by Zoe Arden
"How's Colt?" I asked.
Colt Hudson had gone with Sheriff Knoxx to Mistmoor. Lincoln didn't object since he felt he needed all the help he could get. I didn't object either, how could I? Colt was my boyfriend, not my husband. Even then I would never have told him not to go. Still, the sheriff had seen him more in the last two days than I had. I was a little jealous.
"Fine, worried about his dad. The sentencing is coming up. He wants to be there for it. His mom said she'd go if he can't make it."
"I can go, too," I said. Why hadn't I thought of that? Colt's dad had saved my life. The least I could do was be there for him when the Council on Magic and Human Affairs came back with their verdict. I was still sending good vibes Russell Hudson's way. He'd made some mistakes, sure, but I thought he'd already paid the price for them. Getting turned into a vampire was never easy.
"It won't help," Sheriff Knoxx said matter-of-factly. "It's not as though Dean Lampton is going to change his mind just because more people show up. Russell's strong, he can take it, whatever it is."
"You don't think it will be execution, do you?"
There'd been a lot of talk around town since Sweetland Cove residents discovered that there were rogue vampires in their midst. Melbourne was still hiding out in his house, unable to face the looks from the townspeople. Faking your death had a tendency to make people give you strange looks. Melbourne had wisely decided to leave his shop, Coffee Cove, in William Carney's capable hands for now. William had run it while Melbourne was gone, and he'd done a good job. Melbourne would return to it when he was ready.
"No," Sheriff Knoxx said, "I don't think execution is even on the table. If Colt's father hadn't saved your life, then maybe, but not now." His brow crinkled. "Technically, Russ didn't even kill anyone, Vlaski Ambrose did. He's the one who got Rachel Sessler and attacked Dean Lampton. I'm not sure that Russ actually did anything wrong, other than running with a bad crowd."
The doorbell rang and the sheriff shot an irritated glance in its direction, as if it whoever it was had rung it just to antagonize him. "Don't bother," he said, stopping me before I got up. "It's Otis. I'm developing a sixth sense about him and that skunk of his."
"I think Tadpole is sweet," Eleanor said.
"Me, too," Trixie agreed, clinking her spoon against her cup.
My father and I remained silent on the issue. Sheriff Knoxx opened the door, holding his hand up, a flesh and blood stop sign. He was trying to prevent Otis from entering our home. Tadpole was perched on his shoulder. He looked eagerly around at our interior. His eyes spotted Snowball on the stairs. Snowy stopped, paused, and cocked her head to the side.
"Snowball does not recognize that species of cat," she said.
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
"Tadpole's not a cat, Snowy, he's a skunk."
Snowball shrugged and walked on to her food dish, disinterested in anything except her tuna.
Otis was hopping from one foot to the other, more nervous than usual. "Sheriff, a call just came in from Colt, I mean Detective Hudson. He said he tried reaching you on the radio but you didn't answer."
Sheriff Knoxx pulled the radio from his belt and pushed the button. The static that usually rolled out of it was non-existent.
"Warthogs," he muttered, "it must be broken. Maybe the batteries..."
"SHERIFF!" Otis yelled. His voice, generally soft spoken, actually filled the room. I'd never heard him so loud. Everyone stopped talking. Otis finally busted past Sheriff Knoxx and started pacing in our kitchen.
"I'm sorry, but I think you're all gonna want to hear this," Otis breathed. Tadpole nudged his nose against Otis’ cheek, urging him to get on with it. "Colt says you need to get back to Mistmoor right away, Sheriff. They found a body."
"A body?" I asked, looking at my aunts. My dad's hand paused on the coffee pot.
"That's right. A dead body," Otis continued, as if we hadn't understood.
"Otis, whose body is it?" Sheriff Knoxx asked.
"That's the thing, Sheriff. It's yours!"
* * *
0 2
* * *
Sheriff Knoxx pinched his face up like he didn't understand what Otis had just told him. I wasn't sure I'd heard right either.
"My body?" Sheriff Knoxx asked. Otis nodded. The sheriff was clearly having trouble wrapping his head around that. We all were.
"I don't understand, Otis. How can it be my body? I'm right here."
Eleanor's face went pale. She jumped from her chair and grabbed hold of Sheriff Knoxx as if he were a balloon about to float away.
"Don't worry," he told her. "I assure you, I'm not dead." He squeezed her hand reassuringly. That didn't stop her from hugging him so tight he started to turn blue.
"It's a sign," she said. "A bad omen."
"Eleanor, we're getting married in less than a month and nothing is going to happen to me. All right? I promise."
Eleanor only gripped him tighter, until he turned a dangerous shade of purple. "If anything happens to you—"
"It won't."
"But if it does... I'm going with you. To Mistmoor."
"Eleanor, this is police business."
"I don't care. I'm going." She ran out the door and got into his police cruiser before he could stop her. His shoulders hunched forward; he knew when he'd been beaten. "All right," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "She wins."
"You better get used to it if you're getting married," my dad told him. "You might not know it yet, but your wife is never wrong. The faster you learn that, the happier you'll be."
Trixie and my dad didn't like the idea of Eleanor going to Mistmoor alone. It wasn't that long ago that Mistmoor had threatened to go to war with Sweetland Cove, all because of some obscure, ancient rule that Sweetland's own Mayor Thomas had found in some old law books.
The general consensus in town was that Mayor Thomas had been drunk on power, wanting to rule over all of Heavenly Haven, not just Sweetland Cove. It had taken the last-minute intervention of Dean Lampton to settle things between us but tensions were still high. Mistmoor didn't trust us, not that they ever had. We didn't trust them, not that we ever would. Mayor Thomas had suffered the loss of some popularity points since then. No one had wanted to go to war. The fact that he was willing to do so just for his own personal gain left Sweetland Cove unsettled.
The whole thing was enough of a mess that Trixie and my father didn't automatically object when I suggested I go with Eleanor. Sheriff Knoxx would be busy working the case and Eleanor was in a fragile state. Eleanor protested that she would be fine, but in the end, I convinced her that two sets of eyes were better than one. I could help her figure things out. I bet that once we got down there, we'd see that the whole thing was a huge mix-up. No way did the body look like Sheriff Knoxx. Not exactly.
Sheriff Knoxx groaned when I told him I was going, too. "Just make sure you two stay out of trouble. In fact, just sit in the car when we get there. I'll leave the radio on for you."
It was a spring day; then again, every day on Heavenly Haven was like spring. When we got to Mistmoor, Eleanor and I promptly opened our doors. Sheriff Knoxx's chest heaved but he said nothing. Two women against one man? He was never going to win that battle.
The body had washed up on Mistmoor Beach. It lay sprawled on the sand about a hundred yards ahead of us. I could see the hair, the hard-set chin, the sheriff's uniform. From the distance, it was Sheriff Knoxx's spitting image. Eleanor stumbled. Sheriff Knoxx caught her before she could fall. I saw her face, pale and worn. It matched the sheriff's.
"Ava, would stay here with your aunt?"
I wanted to get a better look but Eleanor was shaking. "Okay," I agreed. My mind was already busy, thinking, analyzing. If there was a professional assassin in Mistmoor, why was he here? Had someone hired him or was he acting on his own?
Colt was walking around in circles, talking to Lincoln as he examined the body from all angles. This was the same beach where Snowball had foun
d me once upon a time. I kept waiting for Colt to see me, but he was too engrossed in his work. When Sheriff Knoxx approached, he finally looked up. The sheriff said something to him and Colt looked in our direction. I smiled and waved.
He smiled back, but it was grim. He came toward me as Sheriff Knoxx stepped in to take his place.
The first thing Colt said was, "It's not him. The body, I mean, it's not Sheriff Knoxx."
"I kind of figured that out," I said.
He nodded toward Eleanor, who was sitting in the sand with her knees to her chest. She was resting her head on the tops of her knees and only shot Colt a cursory glance.
"It's an omen," she said.
"Yeah," Colt scoffed, "an omen that we have a professional killer on our hands."
"A professional? Are you talking about the assassin who attacked Tazzie Singer?"
"That's right."
Now Colt had Eleanor's attention. She stood up, brushing the sand off her emerald green skirt. "What does Sheriff Knoxx's body double have to do with a professional assassin? You think they're connected? Is it the same man who attacked Tazzie Singer?"
"I can't get into all that right now, just trust me when I tell you—Ava? Ava, where are you going?"
I was walking toward the shoreline, toward the body. Beach patrons had been cleared off the sand. Normally there were surfers, tourists, you name it, walking idly around. Not now. On either side of the beach, piles of rocks jutted up, creating lookouts.
"Ava, stop. Come back here. You can't get that close; this is a crime scene." Colt was chasing after me. Eleanor shrugged and decided she might as well join us.
Sheriff Knoxx scowled at me, then Colt. "I thought I told you to keep them away. I don't want Eleanor seeing this."
"I tried. Eleanor's your fiancée, if she doesn't listen to you, she's not gonna listen to me."
I stared at the body. Eleanor looked, looked away, looked back. The clothes were wet; he'd clearly been dragged from the water recently.
"Wow, he really does look just like you," I muttered. "It's uncanny." I bent down for a closer look. Eleanor finally had enough, though. She stepped away, toward the water, and looked out over the sea.
"Wait a second," I said. "The face. His nose." I reached out one hand and Colt pushed it away.
"Ava! Don't touch the body." I was clearly frustrating Colt. It had been two days since we'd seen each other and what I really wanted was to get him alone. To hold him and kiss him and tell him how good he looked, his light brown hair shining like dark gold under the sun.
"Sorry," I said. "But his nose. What's wrong with his nose?"
Lincoln was wearing gloves. He leaned over the body with something that looked like a giant pair of tweezers and pulled on it. Sheriff Knoxx's large, Redknapp nose peeled back just under the left nostril, exposing a much smaller Grecian nose beneath it.
"It's a fake!" I exclaimed.
"A very good fake," said Lincoln, examining it closer. "Good catch. I suspect that once we get him back to the hospital and Dr. Wallace starts digging around, we'll find that the rest of him is just as fake."
"What does it mean?" I asked.
Eleanor had crept closer. Now that she had visual confirmation that the man before us was different from Sheriff Knoxx in crucial ways, she seemed a lot calmer.
"Not sure yet," Colt said, "but the man who attacked Tazzie Singer was also dressed in some sort of disguise. She said he looked a lot like Dr. Wallace, except with glasses."
"Dr. Wallace?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes, but it wasn't him," Lincoln quickly said. "He was at the hospital. We already checked."
"Could it just be a coincidence?" I asked.
"She swore that his glasses were fake and was pretty sure that his nose was, too."
"You think this is the same man, just in a different disguise?"
Lincoln looked out over the sea. "It's too early to say." When he looked back, his mouth was set in a thin, hard line. "Look, the two of you really shouldn't be here. Why don't you go by Cakes and Creations? I'm sure Felicity would love to say hi."
Eleanor and I exchanged a look. I could tell she wanted to get out of here. Even though she knew it wasn't Sheriff Knoxx, it was still too unsettling for her.
"All right," I reluctantly agreed and we headed back toward the car. Sheriff Knoxx agreed to drop us off, but it wasn't a far walk and I thought Eleanor could use the air. She was normally the most composed person I knew. Ever since the wedding planning had started, she'd seemed a lot more frazzled.
I glanced to our left as a wave crashed down on the shore. There was someone there, watching us amongst the jagged pile of rocks that climbed toward the sky. They were dressed head to toe in black, not an ounce of skin exposed even though they were at a beach.
"Eleanor, do you see that?"
"What?"
"That person." I was already walking toward them. They saw me coming and disappeared behind a large boulder. I saw their foot poke out as they began climbing. It wasn't a cliff exactly, just a tall pile of rocks that had sort of fused together over the years.
"Ava!" Eleanor called after me, but I pretended I didn't hear. Who was this person and why were they watching us? There was something nefarious about a person dressed all in black while at a beach.
I reached up and grabbed hold of the first rock, bracing myself for the climb. It wasn't an easy one but it wasn't exactly like climbing Mount Everest. My foot found a nice series of groves and I made my way to the center of the pile, where I could hear stones scattering over the ground.
"Ava!" Eleanor was shouting my name, running after me.
The figure in black was just ahead of me. I could hear them even though I couldn't see them. My foot slipped out from under me. I barely caught myself as I fell face first toward a razor-sharp stone. I brushed myself off and stood up. I was at the edge of the rock pile, about fifty feet up.
I looked down, a mistake. My head got dizzy. It was almost a straight shot into the ocean. From this height, though, I wasn't sure you could make it. There were more rocks down there, hiding beneath the water. If I was lucky, I might miss the water and land on a patch of sand instead, breaking my bones instead of drowning.
I heard a noise and turned too late. A pair of hands jolted out of nowhere. They pushed hard against my chest and I felt myself careen over the side.
"Aaaahhh!"
The black masked face looked down at me as I caught hold of a rock that was jutting out horizontally. My hands slipped and my feet dangled in the air beneath me. For a second, I thought he might help, then the mask disappeared.
I searched frantically for a foothold but found nothing. There were voices now, running, yelling. Colt was there. He reached over the side with his COMHA-issued super-wand just as I fell. A bolt of blue shot out and wrapped around my waist like a rope. It didn't stop me from falling, but it made me fall slower. I missed the water, landing on the ground like a dancer on a cloud.
Eleanor pulled me into a hug. "You could have been killed!"
"Did you see him? Did you get him?" I was looking frantically around the beach. Except for our small group, it was empty.
"See who?" Eleanor asked.
"The man in black. He pushed me off the rock."
"Ava," Eleanor said, looking at Sheriff Knoxx and Lincoln. "You fell off the rock. I saw you."
"No, I was pushed."
Colt was back down now. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my cheek. "Let me take you home. You need to rest."
"I don't need to rest," I snapped. "I need to find whoever just tried to kill me because I'm betting it was the same person who killed the sheriff's lookalike over there."
I could tell by the blank faces that they had not seen what I had seen.
"Doesn't anyone believe me?" I asked.
The resounding silence said it all. No.
* * *
0 3
* * *
Tazzie Singer's office was just like I remembered. I didn't
think she'd changed a thing since Mayor Singer had died at the hands of Margaret Binford. Unlike Sweetland's own Mayor Thomas, Mayor Singer had been much beloved by the people of Mistmoor.
"Hello, Ava," she said, greeting me warmly.
I hadn't told anyone where I was going today. Eleanor and Colt had spent the night trying to convince me that I had imagined the whole thing on the rocks—the man in black had been a sun spot, the push had been the wind. It was ridiculous, and it was making me mad. I needed to get away, to figure things out for myself.
My father, at least, had expressed doubt that I'd simply imagined the whole thing, but Sheriff Knoxx reminded him that it had been a high-tension situation. The dead body on the beach, the possible assassin lurking around Mistmoor. The problem was that no one besides me had seen the man in black, if it was a man at all. I couldn't be sure.
"Hi, Mrs. Singer," I said.
"Oh, Ava, call me Tazzie." She shook my hand graciously.
I smiled. Tazzie was a warm, likable woman. Her gray hair was slightly frizzy at the ends and she had a tendency to smile when she really wanted to frown, but those were just some of the reasons I liked her. The people of Mistmoor Point had really supported her after Herbert died. They'd asked her to step in as acting mayor, and as far as the town was concerned, she'd done an excellent job. Which is why it was so surprising that she wasn't farther ahead in the polls.
Mayor Singer had a loud, boisterous personality when he was alive. His office reflected that. There were bright paintings on the walls and a giant clock made to look like the one in Madison Square Garden. Two oversized chairs sat opposite his desk. Tazzie offered me a seat in one.
"What can I do for you, Ava?"
There was a light knock on the door and Hadley Miner's head poked in. Her brown hair was cut into a loose, wavy bob that reflected her bright personality. She was closer to my age than Tazzie's, though I suspected she was still a good ten years older than me even if she didn't look it. She had been Mayor Singer's right-hand woman when he was alive, a secretary for the ages. When Tazzie took over as acting mayor, she'd done her job with the same grace and dignity she always had. Tazzie adored her.