Heart of Malice (Alice Worth Book 1)

by Lisa Edmonds

  Meanwhile, I focused my senses on Elise. I was shocked at what I felt.

  Nothing. No magic at all.

  “I haven’t seen your dog.” Elise seemed completely unmoved by my sniffling.

  “Your dogs are so sweet.” I reached down to pet one of them.

  Elise grabbed my hand. “Don’t—they might bite you.”

  Even with her touching me, I felt nothing. Elise was not the mage who had been in the library—not even close.

  Which left me with exactly zero suspects. What the hell?

  Chapter 15

  I backed away from Elise and her dogs. I didn’t have to fake looking tragic; my last lead had gone nowhere. “Well, if anybody sees our dog, please call us. My number is on his tag.”

  Tracee assured me she’d call. Elise didn’t say anything; she was too busy trying to keep her little dogs from biting Tracee.

  I headed back to the car, Sean beside me. “So?” he asked as we walked.

  “It’s not her.”

  Sean frowned. “How is that possible? You said it has to be one of them.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “It wasn’t Peter, Kathy, Deborah, or Elise. All of them have weak or no magical ability. I would have sworn it was one of Betty’s children. When I touched Peter, Kathy, and Deborah, I can sense that their magic is almost identical to the signature in the wards. It has to be one of them, but it isn’t!” We got into Sean’s car. I pulled off my hat and wig and tossed them into the duffel bag on the floor. “I don’t understand this at all.”

  “Could the mage be one of Natalie’s cousins?” Sean started the car.

  I shook my head. “The magic was almost identical to Betty’s. I’d have bet any amount of money the mage was one of her children. I’m trying to figure out what I’m doing wrong here. It makes no sense. Maybe Natalie found something in Betty’s papers.” I pulled my phone out and called my client.

  “Hey, Alice,” she said with far too much cheer, considering how my morning was going.

  “Are the wards finished and tested?” I asked. “Have you had a chance to start looking through Betty’s files?”

  “Malcolm is working on the library wards, so I haven’t gone in there yet. We still need to test the containment spell. How are you doing?”

  “I struck out,” I confessed. “I’ve contacted your uncle and all of your aunts, and none of them are the mage who was in your library.”

  A pause. “I thought you said it had to be one of them.”

  “I thought it did.”

  Natalie hummed a bit. “What about my grandmother’s sister and brother?”

  “It’s possible,” I mused. “You said they live nearby?”

  “Yes. Should I text you their addresses?”

  “That would be great. We can check them out this afternoon.”

  “Give me a few minutes to find the information—it’s probably in my grandmother’s address book.”

  “Thanks, Natalie.”

  “No problem!”

  We disconnected. I picked up my empty coffee cup and looked at it wistfully.

  Sean chuckled and pulled away from the curb. “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “I saw a coffee shop a couple of blocks from here. Might as well take a little break while we wait.”

  It was almost fifteen minutes before Natalie texted me the addresses of her great-aunt Helen and great-uncle Robert. In the meantime, since it was nearing lunchtime, I bought us some much-needed caffeine and sandwiches at the coffee shop. Sean tried to pay, arguing that since he was buying three sandwiches that it should be his treat, but I was insistent. It seemed only fair, since he’d bought breakfast and he’d been doing most of the driving. I added a cherry turnover to the order when I saw Sean eyeballing it in the dessert case.

  We settled in to eat at a table on the coffee shop’s patio. Sean seemed to have recovered from the unpleasantness of the petition ruse. In between bites, he brought up Invasion of the Body Snatchers again and launched into a rather interesting explanation of how many of the science fiction films of the fifties, sixties, and seventies were thinly veiled references to the fear of communism. I ate my lunch and listened to him talk.

  Sean Maclin, alpha werewolf and security consultant, was kind of nerdy. I liked it.

  When Natalie’s text finally came in, along with her apology for the delay, we looked up the addresses. Robert Finchley lived in an assisted-living facility in Springtown, a suburb about an hour’s drive away. Helen Matson lived another hour farther away from the city, in a town called Hope.

  “Who do you want first?” Sean finished his coffee and the last bite of sandwich number three. I was just finishing my half sandwich and still had most of my fruit salad to go. I was a little in awe of his appetite.

  “Might as well start with Robert in Springtown.”

  Sean took the opportunity to respond to some work e-mails while I finished my food. We threw away our trash and got back in the car. Sean put Finchley’s address in his GPS and headed out.

  “Do you want me to do some of the driving?” I asked. “I feel bad that you’ve been chauffeuring me all over the city for the past day.”

  “I don’t mind it. I drive for clients all the time.” He paused. “And it’s hard for me to ride shotgun.”

  “I understand.” An alpha needed to be in control, and the past few days hadn’t been easy on him in that regard. As much as it rankled me to be in the passenger seat, I could live with it for the rest of today. After that, we’d see. I didn’t much care for riding shotgun either.

  Sean talked more about movies during the drive to Springtown. He was already making plans for several double-feature movie nights.

  When Sean finally turned into Pine Ridge Resort Village forty-five minutes later, my jaw dropped. I saw what looked like a nine-hole golf course, tennis courts, multiple pools, a network of shady sidewalks connecting brick townhouses, and dozens of very spry-looking seniors out and about on the grounds as we parked in front of the building marked Office.

  “The old guy’s not doing too badly here,” Sean said as we got out.

  “No freaking kidding.” We entered the office and approached the reception desk.

  “Can I help you?” a young red-haired nurse asked us.

  “We’d like to see Robert Finchley,” I said.

  “Can I see your identification?”

  Sean and I both gave her our driver’s licenses. The nurse recorded our information, then handed them back, along with two guest badges on lanyards. We put them on.

  The nurse checked the computer. “Unit 5B. Go out this door, then turn right. It will be the third building on your left.”

  We thanked her and headed back outside. “I don’t think my parents would go for a place like this,” Sean said as we walked. “But if it ends up that one or both of them need to move to a retirement community, this isn’t so bad.”

  I wondered if he was fishing for information about my parents, but his tone seemed casual. “It’s pretty far from your standard nursing home, that’s for sure,” I said.

  We traded cheery hellos with several residents on our way to Finchley’s townhouse. We found 5B easily, and I rang the doorbell. To my surprise, the door opened almost immediately.

  The white-haired gentleman who answered held a cane in one hand, but he looked remarkably energetic for a man of nearly eighty. “The front office called ahead to say I had some visitors.” His voice was strong, and his eyes were bright. “I’m Robert. What can I do for you?”

  I smiled and held out my hand. “My name is Alice Worth. I’m a private investigator. This is Sean Maclin, my colleague.”

  It was Finchley’s turn to be surprised. “Well, my goodness.” He reached out to take my hand and eyed me with interest. “How exciting.”

  I lowered my shields as our hands touched and felt a flare of air magic. Mid-level, I thought—not weak like Betty’s children. Interesting. I felt no fire magic, however, and was quickly sure Robert was not the mys
tery mage. He was a mage, though, and that made me wonder what he might know about the family’s magic.

  “Why don’t you come in?” Finchley said, stepping aside.

  Sean and I entered the spotless house. “Can I get you some iced tea?” Finchley asked.

  We declined. The elderly man led us to a small sunroom off the living room, and we settled into a wicker love seat while Finchley lowered himself into an armchair. “How can I help you, Miss Worth?”

  “I was hired by your grand-niece, Natalie Newton, to look for some books that have gone missing from your sister Betty’s personal library.”

  Finchley’s bushy eyebrows drew together. “I see,” he said heavily. “Of course, you won’t mind if I call my niece to verify that you are who you say you are?”

  “Please do. I have her number handy, if you need it.”

  “I appreciate that.” Finchley reached for a cordless telephone, and I read Natalie’s number off for him as he punched in the numbers. We waited as the phone rang.

  When Natalie answered, our host said, “Natalie, good afternoon. This is your Uncle Robert.” Finchley looked at me. “I have some surprise visitors today. I wonder if you could tell me who they are?”

  Finchley listened. “And these people…they know about your grandmother’s library?” Finchley asked, his voice hardening. If the family had taken such pains to keep their magic secret, I could well imagine he would not be happy about the information getting out.

  I couldn’t hear Natalie’s response, but it was lengthy. Her tone sounded urgent and apologetic.

  Whatever Natalie said, it seemed to mollify Finchley. He exchanged a few pleasantries with her, then hung up.

  “My niece seems to think you’re trustworthy.” The older man nailed me with a hard look. “I have to say I’m less than thrilled you know about our family’s private business.”

  “My contract with Natalie includes a confidentiality agreement. Beyond that, I’m a mage myself,” I told him frankly. “I have no love for SPEMA, and I violate SPERA regulations more than I follow them. I assure you, no one will ever hear about your family’s secret from me.”

  Finchley looked at Sean. “And you, Mr. Maclin?”

  Sean didn’t hesitate. “I’m a shifter.” I was surprised he volunteered that information, but Finchley didn’t even blink. “Like Alice, I have no use for the Agency, and I’ve signed a confidentiality agreement.”

  Our forthrightness softened Finchley’s expression, and the tension left his shoulders. “I appreciate your honesty,” he said gruffly, leaning back in his chair and reaching for a glass of iced tea on the table beside him. “It hasn’t been easy, obviously, to keep our family out of SPEMA’s records.”

  “Is that why Betty bound Natalie’s magic?” I asked.

  Finchley started. “She never told me about that. That poor girl. I suppose Betty’s binding spells failed?”

  “They did, but luckily, I was there when it happened.”

  The old man sighed. “I wish I could say I was surprised my sister would do something like that, but I suppose I’m not. Betty was always cautious. We’ve all had to be careful, of course, but she was always so worried we’d be found out. I don’t understand why she didn’t want Natalie to know she had magic, though. No one in our family has ever been bound once they were old enough to learn control.”

  “We certainly haven’t come across any explanations so far. Natalie has requested I find someone to train her, and I’m working on that. In the meantime, I’ve bound her magic and warded her house, as well as the library, to protect what’s in there.” I watched him closely as I said it.

  Finchley’s look of bewilderment looked genuine. “The books? Betty’s spell books, certainly, but I don’t think anything else in there is particularly valuable. We want to keep outsiders away, of course.” He paused. “You said something has gone missing from the library. What’s missing?”

  “Something Betty had in a hidden compartment in the bottom of one of the bookcases. We’re not sure what it was. Any ideas?”

  “None at all,” Finchley said, and I believed him. “My sister and I didn’t talk about magic; no one in our family does. I suppose it’s always been something of a taboo subject. The need for secrecy, you see. It’s not always easy to tell who might be listening.”

  “I understand. Other than Betty, Natalie, and yourself, who else in the family has magic?”

  Finchley looked at me, saying nothing.

  As a good-faith gesture, I decided to put another card on the table. “Whoever took the item from Betty’s library has strong magic. I first suspected one of her children, but I’ve been able to eliminate them.”

  Finchley smiled. “As you’ve eliminated me, I suspect, with that long handshake.”

  “Yes.” I smiled back.

  “Well, if you’ve contacted my nieces and nephew, you know they have little or no magic. Natalie’s mother, God rest her soul, had air magic, but not much. Is Natalie’s magic strong?”

  “No.”

  “Thank God for that,” Finchley said. “It’s better that way.”

  I didn’t comment on that. “What about your sister, Helen?”

  Finchley looked thoughtful. “Helen has air and fire magic, like Betty. It’s not strong, but she does have it. Are you going to visit her as well?”

  “I think so.” My ears perked up. It looked like we were headed to Hope after all. “Can you think of anything else I might need to know about Betty that could help us figure out what she had hidden in her library?”

  Finchley thought about that, then shook his head. “I really can’t. As I said, we never spoke about magic. Whatever it was, I suppose she took that secret to her grave.” He regarded me. “What magic do you have, Miss Worth?”

  “Air and earth.”

  “Earth magic,” he said wistfully. “I was always so envious of Betty’s fire. My own magic seemed so dull by comparison.” My skin prickled as a warm breeze swirled through the room, then vanished. Sean started and Finchley winked at me.

  I glanced around and spotted a shelf full of small antique apothecary bottles. Finchley appeared to collect them. “May I?” I asked, pointing at the shelf.

  He raised his bushy eyebrows. “Help yourself.”

  I fetched one of the bottles and brought it over to our host, pulling out the stopper. Finchley and Sean leaned forward to watch.

  I held out my right hand, and a tendril of green flame rose from my palm. It snaked into the bottle, then coiled into a spiral. I murmured an incantation, and the flame brightened for a moment before dimming to a soft green glow. I stoppered the bottle and handed it to Finchley.

  “Give it a little energy once a week to keep it charged. If you need a bright light, the spell is ‘Luminous.’ The flare lasts for about a minute.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Finchley lifted the bottle to peer at the spiral flame. “An amazing construction, and you did it so easily.”

  “Lots of practice,” I said with a ghost of a smile. I’d had many lonely hours locked in my rooms in the cabal compound to master cold-fire forms. The luminary spell was one of my favorites.

  Finchley set the bottle on his side table and rose from his chair. Sean stood as well.

  “Thank you for visiting me,” Finchley said. “It was surprisingly pleasant to talk about magic with you.”

  “We appreciate you taking the time to visit with us,” I told Natalie’s great-uncle as we followed him back to the front door. “My condolences on the loss of your sister.”

  “Betty was a good person,” Finchley said. “I’m sorry Natalie never knew about her magic, but I suppose my sister thought it was for the best. I’m glad she knows now, and that you were there to help her.” He took my hand and squeezed it.

  Sean and I said our good-byes, and Finchley closed the door behind us as we headed down the walkway.

  “That was incredible,” Sean said.

  “What was?”

  “The fire in the bottle. I�
�ve never seen anything like that. I didn’t even know it was possible.”

  “Had a lot of downtime when I was a kid.” I shrugged.

  I caught Sean’s look of surprise out of the corner of my eye and realized I’d just casually referenced my life prior to arriving in the city. I turned away from him to watch a tennis game in progress.

  We turned in our guest IDs at the office and returned to the car. “Are we bound for Hope?” Sean asked as we got in and shut the doors.

  “It looks like it. Robert said Helen has both fire and air magic, same as the signature in the wards.”

  “He said her magic wasn’t strong, though,” Sean pointed out as he headed out of the Pine Ridge parking lot.

  “He might be mistaken or have been misled about how strong her magic is. We’ll just have to find out for ourselves.”

  “He’s probably calling her to let her know we’re coming,” Sean commented.

  “More than likely,” I sighed. “Can’t be helped. Hopefully, she’ll be willing to talk to us.”

  *

  She wasn’t.

  Sean and I stood on Helen Matson’s porch, talking to her closed front door. “Mrs. Matson—” I began.

  “My brother said you were nosing around, asking about Betty,” came the querulous voice from inside the house. “I have nothing to say to you. Go away.”

  I met Sean’s gaze, then glanced at the door. Somehow, he got my meaning and turned to the door, unleashing a category-five smile. I hoped Helen Matson was still peering through the peephole, though I worried the sheer force of his grin might be too much for the old lady’s heart. “Mrs. Matson, my name is Sean Maclin. Ms. Worth and I certainly don’t want to bother you, but your great-niece Natalie hired us to track down some items that have gone missing from Betty’s library.”

  As Sean was speaking and hopefully drawing Helen’s attention away from me, I closed my eyes, lowered my shields, and reached out with my senses.

  Sensing magic without skin contact is a very different—and much more difficult—process. Sean and Helen’s voices faded into a faint murmur as I focused on the older woman’s energy, which was muffled but not concealed by the walls of her home. I had to pass through the physical barrier to reach her, and it took effort. I was able to sense Helen’s magic, but it was indistinct. I lowered my shields more and concentrated harder.