Secrets in the Moon (Crescent City Werewolves #1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

As Cora had predicted, Captain Dempsey appeared in high spirits, his sarcasm downright mild at seeing her surrounded by lawyers. "Miss Marshall. I'll take a wild guess that you're ready to talk about why you left your father."

She offered a shining smile. "That's right."

Mr. Snaith stepped toward the captain, his words as brisk as the movement. "We're sorry to disturb you this late, Captain Dempsey, but we thought this should be brought to your attention as soon as feasible."

Once inside the captain's office, a strange feeling struck Cora while Mr. Snaith and the others laid out the facts about her father and the sigil. There was the sheer anticipation of her father experiencing the hell of a police investigation and media uproar, yes, but also something quieter, something she couldn't name. She sat there in silence, remembering the first time she had been in this office: the day Sam had taken her on as a client to clear her name against murder allegations. She wasn't used to introspection, and it staggered her to think of how her life had changed. She supposed this was the closest she could come to experiencing closure over the sigil and her stolen memories.

Captain Dempsey remained stoic while listening, asking the occasional question for clarification. The smoke from his cigarette added to the moodiness of the dimly lit room. Jane had agreed to give the sigil to Cora's lawyers, and they now offered the jar to the captain. Cora could never understand how men stayed so dispassionate in response to a repulsive sight. Only she flinched when the sigil, still in the slug-like form Jane had transformed it into, crawled to the side of the glass nearest to her and grew tendrils to search every inch of the smooth surface.

"As you can see," said one of the lawyers, the expert in thaumaturgic law, "it still senses her."

The captain's gaze flickered over to Cora. She must have looked as sick as she felt, because he pushed the jar out of sight. "So, you want to press charges against your father."

She drew in a deep breath, aware that there was no turning back from this moment. Aware that in the morning, when she felt less overwhelmed by a long day of legal discussions, she would be absolutely gleeful. "Yes. Mr. Snaith and the others have made sure I understand what that will mean for me."

Dempsey studied her for a moment and then scrawled out a note. As he rolled it up and fed it into the pneumatic tubing system, he said, "All right. I hope you're ready for the grinder."

She raised her chin. "Who am I about to be meat for?"

"Everyone. You'll have to see a police enchanter before you leave the station so he can collect all possible evidence left. Over the next few days, the police commissioner will want to interview you himself. Do you have somewhere to hide when the press finds out about this? It's going to be big news. Every reporter in town will yap at your heels."

"Miss Marshall is following our advice to remain out of public sight for tonight," came Mr. Snaith's calm reply. "We have someone who will send a press release for tomorrow's morning edition. Since there's no chance of keeping it quiet until you or the city prosecutor makes a move, we decided to control the timing and content of the reveal to reduce the stress on our client."

One of the other lawyers offered yet another sheet of paper to the captain, who read it and shrugged. "Doesn't put any words in my mouth, so I'm fine with it."

As Dempsey stood in a silent signal that he was done with them, he added, "Any other questions or comments, Miss Marshall?"

"Yes. I know you already have men watching Father for his protection. I think that's enough and don't want anyone watching over me."

"Obviously," he said, voice dry. "Once the press is onto this, he won't be able to sneeze without it being reported. Which I'm sure your team here is very aware of. Relax and get some sleep. You've given us plenty to work with."