35. Neco

L ower Cutwart liked to pretend they were better than Guttertown, but they really weren't. They were dirtier, for one. The Jagged Key Isles people that came over brought their love of bathing with them and most of us adopted it. Sometimes, it was cold baths, but we all took them pretty frequently. We had easier access to water than Lower Cutwart, so that probably had something to do with it.

Beck and I were walking about questioning people. It was nice. I usually worked alone, but it was nice to have a partner. Most of these people knew I was from Guttertown, so I wasn't faking the accent. Beck was clearly from the Jagged Key Isles. They weren't outright rude because we could clearly smash their faces in, but they were still snotty little bitches.

Except for the ones who were flirting with us. We'd moved on to talking to the friends of the girl who was murdered. I didn't know why, but I could just tell she was a clue.

"So, how'd you lose your eye," the girl giggled, stroking my arm.

This girl had to be sixteen, tops. I liked my women older. I wouldn't have gone there no matter what, and I didn't particularly like small talk. I definitely didn't like people touching me. There were only a few people on this Earth that I didn't want to murder when they touched me and she wasn't one of them.

Beck noticed right away and swooped in to save me. I appreciated it because it felt like bugs were crawling on my skin when I got unwanted touches. Beck usually walked around shirtless when it was warm out and it was finally starting to get there. He flexed his chest and biceps and the three girls practically swooned. I wasn't even mad they forgot all about me. I wanted them to.

"Tell us about Elsbeth," Beck said. "Would anyone want to hurt her?"

They all exchanged looks like they didn't want to say something. The rest of Nestran thought if you spoke ill of the dead, their spirit would come back and curse you, but Guttertown knew that wasn't true. We trash talked the dead all the time. We knew damned well if shitty things happened, it was the living Barons doing it, so we talked shit about the dead ones all the time. That was just idiotic talk for people who didn't see things for what they were.

"It's okay. Say what you will. We're trying to catch who did this. Elsbeth's spirit will rest and not curse you for whatever you say if it helps catch her killer," Beck purred.

Yeah, Beck had this way of doing this deep sexy thing with his voice. It could get anyone to do anything. All three girls giggled again and practically melted in their seats. Would Rowena eventually get like this? Because right now, she was ten and definitely more about punching boys in the dick than flirting with them.

I wouldn't be ready for it if Rowena got like this with older men.

"So, Elsbeth really liked boys and boys really liked Elsbeth. She was stringing a few of them along. Elsbeth didn't want to stay in Lower Cutwart, so she was juggling a few sons of merchants and two Barons' sons. The merchant boys knew about each other and the Baron heirs knew about each other, but I don't think the merchants and the Barons knew they were competing against each other."

"But it doesn't make sense any of them would go after Elsbeth and her family. You don't know how pretty she was. She also had five brothers and good hips. Elsbeth would have had many attractive sons. The merchants couldn't have gone after the Barons and the Barons would have just killed the merchants."

The little Baron crotch fruit would have gotten off Scot free. I suppose one of the merchants could have decided if they couldn't have Elsbeth, then no one could, but merchants didn't typically try to piss off the Barons. They were too busy licking their boots. It was more than likely they would have just stepped aside when they found a Baron heir was involved.

Beck and I excused ourselves. We'd gotten all we could get out of them and I didn't want them to get any more ideas about touching me. I usually put people in their place when they touched me without my permission, but these were just young girls and we might need to talk to them again.

Beck was on the same wavelength as me. We needed more information about the other victims first.

"Elsbeth and her beauty might be completely unrelated or it could be the very reason her family got butchered," Beck said. "Trevils would be reporting back to the Barons. Their sons would be there so they can train to be future arseholes. It could be a copycat. One of them could have done it to piggyback on the current killings."

"I suppose it's possible," I said. "But not likely. In the Jagged Key Isles, an assassin is a legitimate job. You can apprentice with them. That kind of thing is illegal in Nestran, but your ancestors passed down the training until it got to Keeva and she taught me.

"I have the tools and skills to break into a house without being seen. A mini-Baron wouldn't have that. He probably wouldn't know the first thing about breaking into a house. If he knocked and they let him in, someone would have seen. The houses in Lower Cutwart are right on top of each other. The fact that no one saw anything speaks to a certain level of skill that no one is going to have on their first kill."

"It's fucked up that you know that."

I just shrugged and winked at Beck.

"What does it say about you that you're so fascinated by it?"

"Obviously, I'm not going to think too hard about that, arsehole."

"So, we're going to have to rope Ollie into this. He has a way with people and he controls most of the booze in Guttertown. Can you manage that without fucking Lance ruining it?"

"Lance knows the Blight is someone in Guttertown, but he's not looking into who it is because he thinks they are doing good work. He would definitely care about this other person butchering innocents. Lance wouldn't fuck that up just because the two of you don't get along."

I snorted.

"Lance would rat me out to Inspector Trevils in a heartbeat."

"No, he wouldn't. I don't even think he hates you. He says it so much because he's trying to convince himself. I don't think you hate him, either."

"Shut the fuck up about Lance Argent," I growled.

As far as the subject of Lance Argent went, it was best to avoid that and the man himself entirely.