He was staring through the sliding glass doors at Willow.
“Nuts!” Ben exclaimed in dismay. He had forgotten all about Willow.
He went into the bedroom, took down a bathrobe, and went out onto the balcony. He placed the robe gently around Willow’s slender shoulders. She looked up at him questioningly, her eyes distant and haunted.
“Miles is here,” he told her quietly.
She nodded and rose to join him. They walked back into the living room to confront the still-paralyzed man who was clutching his briefcase like a shield. “Miles, this is Willow,” he said.
Miles seemed to remember himself. “Oh, yeah, pleased to meet you… Willow,” he stammered.
“Willow is from Landover, Miles,” Ben explained. “From where I live now. She’s a sylph.”
Miles looked at him. “A what?”
“A sylph. A mix of wood nymph and water sprite.”
“Sure.” Miles smiled uneasily. “She’s green, Doc.”
“That’s just her coloring.” Ben was suddenly uncomfortable. “Look, why don’t we sit down on the sofa and have a look at what you brought, Miles.”
Miles nodded, his eyes still on Willow. The sylph smiled briefly, then turned and moved off into the bedroom. “You know, it’s a good thing I’m standing here having this conversation with you, Doc, and actually seeing this girl, rather than hearing about her over the phone,” Miles said quietly. “Otherwise, I’d be tempted to write you off as a certified nut case.”
Ben smiled. “I don’t blame you.” He dropped onto the sofa and motioned Miles to join him.
“A sylph, huh?” Miles shook his head. “So all that stuff about a world of magic with dragons and fairy creatures was real after all. That right, Doc? Was it all real?”
Ben sighed. “Some of it, anyway.”
“My God.” Miles slowly sat down beside him, a stunned look on his face. “You aren’t kidding me, are you? It really exists? Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? I can see it in your face. And that girl… she’s, well, she’s beautiful, different, something like you’d imagine would live in a fairy world. Damn, Doc!”
Ben nodded. “We can talk about it some more later, Miles. But what about the information I asked you to get? Any luck?”
Miles was staring at Willow through the bedroom door as she undraped the bathrobe and stepped off into the shower. “Uh, yeah,” he said finally. He unsnapped his briefcase and pulled out an orange-colored file. “Here’s what the investigators got on this Michel Ard Rhi character. And, believe me, he’s a character with a capital C.”
Ben accepted the file, opened it, and quickly began to scan its contents. The first page offered general history. Michel Ard Rhi. Birthplace, parents, age, early history all unknown. A financier, mostly through private concerns. Net worth estimated at two hundred twenty-five million dollars. Lived outside Woodinville, Washington—Washington?–in a castle purchased and then shipped, block by block, from Great Britain. Unmarried. No hobbies, no clubs, no organizations.
“Not much here,” he remarked.
“Keep reading,” Miles said.
He did. On the second page, it began to get interesting. Michel Ard Rhi kept his own private army. He had helped finance several revolutions in foreign countries. He owned pieces of banking institutions, major arms corporations, even a few foreign government-subsidized industries. There was a suggestion that he might be involved in a good deal more, but there was no hard evidence. He had been charged with various criminal acts, mostly fraud related to SEC violations, although there was something about animal cruelty, but he had never been convicted. He traveled extensively, always with bodyguards, always by private transport.
Ben closed the file. “Washington, huh? I don’t get it. I was sure Las Vegas was where we would find…”
“Wait a minute, Doc,” Miles interrupted quickly. “There’s something more, something that just turned up yesterday. It’s pretty farfetched, but it might tie in somehow with this guy being up there in Washington.”
He dug through his briefcase and extracted a single sheet of typed paper. “Here we go. The investigators threw this in after I told them I wanted anything they could find on a talking dog. Seems one of them has some contacts in the scandal sheet business. Listen to this. Some fellow living in Woodinville, Washington—same place, right—tried to make a deal with Hollywood Eye for a hundred thousand dollars cash on delivery for an exclusive interview and photo session with a genuine talking dog!”