Page 175 of The Rust in Her Hair

We're barely three steps into the marble entryway when Calla comes around the corner, a stack of folders pressed against her chest. She stops dead at the sight of me.

"Lyra." Her whole face lights up, and then she catches it and smooths it back to something proper. She shifts the folder to one hip. "Thomas, I can take Ms. Lyra up to Mrs. Van Houten, if you like."

Thomas nods quickly, and I don't miss the relief that crosses him at being handed something else to do. "Thank you, Calla. Madam is expecting Ms. Lyra in the sunroom." He gives me one last look, and then he's gone down the hall the other way.

Calla waits until his footsteps fade. Then she leans in close, her voice dropping low and fast.

"The police are here."

My mouth falls open. "What?" I glance back toward the front windows. "I didn't see any police cars."

"Two detectives. They came in a plain car. That sedan out front." She looks over her shoulder, then takes my hand and holds it tight, and her voice drops even lower. "Lyra. Mr. Maleth is dead."

The floor seems to drop an inch beneath me. "What?"

"Murdered. They found him Tuesday morning, in the parking garage under Maleth Media. They think he died Monday night." Her eyes search mine, full of worry, "Somebody killed him."

I stare at her. Monday night. The same night Nico and Adrian met with Crispin. The same night Mack roughed him up.

Behind me, I feel Nico and Adrian go still. They don't make a sound. They don't seem to breathe. They stand at my back like two men cut out of stone.

"Wow." I bring my hand up, placing it over my heart. "Do they know who did it?"

Calla shakes her head, her voice slipping into a whisper. "The police were here only two days ago, and there back again today.” She glances around, before adding, “I overheard one of them say that your father is a suspect."

My eyes go wide as I try to picture it. Could my father actually kill someone? I don’t think so but…maybe?

Adrian clears his throat. "I don't mean to be rude." His voice comes out perfectly smooth. "But we do have lunch plans, and I'd hate to keep Mrs. Van Houten waiting."

"Of course. God, I'm sorry." Calla squeezes my hand once and lets go. "Come on. She's in the sunroom."

Calla leads us down the long hall toward the back of the house, where the light grows brighter, and we round the last corner, and there she is.

Lavinia stands outside the sunroom doors in a column of cream. She’s wearing an ivory silk blouse and wide-legged trousers the color of bone, with a rope of pearls at her throat. Her platinum hair is swept back off her face, and she’s holding a pale drink that doesn't look like it’s been touched.

As we get closer, I can hear her speak in a low, clipped tone to two men in gray suits.

The older of the two turns as we approach. He has silver at the temples and tired, kind eyes that don't quite match the sharpness underneath them.

"Hello," he says to me. "I’m Detective Warren. And this is Detective Wong."

"This is my daughter." Lavinia's voice slices clean across his, but she doesn't look at me. "My omega daughter. She knows nothing about any of this, Detective, so I'll thank you not to waste your breath."

"Artemis Van Houten?" he says, like he’s making sure he knows who I am.

I nod and give him a polite smile. "Everyone calls me Lyra."

"I’m glad to see you," he says as he takes a small notebook out of his front breast pocket. He flips the pages, clearly looking for some kind of note.

The second detective is younger and heavier through the shoulders, and his eyes are zeroed in on both Adrian and Nico’s faces. Not leaving once.

"Here we are," Detective Warren smiles at his notebook. "Mr. Maleth mentioned to a colleague that he took a call from you the night he died. Monday. Is that true, miss?"

I press my hand to my mouth and let my eyes go wide and wet. "Oh my God. I did. I did call him. Is he really—" I let the sentence fall apart, trying to look too overwhelmed to answer clearly.

No one wants to talk to a hysterical omega.

"What did the two of you talk about?" he asks gently.