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A Cold Case in Spell Page 17
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“Her daughter? But she doesn’t have wings. Is that how the fairy blood line works?” I was really, really going to need to hit up the history of this place once we got the goods on Geraldine and turned her into the police. Even a huge stack of dry reading materials would be better than being thrown in a jail cell for a crime I didn’t commit.
“I guess so. I can’t think of any other halflings like her off the top of my head but there are more people here than I personally know. It… it looks like something’s wrong with Geraldine. Wait! Oh, for hooting out loud! DUCK!”
I did exactly that, just in time too, as the window cracked open above our heads. No one said anything and from the sound of it, whoever had opened it was walking away.
“Okay, I think the coast is clear,” Goldie whispered.
I slowly stood back up, spreading my hands out across the brick wall. The smell of something fruity wafted out the window, with the burn of cheap alcohol. Someone was making margaritas.
There was a loud sob, but I couldn’t see anything but bricks from my viewpoint. I had to rely on Goldie to be my eyes, though I could faintly hear what was going on.
“Mom. You can’t let yourself get so worked up like this.”
Someone—Geraldine I assumed—blew their nose until it honked and started sobbing all over again.
“But it could’ve been my fault! If it was, then I have to do something about it!” she cried, letting out a low moan. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Goldie grasped my shoulder tighter.
“Let up, too tight!” I hissed at her under my breath. Thankfully she relaxed some.
The blender went off and even from out here we could hear them drinking their icy, boozy drinks.
“If she wasn’t so… so stubborn! And so wretched!” Geraldine howled. “Listen to me, I’m the worst kind of friend. Talking about the deceased in such a way.”
My eyes went wide. It could’ve been her fault… what could’ve been her fault? They were obviously discussing Beatrice, what with the mention of a woman being stubborn and wretched.
Her daughter sighed. “Let’s face it Mom, your spellwork isn’t great. Your water magic is fantastic, but even if you did try to cast a spell to stop her from… what was it again?”
“Stop her from using harsh words.”
“Right, to do that. Even if it worked, and I’m not so sure it did, it had nothing to do with what happened to her that night. You weren’t there, so you have no idea. She might have just slipped and fell down the ravine without a chance to catch the air. And it might have caused that avalanche. We don’t know.”
“No. It was me. I did it. If I hadn’t gotten so mad at that woman, then I wouldn’t have needed to do the spell. It shouldn’t have gone wrong.”
“Mom! Stop that. It. Wasn’t. You. If someone is responsible for what happened to Beatrice then they’ve done a terrible thing, but it wasn’t you who did it. Your spell wouldn’t have done whatever happened to her. You and Maude got yourself so wrapped up in being Beatrice’s friends that you let her berate you whenever she chose. You can’t be all that upset that someone like that is out of your life, can you?” Her daughter groaned. “I take it back. Sorry. Here’s a ‘rita, try to relax.”
I tapped Goldie on the wing and she finally took off, rebalancing me. The weight of her made me feel like a hunchback.
We were down a good block or so before I stopped her. “Do you believe her daughter? About Geraldine being terrible with spellwork?”
“Fairies don’t do spellwork. Their magic works in different ways. A lot of witches, especially the older ones, only rely on their elemental abilities. So spellwork isn’t something most of them are gifted at. She’s probably right.”
“We’re coming up empty, yet again. I was really hoping we’d get something more than that.”
“At least we know it wasn’t Geraldine.”
I kept walking, shoving my hands even deeper in my pockets. “There are many, many more people who didn’t kill Beatrice, than there are who did. It doesn’t really help us much,” I grumbled.
“They found your crowbar in the snow, right?” Goldie asked a couple of blocks later. “The big black one?”
I nodded.
“Do you know about fairies and iron? Iron burns their skin. Now, I don’t know how much of an effect that would have on a halfling, but I do know your crowbar is made of it.”
I stopped. “Wait. You’re right. I didn’t think I’d have to turn into Ash to figure this one out, but I’m thinking some research into fairies might help us with the answer for that.”
Goldie chittered. “Back to the library, it is.”
23
Wrinkle In The Plan
There were definitely bags under my eyes. Goldie couldn’t even sit upright without leaning to the side. Her eyes drooped closed more times than I could count.
“Hey. You can’t fall asleep on the job,” I said, nudging her. She responded by whopping me in the head with her wing, ‘accidentally.’
“I think we’ve gone through every book on fairies,” she said with a yawn. “We got our answer. Now let’s get some sleep.”
“You go on ahead home. Wherever that is,” I said, also yawning. Yawning is so odd—how is something like that contagious? Okay, clearly I’m sleep-deprived. “I’m involved with studying.”
“Suit yourself. Do me a favor and let me out, would you?”
I thanked her for all of her help overnight, searching through the stacks of books all about fairy lore. She was right in that we found the answer to the original question. Even halflings had an aversion to iron, though it didn’t exactly burn their skin as make them sick to their stomachs.
But there was so much more to know, and in the middle of the night I found myself poring over the history of fairies. It was so fascinating to flip through it all and compare the truth to what people had written about in cryptozoology and Celtic lore. Some of it was based in truth, but some of it was way off-base.
For example, fairies are not these tiny little creatures, they are the same size as any normal human being. And what people claim to be as different races of fairy are actually titles, or jobs. Some have them, some don’t. I got a good kick out of seeing that leprechauns were real, but they didn’t all gave curly red hair and beards, with little green suits and hats. They were those fairies who were the smartest with math and usually worked jobs that require a lot of that kind of knowledge. Maybe that was where the pot of gold idea came from.
And even more interesting was that not all fairies have wings. Most do, but some are born without them. Unfortunately those who are tend to be seen as outcasts and therefore work the harder jobs. At least in fairy towns. Fairy kingdoms were a thing of the past, just like the idea of feudalism.
I leaned back in my chair to stretch after who knows how long since Goldie left. Judging by the windows it was nearly noon.
Ash did me the courtesy of not sneaking up on me this time as he walked over with a plate and a glass of ice water. My mouth was watering before he even made it half-way here.
“Fresh hamburgers from Benedict Brown’s farm. You don’t know how many twitchy shifters I had to fight for a quarter pound of it.”
“Well in that case,” I said, taking the plate and a big whiff of the burger. “I feel like it’s been months since I’ve had one. Oh man, this smells good. Thank you.”
“It’s the best I could do. The rest of the week will be lighter fare. The fairies are working on it, though. Before the time spell, they were well on their way to developing something that would help everyone with their food intake. Since we’re low on fresh food at the moment, it’s been something they’ve been working on even harder.”
I was only half-listening. It was a small burger, but it was cooked to perfection, and covered in some kind of delicious cheese. I could understand it lacking the vegetables and the condiments, but it was hot and fresh out of the pan with a toasted bun so I was in heaven.
&nbs
p; “You uh, got a little something there,” Ash said, failing miserably at hiding the smile on his face.
“Mmhm.” Like I cared. All I could do was savor every bite. I wiped at my face where he was pointing. “Better?”
“Yes. Though you might want to hold your hamburger over the plate. You’re getting it everywhere.”
“Sorry,” I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in days. “I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”
“Having no fresh anything on hand for the past eleven years has definitely been a—”
The doors to the library opened, bringing Deputy Chief Putnam inside. He tipped his hat at us as he approached in full uniform.
“Afternoon Ash, Miss Warren.”
“Hello,” I said, immediately on guard. Whatever this was about was sure to interrupt my meal and I glanced down at the half-eaten burger, my stomach still growling.
“Did you need to check out some books?” Ash asked him. Of course he knew that wasn’t what the Deputy Chief was here for.
Deputy Chief Putnam relaxed his hands at his side. “No. I’ve come to let you know that we’ve officially taken down the crime scene.”
My thoughts sharpened and I set the plate down. “Did you arrest the murderer, then?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. But we are bound by law to only keep a crime scene active for a certain amount of time. And considering the camper is where you’re currently residing, and we have found no new evidence linking to the murder investigation, we cannot keep you from it.”
My jaw dropped. It wasn’t the answer I’d hoped for, but it was the next best thing. “I can go back to my camper?”
“Yes. I apologize on behalf of the police department for taking so long but we had to be as thorough as possible. I hope you understand.”
I understood that this was as big of an apology as I would be granted. I threw on a smile. “I appreciate it. And nothing has been removed?” They best believe if one thing was gone, I’d know. And I’d raise a fuss.
“No, ma’am. Nothing’s missing. You are free to return to it as soon as you’d like.”
Something came over me, rushing up before I had a chance to filter it through. “You have to believe me, Deputy. I had nothing to do with what happened to Mrs. Wimberly.” It was rash, I knew, but between the two of them, junior seemed way more reasonable. Maybe if I plead my case a little more…
He looked at me curiously, studying me with a funny look on his face. Like he was actually listening to what I’ve been saying all along…
“We’ll get to the bottom of this, and if you had nothing to do with it then there’s nothing to worry about. My father will give you a public apology, in that case. As will I.”
“We’re looking forward to it,” Ash said, crossing his arms.
They stared each other down in a way that spoke of something that had absolutely nothing to do with me.
Deputy Chief tipped his hat again. “We’ll keep in touch if anything changes, Miss Warren.”
“Thank you.”
I waited until he was gone before turning to Ash. “What was all that about?”
“All what?” Oh, he could play coy all he wanted to. I knew beef between people when I saw it.
“That whole macho, whose-is-biggest contest the two of you just participated in. You looked like you were one bell away from throwing a hook at him.”
“Boxing isn’t my thing. And I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He pointed to the table. “Aren’t you going to eat that?”
I pursed my lips. “Obviously. But don’t think you can distract me with food. Even if it is delicious,” I said, my stomach gurgling. I only felt a tiny bit embarrassed by how fast I scarfed the rest of my lunch down.
After washing up my dirty dishes, I took a look around the rest of the kitchen. It could do with some extra cleaning, so I grabbed the cleaning supplies from a closet by the bathroom and got to work. Wiping down counters, cabinets, the baseboard even. The floor was sparkling by the time I was finished sweeping and then mopping.
I re-organized the food in the pantry and in the fridge, and a small sense of accomplishment swept over me. But then I left the kitchen and walked back out into the main library.
When was the last time Ash had cleaned in here? The tables and chairs could definitely use some dusting. The lamps, too. In fact I think a few of them had lightbulbs in need of replacing… and this floor! Ugh!
The dark red carpet reminded me of this old movie theater that only played one movie each month that I used to go to when I was a teenager. The carpet would take some doing, but I could probably take a couple of days to vacuum, steam clean, and if I could maybe get ahold on my water powers better that might—
I stopped.
What in the world was I doing? Making a list a mile long of things to do in this old place, when there was a perfectly capable caretaker somewhere in the town’s historical section? I frowned at myself.
I’d been dragging my feet. But why? I was ready to be back in my own space again, or what little I had of it, anyway. This was just a temporary move until I could return to it, and now I could.
I slowly shut the guest room door behind myself and took a good look around. It wasn’t much, but it was a safe, warm place to hole up from the snow and whatever else still lurked in the woods.
On one hand, I’d be closer to Fatima’s in the camper. On the other hand, the shower here in the guest bathroom was leagues better than the set-up I had in the camper. And the food situation too…
No. I wasn’t going to start relying solely on others. I could handle myself just fine. I would still need a way to pay for things in town, but I’d get to that point when I could. The main priority was the investigation—I couldn’t exactly worry about paying for food if I was stuck in a jail cell. Or worse.
It didn’t take long for me to pack everything up, since I hadn’t been allowed to bring all that much with me in the first place. I was just about to flip off the lights when I realized I was leaving the fire roaring in the fireplace. I swear, you can’t take me anywhere.
With a flick of my wrist, I commanded it to sputter out. The flames died down a bit, but it took some extra oomph from me for it to finally turn to nothing but embers in the ashes. A grin cut across my face as I left the room.
“Leaving so soon?” Ash was coming out of the kitchen with a bulky paper bag full of something.
A funny feeling fluttered in my chest. “I might as well, before it starts getting dark out. I’m sure you’re ready to have the place to yourself again.”
He shrugged, placing the bag down on a table. “It hasn’t been the worst thing having a human being in the library. You’re not so bad when you’re not ready to rip my head off.”
I was a second away from a comeback, but the corner of his mouth was already drawn up in a crooked smile. I’d let it slide. This time.
“I guess it’s back to only having books for company. And a very weird shrine to old relics downstairs,” I said.
“It hasn’t bothered me this long. And those books could be the answer to some of the more interesting conundrums as of late.”
“And I, being the more interesting conundrum, must thank you for all of the research you muck through. Although let’s face it, you’d be doing it with or without me having shown up. I was just a wrinkle in your plan,” I deadpanned. This time I smiled.
Was that humor I saw in his eyes?
“I’ll get this stuff for you. And I also grabbed some things from the kitchen for you to take back. I doubt you have much in the camper to eat. You can keep the clothes and boots. I don’t have any use for them.” He tipped the paper bag to show me half of what he’d purchased from the store earlier in the week.
“Wow. You, uh… you didn’t have to go through all the trouble.” He was right that I didn’t have much in the way of food in the camper, but I wasn’t going to ask for him to split what he had with me. Well into my thirties, I knew my weaknesses. And a big one is m
y stubborn-streak.
Which interestingly enough, went toe to toe with Ash’s.
He ignored me. “Oh. And I filled up your truck’s gasoline tank. You mentioned something about running out of gas when you first wound up here. I figured you still needed some. I would caution against trying to pull your camper around behind it in these conditions, though.”
“That was really nice of you. And… I think I’ll just ignore the fact that you broke into Big Ben to pop the gas tank.”
He nodded and pointed to my things. “I’ll be right back.” It only took a minute for him to drop them off in the camper. “Are you ready?”
“As ever.” I hoisted the heavy paper bag and took his hand. This time I caught myself before diving headfirst into my kitchenette counter as we spun into my camper.
“There you go,” he said, sweeping his dark hair out of his eyes. “I’m going to take a look around the woods and leave you to… whatever you do.”
“Look around the woods? For what? The boogeyman?” I shook my head. “I told you, I can handle myself.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I’m doing it more my own peace of mind. If I left you here and you turned up dead not long after, I would feel guilty for caving into your stubbornness. I’m going out there to check and that’s final.” He even looked at me like I was a small child to scold. Leave it to Ash to find a way to piss me off at the drop of a hat.
I grit my teeth. “God, do you have to be so… so… ugh!” I was only moments away from stamping my foot and looking all the more ridiculous.
He slid into a smug expression. “Right back at you.”
I looked away, my cheeks in flames despite the cold whipping in from the door. You know, for someone who was actively looking out for me, Ash sure was a condescending jerk sometimes.
He turned, half in and half out of the camper. “Indie?”
I almost didn’t look at him.
“Just… be careful. If you actually manage to make any headway in your er, case, let me know. You can send Goldie by.”