The Girl in Gold: A Vox Swift Mystery (Vox Swift Mysteries Book 2)

by Beth Lyons

  That spoke to a crime of passion. The killer strangles Helena, realizes what he’s done, panics, and dumps her body elsewhere. He wouldn’t go far with the body. He couldn’t go far with the body, not even at 10 o’clock in a nice neighborhood like Hightower.

  Of course a spellcaster would have a few more options under his belt, right? Invisibility maybe or darkness to hide his deeds.

  I slipped into the library and shut the secret door behind me. Once more I took in the sight of shelves upon shelves of books. Someone this rich could afford to buy a coat of invisibility. Wouldn’t need to be a spellcaster.

  So we were looking for either a rich person or a spellcaster, or both. Or a servant who’d have access to magic coats and big houses. Perfect Vox, that really narrows it down.

  But you can’t assume that Hawktite’s telling the truth. Remember just a few hours ago you were complaining to Underwood that everyone lies. The sooner you find the magic library, the sooner you can be casting your own truth spell.

  “Until then,” I muttered as I pulled out my notebook, “we do it the old fashioned way.”

  I’d drive myself bonkers trying to guess who’d killed Helena. Better to focus on why someone would want her dead. At the top of a fresh sheet I wrote “Motives” and then below it “Love”, “Money”, “Jealousy”, “Rejection”. Below that I wrote the word “Accident” and circled it. Coulda been just bad luck.

  I returned to the list. Love, jealousy, and rejection were really all the same. Money: anybody could kill for money. The voice of the dwarf paladin came back to me. “She was strangled,” he’d said. He’d pointed at Helena’s neck and said—

  “Vox! Here you are.” Jesskah’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “I’m sorry to leave you. Mother—”

  “You examined Helena’s body, right? Could you strangle someone accidentally?”

  “You could begin to strangle someone accidentally. I don’t think you could finish it accidentally. They’d let you know that they couldn’t breathe.”

  “True. So the killer meant to kill Helena. And maybe she fought back.” I circled behind Jesskah. “If he came on her from behind—”

  Jesskah whirled around to face me. “I don’t want to talk about Helena Grimwell. Is that alright?”

  I looked into her deep green eyes and nodded. We can talk about anything you’d like, Jess.

  “Is it too late to get dinner?” Her question surprised me, and it took my mouth a few seconds to start working. “No!” I said. “I haven’t eaten. I don’t remember the last time I ate. Breakfast, maybe?”

  She smiled. “Let me get my coat.”

  I stood in the hall with my hands in my pockets. Jesskah Morningstar was really going to have dinner with me. But maybe it’s professional, not personal. Maybe she wants to discuss the case.

  No, she said she didn’t want to talk about Helena Grimwell. Maybe she likes me. I brushed my hair back from my face.

  Jesskah came down the stairs, and I was reminded of Sunday morning when I saw her race toward the library door and the dead girl behind it.

  “I don’t know what to call you. Jess? Jesskah? Paladin?”

  She laughed at my last suggestion and said, “Jesskah. I prefer Jesskah.”

  “Great.” I nodded. “It’s just – I’ve heard people call you—”

  “I like Jesskah.”

  As we headed down Clearwater she said, “I am surprised that you haven’t asked about Professor Hawktite. Aren’t detectives supposed to be curious to a fault?”

  “We are. I overheard the whole thing – most of it anyway.”

  “Bards have a listening spell?” She turned to look at me.

  “Dunno. Maybe. I guessed about the secret door and used it to listen in.”

  “Secret door? In my house?” I heard a hint of iciness in Jesskah’s voice.

  “Probably a connecting door that got forgotten over the years.” I stopped. “I can show you where it is right now. Nothing sinister about it.”

  “You act like everything is simple,” she said. “But it’s not. It never is.” She sighed. “Never mind the door. You can show me later. Where should we eat?”

  I couldn’t see Jesskah eating dwarven food. Too spicy, too messy. She probably likes quaint little cafes with mismatched plates and cloth napkins, but those places cater to the lunch crowd. Three Kingdoms has good food, and Jesskah’s probably been there, but it’s across town. As is Sunday’s Spoon, the place I’d originally suggested. I settled for shrugging and saying, “Eh, what are you in the mood for?”

  “Have you been to Moonwinkle’s?” She shot a quick glance at me.

  Moonwinkle’s is an Elven-themed cafe. From the shape of the door to the color on the walls, from the names on the menu right down to the dulcimer music playing most of the day and night.

  It had opened recently, and its hushed-voice waiters, the earth-toned wall hangings, and the smell of starspice flowers represent some of what I left behind in the Olden. But only some. The restaurant showcased a piece of a part of Elven life. Sure, sometimes elves are tranquil, languid, reverent. But not when they’re out with friends. Even the most devout elves in the Olden sometimes laugh out loud.

  Moonwinkle’s is an example of the best and worst of Thornbury. On the one side, a place serving traditional Elgi food is thriving in a non-Elgi city. On the other, the cafe shows its patrons what they expect to see in an “elfish” cafe. If all you ever knew of Elven culture was Moonwinkle’s, you’d think that elves are thoughtful, serious, and humorless all the time.

  And what about elves who grow up in Thornbury? If we’re not careful, that’s all they’ll know, too.

  Which is exactly what Hawktite says in his book, Vox. He blames greed and growth; he blames big businesses. He blames people like Miles Edjrest. And maybe people like Helena Grimwell, who was poised to join that inner circle. Damn. Had I just stumbled on a motive for Hawktite to kill Helena?

  Seems unlikely, but why did Hawktite write the book anyway? What did he think would happen when people read it? Maybe he wanted a revolution, and maybe he wanted to speed it along. Maybe he—

  “Vox? Why are you being quiet? Do you not want to go to the restaurant? It was just a suggestion.”

  I smiled at Jesskah. “It’s past time I went to Moonwinkle’s.”

  A tall elf with straight brown hair led us to a table in the corner. After handing us the menus he bowed and murmured, “Elen sila lumenn omentilmo.”

  “Ah, thanks,” I nodded and focused on the parchment menu.

  “I don’t speak Eltharin. What did he say?”

  “Just a standard Elgi greeting. He said, ‘A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting.’ And,” I leaned forward, “his accent is terrible. Probably a half.” I glanced toward the front of the restaurant. “Yeah. He’s too tall. Half human for sure.” I brought my focus back to the human sitting across from me. “Not that I have anything against humans.”

  “Hmmm.” Jesskah stared at her menu.

  “Really. It’s his horrible accent, and— What looks good?” I picked up my menu.

  “I’m glad it’s in Common. For a moment I thought it was all Elvish. There’s a venison dish that sounds good. Served with field greens and berries. What kind of berries do you think?”

  I didn’t answer right away. Venison? Unless the cook hunted a secret herd of deer in Thornbury there shouldn’t be deer meat on the menu. Before I could share my thoughts with Jesskah, the waiter returned. In Eltharin I asked about the meat.

  He shook his head and said, “Amin hiraetha, mani?”

  In Common I said, “The meat – where did you get it?”

  “Oh! The meat, right. Sorry, with your accent I wasn’t sure….” Seeing my expression he launched into what sounded like a memorized description. “Our grass-fed herd lives outside of Parcho, about 50 miles south of Thornbury. The deer are lovingly cared for and when they are old enough to be harvested—”

  “Thank you.” I held up my hand. “We
need a few more minutes.”

  “Vox, you’re upset. What is it?”

  “This menu, this place. If you want to see true Elgi culture I’ll take you to the Olden. And you’ll see that elves don’t butcher farmed animals. We hunt and if we’re lucky enough to— And that’s not true either. Ever since I started studying magic, I just can’t stomach meat.”

  I shook my head trying to think of how to explain. “Magic feels like life, pure life force pulsing through me, and I can’t begrudge anyone access to that.”

  “A lot of healers say that.” Jesskah nodded her head. “I guess I’m sorry I suggested this place.” She started to rise. “I thought that you’d want to—”

  “Sit. We’re here; it’s late. Who else is going to be open? Besides,” I waved the menu, “they have several meatless dishes. The wilted greens pilaf sounds good.”

  Jesskah laughed. “That sounds like the opposite of good.” She reached over and touched my hand. “Order for me. Whatever you think I’ll like. I’ll be right back.”

  I motioned for the waiter as Jesskah moved to the back of the restaurant. “We’ll have a half carafe of Uvanti, a large salad, the pine nut pilaf, and bread, no honey.”

  “The honey is freshly—”

  I handed him the menus. “No honey.”

  Uvanti is a crisp white wine that should have time to breathe, so I poured us each a small glass and waited for Jesskah to return from the bathroom.

  She touched my hand, so that means she likes me, right? Otherwise would she be here, now? Maybe she’s not sure herself – she was engaged to Farley, after all. But she’s secretive, hard to read. But she certainly wouldn’t be the only person who feels the need to hide her sexuality.

  As Jesskah slid back into her chair I said, “You were engaged to Farley Edjrest. And you broke it off.”

  Jesskah took a sip of wine before responding. “Uvanti. Nice. And yes, I was. And yes, I broke it off.”

  “That was too personal. I’m sorry. The case – all this information is swirling around and—”

  “I’ll make us even. You made people think you were male. Why?”

  I picked up the wine carafe. “We’ll need more of this.”

  Jesskah rested her chin in one hand. “Start now, and we’ll see how far we get with what’s in our glasses.”

  I told her the truth, but I gave her the short version, told her about loving Neryssa and how I left home when she married my cousin.

  “And the suits and ties? That was just…?” Jesskah twirled her hand in the air.

  Our food arrived, and I was saved from trying to explain my half-baked idea of passing as a male so that Neryssa could come and live with me and no one would know we were queer.

  “That,” I said, “was youthful folly.” I refilled our glasses and handed the carafe to the waiter. “More wine, please.”

  “I’ve had a few follies myself, Vox.” She smiled and looked down quickly. “But that’s for another time.”

  I raised my glass and toasted, “To another time.”

  After a few bites of food Jesskah said, “What did you think of Professor Hawktite, then?”

  “He seemed sincere, but then why would someone dump a dead body in his house? There’s more here than he’s letting on. I heard paladins can tell when someone is lying.”

  “Not exactly. There is an interrogation method called zone of truth that we use quite a bit. People within it have to tell the truth.”

  “But they could still lie by omission.”

  “I guess that’s true, but I feel like Hawktite’s telling the truth. Why lie about it now? He didn’t have to say anything ever, but he did.” She took a sip of wine. “And, with this revelation, I think you’ve fulfilled what Mother wanted you to do.”

  This was the nicest firing I’d ever had. “So, you don’t need us anymore?” I shrugged. “You’re right, I guess. I’ll get a summation written….” Patting my pockets for my notebook I went on absently, “So your mother can read about how Hawktite pads downstairs at 10 o’clock on a Saturday night to find Helena Grim—”

  All motion ceased as I realized what I’d just said. “That can’t be right. But that’s what he said, isn’t it? He found her before 11 o’clock.”

  Finding my notebook became all important, and I felt like I couldn’t move quickly enough.

  “Vox, what is going on?” Jesskah stared at me, and I held up a finger. “Shush-shush. Shush-shush.” My fingers fanned through the notebook pages. One ripped in my haste. “Here. Helena Grimwell was on stage at the Lamplighter Saturday until midnight. She couldn’t be dead in Hawktite’s foyer at 10:30.”

  “Why would he lie about it though? Why come over just to lie to my face?”

  I shoveled a forkful of pilaf into my mouth. “Eat up. We’re going to go ask him.”

  “It’s after ten, Vox. We can’t just barge in and—”

  “You’re the police; you can do anything you want.”

  “What do you plan to do?” Jesskah was decidedly not eating quickly. In fact, she laid down her fork and crossed her arms.

  The waiter placed a new carafe between us. Neither one of us acknowledged it.

  I set my fork aside. “Zap him with your zone of truth and—”

  “Is that what bards do? They zap out spells? For your information, Vox Swift, paladins do not. We plan, prepare, mediate. If – if – I help you, it will be tomorrow.” She held her hand in front of her as though fending me off. “It cannot be tonight.”

  “This is where detectives differ from paladins, Paladin Morningstar.” I grabbed the bread and dropped two silver worts on the table. As an afterthought I snatched the full wine carafe. “We improvise.”

  Chapter 19 Zone of Truth

  Amazingly Jesskah followed me out of the restaurant. We walked in silence as my mind raced. It had been a lovely little speech, and grabbing the wine was a nice touch, but what, I asked myself, is the plan? Are we really going to knock on Hawktite’s door and demand the truth?

  I needed a moment to think, so I pulled Jesskah down on a bench. “Can you really not cast zone of truth right now?” I passed her the carafe.

  “I cannot.” She held the carafe in her lap, one hand under it and the other on the neck.

  Shifting to face her I said, “I don’t understand. If the magic is inside you—” I stopped short. The moonlight made Jesskah’s skin shine. I’m sitting on a bench on a quiet Thornbury night with a beautiful woman, no need to drive her away with talk of magical theory. “Drink up,” I pantomimed taking a drink. “I don’t particularly care for chilled Uvanti.”

  “Who are you? It’s late; it’s cold. You just stole this wine, and I’m calmly sitting here with you like this is normal.” She handed back the carafe. “Is this normal for you?”

  I said, “I paid for this wine” and took a careful sip from the wide-mouthed container. “And stole the carafe. Technically.” Handing it back I said, “Your turn.” Then I said, “If you can’t really cast zone of truth right now, we’ll just have to fake it.”

  Jesskah had been drinking, and she choked at my words. “Lie about casting a truth spell?”

  “You can just….” I moved my hands in a circular fashion. “Play act.”

  Jesskah didn’t answer, and I stared at her profile, taking in her beauty. I couldn’t help but murmur, “Vanimle sila tiri.” Your beauty shines bright. It’s the first line of an ancient poem, and it bubbled to the surface of my mind and left my mouth without thought.

  “Is that a spell? I can’t think of any other explanation for why I’d be sitting on a cold, dark bench drinking wine from a stolen carafe.” She smiled. “You must have enchanted me.”

  Is she flirting with me? “Detective work leads you to unlikely places sometimes.” I smiled back, hoping that sounded as good as I thought it had. “Getting to know you— Well, I mean, now that your case is done maybe—”

  “What about Fara Fram?”

  That stopped me cold. “What about her?”<
br />
  “I still need your help. I told you I want to be a police detective. Finn says that Boleian’s helped him out on cases before.” She passed the wine to me. “Say you’ll look over the case file with me.”

  That wasn’t the proposition I was hoping for, but spend more time with Jesskah Morningstar? Count me in. I took a swig of wine. “You help me tonight with Hawktite, and I’ll be at your desk at 8am tomorrow to help with Fara.”

  “No. I’m not going to lie to him! You be at my desk at 8am, and we’ll really cast zone of truth on the Professor.”

  “Much better to do it tonight. He’s tired; he’s already primed to talk. We’ll surprise him – he won’t be able to formulate more lies.”

  “You’ve lied quite enough for everyone.” Jesskah stood up. “If you are serious about helping, be at Central at 8 tomorrow.” With that she started walking away.

  “Jesskah! Wait.” I grabbed her arm to stop her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just – this case, it’s all so jumbled. Nothing makes sense.” Our eyes locked. I had to make her understand. Justice is more important than truth. Of all people a paladin should know that. “We’re close,” I said. “The answer is right there; I can feel it. Can you blame me for wanting to seize a chance?”

  “No.” She kissed me lightly on the lips and walked away. Over her shoulder she called, “8 o’clock!”

  ###

  Cousin Fenril took my morning messenger shift after I promised to share all the gory murder details with him once the case was done. So at 7:30 Thursday morning I sat in Central’s lobby waiting for Jesskah. New shirt, washed hair, hot tea for two.

  I should have gotten pastries. That would have been a nice touch. Everyone likes pastries. I faked a yawn to hide my grin. Jesskah likes me! I could still feel last night’s kiss. A simple peck, but it still counted as a kiss. Maybe we could make plans for a real date. I knew better than to ask her out at work. Maybe I could swing by her place after work, or she could come by mine.

  Slow down, I told myself. Finn’s right – I can be a chump when it comes to women. Who knows what she meant by that kiss? Take her lead this morning. If she’s all business, I’ll be the same.