"You've got sharp eyes, Lady Mirielle." Trade laughed and slapped his hand on his thigh. "Hot damn, things are looking up. We can tap Farrahd for questioning in an hour, tops. And to think I was planning to spend the rest of the day staring at that image. Now we can... what's that look for, Moore? Isn't Sir Delryn's identification correct?"

"Yes." The way Moore said the word, you could almost hear the unspoken "But..." hanging in the air.

"Yes, Moore?"

"How can we be sure that this murderer has any connection to Yusef Farrahd? The man sells beauty supplies and love potions to the gentry, and you know they'd scatter like the brainless chickens they are at the faintest hint of scandal. What in the world could induce him to take out a contract on Kelsey Coltrane?"

"Hey, Inspector!"

Our heads swiveled to face Imoen, who was still poking around in that crate.

"Found something?" I asked.

"Hell, yeah. Come take a look at these potions, Inspector. You might want to hold your nose. It smells like something curled up and died in here."

From the look on Trade's mug as he poked among the bottles, Imoen's description was an understatement. "Pfaugh!" he said. "You weren't kidding, miss. Crate stinks worse than the south end of a northbound ogre." He raised his voice. "The potions are duds, Moore. Curdled, like bottles of spoiled milk."

"My shipment!" Sis wailed. "Heavens above, what am I going to say to Lady Ophal? She paid in advance for this batch!"

"Calm yourself, my Lady," said Anomen. "She shall understand, given the circumstances."

Moore frowned, lines etching themselves deep into his tanned face. "The blackguard's spell caused this calamity, then?"

"Gotta be," I said. "Farrahd's not above tampering with a shipment or two. And since he competes directly with the Coltranes in the beauty biz...."

Sis nodded, calmer now. Her eyes had frozen into two icy marbles. "Yes, Sarevok, that does make sense."

While the rest of us heaved sighs of relief and congratulated each other on a job well done, Moore's gimlet eyes focused on Anomen. I wondered what the mage was thinking. As it happened, I didn't have to wait long to find out.

"I seem to remember a case involving your family and the Farrahds," he said. "It was a number of years back, I believe."

"Yes," said Anomen. He grit his teeth, his expression that of a man lost in his own personal hell. "Yusef Farrahd's father, Saerk, murdered my younger sister, Moira, along with two of the family servants."

"That's right. I remember now. This Saerk died soon afterwards, did he not?"

"Yes, not long after the Magistrate confiscated his business and holdings." Anomen's lips thinned. "He could bribe his way out of prison, but he could not keep Helm's vengeance from falling upon his guilty head."

"It was a rather sudden death, as I recall." Trade scratched his head. "Sickness, maybe, or a sudden fit."

"A sudden fit caused by a knife in the heart, eh, Sir Delryn?"

Anomen's head snapped up. His hands shook more than a Black Lotus addict gone cold turkey. "I beg your pardon!"

"Moore!" Trade shook his head. "The Magistrate is well-satisfied that neither Sir Delryn nor any of his family had anything to do with Lord Farrahd's death. Let it rest."

Moore looked away. I'd seen a more pleasant puss on an orc.

"Hey, uh, not that this hasn't been fun and all, but shouldn't you folks go after Farrahd?" asked Imoen.

Sis blinked. "What about the assassin?"

Trade shook his head. "I'd be surprised if this one wasn't floating in the canals within the tenday. Farrahd would be stupid to let him live."

"The Farrahds were always fond of taking the initiative," said Moore. "There's always a chance that this one did his own killing."

"Maybe, though most men in his position don't like to dirty their hands. Either way, I'd be very interested to find out what he has to say." Trade shook hands all around. "Thanks for allowing us to invade your lovely home, Lady Mirielle. And, again, I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Inspector," said Sis. She put on a small, brave smile. "I just know you will bring my Kelsey's murderer to justice."

I had a bad feeling about Farrahd, but nothing to back it up. So, I kept my trap shut. Trade and Moore left, and so did Anomen.

This evening passed with fewer waterworks than the first. Sis went upstairs to get some shut-eye, and Imoen and I hung around in the parlor. I sat myself down in a fuzzy pink armchair and propped my feet up on the gleaming coffee table. I'd have smoked if I hadn't been sure that Sis would chew me out. Imoen slipped off her boots and left them in a sloppy pile on the hearthrug. She stretched out on the sofa and wriggled her toes.

"Miri sure has a nice place, huh, Sarry. Someday, I want to have a house just like this one."

"It'd be wasted on you. You'd decorate it all in pink."

"Well... yeah! I could have a pink bedroom, and a pink kitchen, and a little pink latrine... with sparkles! And unicorns! And then I'd dye my hair pink to match! Wouldn't that be great?"

I shuddered, but she wasn't looking at me. She was staring at the bookshelves, her gaze focused far away from the parlor. I thought she might be lost in her hideous dream house, but her next words proved me wrong.

"It's so sad that Mister Farrahd was involved. His father was a real piece of work, but Yusef didn't seem too bad when we met him. Or, at least, he didn't seem like the type to murder someone."

"Don't be an idiot. Everyone's the type. Especially Farrahd."

He'd come by the office a couple months ago with a simple request: he thought his wife was having a little on the side and wanted her tailed. Imoen had taken care of this one with a quick spell, catching the broad having a roll in the hay with an elven pretty boy. We'd delivered the goods, sharp-focused shots floated in a high-quality crystal ball, but it had taken me forever to collect our payment. The guy was so tight with a gold piece you'd think they weren't minting them anymore.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Word on the street's that he's been having a little business trouble. Coltrane potions sell out, but his potions stay on the shelves. I can see him wanting to even the score. And if things got out of hand, well, I'm sure he'd be crying all the way to the bank."

"I guess. He didn't have much to start out with, since the Council took away his father's properties as punishment for Ano's sister." She made a face. "He's got something squirreled away, though, if he can hire someone good enough to take out Kelsey. Don't you think it was strange how Kelseykins didn't even put up a fight?"

"Yeah, it was strange." I thought back to Moore's spell. The battle had been short. Wham, bam, dead sorcerer. "You think he tried to cast something?"

Imoen chewed on a hank of hair. "No," she said after a long time. "I'd have to look at that image again to be sure, though. Kelsey never used traditional methods."

"Traditional methods? You mean that stupid fingerwaving you do?"

She stuck her tongue out at me. "The only way I could tell he was doing something was that little line he used to get between his eyebrows." She yawned. "Sorry, I can't think anymore. I'm feeling a little sleepy."

"Then go to bed. Do I need to tell you everything?"

She smiled and smacked her lips on my cheek. "Good night, big bro."

I reached up and wiped off the wet smooch prints. "Good night."

A moment after she'd picked up her boots and left the room, I remembered what I'd wanted to ask her about. Anomen. Moore had a real chip on his shoulder about Anomen's past. Most folks had forgotten about that old feud between the Delryns and the Farrahds. It might have been ancient history, but there was something there that left me with a sinking feeling, like getting caught off your guard when the tax inspector asked to see your business ledger. Never piss off the taxman. You might find yourself falling from the top of the world and, believe me, you can't see your house from there.

A soft voice interrupted my rambling thoughts. "Sarevok? Are you all right?"

I looked up. Sis stood in the doorway, the lamplight making a golden halo of her hair. She was cinching a plush white robe around her body. I almost wished she wouldn't. It was one hell of a body.

"I'm fine, Sis. I thought you were taking a trip to the shuteye buffet."

"I was having trouble falling asleep, so I came downstairs for a book." She glided in and picked up a dog-eared copy of Ledger Entries for Beginners.

"I can see how that would put you to sleep."

She came over and sat down on the padded arm of my chair. "Come on, Sarevok," she purred in my ear. Her perfume enveloped me in roses and musk. "Tell your little sister what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. Just trying to remember something, that's all."

She pouted and stroked my arm. I could see she wouldn't let it go, so I kept talking.

"What's the story with Anomen? That Moore guy was all over him with that business about his sister."

Sis frowned. Now she was the one who didn't want to talk. "Oh. That. Imoen didn't tell you?"

"She spilled a little, but for the most part, she just told me to quit bothering her."

"I can understand why. If it were me, I wouldn't want to relive those memories either. This happened right after we'd rescued her from that vampire, Bodhi. We'd only just restored her soul, and she was not yet herself."

Her gorgeous eyes held my full attention. I felt like she was about to tell me a bedtime story, only this one wouldn't put me to sleep.

"Anomen was very upset when he found out about Saerk Farrahd's role in Moira's death." She sighed, seeming to sag with the weight of the memory. "He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't think about anything but avenging his sister."

Imoen's half-finished tales came flooding back, only this time they made sense. "He went over to pop the guy?"

"Almost. We caught up with him before he could do more than hold his mace over Saerk's greasy head, but it was close. Too close."

"You didn't let him finish the job? Why the hell not? The guy seems like a nasty little wart. If it'd been me, I would've slit his throat for a copper."

"I know, Sarevok, but Anomen's not like you." She shook her curls at me. "I couldn't let him throw away everything he had achieved on one senseless act of revenge. He would have lost his standing in the Order, Helm's powers, and everything that he valued."

I guessed I could see her point. Anomen seemed like a goody-two-shoes, much like the rest of her crew. "Point's moot, anyway. Saerk died in the end."

"Yes, along with his daughter, Surayah. Good riddance. " Sis opened her blue eyes wide at my grunt of surprise. "I can't say any of us were sorry when we heard about their deaths. We aren't perfect, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

It sounded like there was still some bad blood between the Coltranes and Farrahd. Murder had seemed a bit rough for a few jars of cosmetics, but teamed with a long-standing grudge and a family's financial ruin, it added up to one nasty brew.

"I think I'll pay a visit to Trade tomorrow," I said. "I want to make sure they catch this guy before he can do anything else to you."

"Thank you, Sarevok," she said with a tremulous little smile. "I'm so lucky to have you looking out for me."

"Anytime, doll."

"I should probably get some sleep. And so should you." She straightened my collar, slipping back into sisterly mode.

"I don't need sleep. I need a drink."

"A drink? But you've had plenty tonight."

"Not nearly enough."

Sis drummed her fingers on her knee. I figured she was about to tell me off. As it turned out, I was right.

"Please, Sarevok. Don't you think you're drinking a bit too much?"

She'd always liked to meddle. Now she'd been the local hero for so long that she couldn't leave well enough alone. I gave her a taste of the old poker face. "No."

Her golden brows drew together. "How much wine did you have with dinner? Two bottles? Three?"

"Don't nag, sweetheart. It's bad for your longevity."

She gave me a look that would have melted an iron golem's heart. "I'm just trying to help, Sarevok. I don't want to see anything happen to you."

"Don't worry about me, Sis. You just take care of yourself."

I walked her up to her room before heading to mine. I had a hot date. With a bottle.