“Sure, come over around eight o’clock. Bring something with you that she touched, or a picture of her. We’ll see what we can do.” With her thanks still ringing in my ears, I gathered my purchases and headed inside. The sun had already set—it was after four-thirty—and I was surprised to find a note from Aegis.
Had to go out early. Will head straight to rehearsal tonight. Don’t wait up for me. Love, ~Aegis
I stared at the paper, wondering if I should join him after Rose arrived. But I was still irked about the picture and my confrontation with Ralph had done nothing to soothe my mood. I decided to savor a long bubble bath, eat a leisurely dinner, and then help Rose. Then, if I wanted to, I’d crash their rehearsal.
By the time I saw Rose out the door—Finding spell in hand—I was too tired to bother going out again. Twenty-five degrees and fresh snow convinced me to forget about everything for the night and head upstairs to bed, where I cuddled with Bubba under the quilt. For once, I slept like the dead.
I WOKE TO find a dozen roses arranged in a vase by my bed, along with a box of chocolates and a handwritten note that said, “I love you. Aegis.” Stretching, I blinked as a ray of sunlight splashed through the French doors to wash across my bed. Blue sky winked through the windows, and for once, I was thrilled to see the hint of sunshine.
“What time is it?” I glanced down at Bubba, who was licking one paw. He rolled over on his back, exposing his belly as he let out a rumbling purr. “No, I am not rubbing your belly. But you look like you’ve been fed. Did Aegis feed you, Bub?”
“Purp.” The trilling purr rumbled through his meow.
“He did? I assume he went to bed on time.” One look at the sunbeam and I changed that to “I hope he went to bed.”
“Mrow,” Bubba answered in the affirmative.
“Good.” My irritation from the evening before had evaporated. I loved the gloom and rain of the area, but the sun was a welcome sight for a change. I slid from beneath the covers and padded into the bathroom for a shower, cringing at the icy chill on the floor.
This time, I locked the bathroom door.
After I was warm, clean, and smelling like peppermint, I dressed in a pair of comfortable black jeans that didn’t sausage-squeeze my ample butt and thighs and a plum V-neck sweater. I fastened a black leather belt around my waist and slipped into a pair of black suede slouch boots. They were almost flat with good traction, and they came up to mid-calf over my jeans. Side zippers allowed me to easily pull them off and on.
I clattered downstairs, humming to myself. Before I had breakfast, I decided to go out and pick up the paper. The paperboy always threw it into the backyard rather than bringing it around front. At first I thought it had something to do with him being afraid of Aegis, but given vampires slept in the daylight, it was probably just laziness.
“Bubba, I’m going to grab the paper. I’ll be right back.”
“Mrow.” Bubba was lounging in a sunbeam, lazily batting a catnip toy. I wasn’t sure how old the cjinn was—we had met around seventy-five years back—but he seemed content to mostly act like a cat.
I opened the sliding door that led from the kitchen out to the patio. As I stepped out into the cold, crystalline morning, scanning for the paper, I realized there was something in the yard, near the back fence. I couldn’t quite make out what it was, so I began to wade through the fresh snow until I reached a point where I could see clearly. There, frozen and surrounded by a stain of red frozen ice, lay Rose, dead as could be.
AFTER THAT, THINGS got a little fuzzy. It wasn’t that I had never seen a dead body. You don’t live close to four hundred years without running into a few corpses here and there, and I admit, I was responsible for more than a few of them. But facing the death of a friend was a far different experience. I stood there, unable to process what I was seeing as a whole. Instead, I noticed the frozen pool of blood surrounding her. The way her coat spread out meant she hadn’t buttoned it shut against the cold. The curious turn of one ankle—if she was alive, it would hurt like hell, so she must have twisted it fighting back. A crow was perched on a branch, eyeing Rose with speculative eyes, and I waved it away.
“Tell the Morrígan she can wait,” I said hoarsely. “And if you aren’t her servant, then get the fuck out of my yard.” Crows were harbingers of the Morrígan, but they were also opportunistic scavengers.
The crow cocked its head and flew away. I slowly crossed the snow to Rose, kneeling beside her. She wasn’t a friend on the scale that Sandy was, but she was a coven-mate and I liked her a lot. Finding her dead in my yard was as big a shock as I had had in a long time.
I tried to make sure that I didn’t touch anything near her so I wouldn’t contaminate the crime scene, but it was obvious she had been there for a while. The blood around her had frozen and she was covered with snow. I reached out, intending on feeling for a pulse, but then stopped. I knew she was dead. Without a word, I rose and pulled out my cell phone.
My first call was to Sandy. The moment she came on the line, I blurted out, “Can you come over? I just found Rose dead in my yard.”
After a frozen pause, she exploded. “What the hell? What happened? Did she have an accident?”
“I think she was murdered.” I stared down at the body, unable to look away. It was almost as though I was afraid she’d vanish if I closed my eyes.
“Get away from there! The murderer may come back. Have you called the cops yet?”
“No, but I will right after this. Please, come over. I’ll go inside, but Sandy, I think she’s been out here since last night.” I rang off, promising to phone her back if anything else happened before she got here.
On the way back to the house, I called the police. Delia Walters was the sheriff. She was a werewolf, and exceptionally good at ferreting out secrets. There weren’t many unsolved crimes in Bedlam, and people generally thought twice before pulling some stupid stunt they could get arrested for. She had been sheriff for the past twenty years, taking over from her grandfather, who had finally retired.
Inside, I searched for something to keep myself busy. I put the kettle on for tea and made some toast to calm my stomach. I was just pouring the boiling water into the teapot when the doorbell rang.
“Where’s the body?” Delia was a flurry of movement. She was short but sturdy, and her tawny hair was caught back in a tidy braid. Delia was all business. She was so focused on her work that she had rejected getting married or having children.
“Out back. It’s Rose Williams.” I caught the surprise on her face.
“Rose? Who could want her dead? Have you told anybody else about this?”
I could see the wheels turning in her head.
“I have no idea, and I only told Sandy. She’s on her way over.” I showed her through the kitchen. “I just made tea. Would you like a cup?”
“After I have a look around. This isn’t a social call.”
Yep, blunt to the point.
“Right. I didn’t even think.” Actually, that was the truth. I was running on autopilot and I realized that I was suffering a mild shock. “Out here.” This time, I stopped to shrug into my coat before leading Delia out to Rose.
She stopped me about six yards away. “Those are your footprints?”
I nodded. “Yes. I didn’t see any others around when I came out here. Even Rose’s were covered up, so I’m assuming she’s been here since she left my house last night.”
Delia motioned for me to stay back as she used my footprints to get to the body. She knelt and felt for a pulse. “Dead, all right. Did you touch anything?”
“No. I was going to check for a pulse but then thought that the chances of her being alive were pretty minute.” I wanted to sit down, but even the nearby bench was covered with snow. I wiped it off anyway and gingerly sat on the edge.
Delia frowned, looking intently at Rose. Then she stared at me for a moment until I felt uncomfortably scrutinized. “You’re wearing the s
ame coat, it looks like.”
“Right. We joked about it a week or so ago. I guess we have similar tastes.” I paused, then lowered my voice. “Had…similar tastes.”
Standing up, Delia glanced around the yard. “So, the backyard. That your driveway? I see three cars.”
“The CR-V is mine, the black Corvette belongs to Aegis, and the silver hatchback is Rose’s.” I shrugged. “That pretty much guarantees she was here all night. Look at the snow buildup on all of our cars. Aegis’s has the least amount. He was at a show. I guess he must have thought Rose stayed over.”
Delia stood, glancing at her watch. “The coroner should be here any minute.” She was still staring at Rose’s body. “You know, from this angle, she and you could be indistinguishable. She has long dark hair like you do, you’re both about the same height, and you’re wearing the same coat. She was in your yard.” She drifted off, leaving the thought unfinished, but I knew what she was getting at.
“Are you saying that you think that whoever murdered her thought she was me? That I was the intended target?” The thought hadn’t crossed my mind but now it was implanted firmly into my brain, and I pulled my coat tighter. “Who would want to murder me?” But even as I said it, I had to admit that I’d led a checkered-enough past that there were more than enough people who would be happy to see me take a nosedive.
“Who would want to murder Rose? The girl was young and well-liked in the community.” Delia’s phone beeped and she glanced at it, then texted something. “The coroner is here. I told Jif to come around through the side gate. He’s brought his team.”
Within moments, the coroner and his forensics team had taken over the backyard. I answered their questions one by one. Why had Rose been here? When did she leave? Had I noticed anything odd? When did Aegis return home? Did he come through the backyard, usually?
“He gets back late from shows and rehearsals. He might have come in by the front door, but it’s more likely that he came through his private entrance, which means he wouldn’t be crossing through the backyard.” I refrained from telling them that the entrance to his secret passage was near the garage, which was detached from the house, over by the cars. It wasn’t safe for anybody to know the location for a vampire’s private entrance.
“We’ll talk to him when he wakes up tonight. If I need him to, he can show me his private entrance at that time.” Delia understood why I was being obtuse. Werewolves and vampires really didn’t like each other—the old-wives’ tales were true—but they worked together as need be.
“Right.” As I watched, the forensics team took photographs, then slowly turned Rose over. The blood had come from her stomach, and it was frozen into a sheet of ice attached to her shirt. The team carefully broke the ice away, bagging it in case there was any evidence that might disappear if the ice melted before they got back to the hospital. As they separated the ice from her skin, a massive gash appeared in her stomach.
“Well, we know where she bled out.”
“Yeah,” I said, drawing a deep breath. The wound was ugly and vicious. “Is the knife still there?” I couldn’t see a blade anywhere, but maybe it had been lodged in the snow beneath her.
“Nope,” one of the men said. “Nothing that we can see. We’ll have to go through the yard to see if the murderer dropped anything.”
“That’s fine,” I said, staring at Rose’s astonished expression. Her death mask was heartbreaking. “I can’t believe someone murdered her in my yard. This is going to break her family’s heart. They’re already facing the disappearance of one daughter.” Rose was one of the rare people who had been born onto the island. She was still quite young—at least for a witch—at only sixty-seven. But she had been talented and quick to learn.
“What the hell?” Sandy appeared from the kitchen, coming out the sliding-glass doors. She stopped, gaping as she watched the men examining Rose. “Oh good gods. Somebody stabbed her?”
“Apparently so, but please keep this to yourself,” the sheriff said. “Let me make the official announcement. I don’t want you or Maddy talking to anybody about the death yet. We need to keep as much information private as possible so that we have a leg up on the murderer.” Delia tucked her notepad and pencil in her pocket, then nodded toward the kitchen. “How about that tea? I’d like to ask you both some more questions about Rose. The boys can finish up here just fine.”
As we tromped back into the kitchen, I realized I was shivering and it was from more than the cold. The sight of Rose’s face, and the realization that she was well and truly dead, had finally hit. As the shock wore off, my nerves were fraying.
Sandy must have noticed, because she steered me over to the kitchen table and motioned for Delia to join me. “I’ll bring the tea. You both look like you could use some food. Do you have any cookies or cake?” She poked her head in one of the cupboards.
“Yeah, there are cookies in the cookie jar over there—the one shaped like a black cat.” I slid onto the banquette below the window that looked outside. The kitchen table had four chairs around it, and the banquette provided room for two more.
Sandy brought over the tea and cookies, then cups and saucers from the cupboard. After she poured our tea, she settled down opposite me. Delia was to my right.
“I was telling Maddy here that, in the dark, with the same coat, she and Rose could be mistaken for one another.” Delia sipped the tea and, grimacing, pulled the sugar bowl over and scooped two heaping spoons into her cup.
Sandy looked from Delia to me, then back at Delia. “Are you saying you think Maddy was the actual target? That Rose somehow got in the way and was mistaken for her?”
“The thought crossed my mind, and now it’s nagging at me. I usually find that when that happens, I’m on to something. Do either of you know anything about Rose’s private life? Does she have a boyfriend? Was anybody bothering her? Stalking her, maybe?”
“Sandy knows her better than I do. I knew Rose from being in the same coven, but we usually get right to work at the meetings. We talk socially after for a while, but until I moved here a few weeks back, I didn’t have much of a chance to see her.”
Sandy nodded. “That’s true. Rose has always been private. She lives—lived—with her mother and father, and I don’t think she’s been dating anybody for a while. Her parents might know.”
“What about past boyfriends? Any of them ever show up at the coven meetings unannounced?” Delia was taking notes as she drank her tea.
I lifted my cup, breathing deeply as the steam of the peppermint filled my senses. I closed my eyes, willing it to take away the chill. I was cold to the bone, not just from being outside, but from the shock, and now the thought that I might have been the intended victim was making the cold settle in worse.
“No, not that I can remember. Most people are pretty respectful about the meetings. I think the last person Rose was seriously dating moved to the Bay Area.” Sandy squinted. Worry lines crisscrossed her forehead. “You’d have to ask her parents if she was seeing anybody new. Rose might actually have a diary somewhere. We encourage all our coven members to write down their experiences.”
“You said she was here asking help for a spell?” Delia turned back to me.
“Yes, she asked me to help her create a Finding spell. Her sister has gone missing and their family is worried sick. When she got here, she explained that her sister had moved to New York. Two weeks ago, all communications suddenly stopped. They contacted the police there, but there’s no clue of where Lavender—Rose’s sister—went. The Williamses filed a missing person’s report but there are so many missing people in the city that the cops don’t have time to hunt down every adult who vanishes.”
“Why did she ask you to create the spell? Why didn’t she do it?”
“Because I’m good at it and Rose knew that. She and her family are too emotionally invested in the situation. While she was here, I created a Finding spell specifically aimed at finding Lavender. R
ose was taking it home so that she and her parents could cast it. Their lineage is kitchen witchery—they don’t do hardcore magic.” I stopped. “Wait, did she have the spell with her? She should have had a paper with the instructions all written out, and a small bag of spell components on her. I gave her everything she’d need.”
“Let me talk to Jif.” Delia headed out back where the forensics team seemed to be wrapping up things.
Sandy leaned across the table. “She’s right. I can feel it, Maddy. Whoever killed Rose thought she was you. Mark my words, somebody’s out to get you.”
I didn’t want to agree, but it was looking like that might be the case.
Delia returned, rubbing her hands together. “Colder out there than a witch’s tit. No offense intended,” she added, grinning. “Well, they found her purse, her wallet, the note, and spell components. All her identification was there. In fact, it looks like robbery wasn’t the motive, because her credit cards and cash were still in her purse.”
“The spell wouldn’t be worth stealing. It was geared toward someone in particular. And if somebody really needed a Finding spell and couldn’t afford it, I’d work one up for them anyway. Everybody knows that—at least everybody who has had any contact with our coven. It’s not like I’m a total stranger to Bedlam.” I didn’t like the direction this was taking.
Delia made a few more notes, then asked, “How about you? Anything you want to tell me about Ralph Greyhoof?”
Startled, I blinked. “What? I don’t think he had anything to do with this. I mean, yes, he was here Saturday and yes, I did find him in my bathroom while I was taking a shower, but…” Then, I realized she was talking about the incident at the Calou Bakery, where Derek Lindsey had broken up our fight.
“You mean that wasn’t the first time you and Ralph got into it? Tell me everything that happened.” By the tone of her voice, I knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
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