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Chapter 8

Rowan

As soon as she sees me her eyes go comically wide. Her eyes are a different color today though…red like everything else in this place. It makes her look like a sinful daughter of the devil or some shit like that. I’m not poetic by any means, so excuse my lack of colorful descriptors.

Her dark hair is curled and lying against her shoulders and down her back. She’s wearing a corset dress again, but the skirt part is flowy and it’s all red. My sister passes her and she breaks eye contact with me to stamp her and Brent’s hand. When it’s my turn she glances around and then moves closer to me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She hisses. “If anyone recognizes you…”

“I have a plan,” I tell her and pull out the mask I brought from my back pocket.

It's a red devil mask and slide it over my face. “See?”

She shakes her head. “What are you doing here?” She asks again with a little less annoyance and fear.

“Undercover. I need to feel out the suspects to see who has a motive.” I whisper to her.

We’re close now and the urge to reach out and wrap one of her curls around my finger is so strong that my hand twitches.

“No one is going to talk to you. Even if they don’t know you’re a cop, we can’t talk about what goes on here.” She tells me and I see that look in her eyes again.

I can’t tell if she means they won’t talk or they physically can’t. Is someone threatening them not to talk?

I feel pulled into those dark eyes and move closer to her. “I can be very persuasive.”

She raises a brow at me. “Really? I don’t think even you can persuade them, cop boy.” Her eyes move over my costume and she smirks. “No matter how…hot…you look. Have a good night.”

She steps back and sits back down on her chair behind the podium. I want to stay close to her, but I have work to do. As much as I want to think she isn’t involved she’s a suspect too until I can rule her out, so spending more time with her will only muddle my mind more. Except all my instincts are telling me that she will be more of an asset than a problem unless we’re talking about me. She could be a very big problem for me.

“Who’s that?” My sister asks when I finally catch up to them at the bar.

“Someone I interviewed about the case. She seems to think that I won’t get much out of anyone here.” I tell her hoping she didn’t notice the weird energy that passed between me and the mystery girl.

The smirk on her face says she isn’t buying my shit for a second. “Right, and the flirty smiling and standing too close for proprieties sake is normal?”

“Proprieties sake? Are we in a Jane Austen book or some shit?” Bent asks with a chuckle.

She gives him a side-eye. “Anyway. You’re totally into her!” She tilts her head and looks the girl over. “I mean she’s hot so I can see why, but isn’t she a suspect?”

“She is, but I don’t think she has anything to do with it. I don’t get the feeling she would kill someone, but she knows something.” I explain.

“Right. Well, she doesn’t look like she’s in a position to talk now. Maybe try some of these other weirdos. This place is between a circus and the Mad Hatter's tea party or something. It’s bizarre.” She isn’t wrong.

It looks like Alice in Wonderland, a burlesque club and a circus got together and had a baby. The walls are covered in a black and white checkered pattern, and red velvet fabric drapes everywhere. In the center is a giant chandelier with golden rose details along the arms of the chandelier making it look like a garden starting to burn. I can’t say I’ve seen anything like it. There is also a hallway off to the side, and from what I can see from here there are doors running along both sides. I wonder where they lead.

“Hey folks what’s your poison?” I’m startled by the voice and when I turn to look at him I see a family face.

His pale hair under a bright red top hat sort of gives him away. He smiles wickedly at us like he has horrible plans for us in the form of whatever drink he’s about to mix for us. One good thing is he doesn’t seem to recognize me.

“Yeah, I’ll have the tea party.” My sister says while she looks over the menu some more. “Bent?”

“Give me a whiskey neat.” He says without looking at the odd bartender.

Said bartender chuckles. “Sorry, sir we don’t carry whiskey here.”

Bent looks at him like he’s an alien from another planet, but the way this guy acts and looks I could agree with him.

“Then what do you have?” Bent asks sounding fucking done with all of this already.

“Everything you see here, but not everything is as you see it.” The hat guy says with a smile.

“What the fuck are you talking about man?” Bent snaps.

The guy doesn’t look rattled at all but the huge guy priming up to slug him.

“How about I make you a house specialty?” The guy offers.

“Whatever.” Bent waves him off and turns his back to the guy to watch the show on stage.

A show that looks to be similar to a magic show, but with a lot more provocative movements. The girl is wearing a barely-there red outfit that has some sort of cat tail coming from the top of her thong. The guy…I also recognize as the one who sounded like he purred while he talked. He has a headband with cat ears that look far too real. I’m not sure what sort of tricks they are meant to be performing, but the crowd seems impressed. Although from the looks of it, some of them have been here a while and are already pretty sloshed.

“And for you?” The bartender asks and an elbow to the ribs from Maddy makes me realize he’s talking to me.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having.” I point to Maddy.

I have zero intentions of drinking tonight but I’ll blend in better with a drink in my hand.

“As you wish!” He says and I focus on the stage again when the crowd erupts with clapping and cheers.

The sound of clinking catches my attention and I turn back to see the hat guy pouring liquid from tea kettles into two shakers. Then he grabs what looks like a sugar pot and drops a cube in each shaker.

“What the fuck?” I say to myself as I watch him pour what looks like heavy cream or milk in next.

Is he making…tea?

Once he’s done he adds some ice and covers the shakers. He shakes the drinks well and takes out three tea cups and sets them on the bar. Then he pours the drinks out, but instead of seeing a tea-like mixture there are three colorful drinks.

“As ordered! Make sure to hold up your pinky, that’s the proper way to drink it.” He says before moving down the bar to another pair of patrons.

“Did you see-“

“Yep.”

“How?”

“No clue,” I tell my sister.

She shrugs and throws the whole drink back like it’s a shot and does a shiver.

“Strong, but sweet.” She says with a hum of approval. “Excuse me! Can I get another one of these please?”

The hat guy lifts said hat and bows at his waist like a gentleman. My sister chuckles and Bent gives me a confused look over her head. I shrug because hell if I know what’s going on in her head. He takes a sip of his drink, and I have to say it’s hilarious seeing his meaty hands try to grip the dainty teacup handle. His eyes go suddenly wide and he looks in the cup like he isn’t sure what he just tasted.

“What the fuck?”

“What’s wrong?” I ask him.

“It’s whiskey.” He says with wide-eyed confusion.

It would be a fucking hilarious look on him if I wasn’t so confused by what he just said. I hadn’t planned on drinking but I lift my cup to my face and sniff it. It smells like…tea. So how could it taste like whiskey? My curiosity gets the better of me and I lift the cup to my lips. My lips brush the rim for a split second and I only get a drop on my tongue before I feel an arm wrap around my waist. A warm body is at my back and another hand rests on my hip.

“Don’t.” A feminine voice says.

I look over my shoulder to see her. When did she get here? Not that it matters because every part of my body that she is touching burns like a delicious fire. Not one of pain, but of pure pleasure.

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