Page 80 of Winter Lost
“I’m glad you think so,” I told him rather than agreeing.
“We should talk more about Gary,” Liam said. “But you have caught me in the middle of making breakfast, so talk will have to wait. The house is serving eggs, bacon, and pancakes today. Or I can whip up something special if you wish?”
“No need to make anything special. Breakfast sounds lovely,” I told him, carefully avoiding anything that would put us in his debt.
Liam smiled (again) in appreciation of my considered wording, and this time his expression was more than a little sly. I found myself wanting to like him, and had to remind myself that he wasn’t Uncle Mike. He was our host and he’d abide by the guesting laws, but that didn’t make him our friend.
“It is no trouble at all,” he said. “Food will be out shortly. Pray take a seat wherever you like.”
As if he had already made his calculations, Adam led us to the hikers’ table without hesitation. I would have chosen the Heddars’ so I could ask Dylis about the music she heard in the walls.
But the hikers’ sudden appearance in this remote location had made them top candidates for most likely suspects, even before I’d known they were fae. I couldn’t argue with Adam’s decision. It was good I was happy, because the hikers were unhappy enough for all of us.
Able stiffened when Adam pulled out a chair opposite Victoria and motioned for me to sit. As usual, Adam had chosen our seats strategically. Our backs were to the kitchen, but we had good views of all the people at the other two tables.
It was an unnecessary strategy, though, because everyone at Peter’s table rose when Adam and I sat down. As soon as the last of that group exited the room, the Heddars left, too. No one stopped to introduce themselves—just as they would not have had we been staying in a generic hotel under normal circumstances. That probably meant that no one realized just how bad the storm outside was.
The pair at our table started to get up and leave with everyone else. But Adam waved them back into their seats.
He was an Alpha—it hadn’t been a request. They sat back down, though I could tell that neither of them quite knew why.
“We met Elyna Gray last night,” Adam told them. “You must be the hikers that she mentioned—Able and Victoria. Not part of the wedding party.”
They didn’t respond.
“Able and Victoria,” Adam said. “Siblings and mountain climbers.”
“Yes,” Victoria said tightly.
“Goblin killer,” her brother hissed at Adam. “We’ve done nothing. Leave us alone.”
Adam hadn’t killed any goblins that I knew about—which would be anytime in the last decade. I hadn’t killed any goblins, either. I had led a team of pack members with the intention of confronting a fugitive goblin who had killed a human child. He’d ended up dead at the hands of the goblin king, but I’d been there, too. I would have killed that goblin if I’d had to.
I wondered what stories were going around that had Adam labeled as a goblin killer. Or maybe the question should be who was telling the stories.
Victoria’s hand shot to her brother’s knee, and he quit talking. Adam bumped me lightly with his shoulder. They were more worried about him. Adam thought I needed to be the one to talk to them.
Fair enough, I thought.
Elyna hadn’t known anything about them other than that they apparently made good money GoPro-ing themselves climbing mountains, then posting their adventures to social media.
I needed to find out who had the artifact so I could return it. I didn’t think arguing that Adam hadn’t killed any goblins was going to help with my main goal, so I set it aside.
A rather long silence had stretched out between us as I decided how to approach this. We were alone in the room, and that opened up a few possibilities.
“Nasty weather out there,” I said to Victoria, ignoring her brother. “Do you know what caused it?”
“A low-pressure system bringing in arctic air?” she answered. She had a death grip on her brother. “Are you some kind of meteorologist?”
I’d hoped for a more direct answer. Questions were neither truth nor lies.
“No,” I said. “I’m a mechanic. But I know why this storm is going to keep going for a while.”
The timing was right for them to have been involved with the theft. For the first time I wondered if my brother had really been the thief. I’d just accepted Hrímnir’s assessment. It didn’t make sense that he’d stolen the artifact, left it here, then run to me.
Goblins were excellent thieves, and this pair knew about mountains in winter. If I had to pick someone to go rob a frost giant, this pair would be a very good choice. They had enough magic to slip in and out of locked places, but not so much that they drew attention. They had opportunity, and possibly the means for the theft.
As for motive…