I groaned. “I still have a week.”
Cassie grinned. She found the entire predicament too amusing. “You think you’re getting something sparkly under the tree this year?” she asked, wiggling her ring-finger in my direction.
I rolled my eyes. “No, Cass. I don’t.”
She frowned at me and dropped her hand to the counter with an unceremonious plop. “Why not?”
I quirked my lips to one side. “Are you expecting something sparkly under the tree this year?”
Her smile faltered. “No.”
“Oh? And why not?” I asked, mimicking her sing-song tone.
Cassie sighed and gave me an irritated look. “You wreck all my fun.”
“Sorry, doll. But, remember, these questions and teasing can always be turned right around.” I winked at her, thanked her for the coffee, and headed for the front door. “I’ll call you later about girl’s night. Maybe Evangeline would want to tag along.”
“You could invite Lacey, too,” she said.
I smirked down at my coffee. “Oh, yeah, she’d love that.”
“Let me know. Enjoy your free day!”
“Thanks, Cassie. I’ll call you later.” I waved at Cassie and headed back out into the cold. The warmth from the cup of coffee in my hands seeped through my thin gloves and provided a tiny bit of comfort as I paused outside, mentally debating where to go. Curiosity called to me and led me off the path back to the manor, taking me across the street and down a few blocks to the historic building where Nick rented an office space. His office was at the end of the hall and as I neared, I saw his light was on, shining through the frosted glass window. “Workaholic,” I said, shaking my head. “At least he’s predictable.”
I tapped lightly on the door as I opened it to peek inside. Nick looked up from his place behind his large desk. He looked like he hadn’t slept since getting the news about the murder. Deep lines were etched around his eyes and the startling blue color had been replaced by a lackluster grey.
“Hey,” I said, venturing further into the office. The door slid closed behind me and latched with a soft click. I took one of the navy blue chairs opposite him and crossed my ankles. “I’m just gonna say it: you look like something the cat dragged in. Not that I’m an expert. Boots is far too lazy for such excursions.”
I hoped for a smile but settled for a slight twitch of his lips. “I had a meeting with Georgia this morning.”
I dropped my eyes to my feet. “Oh.”
Nick sighed heavily. “Yeah.”
I met his exhausted eyes. “I’m sorry, Nick. That’s gotta be the worst part of this job.”
He gave a slight nod. “Chief Lincoln had already broken the news to her, but obviously she was just as raw when I arrived a couple of hours later.”
“So, she knows that Paul was … not alone … that night?”
“I showed her the pictures. I didn’t want to but she insisted.” Nick steepled his fingers together and braced his elbows on the edge of the desk. “She doesn’t know who the woman is. She said she’s never seen her before and in all her spying on Paul, she’d never come across any proof of a stable relationship. She just figured he was picking up random women in bars.”
“So the woman could be someone he just met?”
Nick nodded. “It’s possible. The hotel doesn’t have her name on file. Paul didn’t even have a reservation. It seems like it was a last minute decision. As far as I can tell, he and Georgia got into an argument, he left to go get a drink, and when he didn’t come home, Georgia logged into the app and saw his phone registering at the hotel.”
“Makes sense. Chief Lincoln came to the manor last night to ask me some questions. He doesn’t seem to think the woman was capable of the murder.”
“Yeah,” Nick said, looking out the window to his right. It wasn’t much of a view but his eyes had a glazed look that told me he wasn’t really seeing anyway. “I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this, Holly.”
“It’s not your fault.” I shrugged and took a casual sip of my coffee. “Is there anything I can do to help? What’s going on with the case?”
“Not much right now. The police are still processing the evidence gathered at the scene and looking for the woman he was with. She’s the best shot they have at finding a witness. They’ve already questioned the staff that were on duty that night and are combing through the security footage to see who else was on that floor around the time of the murder.”
“How is Georgia taking all of this?”
“I don’t know how she was when Chief Lincoln spoke with her, but she seems more or less the same as normal when I saw her. It was almost a little unnerving, to be honest. I mean, I understand they were preparing to divorce and weren’t in love with each other anymore, but still …” Nick stared off into space again, contemplating.
“It’s so sad.” I shook my head, just as confused by it as Nick appeared to be. “Could she think of anyone who would have wanted to hurt her husband?”
Nick shook his head. “There’s always the possibility that whoever did this wasn’t there for Paul. They could have been there for his date. Maybe they attacked her and Paul stepped into the middle of it to protect her. Of course, they’ll have to process the DNA gathered at the scene to make sure all of the blood was Paul’s. If they find a second type …” he trailed off, not finishing his sentence. But the meaning was obvious.
Nick dropped his gaze back to his desk and I noticed the spread of papers over the desk. He’d shoved his keyboard and computer mouse aside to make room for pictures and sticky notes. I saw the picture of Georgia and Paul that had been stored on Nick’s phone the night we went to the hotel. I stared at the medallion around her neck and that same creeping suspicion washed over me. It was clear now that Paul wasn’t a vampire. If he had been, the SPA would have swarmed the scene before the local cops could even get a peek. A dead vampire was not a sight fit for human eyes.
But, Paul not being a vampire only made me more curious as to how his wife had gotten ahold of a necklace bearing the symbol. Was there some chic boutique making a killing off Otherworldly symbols and markings? Or, had it simply caught her eye at a flea market or vintage shop? There were a hundred ways she could have gotten ahold of it. Weren’t there? If there was a simple explanation, I wanted to find it—and soon. I needed to quiet the nagging voice in the back of my mind that was whispering that something even more deadly was going on in Beechwood Harbor.
CHAPTER TEN
I left Nick’s office feeling even more fired up than before. I had to get to the bottom of the necklace situation and there was only one person who could help me get some answers: Georgia Banks herself. But I had no idea how I’d be able to convince her to talk to me. I couldn’t take Nick with me and then go spouting off about vampires and ancient symbols. I had to go alone, but as it was, I had no way of knowing where Georgia and Paul Banks even lived.
I paused at the edge of the sidewalk and inspiration struck. Within five minutes, I had a large chocolate mocha in hand and was marching right back into Nick’s office. He looked surprised to see me but I got a real smile out of him once he saw that I came bearing gifts. “Holly! You didn’t have to do that.”
“Well, I can’t very well have Beechwood Harbor’s best PI melting down. So a caffeine fix was in order.” I handed over the coffee and when his fingers grazed the side of the cup I sloshed a little of the liquid. “Oh, bats!”
I’d used a sprinkle of magic to keep the liquid from burning Nick’s fingers but a stream dribbled down his hand. “Ahh!”
“Do you have paper towels?” I asked.
He shook his head and set the drink gingerly down on his desk. “I’ll have to get some.”
“I’m really sorry, Nick.”
He headed for the door. “Don’t worry about it. Be right back.”
He slipped out into the hall to go down to the shared bathroom space and as soon as the door closed behind him, I sprang into action. I rummaged through
the notes on his desk until I found Georgia’s name and number. Underneath was a sticky note with an address. “Gotcha!” I whispered to myself. I scribbled the address down on a fresh note from the stack at the edge of his desk and stuffed it into my pocket. I waved my hand over the notes, sending a cleansing charm over the notes to dry the sticky mocha mess.
Nick came back in and offered me a handful of paper towels. I dried off the exterior of his cup and made a show of cleaning the desk before he took his seat. “Thanks, Holly.”
“No problem. Enjoy.” I started back to the door, eager to get going.
“Holly?”
I froze in place, my hand just reaching for the door knob. “Yes?”
“Have you seen my—” He stopped and lifted up a pen. “Nevermind, here it is.”
I heaved a sigh of relief, wiggled my fingers in his direction, and scurried from his office.
Once outside, I chucked my own empty coffee cup and hurried back to the manor. As I walked, I plugged the address into the GPS on my phone and started scanning the map for familiar landmarks nearby. I didn’t have a car and didn’t want to pay for a cab if it could be helped. It was easier—not to mention cheaper—to use the Larkspur necklace to hop to a familiar location nearby and walk the rest of the way. Luckily, the Banks’ home was on a hillside overlooking the ocean. Adam and I had been to the little seaside restaurant that was just a few blocks away from the high end neighborhood. I could visualize the restaurant and hop.
When I arrived at the manor, I didn’t bother going inside. Instead, I headed for my greenhouse. Once safely inside, I looked up the name of the restaurant. JJ’s Seafood Shanty. I remembered the outside of the restaurant—the white clapboard exterior and the blue door. I squeeze my eyes closed tightly, trying to think of a place to appear where no one would see me. It wasn’t even noon yet, so unless they served breakfast, I wasn’t in too much danger. But still … there was no point in taking the risk, especially not with Harvey breathing down my neck.
I locked onto the memory of the side patio and the fence that encircled it and whispered, “JJ’s Seafood Shanty.”
When I opened my eyes, I was crouched down behind the fence and smiled to myself. “Perfect.”
From the restaurant, the Banks’ home was a brisk walk. The way was a steep uphill incline and I arrived at their front door winded and slightly sweating. “Great, Holly. Perfect first impression.”
I didn’t have too long to agonize over the state of my appearance because before I could ring the doorbell, the front door opened and I found myself staring at Georgia Banks. I hopped back, teetering on the edge of the stairs that led to the porch. “Oh!”
“Who are you?” Her beautiful face pinched into a severe look. “Are you some kind of reporter? You leeches don’t even have the common decency to give a grieving widow a chance to breathe!”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Mrs. Banks, please, I’m not a reporter. I swear.”
She folded her arms and I noticed that she was dressed like she was going out for a date. She wore a clingy turquoise dress under a long, black coat that was open. My eyes darted to her throat and I noted she was wearing the medallion. “If you’re not a reporter, then who are you?”
Right, a cover story. That might have been helpful to make up before blitzing myself across town to confront the woman on a paper-thin hunch.
“Are you deaf?” Georgia snapped her fingers in front of my face.
Okay, enough was enough. I planted my fists on my hips. “No, I’m not. My name is Holly Boldt and I work with Nick Rivers.” Georgia’s expression softened slightly. “I’m here to ask a few questions about Mr. Banks.”
“Nick already came by. I also gave a statement to the police chief. Landon or something.”
“Lincoln,” I corrected.
“Whatever.” She flipped a hand at me. “They know everything already. I don’t have anything new to share.”
Georgia took a step backwards, ready to retreat into her house, and I held up a hand. “Does the name Molder mean anything to you?”
Her brown eyes went wide and her hand went to the shiny medallion at her throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Then why are you wearing the Thraxis?”
“How do you—I don’t—” she stammered, her eyes sweeping back and forth as though expecting my backup to pop out of the bushes in her front yard. “Who are you?”
“Tell me where you got the necklace and I’ll answer your questions.”
She considered me for a moment and then hurried back and waved a hand, ushering me inside her sprawling home. She closed and locked the door as soon as I crossed the threshold. The foyer was open to the second floor, with a large chandelier hanging overhead; real crystal from the look of it. Georgia’s heels clicked on the marble flooring and I followed her wordlessly through the house.
The only word that really came to mind was lavish. Pricey looking art adorned the walls and the marble floors beneath my feet were polished to a soft sheen. The kitchen and eating nook amounted to the same square footage as the entire first floor of the manor. Georgia appeared accustomed—suited, even—to the large home. It was hard to tell how old she was under her heavily applied make-up, but I would have bet that she had barely five years on me. But just from the few minutes spent in her presence, it was obvious that our lives could not be more different.
“Tea?” Georgia offered, more as a social obligation.
I shook my head. “I won’t take up much of your time, Mrs. Banks.”
She gave me a nod and then licked her lips. “What I’m about to tell you can’t leave this house. Do I have your word?”
“Of course.”
Georgia considered me for a long moment and then continued, “I don’t want to seem callous about my husband’s death. But, as Nick has probably already mentioned, Paul and I were ready to part ways. It’s why I hired Nick in the first place.” She paused and dragged in a sigh. “When Paul and I met, we fell hard and fast for each other. We were engaged a year after we first met and married the year after that. We were young and stubborn. We thought we knew what we were doing …”
She stopped again and her eyes drifted across the room and out the huge windows above the kitchen sink. A large patio encircled what appeared to be an underground pool that was covered by a thick protective pad. “Things changed a few years ago. Paul was working more and more and taking extended trips out of town. Meanwhile, I was here, building a life for us both. But the life I was building wasn’t what Paul wanted. We started falling apart, unraveling from the inside out. A few months ago, I was unpacking his suitcase when he got home from yet another trip and found lipstick marks on one of his shirts. That was when I went to Nick.”
She dragged her gaze back to me. The spark was gone, leaving her eyes dull and listless. “Paul comes from money. I, on the other hand, do not. We have—had—an iron clad pre-nup. If we divorced, I’d be left with a lump sum that wouldn’t be enough to even get me through a year.”
“Unless he was cheating?”
Georgia nodded. “I wanted Nick to find proof of what I already knew was going on. Shortly after hiring Nick, I came to terms with the fact that my marriage was over, and that’s when I met Greyson.”
A shiver snaked down my spine. “Greyson Molder?”
Georgia smiled slightly. “That’s right.”
Panic swirled through my stomach. This was so much worse than I’d imagined. Greyson Molder was a notorious vampire, nearly two hundred years old, and the heir to the Molder family.
“Greyson and I met and he opened my eyes to an entirely new world,” Georgia said, her smile growing. She raised a hand to her necklace. “He gave me this necklace as a symbol of his promise.”
“To?”
“Turn me,” Georgia replied without blinking. “He sees that I’m meant for something more than just spending my life being Paul’s glorified maid.”
“So, why not j
ust leave Paul? The Molder family has more than enough money to keep you … comfortable. You didn’t need Paul’s money.”
Georgia bristled at my question but she sighed impatiently and answered me, “It’s a matter of principle. Paul can’t just go around cheating on me with stewardesses and waitresses and expect to get away with it!”
“Got it.” I pressed my lips together and resisted the urge to point out that her dalliance with Greyson Molder was likely putting her in a pot-kettle situation. “So then you want to be a vampire? To be with Greyson?”
Georgia cocked her hip. “I’ve answered enough of your questions. Tell me who you are. How do you know about the Molders?”
I blew out a puff of air. This should be interesting … “Georgia, I don’t know what Greyson has told you about the supernatural world he comes from, but I’m a witch. I used to live inside the Seattle haven but relocated here about a year ago.”
“A witch?” Georgia repeated.
“That’s right. And let me tell you something, I’ve heard about the Molder House my entire life. They’re an infamous vampire family. And not for doing charity work, Georgia.”
She folded her arms.
“They are glamorous and decadent and I can understand why you would be attracted to that world, but Georgia, you have to know what you’re getting yourself into—”
“I do! Greyson’s already answered all of my questions.”
I resisted the urge to sigh. I was preaching to a deaf choir. Nothing I said would make a difference. She’d already made up her mind. “Listen, Nick doesn’t know anything about the supernatural world. I’m sure Greyson has explained that humans can’t know about this.”
“I know,” she said, sounding a little put-out at my sharp reminder. “I’m not going to say anything. Who would believe me, even if I did?”
She had a point.
I pocketed my hands. “Good. So, it’s safe to assume that Paul didn’t know anything about this?”
Georgia shook her head and ran a finger over the etchings in the pendent. “I told him I found the necklace at a jewelry party one of my friends hosted.”
Witch Slapped: A Beechwood Harbor Magic Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Magic Mysteries Book 3) Page 7