No Quest For The Wicked
I shuddered. “Good point.”
It was now lunchtime, and the downtown sidewalks were even more crowded. Sam led us to the next address by way of alleys and side streets. When he came to rest on the awning over the building entrance, he said, “I’m not seein’ any elves around here. We may have beaten them.”
“Or it may be the wrong place,” Owen said wearily.
“Hey, chin up, kiddo!” the gargoyle said. “There’s no point in givin’ up this soon. You can’t get a strikeout with one pitch.”
This building’s lobby was more posh than utilitarian. The building was relatively new, but the décor gave the illusion of stability and tradition, with lots of carved dark wood, oil paintings in gilded frames, and upholstered furniture. Rod’s magic got us past the lobby security guards to the elevators and then to the restricted executive floor.
The executive lobby was even more posh than the main lobby had been. It looked like the sort of club where men meet to drink brandy, smoke cigars, and call each other “old chap.” The receptionist’s desk was so large that I had to wonder what the executive’s desk was like. You could probably play table tennis on it.
This receptionist wasn’t the office trophy wife type. She was the real wife type, which made me suspect that the trophy wife was at home. This was the kind of woman who served as an external brain for her boss, keeping track of all the little details of his life at the office and at home. She was middle-aged, conservatively dressed, and looked exhausted.
She greeted us with a wary smile. “May I help you?” she asked.
“We’re looking for Jonathan Martin,” Rod said, exuding his usual charm.
Either she was immune to magic or she just didn’t waste time on smooth talkers, because she didn’t melt the way women usually did when Rod hit them with the full whammy. Instead, she gave him a frosty smile and said, “Mr. Martin has gone to lunch. It’s his fiancée’s birthday, so I don’t expect him back until late.”
I thought I detected something familiar in her tone, so I signaled for the guys to let me handle this. “Sounds like his fiancée’s a piece of work,” I said sympathetically. “Let me guess, she acts like you work for her, too—and they’re not even married yet.”
She rolled her eyes. “I practically have to curtsy to Her Royal Highness while I’m picking up her dry cleaning and making appointments for her.”
“Yeah, I’ve worked for one like that. And you know Her Highness has to go somewhere really special for her birthday.”
Bingo! “Let me guess, something in a little blue box?”
A gift from Tiffany’s looked like proof that this was our guy, and now I knew where he was. “Well, I guess we’ll have to call on Mr. Martin later,” I said. “Thank you for your help.”
“Would you care to leave a message?”
“No, I suspect he’ll know what we needed.”
Once we were on the elevator, Rod gave me an appreciative nod. “Nice work there, and without even using magic.”
I gave what I hoped looked like a modest shrug. “I recognized the look in that woman’s eyes when she said the word ‘fiancée.’ It’s the way our receptionist always looked when she talked about our boss.” I gave an involuntary shiver. “Just looking at her gave me Mimi flashbacks.”
“We still don’t know if this is our man,” Owen said.
“This one did buy a gift at Tiffany’s,” Rod pointed out.
“That would explain why the seers aren’t getting the sense of power from him,” I added. “If he bought it as a gift, he may be keeping it in the protective box. And that means we need to hurry uptown and snag it before he can give her the gift. I don’t think we want a woman who can put that look in a receptionist’s eyes to have this kind of power.”
Sam was waiting for us outside. “We gotta get uptown, right away.”
“We’re way ahead of you, Sam,” Rod said. “That’s where we’re heading.”
“Yeah, but the elves are already on their way. My guys say they’re movin’ in on Fifty-first Street. Looks like they found it.”
Chapter Three
I’d thought we had a head start because we knew the purchaser’s name, but apparently the elves could detect the Knot as soon as it came out of the protective box. “Uh oh,” I said as I hurried to keep up with the guys, who were hurrying to keep up with a flying gargoyle. “If the elves’ seers found the Knot, then that probably means Mr. Martin has already given it to his fiancée. And that means we’ll get to deal with the scary dragon lady who now has extra evil power.”