Page 83 of The Darkest Chase
Business.
That comes first and apparently last.
I try to calm my fluttery insides but it’s like my pulse is on fire. I take a sip of the cool drink just to focus on something else before I speak again.
“A lot of things. I talked to Joseph Peters alone, very briefly. He knew the woman who died there last year. Cora Lafayette, right? He said she treated him like family, and he’s clearly still bitter about it.”
“He might be open to turning the tables on the people responsible for her death, then. And since Aleksander isn’t around, Xavier could be the next best thing.”
“Maybe,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t know. I feel like I upset him. He might not want anything to do with us.”
“You’d be surprised what revenge will push you to do, Talia.”
Micah would know, wouldn’t he?
I lick my lips, catching a few stray grains of sugar.
“There’s something else. When I got to Xavier’s office, he was sniffing my scarf—the one I forgot there the other day.” Micah’s head whips toward me, his eyes narrowing as I rush on. “And, um, he had a little silver tray with a business card on it. I swear there were a few streaks of white powder. I think he was high. His eyes were odd and really jittery.”
“Rewind,” Micah snaps. “He was sniffing your scarf? What the fuck?”
I wince. “…y-yeah. He said my perfume smelled like flowers and he was trying to figure out which ones so he could keep them in the house. I told him I don’t wear perfume.”
“Go on.” Micah’s brows twitch dangerously. “What else did he say?”
I swallow thickly.
“That it must be my own natural scent. Gross, I know. I kind of zoned out because I was a little freaked.”
“That fucking man is lucky I don’t slit his throat.”
I do a double take.
He says it so calmly, so matter-of-factly, like it’s just an everyday thing to contemplate brutally killing a man over insulting a girl he barely knows.
I stare at him and he stares back, fierce and sharp as a blade. Then he lets out a ragged sigh and looks away.
“Relax. I’m not looking for prison time.”
“Oh, I wasn’t— I didn’t—” Oh God. I’m dizzy, and I take a quick gulp of my drink just to steady myself. “You know that woman we saw camping? The one with the Jacobins?”
“What about her?” Micah immediately sharpens.
“She was there.” It’s easier to focus on hard facts and not how I suddenly feel very vulnerable in the gold-tinted darkness of Micah’s den in this pretty little dress with him so close. It’s not a bad feeling. I kinda like the strange thrill of it, but it still makes me nervous so I just ramble to distract myself. “The tall one in the old-fashioned dress? The mean-looking one? When Xavier walked me out, I saw her hanging around the front foyer behind the door. She stared at me the entire time. It was really creepy. Like she was mad at me.”
“More like marking you,” Micah growls. “That’s something, all right. I’ve never seen Xavier Arrendell and the Jacobins together with my own eyes. You just did. She’s probably relying on the fact that you won’t recognize her, but hell…”
“I’m a witness to the link.” I swallow. “But I don’t recognize her, besides seeing her that night. I don’t even know her.”
“Eustace,” Micah answers grimly. “Eustace Jacobin, Ephraim Jacobin’s wife. Mother of the late Culver Jacobin and a mess of other kids. I’ve long suspected she’s the real brains behind their entire operation.”
“Huh?” I stare. “I didn’t even know Ephraim had a wife. I’ve seen the Jacobins lurking around my whole life and I’ve never seen her.”
“For good reason,” he replies. His expression is a cold mask, dark with loathing. “You can’t arrest her if you barely know she exists. She hides in the shadows, pulling strings with clever fingers. A black widow.”
He leans close to me until our knees bump with Rolf trapped between us, so intensely near that I squeak.
Embarrassing.