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“Some eight months now. It started with just the regular, and he came around for a month or two before bringing a friend or two along for the ride. Last week, he brought in a group of three.”
“Can you get me photographs of those three cops?”
“I absolutely can, but not of our regular. He asked us nicely not to. I told him I would respect that unless evidence pointed at him. He had laughed and agreed, so I will get you pictures of the three new ones.”
“That’s fair.” If I found something suspicious about the regular, I’d figure out his pattern and crash one of the dinners, which would likely be at the tavern down the street, the upscale restaurant four doors over, or within the brothel’s diner, which cost more than the average cop could readily afford. “Where are they taking you ladies for dinner?”
“At our place.”
I raised a brow at that. “The two hundred a meal place?”
“The same,” Gerina confirmed with a grin.
“He’s bringing up to three cops three times a week?”
“The gentleman is a dragon-kin well on his way to becoming a dragon of his own right, so he can afford it. For all we know, he might even be a dragon. He’s the son of prominent dragons. We honestly don’t care as long as he’s got the goods, which he does. Being a cop is a joy in his life. It was never about the paycheck for him. But that’s also why we trust him. He’s a yellow to the core, and there’s nothing more he loves than to watch things grow. As a cop, he satisfies those urges fairly well.”
Ah. Numerous generations ago, according to my mother, a yellow dragon had entered our line. I’d inherited a love of green things and planting seeds from him, with just enough of his magic to help a garden grow.
Cecilia had the right idea about the dragon-kin cop if he came from a yellow line. The idea of hurting brothel workers would make him ill at best. “How oversensitive is this one?”
“Know a little about yellows, then?”
I laughed, and to cover my mistake, I shook my head. “Only that they’re the delicate little flowers of dragon society until you get one into bed, in which case they’re beasts.”
“This one, alas, is emotionally unavailable. He’s physically unavailable due to his status as emotionally unavailable. Gerina offered a nice evening on her dime to him. He was quite polite in his refusal. He does accept cuddling, but that’s it.”
“We give him dinners on the house now,” Gerina added. “That one is looking for his perfect woman, but he’s good company several times a week. Add in that he’s making our relationship with the cops better, only attacking his wallet when he brings guests works out for the best for us.”
Interesting. “And because he’s a yellow, he’s courteous to a fault?”
“Oh, he’s a mouthy little runt, but he’s a sweet one,” Cecilia replied, and she grinned at me. “Maybe after this settles down, I’ll dress you up and have you have a dinner with our sweet young yellow dragon. He might be worthy of you. Maybe. Gerina, have the ladies test him. Kinsley deserves better than a bottom of the barrel upstart of a dragon.”
The poor yellow dragon would be in for one hell of a long wait if I were involved in their matchmaking ploy.
Emotional unavailability plagued us both, common ground neither of us could stand on.
“Maybe after this is resolved. For now, let’s talk money,” I stated.
THREE
Erik would have dug his own grave beside mine.
Saturday, April 18, 2167
The Gray Ward
Dragon Heights, Wyoming
Dawn bled away to morning, and morning faded to noon. I feared the financial documents would win. I had expected paperwork; investigations always had paperwork, sometimes filling numerous filing boxes. Gerina’s papers alone filled ten such boxes, and as word spread that I investigated her personal matters, the other brothel workers joined the party, filling the kitchen with enough intel I put some serious thought into crying.
“And this is just for the past two months?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t heard the women correctly.
Cecilia laughed at me. “Your expression promises we pain you far more than we could ever truly know, but yes. This is two months of financial information for all of us. Take your favorite box and go home, Kinsley. Nothing in these files have sensitive information beyond what you would expect to find in someone’s home anyway. You lock your doors, and no one is foolish enough to rob someone on this street. Dragons walk here.”
That the dragons disguised themselves would cause me problems, especially as I hadn’t realized how many of them lurked nearby.
I had thought that the Gray Ward had been relatively safe from the watchful eyes of the dragons and their kin.