by Zoe Arden
"What were you doing at Whisper Crossing at midnight?"
"My car broke down on my way back from dropping off Tazzie Singer. It overheated, and I had to let it cool off." My heart began to quicken its pace. "Why?" I asked again. Something was wrong.
He cleared his throat. Eleanor's eyes were burning into him. "Grayson Redfern was attacked outside his home. Someone tried to shoot him with an enchanted gun."
"Shoot him?! Is he okay?" I asked.
"Yes, he's fine. They missed. Lucky for him they did. Otherwise, he'd either be dead or a donkey right now. Or maybe both."
My dad and Elanor exchange a look.
"Lincoln's ballistics guys are still working it out. Seems as though the bullets may have been meant to transform rather than kill. Anyway, the reason I'm here is because..." He gulped. "It's just that... Ava, he claims his attacker was you."
I blinked. "I'm sorry, did you say me? As in... me?"
Sheriff Knoxx nodded. "I'm sorry, but I have to look around a little."
Eleanor pounced on him. "Is this a sick joke?" she demanded. "You think you can come in here and just accuse my niece of... of attacking someone?"
"Eleanor," Sheriff Knoxx said quietly, blushing, "I don't really think Ava did anything, of course not, but it's my job to check things out. Lincoln called me early this morning and asked me to look into it."
"Of course he did," Eleanor snapped. "I've never liked that Lincoln Maxwell." Everyone in the room knew that wasn't true. Eleanor had always been fond of Lincoln and Felicity. They were two of only a few Mistmoor people we spoke to on a regular basis.
Sheriff Knoxx turned and exhaled a long breath. The assassin's list that was sitting on the table fluttered to the floor. He picked it up. "What's this?"
I blanched. "Sheriff Knoxx, I was going to tell you about that this morning. I actually tried to call you last night and tell you then but never got an answer. Someone left this on my windshield last night."
His eyes had clouded. He seemed upset. "They left this on your car?"
"Yes."
"Why would they do that?"
"I don't know. It's the same list as before, only the prices are different."
"And Hadley Miner is on here now, too," he said, his face ragged.
"Right. My dad was just telling me that she's running in the new election in two weeks."
Otis Winken came into the room just then. I hadn't even realized that he was here. "Sheriff, Tadpole found something I think is important. He sniffed it out. I told you he's got a good nose. We should make him an honorary deputy." Otis sounded immensely proud of his familiar.
Sheriff Knoxx rolled his eyes.
"You want to come see it, Sheriff Knoxx, sir? It's in the car in the garage."
"What is it, Otis?" Sheriff Knoxx asked, letting out a heavy sigh.
"It's a gun. I found it, I mean Tadpole found it, in the trunk of Miss Eleanor's car."
"You found a gun in Eleanor's car?" I murmured, my throat dry. Otis nodded. Every eye was on me. I was the last person to use Eleanor's car. If there was a gun in there... I just hoped it wasn't the same gun that had been used with Grayson.
* * *
1 7
* * *
Sheriff Knoxx's station was small. I remember taking a tour once of a police station in New York City on a third-grade field trip and thinking that the station was like its own city. It was just that big. In Sweetland Cove, though, we had a few cells, a few desks, and not much more. There were two interrogation rooms but they were mostly filled with coats and extra uniforms—another closet space as opposed to a place to question hardened criminals.
Sheriff Knoxx had actually cleared out one of the rooms and asked me to sit in it so he could talk to me alone, but Eleanor, Trixie, my father, and even Colt had all insisted on staying with me. Sheriff Knoxx had called Colt before coming over to our house, as a courtesy, to let him know about the allegations Grayson had made against me.
Colt was furious, though not quite as furious as Eleanor. She stomped around the room, glaring at Sheriff Knoxx. When he'd tried to convince her to leave me alone in the interrogation room, she'd thrown a stapler at him.
So, now I was sitting at the sheriff's desk, while my boyfriend and family gathered around me. They circled me like protective vultures, Sheriff Knoxx the prey they had their eyes on. He cleared his throat before speaking, feeling the weight of all those eyes on him as he did so. I almost felt bad for him—almost. The fact that he'd dragged me down prevented me from feeling true sympathy for him. He was clearly uncomfortable. I knew he was just doing his job, the thing was... I didn't care. He continued to proclaim to Eleanor and the others that he knew I was innocent, but it wasn't enough to stop him from holding me in a police station.
A loud squawk sounded from the back room and a pelican suddenly appeared, sprinting past Sheriff Knoxx's desk as Elmer and Otis chased after it.
"What the heck is that?" Colt asked, looking amused.
"Long story," Sheriff Knoxx said.
The pelican ran back past us. Elmer cornered it, and he and Otis managed to push it into the back once more.
"So, Ava, why don't you tell me your side of things?" Sheriff Knoxx began.
Eleanor slammed her hands on his desk. "Her SIDE? You already know HER SIDE! She's innocent!" Eleanor stared at Sheriff Knoxx until he cleared his throat again.
"Right, but according to Grayson—"
"Grayson Redfern is a beetle!" Trixie suddenly yelled. Everyone looked at her. "Well, not literally. I just mean, he's like a bug that doesn't know what's going on in the world around him."
My father was the calmest of all. He sat in a chair beside me, his hands folded together. He steepled his fingers, put them back down, then steepled them again. "Let Sheriff Knoxx ask his questions so we can hurry through this."
Sheriff Knoxx looked at my dad appreciatively but my father shot daggers at him with his eyes.
"I didn't do anything, Sheriff Knoxx," I said. I felt Colt's hand on my shoulder and drew strength from it.
"I'm sure you didn't—"
"Look," Eleanor said, grabbing the back of a chair and rattling it, "whoever attacked Grayson was probably disguised as Ava. Just like that body double of yours who washed up on shore and the man who attacked Tazzie before the first election."
"That's right," my father said. "Did Dr. Dunne or Dr. Wallace ever figure out what killed that man who resembled you?"
Sheriff Knoxx twiddled his thumbs. "It was exactly what we initially thought—a death curse."
"And did he have a fake nose? Fake chin? Fake everything?" I asked hopefully.
"As a matter of fact, yes, he did," said Sheriff Knoxx. "But he was also a man."
"So?" spat Elanor. "What are you saying? That women can't be assassins?"
"No, I'm saying that... you know what? I'm not sure what I'm saying. I need you to remain calm and stop screeching at me so that I can concentrate. It's just a few questions, Eleanor." I'd never heard Sheriff Knoxx sound so discombobulated before.
"Screeching?!" Eleanor yelled back at him. "Did you just say that I've been SCREECHING at you?"
For the sheriff's sake, I hoped that he knew enough to keep his mouth shut. His face turned pink.
"Eleanor..."
"I'LL SHOW YOU SCREECHING!"
Eleanor's face was red and pinched in the worst possible way. She looked like a cartoon devil. Any second now, I almost expected her to sprout horns.
"Aunt Eleanor?" I said, hoping to calm things down a bit. "It's really okay. Sheriff Knoxx is just doing his job. Let him ask me a few more questions and then I can go home, right?" I looked encouragingly at the sheriff.
"Well..."
"Well?" I asked, borrowing some of Eleanor's anger. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing, I just need to wait and see—"
"Sheriff Knoxx, Sheriff Knoxx!" Elmer Muster yelled, running inside. He was flapping a piece of paper in the air. "I found this in Ms. Fortune's car. It was h
idden under the spare tire in the trunk."
Poor Elmer didn't even realize that we were all glaring at him right now. Whatever it was that Elmer had, it was undoubtedly going to hurt me instead of help me.
"What is it?" asked the sheriff. Elmer handed it to him and his eyes widened. He looked up at me. "Have you ever seen this before?"
I took the slip of paper. It was a note, written in big block letters, just like the previous threats, just like the graffiti in Tazzie's bedroom. It was the assassin's calling card.
Grayson Redfern: Drop out of the election or die.
"You found this in my car?" I asked Elmer. He nodded, looking sorry. I turned back to Sheriff Knoxx. "If this was in my car, it's because someone put it there, just like the gun."
"When would someone have had the chance to do that?" he asked.
"I don't know, probably at Whisper Crossing when they stuck that note under my windshield wipers. I bet the same person popped my trunk and opened the lid. I should have searched the car before going anywhere. It just didn't occur to me that they'd plant evidence."
"Excuse me, Sheriff, Sir," Elmer interrupted, "but I think the car actually belongs to Miss Eleanor."
Sheriff Knoxx turned white. I knew what he was thinking. If it was Eleanor's car, then he might have to question her, too.
"Yes," I said quickly. I wasn't about to let anyone pin this on Aunt Eleanor. "But I'm the only one who ever uses it. It's practically my car. Isn't that right, Dad?"
My father looked at me but said nothing. He wasn't about to say anything that might hurt me. I looked behind me at Colt, who'd gotten suspiciously quiet during all of this. His face was a deep shade of purple. When he spoke again, it was with an exaggerated calm that he clearly did not feel.
"Sheriff. Knoxx." Colt took a deep breath. "I. Cannot. Abide. This. Treatment. Of. Ava." He took another deep breath and the nightshade color of his face lightened ever so slightly. "You need to charge her or let her go. That's how this works. You know that."
Sheriff Knoxx sighed. "He's right."
I felt my family give a communal sigh of relief. When Sheriff Knoxx stood up, I stood up with him, taking Colt's hand and turning to go. Sheriff Knoxx reached out to stop me.
"I thought you said I was free to go," I said.
"No. What I said was that Colt was right. I have to either charge you or let you go."
Eleanor stared at him, comprehension slowly sinking in.
"Ava Rose Fortune," said Sheriff Knoxx, very formally, "you're under arrest for the assault and attempted murder of Grayson Redfern."
* * *
1 8
* * *
I sat on a cot in the cell. The cell was about as uncomfortable as I'd imagined it would be. Cold, damp, and smelling faintly of ammonia. It reminded me of a nursing home, if nursing homes had jail cells. The cot itself was small. It claimed to be a twin-sized mattress, but I thought it was maybe three-quarters that. It seemed made for a child instead of an adult. The mattress was hard as rocks and freezing cold, which I didn't even know was possible. Mattresses were made of cotton and polyester; how could they get cold? I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself.
There was one other person in the cell beside me. A woman. She had long, curly, dark hair and was in her mid-thirties. I didn't recognize her. Since I knew most of the people in Sweetland Cove, I guessed that she was either a tourist or from Mistmoor, it was hard to tell. I tried searching her eyes for the characteristic gold flecks that every witch and wizard had. That would at least be a place to start.
She smiled. "I'm one of you. A witch. You don't have to worry."
I felt embarrassed that she'd caught me staring at her, but there was nowhere for me to hide in this cell, so I just owned up to it.
"Sorry," I said. "For staring, I mean."
"It's okay."
"I don't recognize you. Are you from Mistmoor Point?"
I was dying to know what she was in here for. The jail cells held so few people, it was rare that anyone was actually arrested for something in Sweetland Cove. Although since I'd moved here, murder and kidnapping seemed to be on the rise.
"No, I'm from the mainland. I came down here to visit a friend."
"Oh, the mainland. That's nice." I twiddled my thumbs, bored. Small talk was not always easy, especially under such strange circumstances. I was about to inquire on Florida's weather when I thought of a more slightly interesting topic. "Who's your friend?"
"Wilma Trueheart. She just opened a bakery here."
I willed my eyes not to bug out of my head. "You're friends with Wilma?"
She nodded.
"Yes. Well, we're not as close as we used to be, but still... I heard she was having a tough time making friends here and wanted to show her a little support. I even suggested she throw a welcome party. You know, invite the townsfolk and all that."
"That was your idea? I was there."
"Were you?" she asked, looking more closely at me. "Yes, I think I saw you. You were with someone... Lucy something. And the redhead."
"Lucy Lockwood. The redhead is Felicity Redfern."
She nodded as if she'd known that all along.
It hadn't seemed to me like Wilma was having a tough time with anything. Her bakery lines were still plenty long despite the strange items people were finding in her pastries. Plus, she had a boyfriend, or whatever she considered Mayor Thomas to be. She wasn't exactly alone out here.
"I'm Ava," I said. "Ava Fortune."
"Karla Louis." We leaned across the cell and shook hands. She smiled as I sat back on my cot. "You're wondering what I'm in here for."
I shrugged and blushed. "No," I lied. She looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Okay, yes, sure I am, but it's none of my business."
"It's okay, I don't mind telling you." She paused, shifted toward me from her cot, and in a very dramatic voice said, "Murder."
My eyes widened, and Karla suddenly burst into giggles.
"I'm kidding! I'm in here because I got into a fight with someone at a bar. They claimed they found a fingernail clipping mixed in with their coconut crumble in one of Wilma's crumb cakes. Can you believe that? Anyway, I threw a hex at them. Just a little one though. I turned the woman who said it into a pelican."
I suppressed a laugh. "A pelican? Not the one I saw out front last night."
"That's the one."
I tried to picture it again in my mind, putting a witch's face to the image of the bird, but came up empty. "Who was the woman?"
"Oh, her name was Lottie something or other. She's a tired old gossip. No one likes her as far as I can tell."
"Lottie Mudget?" I asked, laughing so hard that if I'd been drinking water, it would have come out my nose.
"Yeah, I think that's it. You know her?"
I nodded. "Yeah, and you’re right. She's the biggest gossip in Sweetland Cove."
Karla smiled. "They said they'd let me out of here as soon as I agreed to turn her back to normal. But I'm still mad, so I'm making her wait." She looked at me, scrutinizing me again with her eyes. "What are you in here for?"
"Attempted murder."
She laughed, but it slowly faded when she realized I was serious.
"Whose?" she breathed, looking more curious than frightened.
"Grayson Redfern." I figured there was no point in lying about it. By this time, everyone on the island must have known what happened.
"Wow. A murderer." She almost sounded in awe.
"Attempted murder," I corrected. "And I didn't do it."
"Seems like there's a lot of crime on your island. Since I've been here, one person's died and every other day it seems like someone else gets attacked."
"Yeah, well... it's not always like that," I told her.
"Hey, I'm not judging. At least the guy that actually got killed was Thaddeus Black. If anyone deserved to die, it was him." She wrinkled her nose, then saw my expression. "I know that sounds harsh, but if you knew Thaddeus well enough, you'd know I was right."
"You knew Thaddeus Black?" I asked, picking my jaw up off the floor.
"Yeah, he worked with my dad and Wilma's dad on the Council on Magic and Human Affairs a long time ago, in the curse removal department."
"Your dad was a curse remover?"
"Yeah, a darn good one, too. Not like Thaddeus."
"Wait, I thought Thaddeus was one of the best curse removers ever."
"Ha! He wished. He was always making up stories and taking credit for other people's work. He couldn't remove a curse if his life depended on it. I guess, in the end, it did."
"What do you mean?"
"Years ago, Thaddeus tried to remove a curse from this twelve-year-old boy. It backfired and landed on him instead. He refused to let my father or Wilma's help him, and he's been plagued by bad luck ever since."
"So, Wilma knew Thaddeus before she came here," I murmured. That explained why Thaddeus had hired her for his victory party.
There was a loud noise from the end of the hallway.
Eleanor's voice suddenly rang through the air.
"I want to see her, Zane. NOW!"
Karla shot me a worried look.
"Just my aunt," I told her. "She's a little mad at the sheriff right now. They're sort of engaged."
"Your aunt is engaged to Sheriff Knoxx? And he still arrested you? Ha! No wonder she's mad."
Eleanor stomped down the hall toward my cell.
"Eleanor, you can't be back here," Sheriff Knoxx pleaded with her.
"That's what you think." Eleanor paused in front of my cell. "Ava, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry."
"Eleanor, please, you need to leave." Sheriff Knoxx looked equally annoyed and frantic. He gently tried to nudge her away from my cell and back down the hallway. She yanked her arm away and glared at him.
"Don't worry," she told me, "we're working to get you out of here. You won't be here long. I promise you."
Sheriff Knoxx sighed. "This is standard procedure."
"It's standard procedure for your fiancé to arrest your niece like some common criminal? I thought we were past all that, Zane."
"We are, but—"
"You know what?" Eleanor said. "I'm tired of hearing you talk. This is your last chance. Let Ava out of here."