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“Would you mind showing me how he held the knife with a fork or spoon? A butter knife if you feel up for it. It need not be a blade.”
Gerina got up, went to the utensil drawer, and brought back several of Cecilia’s knives, which she put out on the table. “He had six different knives, sheathed at his side in order of size.” The woman pointed at Cecilia’s knife block. “One was the square blade. The one meant for cutting through bones.”
My brows shot up at that, and I made a note of the number and type of knives. “And the other blades?”
“One was this size,” she stated, gesturing at a butter knife. “But sharper and with a different style of blade. I haven’t seen anything quite like it before. He also had a paring knife. I recognize those. The blade he cut me with was like a scalpel but not.”
Like a scalpel but not? I thought about it, narrowing my eyes. “Like the replaceable blades used in crafts to cut things? When modeling?”
Dragons loved models, and as such, there was a healthy supply of the blades in the city.
Gerina’s eyes widened. “Yes, it was like one of those, but it was of a brighter metal. Almost silvery in appearance.”
I made a note to look into that, including checking into myths involving dragons and weaknesses. Sometimes, someone with an unfortunate misconception of magic would chase after a superstition.
Once, in Miami, someone had tried to choke someone to death with garlic cloves, convinced they were a vampire. Fortunately for the victim, he hadn’t been a vampire, although his allergy to garlic had led to an interesting night in the ER.
The perp had gone to prison for a year, had been required to pay damages to his victim, and had gotten a rather thorough scolding from the judge over having mistaken a garlic allergy for vampirism.
“Do you remember the size of the blade?”
Gerina nodded and held her fingers roughly two inches apart. “The blade formed an oddly shaped triangle about this tall. It was exceptionally sharp, reminding me of a medical scalpel because of it, but it was definitely one of the craft blades, just a little bigger than I usually see. The blade shape is the same, though. The color was wrong, but the handle was just like the craft blades.”
I made a note of that, along with a reminder to check into how medical scalpels were made, if they could be mistaken to be craft blades, and where someone in the area might get them. I would also need to look into the various metal types along with which dragon species could manipulate metal.
If a little bolder, I would give my parents a call, who knew enough about dragons to be a driving force in Dragon Heights if they wanted.
On second thought, I needed to make certain my parents never figured out I’d gone to Dragon Heights.
They’d take over, and they’d do it only so they could tote me as their beautiful little princess deserving of an excellent suitor. Then they’d hunt down my ex, drag him along for the ride, and suggest we kiss and make up.
The whole delusion held a certain amount of appeal when I was honest with myself.
I could live without everything I’d left in Miami, except for him.
The gaping hole in my life was in his shape, and I suspected it would be many years before I could forgive myself, forget about him, and move on. No matter how many times someone claimed time could heal all wounds, the months had stretched into a year, which in turn had stretched into two years, and it continued to stretch on, and still I mourned for what I had left behind, all for his sake.
Perhaps one day, things would change.
I wouldn’t hold my breath for that moment. I knew better.
Forcing myself to focus on my work, I asked, “Have you been seeing any new clients for the month leading up to the attack?”
Gerina shrugged. “We always have some new clients, but nothing out of the ordinary. Every day, we have someone new coming around. Some stay for a ride, some don’t. Some come back another time after learning the prices with the money needed for what they want. The smart ones read the rules and offer dinner to one of us, because we will give special treatment to those who bother. We have had a few new dinner buyers, but we’ve already vetted them. Our current favorite is a lonely cop who brings a friend for conversation, and they’re willing to feed us dinner to get what they want. We’ve also hosted a set of parents and grandparents who want to hear news and have pretty company. The cops are the funny ones, though. One cop is the same every time. The second cop is whomever is up next to get to know us. It’s a cop thing in our area.”
“The cops get to know you? I thought they just caused you trouble.”
“They only cause us trouble when our backgrounds get involved,” Gerina corrected. “But we’re good for morale. The regular brings one of the single men who needs to get used to having pretty company around, and he keeps coming until he no longer blushes when we show up wearing nothing but a smile. Then we dress up. And then we do it again. It usually takes a few weeks at three times a week to get the uniformed boys to stop acting like they’ve never seen a naked woman in their life. And when we do need to go to the cops for help, they know us.”
“So why me? If you have contacts in the force, why are you dodging them?”
“We don’t know if the attacker is part of the force,” my landlady admitted. “Until we know, it just isn’t safe.”
However much I wished I didn’t understand, I did. “That’s smart. I’m sorry. It must be hard not knowing if they’re actually your ally or not.”
“Most of them are, but the possibility exists that one isn’t.” Cecilia heaved a sigh. “And anyway, our regular was the one who suggested we go to a private investigator, someone with experience or know-how about financials. That’s what made me think of you. I did ask the regular. He was the one who hesitated about bringing the force into it officially. He doesn’t know if the police can be trusted with this. While the officers he’s been bringing to my place are reformed and will treat us fairly, there is still a great deal of prejudice.”
Prejudice didn’t disappear overnight, but I admired the regular’s determination to bring change. “How long have they been at this?”