Read The Fairyland Murders for Free Online Page A

uninvited way. Lusting after a fairy was bad enough; lusting after the twins’ half niece bordered on suicidal.
    â€œSo what now, boy wonder?” She glanced up and down the dark street. “Do you return me to the fairies and then just walk away?”
    Good question, but one I didn’t have a ready answer for. If I returned her to Clayton and Peyton, my job was done. I’d collect the rest of my dough and be on my merry way.
    But someone would still want her dead.
    And since that someone had just tried to use me to accomplish their goal, I wasn’t feeling particularly accommodating. “Come on, Tink,” I said, staggering to my feet. “Let’s go someplace, grab a drink, and talk about it.”
    For a second she looked like she wanted to argue. “Fine,” she said. “I could use a drink myself. But I’m warning you,” she paused, letting her words sink in, “if you call me Tinker Bell one more time, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
    â€œGood to know,” I said, tossing my leather jacket at her. “But I’m not real good at taking advice, especially from girls with pink wings.”
    Tucking my jacket over her wings, she zipped it up without speaking. Once her body was sufficiently covered, her gaze locked on mine. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

CHAPTER 8
    W e entered The Mother Goose, a bar a block from my apartment, at a little after one in the morning. The place was packed with drunken henchmen, down-on-their-luck princesses, and the occasional CPA. What The Mother Goose lacked in class it tried to make up for with watery booze and Ferns.
    I hated the Ferns.
    â€œLook who it is,” Fern said to her Siamese twin, Fern, who sat planted on a barstool, a gin martini grasped in her willowy hand. The second Fern, her mouth stuffed full of peanuts, waved at me. “Well if it ain’t Little Boy Blue. Why don’t you come blow my horn?”
    I hustled Izzy to a table at the back of the room without acknowledging either woman and flagged down the bartender. “Two bottles of mead.”
    Izzy glanced about the place, her nose wrinkling. “Come here often?” She brushed at the cracked red vinyl on the booth before sitting down.
    I laughed, drawing a few stares from a table of humorless ugly ducklings next to us. “Sorry it’s not up to your high fairy standards.”
    â€œPlease stop saying that,” she said after the bartender set our bottles and two glasses on the table and then quickly walked away.
    â€œSay what? Fairy?” She nodded but didn’t explain, so I pressed her. “What’s your deal?”
    â€œWhat’s yours?” she countered, forgoing the smudged mug in favor of the green bottle. Her lips curled around the bottle and she drank deeply. When she finished she licked at the grape mustache staining her upper lip.
    â€œLet’s start over,” I said, taking a deep breath as my gut tightened. “My name’s Blue. Your uncles, Clayton and Peyton, hired me to save you from your kidnappers. Since I don’t see any kidnappers, I’m guessing you weren’t kidnapped.” I waved at her. “Now it’s your turn, Tink.”
    â€œMy name is Izzy. I-Z-Z-Y.” She frowned. “And those freaks who hired you are not in any way related to me.”
    Little sawed-off bastards. They’d lied to me. Again. When I got my hands on them, they were going to wish Band-Aids came in 31 flavors.
    Izzy wasn’t finished with her tirade. “And now, thanks to you, someone found me and tried to blow my brains out. Again.”
    â€œAgain?”
    She sighed, her mouth thinning. “Three days ago someone broke into my apartment and attacked me. I managed to get away. Barely.” She pulled up the torn sleeve of her dress, showing off a colorful array of bruises along her arm. Bruises I hadn’t noticed before. In my defense, if I