Хармони Харт - Basic Witch

“Forgive me. I wasn’t thinking. Of course you aren’t comfortable inviting a strange man into the place where you just found a dead body. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

“Thanks for understanding,” I said. “We could talk out here, though. I’m waiting for someone, but he’s seems to be running a bit late.”

“I assume you’ve heard about my disagreement with Morty,” he said.

“A bit, yes. I was actually planning to come talk to you about that. What were you arguing about?”

“Morty has been pressing me for a better deal on my magical herbs,” he said. “But my prices are already as low as they can go without cutting into my ability to pay the workers a living wage.” He shrugged. “Morty threatened me, saying he’d stop buying from me and bring his supply in from Avalon instead. Which would be fine for him. He could buy from any supplier he chose. But I’m under strict contract not to sell magical goods to anyone but Morty. And now, you, I suppose.”

“That must have made you really angry,” I said.

“It did,” he admitted. “And I’m not a man who angers easily. But I also don’t believe Morty would have followed through with his threats. The logistics of importing goods from Avalon alone are enough to drive a man mad.”

“I don’t know how I’d react if someone threatened to ruin my business,” I pressed.

“I know what you’re thinking. But I didn’t kill Mortimer Montcrief.”

“Where were you at the time of the murder?”

“I spent the afternoon at home, napping. We harvest our magical herbs beneath the light of the full moon, and I wanted to be well-rested.”

“Can anyone account for your whereabouts?”

“Any member of my household staff,” he said. “You’re welcome to speak to any of them.”

“How about someone who’s not on your payroll?”

“No. Just me and the staff.” Clarence gazed at me thoughtfully. “No wife or girlfriend. In case you were wondering.”

“Thanks for clearing that up,” I said with a small smile. “I want to believe you.” And I really, really did. The idea that a man as breathtakingly beautiful, and by all accounts, as kind, as Clarence Hakim could murder an old man just didn’t sit well with me. But that didn’t mean he was innocent. “What happens with your contract with Morty now that he’s dead?”

“You’d think it would be considered null and void,” he said. “But Coven contracts don’t work like that. They don’t expire on death. The rights outlined in the contract pass to the rightful heir—at the moment that’s you, but it may eventually be Mason—and the same guidelines stay in place unless new terms are negotiated.”

“I see.” If Clarence couldn’t guarantee he’d secured a contractual win after Morty’s death, what would be the point in killing him?

“I can see why my last encounter with Morty would cast suspicion on me,” he said, “But his death has created more complications for my business, not fewer. I’m now faced with mounting uncertainty over whether I’ll even be able to sell my crops to anyone. I can afford the legal fees to sort through all of this, but I can’t afford to waste time in doing so. Are you open to renegotiating my deal with Morty?”

“Yes,” I offered. “But I’ll need some time to study the business before I can make an educated decision. In the meantime, why don’t we assume that I can continue to buy from you as the same prices as before? If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”

“Perhaps,” he began, taking my hands in his, as he inclined his head toward mine, “we can discuss it over dinner?” His pale blue eyes, accented by occasional flecks of gold that shined like the desert sun, fixed on mine, staring so intently I thought he might be peeking into my soul.

“Discuss what over dinner?” At the sounds of Beau’s voice, I snapped back to reality.

Clarence straightened, releasing my hands with a sultry smile. “Our relationship.”

“Oh?” Beau arched an eyebrow, smiling at me through slightly clenched teeth. “That was fast.” “Our business relationship,” I clarified. Beau’s jaw relaxed a bit, and he inched toward me.

“Sorry I’m late,” Beau said. “Minor magic emergency back at the College. Are you ready for lunch?” He held up a basket filled with a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread, and a selection of meat, cheese, and fruit.

“Sure,” I said. “Meet you inside?”

He frowned, glancing at Clarence and then back at me. Clarence seemed nonplussed, so I took a cue from the jinn and smiled calmly back at Beau, which only seemed to fluster him more. After a few moments of deliberation, he went inside.

“Apologies,” Clarence offered once Beau closed the door. “I didn’t realize you were involved.”

“I’m not,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I mean, I’m his student. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“You strike me as a woman worth breaking a few rules over,” he said. “I accept the terms offered regarding the purchase of magical herbs from my plantation. But my dinner invitation stands.”

“Can I think about it?”

“I certainly hope you will,” he said. He kissed my hand once more. As he withdrew his fingertips from mine, the lower half of his body was enveloped in a dark blue swirling mist—what I imagined was his true jinn form—and he vanished into the sky.

11

What was that all about?” Beau asked. He had spread our lunch out across a picnic blanket on top of the bed—the one clean place in the whole apartment—and we had just finished eating a mostly silent meal. I sat across from him, feeling mildly contrite about my attraction to Clarence, even though I knew I had nothing to feel guilty about.

Well, not much at least. Purposely stirring up a bit of jealousy in Beau may have given me a thrill, but it wasn’t the most mature way to behave.

“Clarence? He came by to talk about his contract with Morty,” I explained. Honesty worked just fine here. “I took the opportunity to chat with him about their argument, and ask him a few questions about where he was when Morty was killed.” I studied his reaction as I sipped from my wine glass.

Beau’s expression gave away nothing, much to my chagrin. “What do you think?”

“I don’t think he did it,” I said. “Because he’s too attractive to be a murderer?” Beau asked.

“What? No!” I said, my pitch going up an octave. Way to play it cool, Gemma. “He seemed like he was telling the truth about his disagreement with Morty, and he has an alibi. Of course, I haven’t had a chance to confirm it yet, but I believe him.”

Beau poured another glass of wine and sat back against the headboard, watching me. “So what now?”

“I still think Mason Montcrief is the most likely suspect,” I said. “I need to talk to him.”

“He’s been busy planning Morty’s funeral,” Beau said. “But I’ll ask him to come by tonight.”

“While you’re here, right?”

“Of course.” He eased himself off the bed and started gathering the remnants of our lunch. “I need to get back to class.” “Please,” I said. “Let me clean up. It’s the least I can do after you fed me.” “I won’t argue.”

“And Gemma?”

“Yeah?”

His gaze traveled the length of my body and came to rest on my mouth for a brief instant. Finally, he met my eyes. “You look spectacular.”

“Beau,” I warned. “You probably shouldn’t say things like that if…”

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. But I couldn’t let it go unsaid. Gil will stop by to escort you to the Chief’s office in a couple of hours. Keep the door locked until then?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”