“What’s the meaning of this?” Xavier asked as he entered the living room. His gaze flicked from the sheriff to his wife. “Finian?”
His wife couldn’t look him in the eye. Tears continued to stream down her face and I handed her a tissue. Impending motherhood had me carrying all sorts of ancillary items in my pockets and purse.
“It’s not what you think,” Finian said. “I had nothing to do with turning Al into a lawn ornament.”
Sheriff Astrid tapped her set of handcuffs. “I don’t need to use these, do I?”
Finian held up her hands. “I’ll come willingly.”
Xavier rushed between them. “Come willingly for what? What did you do, Fin?”
“She wanted you to win the gardening competition,” I said.
“So I sabotaged the other gardens,” Finian mumbled.
Xavier reeled back. “That was you? Why?”
Finian reached for her husband, but he withdrew. “You wanted to win so badly. You spend all your free time outside in that awful garden instead of with me.”
“Awful?” The vein in Xavier’s forehead began to throb. “How can you say that about my pride and joy?”
“I should be your pride and joy,” Finian said. “I’m your wife, except when competition season rolls around. I could disappear and you wouldn’t even notice until it was time to eat your dinner and you wondered why it wasn’t made.”
Xavier’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to make sense of his wife’s accusations. “That’s ludicrous. There’s nothing to stop you from spending time with me in the garden. I’d love company out there.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Finian said. “You like the solitude. That’s one of the reasons you enjoy it so much. An excuse to be away from me for hours on end.”
“Finian, that’s not true,” Xavier said. Sincerity spilled from him as he moved to embrace his wife. “It’s just that we weren’t able to have children and the garden has been my way of creating something that comes from me. It’s not so much artistic expression as a biological urge. Getting to design the garden with you would be an improvement. It would be a chance to create something together.”
Finian blinked away tears. “Why did you never ask me to help? I thought you wanted to do it on your own.”
“Because I thought you weren’t interested,” Xavier said. “If you actually offer your green thumb, we might have a shot at winning next time. Your design eye is much better than mine.”
Finian smiled. “You really think so?”
He leaned forward and kissed her lips. “It’s one of your talents. I’m always telling the others about you and they make fun of me for not utilizing your skills.”
Finian threw her arms around her husband. “I’m so happy to hear you say that.”
Sheriff Astrid and I exchanged looks and I knew what she was thinking. Poor Finian and Xavier could’ve avoided this mess by openly communicating with each other. Thankfully, Finian would only be charged with a misdemeanor. I envisioned six months of community service in her future. Of course, Xavier would have to face the anguished faces of the friends whose gardens she decimated.
Xavier released his wife and looked at us. “I thought the Gorgon was still under arrest for turning Al to stone.”
“She is,” the sheriff said. “When gardens started getting destroyed, we thought maybe we misjudged the situation.”
“You have misjudged the situation,” I said. “It’s not Althea.”
“But if Finian’s only responsible for the gardens,” Xavier said, “then Althea can still be the culprit.”
I heaved a sigh. “Except she’s not.”
“Come on, Finian,” Sheriff Astrid said. “Let’s get the paperwork done so I can meet my sister in time for dinner. I promised to eat early so she can go to harp therapy.”
“Tell her I’m not coming back to harp therapy until this baby’s born,” I said. “I have to pee every five minutes. It’s not worth it.”
Xavier covered his ears. “TMI, Emma.”
I grimaced. “Sorry.”
I let Astrid drive me back to my car before she took Finian to the station. I figured now was a good time to stop by Amanda’s workshop and see what the latest gardening gossip was. Maybe there’d been increased chatter in light of Finian’s actions.
As I entered the workshop, fragments of broken statues were scattered across the floor in front of me. Based on the mix of bright colors, these had been finished creations rather than discarded pieces.
“Amanda,” I called.
There was no answer.
I stepped carefully around the fragments. It was only when I reached the area where the kiln was located that I realized the situation was worse than it appeared. It seemed as though every statue on the workshop table had been smashed to bits. There were frogs and ladybugs but nothing else. Finian had no reason to come here and wreak havoc. Amanda was a supplier, not a competitor. I was so focused on the mess in front of me that I almost didn’t notice the full-sized statue next to the kiln.
Almost.
“Amanda?” I moved closer to inspect the statue. She still sported the bandage on her arm. Her expression reflected shock and anger. For a brief moment, I wondered whether she’d glimpsed her own reflection in a mirror, except the statue was wearing her trademark headscarf.
Someone had turned the Gorgon to stone.
“Don’t worry, Amanda,” I said, staring up at her. “We’re going to figure this out and set you free.”
I wasn’t strong enough to lift Amanda and I knew Astrid was busy processing Finian at the station. I opted to try and use magic and hoped my pregnancy didn’t trip up the spell as badly as it tripped my feet.
I focused my will, aimed Tiffany, and said, “Arms wide in sympathy/let this statue follow me.”
The statue began to slide across the floor as I walked toward the door. I checked a few times over my shoulder to make sure it was still behind me. Once I got to Sigmund, I conjured another spell that secured her to the roof of the car. I drove to the police station, hoping that Amanda didn’t fall off during the journey.
Britta was out front when I arrived and was able to get a few volunteers to carry the statue inside. Thankfully, Astrid was finished with Finian so I was able to get her full attention.
“You found her like this in her workshop?” Astrid asked.
“Yes. A lot of her creations were destroyed,” I said. “Someone wasn’t a fan of her work, it seems.”
“How is she connected to Albert, other than the fact she makes garden ornaments and he loves to garden?” Astrid asked.
“There’d been a suggestion that they were involved,” I said, “but Amanda vehemently denied it and I believe her. She said Al has a crush on her, but that’s it.”
Astrid stared at the statue. “I guess I’ll move her into the room with him. At least one of them will be happy.”
“Well, the good news is you can release Althea,” I said. “There’s no way she could have done this from a holding cell.”
Sheriff Astrid gave me a sympathetic look. “You know I’d like to let her go, but this doesn’t prove she didn’t turn Albert Geary to stone. It only proves she didn’t turn her sister into a statue.”
Ugh, I couldn’t win on this one. “What are you going to do next?” I asked.
“Miranda’s the only one left,” the Valkyrie said. “I’m going to have to question her.”
“I don’t think you’re going to learn anything useful,” I said.
“Maybe Amanda knew something and Miranda turned her to stone to keep her quiet,” Sheriff Astrid proposed.
I mulled it over. It was possible Amanda was targeted because she knew something, but I highly doubted Miranda was the one responsible.
“So we’ll have two Gorgons imprisoned in a cell and one imprisoned in stone?” I asked. “That wipes out their entire population in town.”
Sheriff Astrid walked around the statue, examining it. “It’s not my job to preser
ve the species. It’s my job to preserve the peace.”
“I know, Astrid. I understand you’re doing your job, but come on. This can’t be Miranda. The sisters are very close and history proves that they’ve never used their powers here, not even during the whole period Spellbound was cursed.”
“Maybe that’s why they’re using their powers now,” the sheriff replied. “Because they finally can.”
I looked at Amanda’s face—the emotional expression she wore. “She was busy working. Someone took her by surprise.” I remembered the debris on the table and floor. “You should take a look at the destruction in the workshop.”
“We don’t know whether the objects were smashed before or after Amanda was turned to stone,” the sheriff said. “For all we know, Amanda destroyed them herself.”
“No way,” I said. “She’s an artist by nature. She worked too hard on them to break them herself.” I thought of Miranda on Curse Cliff, painstakingly photographing her clients. “For that matter, Miranda is an artist too. I can’t see her destroying anyone’s work. She has too much respect for the creative process.”
“I have to talk to her, at the very least,” Sheriff Astrid said. “Maybe she’ll luck out and have an alibi.”
“What about the competition roster?” I asked. “Let’s review it together.”
“It can’t be about the competition anymore,” Sheriff Astrid said. “I received word this morning that it’s been cancelled.”
Although I was disappointed, the news didn’t surprise me. If these crimes were connected to the competition, I figured the judges would want to nip it in the bud—pun intended.
“Do you want to come with me to see Miranda?” the sheriff asked.
I shook my head. “The baby and I have had enough excitement for one day. It’s time to go home.”
Chapter Nineteen
I sat at the dining room table the next morning, eating a bowl of oatmeal with banana and honey that Gareth had insisted was the ideal breakfast for an expectant mother.
“The baby needs iron and potassium,” he’d said twice during the time it took the oats to cook.
I updated him on my discovery at Amanda’s workshop while I plowed through the oatmeal with a hunger I didn’t realize I possessed.
“You need to be careful, Emma,” Gareth said. “You don’t want to end up turned to stone.”
“I don’t know anything, though,” I said.
“But you’re trying to know things,” Gareth said. “Sooner or later, that’s going to create a problem for the culprit.”
“I have a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.” I scraped the sticky honey from the bottom of the bowl and licked it from my spoon.
Gareth hovered next to me. “It isn’t just your safety to consider anymore. You have a baby to think of.”
“I’m not involved in anything dangerous,” I replied. “Besides, Althea is my friend and my assistant. I owe it to her to get her out of this mess.”
Gareth expelled a breath—or pretended to, since the dead undead can’t breathe. “Emma, you know I’m overly fond of Althea. She was my assistant for years before she was yours, but it’s not your job to find the real culprit.”
I eyed him. “Since when do you have a problem with me sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong? If I hadn’t done that when I first arrived, nobody would know how you actually died.”
Gareth rolled his eyes. “Aye, you’re quite right, but you weren’t with child then.”
Magpie appeared in the dining room and jumped onto the table to investigate the food options.
“Sorry,” I told the demonic cat. “Bowl’s empty.”
Magpie swished his tail and turned away in a huff. He settled down on the opposite end of the table and licked his paws.
“I’d like to call Fiona and have her crew clean up Amanda’s workshop, as long as Astrid says it’s okay. I’d hate for her to see it that way.” I’d have to make sure the sheriff was finished gathering evidence, of course. I wanted to be part of the solution, not the problem.
“It’s not such a tragedy really, is it?” Gareth asked. “Those lawn ornaments are tat anyway.”
“Lots of paranormals like them,” I said. And people, too, for that matter. “Who are we to judge?”
“We have taste,” Gareth said. “That puts us in a position to judge.”
“I have a crib designed in turquoise glitter that suggests otherwise.”
Gareth’s hands flew to his hips. “That crib is the height of sophistication. You won’t see another baby in Spellbound with a sleeping arrangement as impressive as that one.”
“You definitely won’t,” I agreed. “You should probably know that I’ve asked Amanda to make a statue for our garden as a present for Daniel.”
Gareth drew back in horror. “I thought you loved him.”
I smiled. “I do, that’s why I’m getting a present for him. It’s to celebrate becoming a father.”
Gareth drifted over to the window and peered into the front garden. “You’re not going to put it directly in the front of the house, are you?”
“It will probably be too tall,” I said. “I don’t want to block the light from the window.”
“Light is overrated,” Gareth said.
I laughed. When I first moved into the house after Gareth’s death, the windows were designed to block every glimmer of light from the outside world. The interior decor had reflected Gareth’s dark, brooding nature.
“We could always compensate and put a gnome in the garden,” I said. “They’re too short to obstruct any windows.”
“Doesn’t sound like any gnomes were left standing in the Great Statue Massacre.”
“No, I guess a ladybug or a frog would have to…” I stopped talking, the gears of my brain beginning to click.
“I recognize that face,” Gareth said. “What is it?”
I turned to look at him, my eyes wide. “I think I know who turned Mr. Geary and Amanda to stone.”
I wrote a note to Sheriff Astrid and attached it to Sedgwick’s leg.
I thought technology rendered me obsolete, the owl said.
“Is that hope or regret you’re trying to express?” I asked.
Sedgwick shook his encumbered leg. I haven’t decided yet.
“You should go to the sheriff’s first and drive over together,” Gareth advised.
“It’ll be fine, Gareth. Stop mothering me.”
“For once, I wish Daniel was here to talk sense into you,” Gareth said.
“Sorry, he’s at work.” I withdrew my wand and twirled it in the air. “I’m locked and loaded, Gareth. No need to worry about me.”
Gareth observed me. “You’re powerful, but you’re not invincible.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m a sorceress. My dad is some kind of badass. I’m carrying a hybrid baby with unknown power. I can handle the situation.” I didn’t want to give the culprit time to escape. He probably knew by now that Amanda had been discovered and would be planning his exit strategy. I knew that’s what I’d be doing if I were in his shoes. If I could be in any shoes. Right now, flip-flops were my only option.
I strode to the door, my flip-slops snapping along the floor, and Gareth flew in front of me to block the exit.
“I can’t let you do this.”
“And yet you can’t stop me.” I walked right through him in his apparitional state and continued to the car.
I drove Sigmund to Starlight Street. I had a feeling I’d find him at home and his jalopy in the driveway seemed to prove me right. I parked behind him and waddled to the door, banging with a closed fist.
“Hi, Mr. Templeton,” I said when Jerry opened the door. “Do you mind if I come in? I have an update on the case.”
“That’s great news.” He didn’t seem jumpy or anxious as he opened the door wider to accommodate me.
“Not really,” I said. “Did you know someone turned Amanda to stone?”
“That’s awful,” he sai
d and retreated into the kitchen. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“No, thank you.” I stood across the kitchen island from him. “You can drop the charade, Jerry. I know it was you.”
The gnome seemed momentarily startled by my statement. “What was me?”
I tapped my nails on the island top, ignoring his mock innocence. “Why did you target Al? Because of the gardening competition? He's never won. There was no reason to believe he was destined to win this year either.” And if it was about the competition, then really Adam should have been the one turned to stone.
Jerry’s innocent expression morphed into one of complete disgust. “I thought you figured it out. You really don't get it, do you?”
I splayed my hands on the counter. “I’m sorry. I really don't. You’re going to have to spell it out for me.”
Jerry adjusted the base of his gnome hat. “Do you have any idea what it's like to be a gnome in a place where paranormals love to objectify you?”
“Try being a woman,” I shot back.
“No thank you,” Jerry said. “If I were a woman in this world, I would have revolted years ago. You ladies either need to form a union or take up arms.”
“Are you seriously telling me that you’ve put lives at risk because you don’t like being displayed as garden ornaments?”
Jerry’s jaw tightened. “That's exactly right. It's humiliating. My whole life I’ve been dealing with this kind of disrespect and I’m sick and tired of it. We’re real paranormals with real feelings. Even in our gardening group, every single one of my so-called friends keeps gnomes in their gardens.”
“Xavier doesn’t,” I said. “He only has Aphrodite.”
“The vampire has taste,” he replied. “The last one Al had commissioned, he asked specifically to make it look like me because he thought it was funny.” Jerry's face was scrunched in anger.
“And I suppose Amanda is responsible for that creation,” I said.
“You bet she is,” Jerry said. “All the business I've given her over the years, you would think she would show a modicum of respect for me, but no. She turns out those gnomes without a second thought. The endless churn of disrespect.”
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