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Tee-time with councilman Fontaine the next day was an absolute bore. I think I had dentist appointments that were more thrilling. I showed up with my hair slicked back into a low ponytail. It had grown a couple inches since the last time I’d met with the council a few days back, and I didn’t think he’d be impressed by hipster waves. A crisp green polo shirt the color of my eyes, well-fitted slacks, and the best pair of golf shoes I could snag on short notice rounded out what I hoped said idle rich boy as I fiddled with my shiny clubs and stroked the city council president’s ego.
Apparently, Fontaine only had one other customer who utilized his dumping services, if I was reading between the lines correctly. If I took him up on his offer, I’d only be his second revenue stream.
So, he was new at this. And not half as smooth as he thought he was. There was something nervous about Fontaine, something...untrue in his aura.
I sighed as I sank the last put. Filtering toxins from my dip in the river yesterday had left me with a headache and a fuzzy, fatigued feeling most of last night. I was still feeling stupidly restless and...let’s face it, freaking lonely, the combined neediness of my fae and kraken lineage insisting I needed companionship, touch, affection. A lover to coddle. Gods, so much for my nice, relaxing case. I was ridiculous.
Finally, I got fed up with the game—both the golf and the puzzle solving. The EPA might be happier with more evidence. But I was done playing nice. In fact, I was done playing at all. I tossed my club into the bag with more force and far less care than someone who actually played golf. We had this section of the course to ourselves for the time being, a move that was probably carefully orchestrated by Fontaine to ensure we could talk business.
I smiled at him as I leaned against the golf cart, pulling on powers that were dangerously seductive, and dipped into my personal reserves. “You’re dumping by air,” I said evenly, making sure my eyes caught his.
The old man blinked at me in confusion for a second before his weak mind slid under my influence. “Large drone.”
I nodded. “So the person paying you to get rid of their waste doesn’t produce much volume.”
He shifted from foot to foot, and I poured on the charm. “Come on, Fontaine. Let’s not play games.”
He swallowed. “Only about a couple gallons a week. Small stuff. I can’t dump too much all at once.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, my pulse pounding in my head with the effort of mindfucking the guy after yesterday’s poisoning. “Who’s your client?”
He struggled against me briefly, but I was fae royalty. He didn’t stand a chance. “Youth Springs.”
I narrowed my eyes. The name rang a bell, for some reason. Youth Springs was a water brand that played up St. Augustine’s claims about the fountain of youth being discovered by some Spanish conquistador or other....
Suddenly the information clicked, my hours of boring research finally paying off. “That’s your company, Fontaine. Why the hell would you pay yourself to dump your own waste?”
His eyes bulged and it looked like his tiny brain was about to blow a gasket. “It’s a front. So if I get caught it looks like I’m just dumping my own waste.”
I rubbed my forehead to ease the ache there. I needed to speed this up, so I didn’t end up completely drained. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
He shrugged, face going slack as he finally gave in completely to the mind control. “Because they paid me. If I don’t do it, they’ll ruin me.”
I sighed. Blackmail. Of course. I wondered what it was this time. Infidelity? A taste for underage prostitutes or something? But honestly, I didn’t care. All that mattered was figuring out who was poisoning the water. “Who’s really behind this, dumbass?”
He gave me moony eyes, as if I was just the best thing since sliced bread. “Pharma-X. And now they’ll kill me cause I blabbed.”
I rolled my eyes. “What are they dumping?” The chemical compound was a strange one, not something that really matched up with the usual hazardous waste. And it was being chucked out in such small amounts.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just do what I get paid to do.”
Of course. Useless. I had the who. If I wanted the why, I was going to have to go digging around this Pharma-X company. I could turn it over to the police now. But something bothered me. I felt like I only had half of the information. Leaving the puzzle partially solved didn’t sit well.
Besides, I had better means of getting information than the usual legal authorities did. The police still tended to be largely human, and what supes were on the force were carefully vetted to ensure they didn’t use their magic or abilities in “unsavory” ways. Che. Like mind manipulation, Io?
I took a deep breath and focused on Fontaine. Whatever the fuck he was wrapped up in, it sounded a bit more serious than just money. He was well and truly under my spell now. If he said that the people paying him would kill him, he probably wasn’t exaggerating.
“Okay, my darling asshole,” I said in a soothing voice. “Here’s what you’re going to do.” I then spent the next few minutes guiding him through a bunch of evasive maneuvers to wipe away all memory of our conversation. As far as he knew, I’d ended up being a cheap ass and declined his offer for waste disposal.
He also now believed I’d beaten him at golf and his dick was too small.
Eh, what can I say? I was raised by monsters and trained in mind manipulation by an ancient fae trickster. I couldn’t help myself.
Leaving the golf course, I headed for my favorite coffee shop. I needed caffeine and sugar to ease the pounding headache I’d just given myself. And...if I was hoping for an opportunity to explain myself to a certain cute barista and get rid of this damned aching emptiness inside me? Well, I could only fight against my nature for so long.