Nicole Peeler - [Jane True 01] (22 page)

I couldn’t help it, it was all too much. I let out a little snort of
derision; it was either that, or run away screaming.

Gus abruptly turned toward me, the quickest movement I had ever seen him
make. “It’s not funny,” he said, sharply. “How would you like it if someone
picked
you
up and used
you
to brain somebody?”

I looked at Ryu, helplessly. I think I was a little hysterical and it
was taking everything I had in me, plus my literally biting my own tongue, not
to burst out laughing.

Ryu took the situation in hand. “Gus, Jane meant no offense. She is new
to our world; be patient with her.” His words settled me, and I managed to give
Gus a solemn nod. “We need to know what the stone can tell you; does it have
any idea who used it?”

Gus looked down at the rock for a long moment, his expression so
compassionate I started to take him a little more seriously. “I’m sorry,” he
said, finally. “She can’t really tell humans apart.” Gus chose his next words
with care. “She just sees humans as ugly bags of water.”

Alarmed, I whispered to Ryu, “Isn’t that from a
Star Trek
episode?” but he shushed me.

“She would know the killer’s scent, however. We stones have a very good
sense of smell and wonderful memories,” Gus finished, giving a little sniff as
if to punctuate his point.

I shuddered, imagining the rock walls of my cove smelling me every time
I brushed past them…

“Thank you, Gus,” Nell said. “That will be all.”

“May I take her with me?” Gus asked, pointing at the stone. Ryu
interrupted, then, to say, “No, I’m sorry. We may have need of it later. But
when this is all over, we’ll be sure to return it… um, her, to you.”

Gus sighed, giving the rock a little hug and whispering to it before he
set it back down on the
National Geographic
. He gave it a parting
caress, then stumped back out the front door without saying good-bye.

I sat there, trying to wrap my head around what I’d just seen, while Ryu
joined Anyan in the doorway. I watched as Anyan pointed his muzzle at a large
paper bag sitting on the kitchen’s granite-topped island, and Ryu went to
collect it. Settling back down beside me, he began rooting around inside the
bag. When I caught a strong smell of burning I realized it must be Gretchen’s
effects, and then I remembered Martin’s body. I told my stomach in firm tones
to
stay settled
, just as Ryu produced Gretchen’s singed briefcase.

He went through the pockets, but it had indeed been cleaned out. There
were a few receipts for dry cleaning and Starbucks, and a packet of tissues.
For
dabbing at eye mucus
, I thought queasily, but then I shook myself.
Goblins
probably think we’re the hideous ones, with our smooth flesh and our fatty
limbs. And she was murdered and stuck in an oven, which is not a nice way to
go.

Tucked away in an all but hidden back pocket of the briefcase, however,
was a tiny pink planner that the killer must have overlooked. It was too small
to be Gretchen’s business planner, and it only contained personal appointments,
so Nell was right in thinking that Gretchen probably had another planner for
her professional dealings. Nevertheless, there might be something in there to
give us a clue and Ryu was poring over it as if it were
War and Peace
.

“Hmph,” he grunted, suddenly. I had come to know Ryu’s grunts, and that
was a happy grunt. “Look at this.”

Written in blue pen under the entry for today was “Iris’s, Eastport,
1:30.” There was a number scrawled underneath.

“Iris’s is a boutique,” I told Ryu. “It’s really famous around here.”
Ryu’s eyes stayed on mine, expectantly, so I continued. “The owner, Iris, does
a really specialized personalized-shopping experience kind of thing. She has a
store with regular stock in it, but she also brings in special stuff just for
you if you’re one of her clients. Who are mostly rich people with holiday
homes. I’ve never actually been there. I’ve just heard about it. It’s really
expensive,” I added, lamely, well aware of my slightly shabby gray sweater. At
this point in the week I was running out of “good” clothes.

“Well,” Ryu said, taking his BlackBerry out of his pocket and dialing
the number from the planner. “Looks like you’ll finally get your chance to
visit Iris’s boutique.” While it rang, he eyed me skeptically. “And maybe,” he
said, poking his finger through a small hole in the side of my top I hadn’t
noticed until then, “she’ll have something in your size.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

U
h-oh,”
Ryu said, as we pulled in front of Iris’s elegantly understated boutique. There
was an absolutely sublime black pants suit on the mannequin in the window, and
a pyramid of handbags that probably cost a small fortune. And I mean
individually, not just in formation.

“Huh?” I mumbled, practically salivating at the sight of a particularly
enormous red leather bag that I could probably have fit myself into. And, boy,
did I want to give it a go.

“There’s a succubus in there. She’s left her mark all over the place,”
Ryu said, grimacing. I didn’t think that was a very nice thing to say, and I
told him so.

“I don’t mean succubus in the wanton harlot sense,” he explained,
patiently. “I mean a real live succubus. They’re what you might call cousins to
vampires. But they don’t feed off fear at all, just lust. And they can harvest
essence from any bodily fluid, not just blood.”

“Oh,” I said, chewing my mental cud. And then everything came together.
“Oh, a
succubus
,” I said, remembering the exact details of my mythology.
“And
any
bodily fluid…” The thought was rather exciting, and I blinked.
“I gotcha.”

Ryu pulled me toward him for a lingering kiss. “You’re almost too cute
to fuck, Jane. But that just makes me want to fuck you even more.”

“Wow,” I murmured, as my libido kicked into high gear and I reached up
to grab two fistfuls of his thick brown hair. Speaking of bodily fluids…

We pulled away from each other after a minute, panting. This was neither
the time nor the place. Mostly because the stupid Porsche was too small to
accommodate any horseplay. Foiled in my attempt to illustrate for Ryu what a
true wanton harlot could do, and therefore rather frustrated, I was in no way
prepared for what waited for us beyond the doors of Iris’s boutique.

If I had thought Grizzie oozed sexuality, the vision that came to open
the door for us was gushing sensuality in a torrent so palpable I actually
stumbled over it. Softly manicured hands caught me, and I was face to face with
the most perfect bosoms I’d ever seen. I’m no slouch in the boobies department,
but these personalities were impeccable. “Oh, honey,” came a voice like
molasses. “Are you all right?” The hands helped me straighten up, until I was
gazing into the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen in my entire life. They
were like my sea during a storm or the sky on a summer’s day. Or Nan’s toilets
when she’d used those cistern deodorizing-tablet jobbies—

“Ahem,” coughed Ryu, dryly, and I found the strength to detach myself
from the vision.

“Iris, I presume?” Ryu continued, putting out one hand to shake the
vision’s while he used the other to haul me back to his side.

The vision turned the full weight of her attention onto Ryu, and I
managed to straighten myself up.
Wow, that was intense
, I thought,
trying to still my trembling hands.

“Yes,” came the butter-and-jam voice again. “And you must be Ryu. It’s a
pleasure to meet you. Who is your friend?”

“Her name is Jane True,” Ryu said, stepping resolutely between Iris and
me. “Her mother is the selkie, Mari, who made her home in Rockabill for a
time.”

“Of course, little Jane,” Iris said, circumventing Ryu and somehow
getting her lovely mitts on me once again. She used one hand, placed
dangerously low at the small of my back, to steer me into her boutique.

“I sold your mother a red wrap dress, once,” she said. “You were just a
babe in arms, but I knew then you would be a beauty. Your mother certainly was.
And look at you now.” She put her hand on my shoulder and spun me around, and
then took a step back to get a good look at me. I was getting more and more
flushed by the second and I looked back at Ryu for help. I could tell he didn’t
know whether to be irritated or to run and get a video camera.

“You have her hair, and her eyes,” Iris said, brushing my bangs away
from my face. “And her figure. She’s built like a young Selma Hayek,” the
succubus commented appreciatively to Ryu, who had stepped up to stand beside
her. “Like in
From Dusk Till Dawn
,” she continued, as they both ogled
me. I could see that Ryu was showing some fang, and Iris’s eyes had begun to
glow eerily. For my part, I felt like I had fresh meat painted on my chest.

“Thanks, Miss, um, Iris,” I interrupted. “But we’re actually here on
business,” I said, giving Ryu what I hoped was a meaningful look.

“Hmm?” he queried, his eyes scanning back up my body, slowly. “What? Oh
yes, of course. Sorry.” He turned to Iris, professional once more. “We’re here
because your name appeared in a diary belonging to Gretchen Kirschner, and we
wanted to ask you what that appointment was regarding.”

Iris made a face. “Oh, business, schmizness. I’ll tell you all about
Gretchen and what she wanted,” she said, giving me the sweetest smile I’ve ever
seen in my life. I took an involuntary step toward her before I realized what I
was doing. “
If
you let me dress up Jane. That sweater is simply not on,”
she finished, reaching out to touch it as if she thought it might stain her
fingers.

Ryu sighed. “Fine, Iris. Whatever you like. Let’s just get to it.”

Iris gave a delighted little clap and raced off into the expensive
bowels of her boutique. I gave Ryu a confused look and he shrugged. “Succubae
aren’t exactly what you’d call focused,” he apologized. “If we don’t keep her
happy, she’ll never get around to telling us what we need to know.” His eyes
took on a wicked glint. “And you could use a new sweater,” he teased. I was so
mad I took it off and threw it at him.

“Ooh, you’ve started without me,” Iris murmured, giving me a sexy smile.
She was dragging behind her an entire wheelie rack and I had no idea how she’d
gotten around her shop that fast.

“What are you, a six petite?” Iris asked, pulling me and the rack over
to the dressing room and handing me a pair of very tiny looking black trousers
and a white blouse. “Put these on and we’ll get to work.”

Once in the dressing room, I pulled off my old jeans and began to pull
on the pants. They were made of this really stretchy material that hugged every
curve. Or, more accurately, wrapped every curve in a death grip. They were long
and tight around my ankles, so I rolled them into cuffs, thinking they’d need
hemming. Then began the arduous process of buttoning them up. After I’d sucked
what felt like my liver up into my lungs, I managed to get them buttoned and
zipped. Then I put on the white blouse, which I have to admit was gorgeous. It
was really soft fabric with just the perfect amount of crispness. I had no idea
who the hell would iron it if I took it home, since I was a disaster at ironing,
but for right now it looked amazing. I also had no idea what I actually looked
like, because there was no mirror in the dressing room.

While I was changing, I could hear Ryu querying Iris. He wasn’t having
much luck, unfortunately. Every time he asked a question about Gretchen, Iris
turned it around and asked a question about us: Were we together? Were we
serious? When did we meet? She was particularly curious about when he would be
leaving Rockabill; I could tell Ryu was just about to lose it, so I chose that
moment to step out of the dressing room.

Iris
tsk
ed when she saw me, and before I knew it she unrolled my
pant legs and adjusted them so they settled around my lower calves and ankles
with a sort of ruched effect. Then she straightened up and undid the two top
buttons on the blouse, taking a moment to smooth the material down over my
hips. And down over my backside, twice, while I tried to keep my face neutral.
Then she pulled a wide patent-leather red belt off of the rack and had it
cinched tight, right underneath my boobs, before I could say “help!” When she
saw I was actually having trouble breathing, she undid the belt one notch, but
upped the ante by slipping onto my feet the most badass red patent-leather
heels I’d ever seen in my life. “They’re Miu Miu,” she explained, and I nodded
as if I understood her. “New for this season. Mary Jane pumps are hot on the
catwalks at the moment.”