Silenced by a Spell

by Fiona Grace

  “Police!” a male voice boomed. “Open up!”

  Eldritch looked up at Lacey. “May I?” he asked, curtly.

  She nodded. “Chester,” she said, giving a whistle instruction to her dog for him to stand down.

  He moved aside, slinking over to Lacey, his gaze fixed suspiciously on Eldritch as the elegant man stood from the bed, moved over to the door, and unlocked it with a click.

  The door came flying open with a whoosh. It was so forceful, Eldritch staggered backward and landed on his backside on the bed again. A barrage of officers came crowding into the room, shouting commands as they entered.

  “HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM! HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM! HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!”

  Her heart in her throat, Lacey’s hands immediately shot into the air. Eldritch raised his hands, too, though he did it in an altogether more nonchalant manner. Chester cowered at Lacey’s feet as the room was quickly infiltrated by black-clothed cops.

  “We’ve had reports of a hostage situation,” one of the officers announced. “A woman said she was trapped with a killer.” He looked at Lacey. “Ma’am, are you hurt?”

  Lacey immediately realized what was happening. There’d been a huge misunderstanding. She’d told the operator she’d trapped a murderer, not that she’d been trapped by one! No wonder the detectives weren’t here; the riot squad had been sent in to defuse what they thought was a kidnapping.

  She opened her mouth to explain, but was cut off by Eldritch.

  “It’s me!” he shouted. “I’m the hostage! This woman broke into my room! Threatened me! Locked me up!”

  The officer regarded him skeptically. “The operator said the call came in from a woman.”

  Lacey opened her mouth for a second attempt at explaining, but she was interrupted again, this time by Suzy, who suddenly appeared in the doorway. Her intrusion prompted a huge, shouted reaction from the officers.

  “Ma’am, step back! Step back! We are dealing with a potentially volatile hostage situation!”

  “This is my hotel,” Suzy declared, furiously. She went up onto her tiptoes, trying to see over the tall officer’s wide-set shoulders. “I demand to know what is going on.”

  Just then, her eyes found Lacey, and her mouth fell open with dismay.

  “Lacey!” she cried. “What are you doing in here? I told you to leave! You can’t go sneaking into people’s rooms!”

  “Catching Alaric’s killer!” Lacey cried, flinging her arm out toward Eldritch.

  The officer’s expression became perplexed. He looked from Lacey to Suzy. “I’m sorry, are you saying the woman here is the aggressor?”

  Suzy huffed. She looked furious. “Aggressor, no. Pain in my backside, yes.”

  The energy in the room began to shift, turning from high-octane energy to confusion.

  “But then who’s he?” the officer asked Suzy, pointing at Eldritch.

  “He’s a guest,” Suzy said. “And this is his room.”

  “So then who is she?” the officer asked, pointing next at Lacey.

  Suzy shot a daggered look at Lacey. “She is my meddling friend.”

  Guilt began to creep into Lacey. She felt her stomach start to churn. The last thing she’d wanted to do was hurt her friend, but she could see now how she’d gotten carried away with herself. Her high from catching out Eldritch began to ebb away, and she felt herself deflate.

  The officer looked back at Lacey. “Ma’am, is this true? Are you trespassing?”

  “Yes!” Eldritch yelled.

  “Now, just hold on one second!” Lacey cried. “There is no hostage situation going on here. I have proof that this man is a murderer. I called the cops, then locked the door to make sure he couldn’t flee.”

  “I’m not a murderer!” Eldritch exclaimed.

  The officer ignored his pleas and looked at Lacey. “You locked him in? Against his will? Which would make him, by definition, a hostage.”

  “Precisely!” Eldritch cried.

  “It was a citizen’s arrest!” Lacey countered. “Look, wait until Superintendent Turner gets here. He’ll understand.”

  “Superintendent Turner is here,” came a booming voice from the door.

  Everyone turned toward the six-foot-something man now standing in the doorway. He was wide enough and tall enough to take up the entire frame.

  Silence fell.

  Lacey couldn’t quite believe it, but she was actually happy to see him for once. At least he’d be able to unravel this mess.

  His boots thudded on the polished floorboards as he entered. He looked straight at Lacey, his glare burning into her.

  “You. Speak. Now,” he commanded. “Tell me what the hell I am looking at here.”

  Finally, Lacey got a chance to properly explain what was going on.

  “I realized Eldritch was the killer—”

  “—I’m NOT!” Eldritch interrupted.

  “—So I locked the door to stop him from fleeing. But my citizen’s arrest got misconstrued as a hostage situation, hence all the riot police.”

  Superintendent was still and silent for a beat, looking like he was absorbing it all. Then he nodded once.

  “I want everyone out,” he announced.

  “Sir, we have orders—” the riot officer began, but Superintendent Turner cut him off with a palm held in front of his face.

  “I said everyone out. Everyone but him.” He pointed to Eldritch. “And her.” He pointed to Lacey. Then his gaze fell to Chester. “And Fido can stay too.”

  The riot man looked extremely nonplussed by the superintendent’s rude hand gesture and tone. With his jaw set firmly, he spoke into the walkie-talkie at his shoulder in a low, indecipherable voice.

  The walkie-talkie bleeped, and a voice crackled out, “Affirmative, stand down.”

  The riot officer’s face turned beet red. He clenched his teeth and surveyed the scene.

  “Everyone out,” he announced.

  The officers noisily filed out of the room, leaving Suzy staring openmouthed at the door.

  “Please exit the room,” Superintendent Turner told her.

  “This is my B&B,” she protested.

  “Then go and do B&B things. This is police business.”

  And with that he slammed the door in her face.

  Lacey grimaced. Suzy was not going to take any of this lightly, and she felt terrible for having instigated all this upheaval. She would have to make it up to her, that much was for certain. Hopefully, once Eldritch was in jail, she’d see that the ends justified the means.

  With everyone gone, the room became eerily quiet. Superintendent Turner glanced from Lacey to Eldritch, then pointed at the man.

  “You. Speak.”

  “I’m not a killer,” Eldritch said. “Whatever evidence Lacey thinks she has on me, I can explain it.”

  Superintendent Turner looked at Lacey. “Well?”

  “He has a soured business relationship with the victim,” she began.

  “We parted ways,” Eldritch argued. “But there was nothing sour about it.”

  “He has a page from the missing grimoire.”

  “Which I ripped out before the auction!” Eldritch exclaimed.

  “He gave a false alibi for the night of the crime.”

  “Nonsense! I was here drinking whiskey with my friends. Ask the mixologist. He’ll tell you.”

  “And then there’s the sand on his boots,” Lacey added, pointing to the pair by the nightstand.

  “I went to the beach, so what?” Eldritch replied. “Doesn’t every tourist who visits this town do the same?”

  “The sand is gray,” Lacey said without hesitation. “Only the sand on the island is that color. Since the beach was a cordoned off crime scene after the murder, the only time he would’ve been able to visit it was before. Between surveillance footage of him at the Lodge, at the Halloween party, and at my auction, the only possible time he had to be on the island was during the window of Alaric’s death. It places him
at the location of the crime.”

  Eldritch faltered. Superintendent Turner’s eyebrow twitched up in a subtle expression of triumph and Lacey felt a swell of pride to realize she’d finally proven herself in front of Superintendent Turner.

  “Look,” Eldritch said. “We were business rivals, that much is true. But there was no real animosity between us. Not really. We pranked each other, that’s all. Messed around. I never had any intention of buying the grimoire, I just wanted you to think it was worth that much to screw with him. But I didn’t kill him! I knew he was going to the island on the tour, so I rowed over there after the auction. I was just going to spook him. He doesn’t really believe in witchcraft, so I wanted to make him realize the grimoire was really cursed. But when I got wind that the tour had been cancelled, I gave up, figuring he wasn’t coming to the island after all.”

  “That,” Superintendent Turner said, “is the biggest pile of trite I’ve heard in my life.” He produced his handcuffs from his pocket. “Eldritch Von Raven, aka Richard Bird, I am hereby arresting you on suspicion of murder.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  From the foyer of the Lodge, Lacey stood shoulder to shoulder with Suzy, watching as Superintendent Turner hauled a cuffed Eldritch Von Raven toward his black Merc.

  “I didn’t do anything!” the gothic man cried. “I swear!”

  Superintendent Turner guided him into the back of the car and slammed the door behind him. He went to the front of the car, gave Lacey a final parting look, nodded once, then disappeared inside behind the tinted black windows of his vehicle.

  Lacey felt a swell of triumph and pride. She’d solved the case, and the killer was caught. Everything could go back to normal. Well, once she’d made amends, that was…

  She turned to her friend beside her. “I’m really sorry about all that,” she said.

  Suzy narrowed her eyes. Her lips were pressed tightly together, forming a tight line. “Yes. Well. You do have quite the knack for causing a disruption, don’t you? But I suppose having a murderer hiding out in my B&B would’ve been the greater evil.”

  “Am I forgiven?” Lacey asked hopefully.

  Suzy’s lips twitched upward. “Yes, I suppose you are.”

  Lacey threw her arms around her friend. With Suzy’s forgiveness, she could now truly feel elated for having solved the case.

  “Just don’t do it again!” Suzy warned from the midst of Lacey’s embrace.

  Lacey let her go. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. I have no intention of playing detective ever again. Especially if it’s going to cost me my friends.”

  Suzy gave her a nod, clearly accepting her apology was genuine. “Good. Because your sleuthing will get you in serious trouble one day. And I never want to have to say I told you so.”

  “I promise,” Lacey said.

  She pulled up the hood of her coat; a light rain had started to fall. She looked over at Chester. “Come on, boy, I think we should head home and celebrate. And maybe make Aunty Suzy a cake to say sorry…”

  Suzy gave her an affectionate eye roll, and Lacey headed through the glass doors into the drizzle.

  “Oh, Lacey!” Suzy called after her, as she began to trot down the first stone steps.

  Lacey turned and looked back at her friend, lit by the bright, warm, yellow glow of her cozy B&B. “Yes?”

  Suzy grinned. “I prefer cinnamon rolls.”

  Lacey chuckled, relieved to have such understanding friends, and elated that the case that had plagued her was now done and dusted. “Cinnamon rolls. Got it.”

  And with that, she hop-skipped down the final steps, eager to get back to the others and tell them the good news.

  *

  “You should’ve seen Superintendent Turner’s face when he realized I’d cracked the case,” Lacey exclaimed, swilling the wine in her glass.

  She was sitting in the kitchen of Crag Cottage with Tom, Gina, and Finnbar, celebrating having cracked the case. They’d shared a bottle of wine between them. Either Lacey was giddy with joy, or the wine had gone straight to her head, because she felt a tad tipsy.

  “I mean, he didn’t actually say I’d done a good job,” she continued. “But his eyebrow twitched.”

  “An eyebrow twitch, eh?” Tom said, from the other side of the round kitchen table. “Congratulations.”

  Everyone chuckled.

  Gina yawned deeply. “I’m just glad it’s all over. I don’t know about you, but thinking you’ve unleashed an evil curse that killed a man is exhausting.”

  Lacey patted her friend’s hand. She was relieved Gina could put this whole curse anxiety behind her at last. Her dear friend had been through quite enough.

  “I’m actually kind of sad it’s over,” Finnbar announced. “I was really enjoying researching the grimoire.”

  Lacey laughed. Trust the PhD student to come out with such a thing.

  “Really,” Finnbar continued with earnest enthusiasm. “I found out so many fascinating things about it. Once you deep dive the topic, there’s all this stuff about the Ouvriere family who supposedly wrote it, and there’s this whole legend about how the thirteenth daughter of the thirteenth daughter is a witch, and can invoke Violet’s power by sacrificing a charlatan on La Toussaint, which is the French equivalent of All Saint’s Day, which is the original pagan holiday that Halloween is derived from.” He gasped for air.

  “Sounds like it would make a good movie,” Tom interjected, before the young man had another chance to launch into yet another monologue.

  “Funny you should say that,” Finbarr said, “because a movie was made about it in the seventies, but it was banned from being screened by some witchy organization in France that claimed it was slanderous. The film went straight to VHS, flopped, and years later became a cult hit.”

  Lacey laughed. Trust Finnbar to get so involved in the topic he’d go as far as to research the movie adaptation.

  “Ooh, is that the time?” Gina said suddenly. “I’d better head home. Madeleine checked out of Carol’s earlier today and will be heading home once she’s popped around to say goodbye.”

  “So one of the goths did check in to the Barbie pink B&B after all!” Tom said, surprised.

  Lacey smiled at Gina. “It’s nice how you two got to know one another. Despite everything that went on, it’s nice some good came of it.”

  “She’s a very sweet child,” Gina replied. “Shy. Polite. She reminds me of my boy when he was her age.”

  She smiled a faraway, sorrow-filled smile. Then she put both her palms flat on the tabletop and pushed off. “Right. Thank you for dinner, Tom. Lacey, Finn, I’ll see you two bright and early tomorrow.”

  She waved goodbye and headed out through the stable doors, with Boudica following along.

  “I should probably get home too,” Finnbar said. “I’ll need a lot of energy to take down the store’s Halloween decorations tomorrow. Gina told me that you’d only agreed to put them up on the proviso there wasn’t a scrap of evidence by November first.”

  Lacey laughed. “That’s quite right.”

  He gave Lacey his customary head-tip, then repeated the gesture for Tom’s benefit, then left.

  Lacey settled back into her chair and took a sip of the fruity Shiraz. She glanced over at Tom across the table, lit handsomely by the candlelight, and their eyes met. He smiled at her tenderly.

  “Chester must be exhausted,” he said, nodding to where the pooch was fast asleep and snoring in his basket by the door. “He didn’t even say goodbye to Boudica.”

  “The riot cops gave him quite a fright,” Lacey said. “And he was less than thrilled by me sneaking into Eldritch’s room in the first place.”

  “Him and me both,” Tom replied, with a look. “Of all the dangerous things you’ve done, locking a murderer in a room is quite high on the list.”

  Lacey glanced down into her wine glass. “I know, my love. But it was worth it in the end, wasn’t it? Alaric’s killer is in jail. And Superintendent Turner wou
ldn’t have found the smoking gun clue on his own. Only a local like myself would have been able to connect all those dots.”

  “I still don’t understand how you pieced it all together,” Tom said.

  “It was the boots,” Lacey told him. “Or at least the sand on them. You can only pick it up from the island, so it’s irrefutable evidence he was there. I saw he was wearing them on the CCTV footage at the Lodge, and there was no other way to explain how it got there. I mean Eldritch—or should I say Richard Bird—tried spinning some story about how he only went to the island to prank Alaric but Karl and I saw right through it.”

  “You and Karl?” Tom teased. “You’re not thinking of replacing Beth as his righthand woman, are you?”

  “Absolutely not!” Lacey exclaimed, chuckling. “If Alaric’s body is the last one I ever see, I’ll be happy. But it was pretty thrilling cracking the case. Perhaps in another life, I would’ve made a good detective.”

  “Well, if you are planning on swapping careers any time soon,” Tom said, standing and collecting the dishes, “just give me a heads-up.”

  “Will do,” Lacey said.

  As Tom retreated to the sink, Lacey sipped her wine, and her mind went to the Knightsbridge Auction House job offer. She’d put it on the back burner during the investigation, just like she had her search for her father. But now that the case was solved, these life matters needed to be handled.

  She stood, her mind in deep contemplation, and collected up the rest of the crockery. She carried it over to where Tom was loading the dishwasher.

  “Here, let me do that,” she told him. “You cooked.”

  “Yes, but you solved a murder. All I did was make a mushroom roulade and bake a zillion ghost-shaped gingerbread cookies.”

  She kissed him affectionately. “You’ve done quite enough for the day.”

  Tom smiled warmly. “In that case, do you mind if I retire early? I’m exhausted.”

  Lacey chuckled. “Of course not. I’ll be up soon.”

  Tom pecked her cheek, then headed upstairs.

  Lacey filled the dirty crockery into the dishwasher. She was on such a high from solving the case, she felt like she had enough energy to spring clean the house from top to bottom. She almost had enough energy to drive out to the countryside and knock on her father’s door right that second, though she suspected his long-lost daughter showing up on his doorstep in the middle of the night might not go down so well from his perspective.