ARDEN LEFT THE bank, slipping his green derby onto his head as he shrunk back down to his true size. He was surprised Kerry Underwood hadn’t stopped by at all during the day. He wondered where her investigating took her that would keep her from him all day; at least, physically. Mentally, Kerry resided in his thoughts since he left her last night. They shared a couple of more kisses, but that was as far as he wanted to push anything, still unsure of what exactly he felt for the woman. Among the shifters of Black Hollow, there was a thing called the Mating Call, where their animals would feel the pull of someone they were fated to be with for the rest of their lives. Yet, he never heard of it happening to a leprechaun. He didn’t know if that was it or not. What he did know was that Kerry Underwood consumed his thoughts, and he wanted to get to know her better. He also knew that probably wouldn’t happen until they found her sister.
As Arden made his way down the sidewalk, he spotted Quinn entering Thirst Bar. Something about his friend was off lately, and Arden wished he knew what it was. Usually, Quinn was a chipper sort of fellow, always cutting up and giving everyone else a hard time. However, lately, he came across more bitter, and Arden didn’t think the cause was the threat to the gold. The leprechaun had even been absent most of the day, and the few times Arden had spotted him, Quinn seemed to be sulking in dark corners. Whatever bugged his friend did a great job of twisting him in knots.
Arden stopped where he was and stared down at the bar, sighing. He really wanted to go to the Daydreamer Inn and see what consumed Kerry’s attention all day, but he felt pulled to see what troubled his friend, as well. Groaning, he continued toward Thirst Bar, knowing that somehow he would regret his decision.
Black Hollow possessed only a handful of bars for its residents to enjoy, and two of them proved prejudice still existed even in the paranormal world. Stoney’s Bar was off-limits to any paranormal that wasn’t part animal, which really struck Arden as odd since the bar was owned by the town’s police chief, Sebastian Thayer. How could he protect all the people while leaving a specific group from his establishment? The Thirst Bar retaliated by banning all animal shifters. They may even charge police officers double, but Arden couldn’t prove that. Of course, Jackson Lantern, the owner of Thirst, said his banning of animal shifters was because he didn’t like fur on his furniture. Arden doubted shifters shed when in their human form, however. The little spat between factions didn’t bother him as Thirst Bar offered karaoke and trivia night.
The establishment was also a more relaxed and laid back environment, which suited Arden just fine. The interior consisted of rich wood furniture, the chairs with deep leather seats. The bar rested in the middle of the place, also wood with a wraparound rack dangling from the ceiling with glasses and extra bottles of liquor. Jackson had even added taller barstools to accommodate the smaller of the faeries, like the leprechauns, gnomes, and other faeries. Along the walls of Thirst perched booths, some larger than others to accommodate different-sized crowds. The lighting was kept low, and Jackson played country music through the speakers in the ceiling most of the time. The owner, Jackson, was an odd sort of fellow, an orange tint to his skin and eyes that always seemed to burn a fiery orange. He kept to himself mostly, choosing to forsake the typical bartender with an ear role a person found in most other bars. He poured the drinks, collected the money, and slunk away with barely a hello. He probably would lose his clients with his sullen mood, except with few bars in town and one of them closed off to witches and faeries, Thirst was one of the few alternatives.
Arden stopped just inside the entrance, glancing around until he spotted Quinn sulking over by the bar, his shoulders slumped as he bent over the bar, already nursing a pint. Arden sighed. Ale was not strong enough to bolster his friend’s mood of late, that was sure.
With a deep breath, Arden made his way over to the empty barstool beside Quinn, the other patrons sensing the leprechaun’s sour mood and giving him a wide berth. Arden wished he could do the same, as he truly wanted to be somewhere else. Instead, he ordered a Jameson from Jackson, and then turned to his friend. “Look at the state o’ you. Two days in a row,” he said. “I suppose I should be glad you came here after hours, instead of during lunch.”
“Bugger off,” Quinn said as he lifted his glass to his mouth again. “Let me be in peace.”
Arden shook his head. “Not until I know what’s gotten in your craw.”
Quinn shook his head. “Nothing I care to talk about with the likes of you.” He downed a healthy swallow of his ale, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when he was through. “Now, I ask you to kindly leave me be in peace.”
“What the hell’s gotten into ya?” Arden asked as he shifted on his stool to face his friend better. “You’ve been a cranky bugger for a few days now, and I don’t get it. Are ya still mad about me hiring that investigator lady? Quinn, we needed help. I told ya. I didn’t know who to trust in this town.”
Quinn shook his head, his dark red locks swishing across his forehead. “Nah. You were right to bring in the detective. She’s brainy and exactly what we need to figure out who wants the gold. She’s like a dog on a bone, that one. She’ll keep pursuing it until she digs up the right bastard.”
“Then what the hell is under your skin?” Arden couldn’t figure it out. The whole time, he assumed Quinn’s surliness was because Arden hired the private investigator against his wishes. Now the man praised her, like she was the godsend they needed.
Quinn spun on his friend, his eyes bloodshot and filled with pain as well as anger. “Because she chose that right bastard Paddy over me, that’s what.” He turned back around and slumped some more on his stool.
Arden just waited, his brows pinched in disbelief. He hadn’t even known the two of them were seeing each other.
After a couple of minutes, Quinn continued. “Brandie met me for drinks a couple of nights after she arrived. She wanted to pick my noggin for more information about how someone could break into the vault. Soon, the conversation switched from the gold to me being a leprechaun and the magic that surrounded me. After a couple more rounds, we went back to my place in the woods, and I showed her how she could enter my little hovel. She spent the night with me, and before I closed my eyes to sleep, I knew Brandie Underwood was the one for me.” He glanced over at Arden. “I’ve never felt so connected to anyone before in my life as I did with her. I spent a few nights at the inn with her, and the more time I spent with her, the deeper I fell.”
Arden couldn’t believe what he heard. Quinn had fallen in love? With an outsider? He hated outsiders.
Quinn turned back around, staring into his ale. “Then, a few days later, I see her with that bastard Paddy McDuffy, and they’re laughing and carrying on like they’re long-lost friends. I watched as they went to Fireside Grille, and I just left. Later that night, I went to her room at the inn and confronted her, told her to stay away from Paddy, that he was bad news. She told me to stay out of her business. She would do whatever she felt she needed to do to solve this case.” He turned back to face Arden. “That’s all I was to her. Someone she needed to help her solve her bloody case.” He shrugged. “I told her we didn’t need her or people like her and to get the hell out of Black Hollow. That was the last time anyone saw her.”
“So, you really do think she just left?” Arden didn’t believe it. She would have at least asked for her money, at least reported to him that she had been tossed off the case. Unless, of course, she thought Quinn spoke for both of them.
“Aye, I do,” Quinn said with a whisper. “I let me anger get the better of me and chased away the only woman who ever touched me heart.”
Arden reached out, gripping Quinn’s hand, waiting until the other man looked at him. “That doesn’t make sense, though,” he said. “If Brandie left, then why didn’t she tell her sister? Why would Kerry think Brandie just vanished?”
Quinn just stared at Arden, his brows pinched in the same confusion.
Arden shook his head. “No. Brandie Underwood didn’t leave. We’re still missing something. I just need to figure out what it is.”