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Rather than make use of the seats, she guided me into her kitchen, a rustic affair meant to trick visitors into believing she led a simple life.
There was nothing simple about Cecilia Andrews.
With a faint frown, the woman put a kettle on her stove to boil and set up a tea pot. “When you first came to me about a place to stay, you mentioned that you had some experience doing financial investigations, like checking for accounting fraud and so on. Were you serious?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t lie about something like that. It’s too easy to test my honesty. I won’t tell you where I learned how to do it, but if you need help checking over your accounts, I can point out anything suspicious. You may need a tax accountant to further investigate things I’ve flagged, though.”
“Someone is scaring my women, but only some of them. The cop shows depict them checking their financials to find out secrets. I have access to their files. They’re scared enough they gave me their credit card statements, receipts, and other financial information. They also made a list of those they’ve seen, places they’ve been, and so on. I’ll pay you for the work, especially if you come up with a viable lead I can pursue.”
What the hell was going on in Dragon Heights? It was one thing to go after the dragon-kin seeking to obtain power, but for someone to be attacking the brothel women? In many ways, the brothels ruled the Gray Ward, and only an idiot went against the brothel matrons. While Cecilia limited her work to a single brothel, she catered to the rich and famous, and her women took pride in their beauty, their skills, and their ability to separate the rich from their money.
Her brothel even hosted some of Dragon Heights’ men, a mix of dragon-kin, dragons, and humans.
Without waiting for an invitation, I sat at her cozy kitchen table and made myself comfortable. “You can’t bring the police into it. Why?”
Cecilia offered me a grim smile. “A good question. My women all have done, seen, or experienced something that led them to my door. I shelter them, give them meaningful work, and help them become educated. But yes, there are things I would rather the police not see unless necessary. A few dragons owe me favors, so if we can identify the culprit, they can be dealt with. Quietly, of course.”
“Of course. Bring the papers. Depending on how much there is, I can read over it in a few hours and point you in the right direction. I’m not promising I can find anything. I might need to interview your women if I find something but have questions.”
“You can talk with them if it’s needed. I’ll bring the papers out. Just let me serve tea first. I could use a cup. It’s been a bad few days.”
“How badly hurt are your women?”
“It’s mostly bumps and bruises, but one was cut with a knife. I don’t know if the injury will scar.”
“Is she here?”
“She is.”
Well, well, well. Maybe I would have trouble with Cedrick’s woes, but I could help my landlady and her women with relative ease. “Can you make her a cup of tea, too, and ask her to come here for a moment? I’ve a few questions. Basic, about where she was hurt.”
“That’s fine. It’s Gerina.”
As one of Cecilia’s premier women, Gerina made herself visible when she wasn’t with a client. I’d met her several times, usually when paying my rent. With dark brown hair and pale green eyes, she drew attention and charmed most with her almost ethereal beauty inherited from her dragon parents.
I assumed one was a copper dragon, as she’d turned her entire life into art.
“Not her face?” I asked, allowing myself to frown.
“Fortunately not. She raised her arm in time.”
In Miami, we’d had several cases of jealous men disfiguring brothel workers, determined to ruin the women they claimed had ruined them.
Petty, jealous bastards.
“She’ll be okay answering some questions?”
“She is furious, and she would feed them to a dragon if she could. She is not wilting over this. She doesn’t get angry often, but this has beyond angered her.”
“That’s no wonder. She’s beautiful, and not just because of her face.”
“And that is why I would ask for your help. You see them as people. The police do not.”
However much I disliked her point of view, I understood it. I’d run into the same prejudices time and time again during my work.
Most cops automatically assumed brothel women brought trouble upon themselves due to their choice of profession.
As I was no longer in the business of backing my former co-workers, I nodded. “I’ll do what I can, and I can advise you when it might be a good idea to bring in someone who can work with law enforcement. I’m sure your dragon friend could handle that if given the right information to pass along.”