by Blythe Baker
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “But maybe you shouldn’t be going around telling anyone that I’m some kind of novice spell weaver.”
“Below novice,” Bliss said with a wink. “And don’t worry. A lot of people show potential but never actually become spell weavers. No one will ask any questions or anything.”
“Alright,” I said. “Well, you better get going.”
“Right,” Bliss said. She gave me a small salute. “See you later. This is going to be oh so fun…”
She rolled her eyes as she passed through the door.
When she stepped through, the doorway began to shrink in size until it disappeared all together.
I unzipped the bag and let Athena out.
So…a son with a grudge, Athena said, the end of her tail twitching. It sounds like we might have a new lead.
10
The next morning, I called the bank in town to speak with Dr. Valerio. If anyone could confirm a rumor for me, it would be him for sure.
“Miss Marianne, how wonderful to hear from you,” Dr. Valerio said brightly on the other end. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been alright,” I said. “How are you?”
Hearing Dr. Valerio’s voice suddenly made me want to talk to him instead of asking him any questions about Ruth. All I wanted to do was have a pleasant conversation.
I guessed it wasn’t too late to change my mind. I could have just been calling to chat, right? That wouldn’t have been totally weird…especially since I really liked talking with him…
“Oh, things have been busy here around the bank, as I’m sure you could expect, given the amount of visitors we’ve had in Faerywood Falls the last few weeks,” he said. “The year is winding down, and everyone is starting to prepare for the holiday season, of course.”
“Yes, I guess it is getting to be that time of year…” I said.
I heard his chuckle on the other end. “I don’t imagine you called to make small talk, did you?”
“No, but I wish I did,” I said honestly. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m sure you have a lot of work to do.”
“Nonsense,” Dr. Valerio said. “I always have time to talk with you.”
My cheeks burned. “Well…I guess I had a question. It’s…going to seem like a strange one, though.”
“Alright,” he said with some new reservation. “What is it?”
“It’s about…Ruth Cunningham. And her son,” I said. “I heard recently that she and her son had a falling out some time ago, and that she cut off financial ties with him. I guess…would you be able to confirm this for me?”
Dr. Valerio sighed on the other end of the line. “Marianne…are you investigating her murder?” he asked.
His blunt question caught me off guard.
“I would have assumed that the last time you investigated a murder and were nearly killed because of it would have been enough to deter you from doing it again,” he said.
“I know,” I said. “It’s just…this time it’s kind of personal.”
“How so?” Dr. Valerio asked.
I debated for a second. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him everything that happened.
But I could trust Lucan, couldn’t I? He’d come to my rescue more than once, and he may have gotten upset with me recently for interfering with some things with his pack, but he was capable of apologizing and setting things right again.
And I didn’t think that he, unlike Cain, was capable of murder.
“I’m sorry, Lucan, but I can’t tell you the specifics…” I said. “Just know that I only want to find out the truth for other people who will be impacted.”
Dr. Valerio sighed on the other end of the line. “Well…I trust you, Marianne, but I must be honest. I am not at liberty to share this sort of information with you. Would you like me to share information with some random person about your financial transactions?”
“N – No,” I said.
“It’s a confidentiality thing,” Dr. Valerio explained. “And as I’ve said before…you really must be careful, Marianne, about trying to dig up people’s pasts. I understand that you feel an obligation to see justice preserved, but…I’m worried about you.”
“Worried about me?” I asked, somewhat breathless.
“Of course…” he said. “And the very last thing I want to see is you in danger. And I’m afraid that if you keep trying to play the hero, someone is going to step up as the villain and really hurt you…”
I swallowed hard.
“I just want you to be careful about looking into other people’s business…especially people who may be capable of murder.”
I nearly swallowed my tongue. “You don’t mean Ruth’s son could – ”
“I’m sorry, Marianne, I need to go,” he said. “My nine o’clock just showed up. I’ll talk to you soon, alright?”
“Y – yeah,” I said. “Goodbye.”
I spent the next two days completely lost in my own thoughts. Ruth’s death seemed to be the talk of Faerywood Falls, and her funeral was publicly announced to the town, with an invitation for everyone to come out and show their support for the person who had been such a crucial member of society. I heard people talking about it in the antique shop as they browsed the shelves, whispering under their breath. I heard people at the grocery store mention Ruth’s name, commenting about how the fall festival just wouldn’t be the same without her being involved in it.
I was getting sick of hearing her name by the morning of the funeral. Not because I was annoyed with everyone for talking about her, but because every time I heard her name, I found myself wracked with guilt. All I could see was her body, slumped against her probably custom made kitchen cabinets, her head lolling, her skin cold to the touch. For a woman as highly respected as she was, it was a terrible way to die.
Sheriff Garland called me two days after the death to let me know that Ruth had been bludgeoned with something heavy. He had no idea what that object might have been, because the police didn’t find anything in her house.
“And we didn’t see any sign of the box you mentioned…” he said to me. “Whoever attacked Ruth must have taken that, too.”
I wasn’t surprised.
I stood at the mirror in my bathroom on the morning of Ruth’s funeral, trying to pick out a pair of earrings to wear.
“Pearls are too nice…but these rubies don’t seem very sensitive, either,” I said.
You’re going to be fine, Athena said. No one aside from the sheriff and your family knows that you were at her house the night she died. And they all know you’re innocent.
I sighed, laying my hands on either side of the sink. “That’s not what I’m worried about…”
Then what is it? Athena asked, hopping up onto the toilet seat and staring at me.
“I’m worried about running into Ruth’s son…” I said.
Weren’t you just saying last night how you wanted to meet him so you could question him about his mother’s death? Athena asked.
“Well, yes, but I’m having flashbacks of Olivia Foster’s funeral, where I met Olivia’s husband,” I said, shivering. “I really don’t want to anger this guy, too, and have him chase after me like Olivia’s husband did. And if Ruth and her son had a falling out about money, then the chances of him being angry about the whole thing are a lot higher.”
I suppose…Athena said, sitting on her hind legs and wrapping her tail around her paws. I wish I could go with you. I could always wait in the car.
“You’d be uncomfortable,” I said. “It’s gonna be better if you just stay here and relax at home…like I wish I could.”
You’ll be fine. Bliss is coming, right?
“No, she’s not,” I said heavily. “She went to the spell weaver’s honoring the other night, and they’re swamped at the Lodge…”
So you’re going by yourself?
I sighed again. “Well…no, not exactly…I asked someone to meet me there…”
; Athena tilted her head. Who?
I chewed on the inside of my lip. “Dr. Valerio.”
Athena’s ears perked up. You asked him?
“Sort of,” I said. “He called me back the other day after I called him about Ruth and her son. He apologized for cutting off our call so abruptly, and we got to talking about Ruth’s funeral. He asked if I was going, and when I said I was, he asked if I was going with my family. I had the same conversation I just had with you, and then…well, he asked if I wanted him to meet me there. And…I said yes.”
Athena’s eyes flashed. Well, between Lucan and Cain, I think I prefer Lucan, especially if Cain was actually the one who killed Ruth…
“I have no proof of that,” I said. “But…you’re right. Maybe I should try to stop thinking about Cain like that. Spending a day with Lucan might be just what I need.”
Let’s try to spend time with him outside of a funeral, alright?
“Yes,” I said. “No argument there.”
I waved goodbye to Athena who hopped up into the window as I climbed into my SUV. The clouds overhead were dark and thick, and the air was heavy with the scent of ozone. Rain was imminent, and I was glad I remembered my umbrella.
The church parking lot was full when I arrived. I was cutting it close to the start of the funeral, the rain having started when I was halfway there. It fell in fat drops, splattering the windshield in small puddles, so fast that my wipers couldn’t keep up. I drove clutching my steering wheel, my knuckles turning white, hoping that my tires wouldn’t spin out in any of the sheets of water lying on the blacktop.
I pulled open my umbrella, which the wind tried to fight against, and hurried toward the overhang where the front doors of the church were tucked away.
A gentleman with a fluffy grey beard opened the door for me, nodding to me as I hurried inside. I exhaled sharply as I shook off the umbrella, trying to wrestle it back in on itself.
I wiped some of the loose droplets from my face, hoping that my makeup hadn’t smeared too badly, frustrated that I’d spent time trying to keep the frizzyness of my hair in order.
A woman in a long, black dress walked up to me, a forlorn look on her face.
“Good afternoon,” the woman said, her dark hair tied behind her head in a tight French twist. “The service is right through those double doors,” and she handed me an order of service.
Ruth’s beautiful smile shined up at me from a picture on the front of the pamphlet. Her blonde hair looked longer than it had when we’d met, and she looked so, so happy.
My heart clenched. It just didn’t seem fair.
“Did you know Ruth well?” the woman with dark hair asked me, her red lips turned down in a frown.
I shook my head. “No…I just had the pleasure of making her acquaintance recently.”
“She was quite remarkable, wasn’t she?” the woman asked, shaking her head. “The sweetest, most thoughtful woman I knew. And her singing voice…oh, we’ll miss her singing for our benefit dinners and other charity events…”
Just from her words, I realized the woman was one of the non-Gifted who knew her.
“Her voice was lovely,” I said.
The sound of footsteps made me turn, and my heart jumped into my throat.
It was Lucan.
He wore a dark suit, a black silk tie, and polished black shoes. His copper hair had recently been trimmed back close to his scalp on the sides, while there was still wildness in the length on the top of his head, something still wolfish about it. His beard, also copper, was clean and short, just grazing the edge of his jaw line. His topaz eyes were fixed on me.
My cheeks burned as I stared up at him like a gawking fan.
“Dr. Valerio,” the woman in the black dress said in a breathless tone, clutching the front of her dress. Her eyes widened as she gazed up at him. “What an honor it is to see you.”
Lucan nodded to the woman and gave her a brief smile. “Mrs. Rower. Pleasure is mine.”
She let out a breath, and passed him one of the order of services. “Ruth would have been pleased to know you made time in your busy life to come and give her your respect.”
Lucan inclined his head again. “It was my honor to do so. Ruth was an old friend, and it troubled me to hear that she’d passed so soon…”
Mrs. Rower’s eyes lit up as she stared at him. It was like he was a treat, something forbidden.
Lucan, however, had quickly shifted his gaze to me. “Did you want to go find our seats, Marianne?”
“Yeah…” I said, staring up at him.
His face split into a smile, and he laid a gentle hand on the small of my back as we walked away from Mrs. Rower.
I didn’t miss her haughty huff of dislike as we turned the corner.
“Sorry about that…” Lucan said in a low voice. “Mrs. Rower is…well, she’s a bit of a character.”
“Seems like she has a little crush,” I said, very aware of the fact that his hand had so casually touched my back the way it had, almost like he’d done it hundreds of times before.
He chuckled softly. “Yeah…well, I hope you know that I don’t return her feelings. Obviously. She’s married. And…she’s not Gifted, and she’s not – ”
“The nicest of people?” I asked, smirking up at him.
His crooked smile widened. “Something like that.”
He reached out and pulled open the door into the sanctuary of the church.
A few people turned at the sound of the door.
“Here, why don’t we just slip in the back here?” Lucan whispered to me, laying his hand on my shoulder to lean down closer to me.
“Sure,” I whispered, and we slid into the back row.
A piano played softly up at the front of the room, a mournful sort of tune that was backdropped by the murmur of the guests talking with one another, the low hum of their voices echoing around the large sanctuary.
The casket was at the front of the rows of pews, the top closed. A frame with Ruth’s picture in it rested on top of it, flanked on either side by bright white lilies.
“To be honest, I’m not surprised there are this many people here,” Lucan said to me. “I imagine it will be standing room only soon.”
He sat so close to me that I could feel the heat of him, and I caught the faintest hint of what must have been his cologne. It was earthy, with some spearmint and something woodsy, like smoke in the wintertime.
He leaned even closer to me, his hands absently folding the order of service in half. “How are you doing today?” he asked. “You had quite the nervous look on your face when I saw you.”
“Funerals always make me sort of antsy,” I said. “I just…don’t like thinking about death lately.”
“I understand that,” Lucan said gently. “Though I’m curious…if you didn’t know Ruth all that well, then why did you come to her funeral?”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. “I – ”
The piano music faded away, and a man stepped up to the wooden pulpit at the front of the room. He cleared his throat. “Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” came the response from many others in the room.
“My name is Pastor Paul, and today we are gathered here to celebrate the life that Ruth Cunningham lived,” he said.
My skin crawled. It was wrong to hoodwink people like Ruth had, but to somehow convince the pastor that she was a good person? That was a whole different level of wrong…
“…and grace that is given to us in our time of need. If you will all bow your heads with me as we pray for our service today…”
I bowed my head with the others around, but a person who refused to do so at the front of the room caught my eye.
He was a little older than Lucan was, at least he looked like it from the back. He sat right in the front pew, staring at the casket, frozen as if he were a statue.
I closed my eyes as the pastor continued his prayer. Was that the fiancée? Or her son?
I sat as still as I
could, trying hard to focus on the pastor’s words. He spoke about forgiveness and the trials of this world, promising that there was a way out of the suffering. He spoke about Ruth’s qualities, including her talent as a singer. I wondered if he knew that her singing was more than what it seemed.
The funeral ended after person after person got up and gave personal testimonies about Ruth and their relationship with her. Friends, co-workers. Even Patricia, the woman who had taken over her position at city hall, got up and talked about how much she admired Ruth.
I tried hard not to let my disbelief show on my face, but it wasn’t all that successful.
“You look like you swallowed a lemon,” Lucan said, leaning over to me. “What’s the matter?”
I hesitated, waiting until the next person got up to speak; this time, a man who’d served her breakfast at the diner every Friday morning for twenty years.
“I just don’t like it when everyone says things that are so disingenuous,” I whispered. “A week ago, these people could have very well just rolled their eyes at the mention of her name. And they did. I saw them do it. But now, they’re acting like she was a saint or something…” I shook my head. “It’s just all so fake, and I think it’s wrong.”
“I agree, believe it or not,” Lucan murmured.
I looked up at him. “Really?”
He nodded, his eyes on the waiter who was still talking, something about how Ruth liked her maple syrup just so for her pancakes.
“Funerals make people awfully sentimental. Everyone thinks there is something wrong about mentioning people’s bad qualities when they’re dead. Maybe they’re worried they’ll come back and haunt them or something, I don’t know. But you are correct; just because a person dies, it doesn’t mean that all the negative things they’d done are magically forgotten somehow.”
The pastor tried to kindly thank the waiter, but the waiter wasn’t ready to give up the microphone.
“I guess people would rather have the ones they love still with them as opposed to not, good and bad qualities,” Lucan said.
“I guess you’re right…” I said.
I watched the man at the front dab at his eyes with a tissue.