Coyle and Fang: Curse of Shadows (Coyle and Fang Adventure Series Book 1) by Robert III (best books for 7th graders .txt) 📕

She arrived at Treece’s suite and found the men had arrived earlier and were sipping drinks. Cigars hung from the mouths of those who fancied expensive tobacco. She grimaced as she remembered her pipe on the dresser. The room was impeccable in design with solid mahogany walls and cabinets, frosted-glass electric lamps and stuffed leather chairs.

As soon as she stepped into the room, everyone stopped talking and turned. In turn, she glanced at everyone else. Smoke hung in the air, though it wasn’t as thick as the tension. She had a feeling she had been the topic of conversation. And for some reason, she didn’t care. She was used to being outside the circle of her peers, and if that was her place, then so be it. She wasn’t here to impress anyone. Not anymore.

“Would you like something to drink?” Treece asked. The look in his eyes suggested this wasn’t the time to get smashed again.

“Just soda water and lime, please.” She removed her gloves, and GEM went to the bar to retrieve her beverage. Her gaze locked onto Poes’s and the attorney nodded to an empty seat across from him but next to Bolt. She sighed and sank into the chair. Everything she had wanted to say last night lay tangled in a jumbled mess. Now wasn’t the time for that particular discussion. She’d have to wait. In the meantime, she rubbed her temples, feeling the heat from their eyes as if she had to answer for something. Well, let them ask. Let’s see what inane questions they have for me today.

“Now we have everyone here,” Vonteg said. “Time to find out what we know about last night’s discovery.”

“The only person we should be concentrating on is Miss Coyle,” Bolt said.

“I’m sorry,” Coyle said. “What are we talking about?”

“My Tesla-Vine Gate was destroyed last night,” Treece said.

“And we,” Duone added, motioning to everyone, “Are the suspects.”

“We,” Bolt said, mimicking Duone’s gesture, “were all together, except for her.”

“The doctor’s orders were that you stay in bed,” Poes said. “Yet you left your room and apparently wandered about the mansion until you found the evidence you collected. Care to elaborate?”

All eyes turned to her. The familiar sensation of heat rising in her cheeks wouldn’t help her innocence. But she was innocent, of course.

“The constant accusations against me are getting a bit overused, don’t you think? But I understand your concern, and I’m only too happy to steer you in the right direction—and away from me especially,” Coyle said. “I did leave my room. Based on the excitement I had earlier in the day, I knew there wouldn’t be any rest on my schedule. My mind was busy with what I had discovered, and I had to untangle the mess.”

“You’re talking about the notes,” Duone said.

“I am. And I felt I could prove more useful by using my strengths than by resting.”

“Is getting hammered one of your strengths?” Bolt asked.

“I had a very hard day, one that will stay in my mind for longer than I wish,” she said. “I’m sure you, being a wrencher and all, understand having a few drinks after a long day.”

“Yes. I am a man, after all, and it’s not so uncouth to knock a few back with the boys.” Bolt huffed.

“We are not here to discuss the formalities of social drinking,” Treece said. “We are a team of well-trained people working together toward a common goal. But one of us, or someone else we aren’t aware of, is hindering our progress.”

Bolt harrumphed. Ice clinked against glass. Coyle studied the ceiling, her fingers dabbing the lines of perspiration along her hairline.

“Sorry to say,” Poes said, “but Coyle was the only one wandering around the house, while most of us were together.”

“Well, I didn’t even know the thing existed,” Coyle said, “let alone know how to destroy it. The whole matter of my involvement is preposterous. I’m here to help uncover evidence, and I’m doing it the best I can, thank you.”

“That you are,” Treece said. He gave her a confident smile, but she wasn’t sure he meant it.

“Poes, you have the most experience with cross-examination. What do you think of Miss Coyle’s explanation?” Vonteg asked.

“I believe her,” he said without hesitation. “There isn’t a bone in her body that sides with injustice or chaos.”

“And how would you know what her bones like or dislike?” Bolt asked.

“She isn’t a dislikable character,” Poes answered. “And I know good character when I see it.”

Coyle shot a glance at Poes, swallowed the rest of her drink and stood.

“Would you care for another?” Treece asked.

“I’ll get it myself, thank you,” she said. “The smoke in the room is bothering me.”

“I’m telling you—” Bolt started, but the others interrupted. Their voices rose against each other, but most, if not all, agreed with Poes’s remarks.

I’m only disliked by the one, then.

She entered the private bar and ordered her drink, a real one this time, from the automaton behind the counter. Green lights pulsed in its glass-domed head. Unlike the simpler automatons, this one resembled an octopus. Eight arms moved about with quick, precise movements. Gears and tiny pistons worked synchronously within the brass framework until a highball glass was filled with soda water and Scotch. Mechanical claws set the glass carefully on the counter and pushed a wedge of lime onto the rim of the glass. Coyle picked it up.

“Thank you,” she said.

“My automaton bartenders have won over the tavern community throughout the larger cities.” Treece smiled. “It’s the tavern girls I can’t duplicate.”

“Do you have any who can solve crimes for you?”

He turned and gave her a long look before answering.

“What, tavern girls?” He chuckled. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. No, artificial people are capable of many things, but nothing beats human intuition and instinct, or his spirit.”

She took a sip and glanced sideways at him.

“Her spirit,” he added.

“I know you appreciate my efforts, even when I’m not certain