Read Lost Soul (Harbinger P.I. Book 1) for Free Online Page B

magic. For an ogre living in the faerie realm, that could be useful. And it benefits the Society guy because the tattoos protect the would-be assassins from me.”
    She frowned in confusion. “You don’t use magic, Alec.” Then her eyes widened. “Do you?”
    “Before you tell me which regulation in the Investigative Guidebook that breaks, no, I don’t. But I’ve employed witches in the past to help me.”
    “Really? Because that breaks a whole chapter of rules in the guidebook.”
    “Nothing is as black and white as the guidebook makes it out to be,” I said. The GPS directed us off the highway and along a narrow road that wound through the woods before the female voice said, “You have reached your destination on the right.”
    On the right, a short road led to a large iron gate set into a high stone wall. I drove up to it. There was an intercom system on the wall, a small metal box with a talk button and built-in speaker. A camera pointed down at us from atop the gate.
    Leaving the engine running, I got out and walked to the intercom.
    After I pressed the button, a young male voice answered. “Who is it?”
    “My name is Alec Harbinger,” I said. “My assistant, Felicity Lake, called you earlier. We’d like to talk to you about Dark Rock Lake.”
    “Sure, come on up.” There was a buzz and the gate swung open slowly.
    I got back in the Land Rover and drove inside, whistling with appreciation at the expansive grounds beyond the wall. A huge, well-maintained lawn stretched from the walls all the way to a huge mansion that sat proudly in the center of the grounds. The house was all modern angles and glass walls. I preferred old buildings, myself, but even so, I could appreciate the design of this modern-day palace.
    “Someone has some serious money,” Felicity said. “This place is as big as a golf course.”
    The road we were on was paved with white gravel which formed a circle by the front door of the house. Parked in that circle were a number of expensive cars, including Rolls Royces and Bentleys.
    I parked my old Land Rover between a metallic-blue Ferrari Spider and a silver Bentley and climbed out. Felicity followed me to the front door, fishing her notebook and pen out of her purse.
    The door was opened by a young black guy wearing a gray hoodie and blue jeans. I guessed his age to be early twenties, probably a couple of years older than his friend, James Robinson. “Hey,” he said. “Come in.”
    “Leon Smith?” I asked as we stepped into a marble-floored hallway. The glass ceiling took advantage of the natural light, making the house bright and airy.
    “Yeah, that’s me,” he said. “Come on, I’ll get Michael to make us some drinks. Iced tea?”
    “Sure, thanks,” I said, and Felicity nodded.
    A tall, white man in his sixties appeared from a side door and spoke to Leon with a British accent. “I’m sorry I didn’t get the door, sir, I was occupied with the arrangements regarding the party on Friday.”
    “Leave that for now, Michael. I’d like iced tea for my guests and me out back.”
    “Of course, sir. Then I will immediately return to the matter of the party.”
    Leon sighed. “Sure, whatever.” He led us through the house and outside to an area paved with flagstones and surrounded by a low, ornate stone wall. There was a long, low table out here along with outdoor furniture that probably cost more than my house.
    “Please, sit,” Leon said, “and I’ll answer whatever questions I can.”
    We sat and Felicity asked him, “Do you mind if I take notes?”
    Leon shook his head. “Of course not.”
    “You seem very open to us being here,” I told him. “If I was approached by detectives wanting to ask me questions, I’d be a little guarded.”
    “I’ve been expecting someone to come here,” he said. “In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t show up sooner. You were hired by James’s parents, right?”
    I nodded. “Why were you expecting someone to come