“Tell me.”
“There was another person with her. He didn’t get a good look, because they were wearing a large hoodie, but he thinks they were young from the way they walked.”
I leaned back in my seat. “Unless Luciana had hidden talents, she couldn’t have killed Pete with her magic. Not if she was a true halcyon.”
He nodded. “Whoever was with her is likely the killer.”
“If so, why did they leave Dr. Giordano alive? He saw them.”
Alessandro smiled. “Hubris.”
Luciana had been a Prime. She’d dealt with other Primes on a daily basis. Her entire political career revolved around mages, and Dr. Giordano was an ordinary person. She never considered him a threat because in normal circumstances he never would be. An experienced combat magic user would’ve eliminated all witnesses, but Luciana wasn’t used to getting her hands dirty. She walked right past Dr. Giordano, because she was so conditioned to ignore people like him, he might as well have been invisible.
We had to get him out of the city. “Where is Dr. Giordano now?”
“On vacation with his lovely spouse,” Alessandro said. “On the Warden’s dime. I’ve explained the situation to him. He’s onboard.”
I really loved this man.
A dark thought zinged through my brain. “She had a young person with her, Pete was killed by someone with unusual magic, and Kaylee hasn’t taken the trials.”
“Interesting, isn’t it?” Alessandro said.
If House Cabera killed Pete and hurt Linus, I would make them pay.
“I have so many questions.” I tapped my fingers on the dashboard in front of me. “Why would Luciana want to hurt Linus? Why would Arkan have her killed? Did Kaylee help her mother end Pete’s life or was it one of Arkan’s assassins? If it was one of Arkan’s people, did he somehow force Luciana to help him gain access to Linus and did he kill her after they botched it?”
“Let’s go ask them.” Alessandro popped his door open. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
He got out of the car to open my door.
Normally I opened my own door unless I was wearing a gown that required management, but right now we were on display and Alessandro was in his Count Sagredo persona. He switched identities like gloves, and he was always flawlessly consistent once he assumed them. Today he wore khaki trousers, a crisp white T-shirt, and a seersucker blazer unbuttoned, with the sleeves casually rolled back to mid forearm. His shoes were blue Santoni loafers, his shades were Trussardi, and if you searched the Internet for “young Italian Prime,” you’d see his picture. Probably several of them.
Kaylee was twenty-two, like me. Alessandro was the god of our adolescence, and his Instagram was the altar on which all of us prayed. I was no longer in love with that fantasy. I preferred a different Alessandro, the one who plotted like a Borgia, neutralized his enemies before they knew what hit them, and woke me up in the middle of the night to do things that made me blush when he mentioned them later. But Kaylee wasn’t me.
Alessandro held out his hand. I rested my fingers in his and stepped out of the car. We strode up the three wide stairs, my beige pumps clicking quietly on the concrete. Today Alessandro was the star, and I opted for understated navy slacks, a navy silk blouse with small beige and white flowers on it, and a matching jacket with three-quarter sleeves. My makeup was natural bordering on plain, and my hair was gathered into a loose knot. Everything about me was perfectly presentable and designed to fade into the background.
The thick mahogany door swung open before either of us could ring the bell revealing a solemn-looking man dressed in black. His features echoed Luciana’s, but he was slightly younger, his skin a darker shade of brown, and his hair liberally salted with grey. Julian Cabera, Luciana’s younger brother.
“We’ve been expecting you,” he said.
“My deepest condolences,” Alessandro said, his face broadcasting sincerity.
“Thank you.” He held out his hand toward the house. “Please.”
The interior of the house was a warm shade of white, complementing the travertine floor. We followed Julian left, through a thick archway past a luxurious powder room into a study paneled in rich, warm walnut. Built-in bookcases lined the walls between large arched windows. A vintage Moroccan rug decorated the dark brown floor. At the far end of the room, an elegant desk stood, the chair behind it glaringly empty. On the left a large fireplace took up half of the wall, and in the center of the room four people sat on the plush beige sofas and overstuffed chairs arranged around a coffee table.
Agent Wahl and a woman in a beige suit sat facing the fireplace. The woman was about his age, with tawny, warm skin, shoulder-length brown hair pushed behind her ear on the left side, and brown eyes. A tiny transparent plastic tube protruded from her ear, barely visible. A hearing aid. As far as I knew, the FBI had strict medical requirements. An agent with hearing loss had to be exceptional to be admitted.
Across from the two FBI agents, an older man and a young woman sat on the other sofa, both in black. The man looked like an older version of Julian: same nose, same mouth, same worried look in his eyes, but with a longer, leaner build. His hair, cropped short, had gone grey. Elias Cabera.
Next to him, Kaylee Cabera sat rigid, her spine perfectly straight. She was slender, with a heart-shaped face, large eyes under strong eyebrows, and full lips. Her skin was the same warm brown shade as her mother’s, but she’d bleached her hair to champagne blond, a beautiful color with multi-tonal highlights that looked perfectly natural. The hair framed her face in loose waves. She’d taken the time to style it. She’d also put on makeup, not just a brush of mascara, but her entire face complete with deep plum lipstick that looked almost mahogany on her lips. It could’ve meant any number of things, but her eyes told me exactly what it was—defiance. Kaylee Cabera refused to be broken, and she dared anyone to try her.
Everyone except Kaylee rose as we walked in. Kaylee glanced up and saw Alessandro. Her eyes widened. For a second, she forgot to look angry and just stared.
Yes, I know exactly what that feels like.
Wahl’s eyes narrowed. The female FBI agent next to him glanced at Kaylee, then at Alessandro. They’d read the room.
“My deepest apologies,” Alessandro murmured, his Italian accent light and refined. “We arrived as soon as we could.”
“You’re just in time,” Wahl assured him. He turned to the family. “This is Alessandro Sagredo, Prime antistasi, and Catalina Baylor of House Baylor. They will be consulting on this case due to its sensitive nature. Just to remind everyone, I am Agent Wahl, and this is Agent Garcia. Once again, this interview is being recorded.”
“Please, sit down,” Elias invited.
We sat in two overstuffed chairs. Alessandro was on my left, closer to Elias and Kaylee. She was still looking at him, and she had adjusted her pose, resting her right arm on the sofa arm to open up her body, crossing her legs, and presenting him with a flattering angle. I might have been invisible. Perfect. I sent the tendrils of my magic forward ever so gently.
Agent Wahl launched into the standard list of questions. Did Luciana have any enemies? Did she have romantic partners? What was her relationship with everyone present? Were there any recent difficulties?
Elias had taken the lead on answering. Kaylee answered only when directly spoken to and every time she opened her mouth, Alessandro offered her an encouraging smile.
My magic had skimmed the surface of Elias’ mind. He didn’t notice. He felt like a typical halcyon. Halcyons were crowd control mages. Like me, they couldn’t afford to allow magic leakage, so they kept an iron grip on their emotions, accreting a mental shield that encased their psyche. Their minds appeared opaque and hard, almost like pearls inside an oyster’s shell.