Cloaks and Daggers

by Annabel Chase

  “They are vampires though,” I said. “They’ve had centuries to perfect the art of therapy.”

  Shaylene returned with two glowing balls of glitter. “Who wants green?”

  Mayor Lucy’s hand shot in the air. “Me.”

  Shaylene dropped the green ball into the mayor’s spa and the blue one into mine. The water glimmered like a disco ball.

  “Did you choose your polish?” Shaylene asked.

  “I’m going with the usual,” Mayor Lucy said. She turned to me. “It’s called Bamboo-zled.”

  “That sounds fun,” I said. “What are my options?”

  Shaylene pulled her star-capped wand from her pocket and waved it in the air until a board filled with colors and images appeared in front of me.

  I spotted one of a ballerina pirouetting and immediately thought of the glass figurine in Kiss My Glass. “Ooh, I like that polish. Spin Control.”

  “Good choice.” Shaylene plucked the bottle from the air and set it on my tray. “I’ll start with the mayor and then you’ll be next.”

  “Perfect. We’re not in a rush,” Mayor Lucy said. She twisted to look at me. “We’re not, right? Is your milk going to start leaking everywhere if we don’t finish in an hour?”

  “I’ll be fine, thanks,” I said. I didn’t feel like explaining that my cups never runneth over. No need to dwell on my maternal failures.

  “Oh, good. I just pictured you walking around town with two wet spots on your shirt.” The fairy laughed. “We can add those to your statue and really set tongues wagging.”

  Shaylene snickered. “I do love that statue.”

  “My father thinks it’s the coolest thing ever,” I said. “He’s mistaken it as a sign of worship.”

  “Tell me more about him,” Mayor Lucy said. “Is he scary?”

  “No, like I told you, he seems oddly normal, except he seems intent on smiting anyone who wrongs me.”

  “What does he want?” she asked.

  “He says he wants to be a family. We haven’t talked in depth yet. I’ve been sort of distracted.”

  Mayor Lucy blinked. “Your demigod bio dad shows up on your doorstep and you’re too distracted to get real with him? Is this what baby hormones do to a woman’s system?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “I’m taking my time.”

  “Why? I know you’re going to live an extended life and everything, but it seems strange to just avoid him.”

  Shaylene glanced over at me. “She’s not wrong.”

  “I’m not avoiding him,” I argued. “I’ve spent time with him. He came for tea and another time we went to the pub together.”

  “And did you talk there?” Mayor Lucy asked.

  “Not about us. I was there to interview potential suspects.”

  Mayor Lucy groaned. “Emma, I love you with my whole heart, but listen to yourself.”

  Shaylene shifted to the stool in front of my spa and began to work on my feet. “I don’t know you as well, but it sounds like avoidance to me too.”

  My body tensed. Suddenly this celebration was starting to feel like an inquisition. “How about we change the subject?”

  “Avoidance,” Mayor Lucy coughed into her hand.

  “Did you know about Lady Weatherby?” I asked.

  Panic flickered across Mayor Lucy’s face. “You know about the hearing?”

  “Were you going to tell me?” I wriggled as Shaylene scrubbed the bottom of my feet.

  “I was undecided.”

  “That’s kind of a decision,” I said.

  “I didn’t want to upset you when you’re in such a delicate state.”

  “What delicate state? I’m not pregnant anymore,” I said.

  “Avoidance,” Shaylene coughed.

  Mayor Lucy slumped against the chair. “Fine. I admit it. I was hoping you wouldn’t find out and Lady Weatherby would be released and disappear into the magical ether. Forever. The end.”

  I covered the fairy’s hand with mine. “It’s okay, Lucy. I understand why you didn’t want to tell me.”

  “You do?” She stretched her legs and admired her sparkling toes. “I know stress is bad for milk production, at least that’s what I’ve heard. I didn’t want to cause you any anxiety.”

  “Because you’re a good friend and I appreciate it.” There was no way I could be upset with Lucy. Her heart was always in the right place.

  “Will you go?” she asked.

  “To the hearing? I haven’t decided one hundred percent. I think it might be a good idea.”

  The fairy nodded. “I’ll go too. For moral support.”

  My expression softened. “You’re the best.”

  Sheriff Astrid poked her head into the alcove. “I heard you were here.”

  I wiggled my toes. “A little pampering, courtesy of our favorite mayor.”

  Mayor Lucy snorted. “Well, we know you don’t mean Knightsbridge.” She gestured to the empty seat on the other side of me. “Care to beautify your toes? I’m sure they can make time for the sheriff.”

  The Valkyrie contemplated the spa chair and I could tell she was considering it. “I’m on duty.”

  “You’re always on duty,” Mayor Lucy said. “So am I. If we don’t make time for ourselves, who will?”

  Sheriff Astrid glanced at the Shaylene. “Can you fit me in?”

  The fairy snapped her fingers at someone in the distance. “Poloma can attend to you.”

  Another fairy fluttered into view as the sheriff dropped into the chair. She settled in front of the sheriff’s foot spa. “Welcome to Glow, Sheriff Astrid. How much glitter do you want?”

  I stifled a laugh. Only in a fairy spa was the assumption that you wanted any glitter at all.

  “No glitter. Just a transparent polish.” The sheriff looked at me. “I want to update you on the case anyway. I may as well multitask.”

  “Now you’re talking my language,” Mayor Lucy said.

  The Valkyrie removed her boots and socks.

  Mayor Lucy recoiled in horror. “Exactly when is the last time you showed your feet any attention?”

  Sheriff Astrid looked down at her bare feet. The toenails were slightly yellow and mangled. “I wear boots almost every day. They’re tough on my feet.”

  “Show those babies some tenderness,” Mayor Lucy said. “Sheesh.” She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes as unseen hands massaged her neck and shoulders.

  “There were no fingerprints on the candlestick,” Sheriff Astrid said.

  “That’s disappointing,” I said. “It was wiped clean?”

  “Well, only as far as the prints,” she replied. “The blood was still there and we matched it to Andrea.”

  The attendant fairies exchanged glances. “Blood?” Shaylene queried.

  “This is confidential business,” Sheriff Astrid said.

  “Oh, we keep secrets,” Shaylene said. “Don’t we, Poloma?”

  The other fairy nodded vigorously. “You don’t want to know what we hear.” She grimaced. “Makes you lose your faith in paranormals.”

  Mayor Lucy bent forward. “Well, now I really want to know.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You can tell me. I’m the mayor.”

  Shaylene bit back a smile. “I’ve been doing your mani pedis long enough, Mayor. I’m not telling you a thing.”

  “Did you find a journal mixed in with Andrea’s personal effects?” I asked.

  “Like a diary?” Sheriff Astrid asked.

  “Yes. Plain cover. Nothing fancy,” I said.

  “No, nothing like that. Just clothes and toiletries.”

  “Just clothes and toiletries?” Mayor Lucy asked. “Not even jewelry?”

  “Andrea didn’t seem like the kind of elf into bling,” I said.

  Shaylene rolled her eyes. “Oh, an elf? What do you expect? They’re basically us without wings or style.”

  “Or personalities,” Poloma added.

  “What about her phone?” I asked. The whole crew had ac
cess to technology.

  “Britta and I went through it,” Sheriff Astrid said. “There wasn’t much there.”

  “Really?” That was surprising. Andrea seemed like someone with a very long to-do list and thousands of messages barking orders.

  “I don’t have experience with phones, remember?” Sheriff Astrid said. “It’s possible I missed something that I should’ve noticed.”

  “Can we swing by the office after this and I can take a look at the phone?” I asked.

  “Absolutely. I should’ve thought to ask you in the first place.” She peered at the bottle of polish next to the fairy. “That color looks a little dark.”

  Poloma squinted back at her. “It’s transparent.”

  The Valkyrie seemed uncomfortable with the idea of any sort of shine on her toes. “Fine. I can handle it.”

  Mayor Lucy leaned across me. “I think you should schedule a standing appointment here.”

  “Throw in a massage too,” Poloma said under her breath.

  “Is it dry yet? Can I go?” The sheriff seemed desperate to get back to her comfort zone.

  Poloma plucked a wand from the side of her stool and flicked the end at the sheriff’s toes. “Dry enough.”

  She shot out of the chair and grabbed her boots. “Let’s go, Emma.”

  “My treat,” Mayor Lucy said, and waved us away. “I’ll see you at the hearing.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I said.

  The sheriff and I made it back to her office in record time, despite the state of our feet. Trying to keep up with the Valkyrie’s long strides was like trying to follow Daniel in flight.

  “Did something happen to your boots?” Deputy Britta asked.

  The sheriff glanced down at her bare feet. “The polish is probably dry enough for boots now. I should put them back on.”

  “Normally you wear flip flops or something so that your polish doesn’t get scuffed by the tops of your shoes,” I said, “but it’s not like you planned for a pedicure.”

  “You got a pedicure?” Deputy Britta asked. “Let me see.” She came over to inspect her sister’s feet. “Nice buff job, especially on the heel. I like what she did with the cuticles.”

  Sheriff Astrid cocked her head at her sister. “Since when are you such an expert?”

  “Paisley has definite opinions on pedicures,” Deputy Britta said. “She has a whole rating system. You should go with her next time. It’s quite an experience.”

  “Do you go with her?” I asked.

  The deputy shrugged. “I’m too ticklish. I tried once and I squirmed so much in my chair that I fell on the floor. Paisley wasn’t amused.”

  “I don’t know that I want to make it a regular thing,” the sheriff admitted. “It was more of a spontaneous act.”

  “Which is nice to do every so often,” I said. “Especially for someone like you who’s routine-oriented.”

  “You like routine as much as I do,” the sheriff shot back.

  I held up my hands. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m definitely a creature of habit, now more so than ever with the baby. There’s no choice.”

  “Paisley and I are talking about adopting a baby,” Deputy Britta announced.

  Two heads swiveled toward her. “You are?” The sheriff beat me to the question. “Shouldn’t you think about getting married first?”

  Deputy Britta lightly punched her sister’s arm. “Since when did you become old-fashioned?”

  The sheriff’s cheeks turned crimson. “That did sound judgmental, didn’t it?”

  I was more concerned with the idea of Britta raising a baby than I was with the fact that she and Paisley weren’t married. The Valkyrie would’ve received the Most Likely To Eat Glue award in school. I decided it was more important to focus on Andrea’s murder rather than someone else’s life event that may or may not happen.

  “We should take a look at that phone,” I said.

  Sheriff Astrid strode past the front desk, no doubt eager to avoid the rest of the conversation with her sister. I followed her into her office, where the phone was nestled in a box on the desk.

  “It’s all yours,” the sheriff said. “Do you mind if I watch what you do?”

  “Feel free.” I opened each app on the phone and scanned the contents. “Her messages have been scrubbed. Even her emails. Whoever did this was in a hurry. They didn’t pick and choose. They just nuked it all.”

  “Nuked it?” the sheriff queried.

  “It’s a human world expression. Nuke is short for nuclear.” I waved a dismissive hand. “The killer didn’t discriminate. They just got rid of everything they could across the board.”

  “There were no prints on the phone either,” the sheriff said. “They were in a hurry, but they took time to wipe away traces of their DNA on the phone and the murder weapon.”

  I was more convinced than ever that the journal was the key. Someone erased messages and took the journal because they knew there was incriminating evidence there.

  Sheriff Astrid stared at the phone blankly. “Is there a way to recover the messages that have been deleted?”

  “Probably not with technology,” I said. “Maybe I can try a recovery spell though.” I pulled my wand from my waistband and pointed it at the phone. I focused my will and said, “Alpha, gamma, delta, beta/Recover these messages, recover this data.”

  The sheriff and I bumped our heads together as we watched for signs of change. The screen lit up briefly but then went back to its normal shade.

  “Anything?” the sheriff asked.

  I tapped on each app. Nothing. When I clicked on text messages, a partial message appeared. It didn’t say much, but there was a name. “It looks like the last message was from Jackie. That’s all I can see.”

  The sheriff examined the screen. “Well, it’s better than nothing. She said she’s staying at the Harpy’s Nest.”

  I pulled a face. “In that case, she’s being punished enough.”

  She laughed. “All we have is her name in a message. We don’t know what the message said. Jackie worked for Andrea. It could’ve been about camera equipment.”

  “Oh, I know.” And Jackie seemed really nice when I spoke to her at the house, not that nice behavior was a sure sign of innocence. “If we ask to see her phone, we can see the message from her end.”

  “I didn’t think to ask for everyone’s phones,” Sheriff Astrid said, shaking her head in annoyance. “This technology is new territory for me.”

  “It’s not too late to ask to see them,” I said. “If they have nothing to hide, they’ll hand them over.”

  “Will you go through the phones with me?” she asked. “I don’t want to miss anything. As it is, the killer has already had time to erase evidence because I’m incompetent.”

  I elbowed her. “You’re not incompetent. Don’t even think that. Like you said, this is uncharted territory for you. There’s bound to be a learning curve. Whatever you need, you know I’m willing to help.”

  “Thanks, Emma. You’re a good friend.”

  “Just let me know when you have the phones,” I said. “You can bring them to the house and we’ll go through them while Diana is in her swing.” I enjoyed the idea of being a multitasking mom.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I still think if we find the journal, we find our killer. They had to be close enough to Andrea to know that she kept one and where she kept it.” It was unlikely that Andrea talked openly about her journal to someone she didn’t know well, which basically ruled out Ashini and Ryan. Everyone else was still fair game.

  “And you think they took the journal because it has incriminating information?”

  “Seems like a solid reason to confiscate it,” I said. “Same as deleting the messages.”

  “What if the killer didn’t hide it though? What if the journal was destroyed?”

  Good question. I had no idea. “If it was burned, there’d be evidence of a fire and I didn’t see any.” The fireplace ha
dn’t been used.

  “What about magic?” the sheriff asked. “There are magic users in the group. One of them could’ve done a spell that made the journal disappear.”

  I drummed my fingers on the desk. “We need to try to find that journal, or at least what happened to it. That’s how we find our killer.” I was certain of it.

  The sheriff’s gaze lingered on the phone. “Then I guess we should start by talking to Jackie.”

  “Again,” I said.

  She nodded somberly. “Again.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sheriff Astrid and I went straight to the Harpy’s Nest from her office to see Jackie and view her end of the message.

  “Come in,” Calliope said. She wore a tasteful black dress and a pearl necklace. “We’re in the middle of a card game. You’re more than welcome to join.”

  “Do you always dress up to play cards?” the sheriff asked.

  I knew for a fact that they didn’t and I wondered whether they were entertaining male guests. Gentlemen callers were usually the impetus for the Minor harpies to get gussied up.

  Calliope guided us into the sunroom where the rest of the harpies sat at a large round table. Jackie sat among them, though I almost failed to recognize her. With their black lace hats and solemn black dresses, they looked like they’d walked off the set of a mafia movie during the Italian funeral scene.

  “What are you all wearing?” I asked.

  “They have amazing wardrobes,” Jackie said, beaming. “They let me go through their closets and pull out clothes for us to wear.”

  “Who knew having another female in the house would be such fun?” Phoebe asked. “I fully expected to be annoyed, but this one is a breath of fresh air.” I noticed she wore a pair of black lace gloves that went up to her elbows.

  “Would you like an outfit?” Darcy offered. “There are plenty of options on Octavia’s bed.”

  “No one’s going into my bedroom,” the matriarch thundered.

  Darcy shuddered. “Sorry, Grandmother. If you don’t mind, I’d be happy to fetch them dresses and accessories to wear.”

  Octavia looked me up and down. “Give her the peacock dress. She needs something special to distract from those bags under her eyes.”