"Sure, I can help you free your hair." He stepped closer, his leather and peaches scent stuttering my heartbeat. "So what happened in here that got you trapped and made Studmuffin blaze toward me like his favorite witch was in trouble?"

"Detective Palmer. He stole something from in here." The same Detective Palmer who'd taken something from Chauffeur Ethen's passenger seat and sent him a mysterious text before he died. If I hadn't seen both instances with my own eyes, I still ...