“And there you have it,” I said, wrapping up my tale.

“That’s why Violet didn’t come home last night. Because she was a little busy getting her face put back together by an Air elemental. Her name’s Jo-Jo Deveraux. You might know her.”

Warren stared at me, his dark eyes narrowed and thoughtful. His gaze cut to Finn, then back to me. Thinking about something—or rather someone. Fletcher Lane.

“Let me get this straight, Gin,” Donovan Caine said.

“Violet went to the restaurant looking for some guy who called himself the Tin Man. Then someone shot up the Pork Pit, but you backtracked the shooter and realized he was aiming at Violet. So you used her credit card receipt to hack into her personal information and find her at Ashland Community College.

“Actually, that was me, detective,” Finn said. “The only thing Gin knows how to hack into is warm bodies.”