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“Why is that good?” Taavi wanted to know, a frown pulling at his brow.

“Because I’m guessing it means that he’s figured out that something there stinks, and that means that he might be willing to help figure out what happened to Gregory.”

“And Tara?”

“Hopefully. One at a time, though.”

“Did you hear back from Raj?” he asked.

“Just the text saying he was still working on it from last night.” I didn’t like the fact that I hadn’t gotten any answers from Raj or Kurtz, but if they were doing this as a favor to me, they probably still had to do their actual jobs, too. So I was trying to be patient.

Taavi hummed a little, the way he did when he was unsure or unhappy about something.

“What?” I asked him.

“Are you sure he wants to help? And not threaten you or… something?”

“We’re meeting at a coffee shop,” I answered. “So it’s a public place. I’m pretty sure he isn’t going to shoot me or kidnap me in the middle of a coffee shop.”

Smith also didn’t know I was an elf… probably. Unless he’d looked me up, which I’d certainly have done if I were in his shoes. The real question is what he thought about that, which I guessed I’d find out in about an hour.

“Are you going alone?” Taavi asked.

“Probably,” I answered. If Taavi really wanted to come with me, I’d let him, but I didn’t think Smith would be as forthcoming if there were someone else there. “I don’t think he’s expecting anyone else.”

Taavi didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t look terribly convinced. But at least he wasn’t arguing with me.

I leaned over and kissed his temple. “Will you pour the baking soda into the water for me? Slowly.”

He pushed away from the counter to grab the pre-measured cup of baking soda. “What do you think he actually wants?”

“Not sure,” I replied. “But I’m hoping there’s something about Gregory’s case thathenoticed isn’t right. I can’t imagine he’d want to talk to me about anything that didn’t involve Gregory’s death.”

I turned to see Taavi nodding as he carefully poured the baking soda into the water, letting the fizzing settle before adding more—just like you were supposed to.

“I mean, maybe he’s trying to warn me off or something, but I don’t think he knows I’ve been digging around.”

Taavi finished dumping the baking soda into the water and stepped away to let me start dropping the rolls in to boil. “Just... be careful. Okay?”

“I will.” I waited the necessary amount of time, then fished out the first few rolls and put them on parchment-lined baking sheets.

“Promise me, Val.”

I turned and kissed his forehead before grabbing more rolls for the water bath. “I promise.”

* * *

Glas Coffeehouse was cute—alittle industrial granola for my taste, but the smell told me they knew how to make a good cup of coffee. Since I’d been living on drip of questionable quality for two weeks, I allowed myself to splurge on a caramel latte and, since I apparently needed the calories, a locally-made cheese danish.

The only people in the café already were two women, a college-age kid with a laptop, and a pale, thin, wiry guy with reddish-brown windswept-looking hair who looked like an artist or journalist type—probably just pushing thirty and better-looking than he knew what to do with. Everybody was well spread out—per post-pandemic dining guidelines—so most folks were sipping or nibbling without masks on, although the café had provided little hooks on the edges of the tables to hang ear-straps from, and there were several suspended from their owners’ tables.

Judging by the roughness of his voice, I was looking for a middle-aged guy, probably going a little grey, maybe inclined to drink a little too much or have the occasional weekly cigarette.

The auburn-haired guy stood up and walked toward me, and I blinked, surprised at the intensity of the expression in his blue eyes before he spoke. “Mr. Hart?”

Well, shit.Thiswas the hard-boiled detective on the phone? The voice was the same, but holy shit was it weird coming out of this guy’s mouth.

“Detective Smith?” is what came out of mine.