“Am I right?” I tackled the soup; its sweet, tangy flavor danced on my tongue as the cool liquid slid down my throat. It was heavenly.
“Some of it,” he hedged.
Interesting. I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.
“So I can come?” I asked hopefully.
“No.” He smiled, revealing that pointed incisor. “But thanks for the demonstration.”
Disappointment fluttered in my chest. If he didn’t need me for my connections or observations, I only had one thing left to offer. Maybe I was rushing into this, but the small chance that this could be an opportunity to learn more about Slipping made it worth going out on a wire. Plus, I couldn’t let it go so easily knowing Papá might be in danger. No matter how bad our relationship was, I’d never wish for him to be hurt.
And maybe, just a small part of me, wanted to see if people would react as poorly as I expected them too. I could tell him at least part of the truth and see how it went.
“There is one other thing,” I said slowly.
“Which is?”
I looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to us before focusing back on him. “There’s another way I can help, but it’s probably easier to show than explain.”
“I’m going to need a little more than that.”
I lowered my voice until it was so quiet that my pounding heart and the rumble of chatter almost drowned it out. I’d known it might come to this, and while I wasn’t the same girl who’d blindly listened to Papá for all those years, ignoring the warning that had been ingrained in me for years left my pulse racing. “I can see things.”
“That makes two of us.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I mean I can see things that have already happened.”
Detective Atwood’s eyebrows shot up and I didn’t blame him. What I was saying made me sound like I had a screw loose.
“If you give me a chance, I can prove it.”
Detective Atwood leaned back in his chair, studying me. I finished my soup and tried not to fiddle with my spoon while I waited. Finally, he said, “How?”
“Take me to your office, and I’ll show you.” I met his serious gaze with my own.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let you accompany me to the station,” he said. “If you can prove you can be beneficial to the case, then we’ll talk.”
I blinked, then tried to cover my surprise and pleasure by cutting into my neglected sandwich. He’d accepted that more easily than I’d thought he would. The hearty bread, toasted to perfection, was filled with seasoned meats, tangy pickles, and a creamy spread. I focused on the flavors instead of my nerves to keep them from getting the better of me. I’d never Slipped to prove anything to anyone before, and I wasn’t sure how Detective Atwood would react. But it didn’t matter how strange he thought I was if it would allow me to help...
“We can go as soon as you’re done eating,” Detective Atwood said with a smile.
“Then, I’m done.” I started to stand.
Detective Atwood looked down at my plate. “You don’t want to finish that?”
I flushed, realizing how very Upper Chimes I must’ve looked. I’d learned how precious food was in my trips to the Lower Chimes, yet I’d let myself forget. “I’m taking it with me,” I said as if that had been my plan all along. I wrapped the remaining half of my sandwich in a napkin and made my way to the front as Detective Atwood grabbed his saber from where it leaned against the wall.
A woman in an apron bustled around behind the counter.
“Can I open a tab for this establishment?” I asked her, realizing a moment too late that I hadn’t brought enough money to cover a meal. A tab would blow my cover, but I didn’t have many other options.
She snorted and looked me up and down, gaze lingering on my gloves. “Honey, how am I gonna feed my family with a tab? We only accept cash here.”
My stomach sank. Since I’d walked today, I hadn’t even brought fare for a steamcab. Cheeks burning, I admitted, “I’m sorry. I didn’t bring any money.”
“Then you can work off your debt in the back, scrubbing dishes.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder and jerked her head to the side.
Now my face was really burning. “All right—”
Detective Atwood caught up and grabbed my hand. “That’s not necessary, Mazel. Today’s meals are on me.”
The warmth of his hand bled through my glove, and I looked down, hoping my cheeks weren’t heating even though I could feel them.
With his free hand, he pulled out two knuts and passed them to Mazel, who snatched them up in a wrinkled hand. “A pleasure as always,” he said as he pulled me out the door.
As soon as we were outside, he laughed. “You don’t get out much, do you?”
I pulled my hand free and stuck my chin up. “I do, just not like this.” Geneve and I had been here many times, but only to pass out the bundles of clothes and food. I’d never been in a restaurant in the Lower Chimes. “Thank you for earlier,” I said. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He gave me a wide grin but kept walking. At least he didn’t say anything about my red cheeks. “Shall I get a steamcab to take us back?”
“I don’t mind walking.” Any chance to walk around the city freely felt like a chance to experience it in a brand-new way.
Detective Atwood gave me a bemused glance as he led us down another path that took us closer to the Iron Docks. The soft slap of water on the hulls and the scent of fish drifted to us.
“What?” I asked a little self-consciously.
“I’ve just never met a woman quite like you from the Upper Chimes.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Oh no, not at all.” He rested a hand on his saber while his gaze continuously scanned the crowded streets, searching for danger. Even now, he wasn’t off duty. “I admire people who aren’t afraid to do the unexpected—it isn’t always an easy thing to do.”
I smiled at his praise. I didn’t know many people like him either. My world was filled with men like Papá and Desmarc, men of words rather than action.
“Well, as long as different is good,” I said, “please take me to the victim’s things.”