An Artistic Homicide (Lainswich Witches Book 11)

by Raven Snow

  Poor Peony hadn’t really had any choice in coming to this thing. She still lived in the Greensmith house, so it would have been awkward if she had holed up in her room. She managed a smile when her name was called, but it faded as soon as attention was called away from her. She didn’t look at all happy to be there.

  Lydia went up to the twin Rowen had to assume was Reginald and took him by the hand. It was unclear how she could tell who was whom. Maybe the brothers let off different energy signatures she could pick up on or something. “I just finished making dinner. Come on before it gets cold.” She led him toward the dining room,

  Everyone followed. Dinner did smell delicious. Aunt Lydia had made roast chicken with a slew of sides to choose from. Rowen didn’t typically get the chance to cook. Neither she nor Eric were the best chefs anyway. Sometimes it was nice to go home for a proper home cooked dinner. She didn’t even mind putting the questioning aside for a bit while they ate. It was probably for the best not to lead with the second degree anyway. Better to get to know everyone a little better first. Nathan kicked off that part for her.

  “So, Peony, I hear you’re quite the artist,” Nathan prompted.

  Peony looked up from her plate, startled. It took her a moment to realize she had even been asked a question of sorts. “I’m all right,” she said with a small shrug. “I’m not fantastic or anything.”

  “She’s fantastic,” said Lydia.

  Nadine nodded. “I agree. I might be a bit biased, though.”

  Peony shrugged again. “I’m still learning.”

  Nathan nodded at Peony like he totally understood. “Aren’t we all? I’d love to see some of your work. Do you have any here?”

  Peony sat up a little straighter, like she hadn’t expected that question. “I, ah… I don’t have anything that’s finished handy.”

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing something unfinished. If you don’t mind, of course.”

  “Maybe after dinner.” Peony said like she hoped Nathan would forget by then. Rowen could tell that she just wanted to be left alone tonight. Art was a touchy subject with her right now.

  Nathan turned his gaze to Rowen. “Peony and I aren’t the only artists here, though, are we? Reporting the news is a kind of art too, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Rowen. She was starting to think Nathan was one of those weird artistic types that just spouted things that sounded deep.

  “It’s journalism,” Rose corrected.

  “And isn’t that a kind of art?”

  “No. It’s journalism.”

  Rowen tried not to laugh. Rose could have strong opinions about her job sometimes. For something she had fallen into purely by happenstance, she sure took it seriously. “The photography part might be kind of artsy,” Rowen said, trying to make things a bit less awkward. “But that’s mostly Peony and her sister. Rose and I are just boring, old… non-artists.”

  “Hardly boring,” said Philip. Rowen knew which one he was only because he was sitting beside Nadine.

  Reginald nodded in agreement. “Truly, this family is the most exciting thing we’ve yet to find in this town.”

  “Really?” Rowen asked. “The murder wasn’t a tad more exciting?” Everyone looked at her with mixed expressions after those words left her mouth. She picked up her glass of wine. “Sorry,” she mumbled into it.

  “I’m not sure how exciting we are,” said Lydia, changing the subject and quite clearly fishing for compliments.

  Reginald turned to her. “A family of hereditary witches. True witches. It’s just fascinating. I’ve never met a family quite like you before.”

  Nathan choked on a bite of chicken as his uncle spoke. “Apologies,” he said quietly.

  Rowen looked at Nathan. It was easy to tell what he was thinking. She could read that expression of his. She had seen it many times before. “You don’t believe in witches, do you?”

  Nathan looked around the table. All eyes were on him. He forced a laugh to try and play off the attention. “I can’t say I’m as interested in the occult as my uncles are.”

  “You don’t believe in magic, though. Right?” Rowen could just tell with people like him. She didn’t judge him for it. She imagined most people who hadn’t grown up in Lainswich didn’t believe in magic.

  “I…” Nathan took another look around the table. Again, he laughed. “Wow, you really put me on the spot.”

  “It’s okay,” Rowen said quickly. “I can give you a demonstration later tonight, if you want. If there’s one thing us Greensmiths are good at, it’s converting nonbelievers.”

  “Oooh, a demonstration.” Philip looked intrigued.

  “A private demonstration,” Rowen corrected. “I don’t want to embarrass the poor man.”

  Nathan still looked pretty bewildered by all of this. He rolled with it anyway. “I appreciate the discretion.”

  “Of course.” In truth, Rowen wasn’t trying to do him any favors. Demonstrating some magic felt like a good way to get him alone for some one on one questioning. It was ideal, in fact. This way she could really poke around in his mind. If he knew anything useful, she was about to get it out of him.

  ***

  After dinner, everyone headed to the den. Rowen brought up the rear with Nathan. “Do you want to step out back?” she asked him. “I promise I won’t take up too much of your time.”

  “Lead the way.” There was a bemused look on Nathaniel’s face, like he was only humoring her with all of this.

  "We’ll rejoin you guys in a minute,” Rowen told her family as she walked past the living room with Nathan trailing behind. She caught a look from Rose as she walked. ‘Don’t screw this up,’ she seemed to be saying with her widened eyes and small nod. Rowen didn’t think she would. As far as she was concerned, things were turning out better than expected for the moment.

  “Are these herbs?” Nathan asked as they stepped out back and onto the back porch, amidst dozens of potted plants.

  “Yep. Kind of a witchy staple, I guess.” She pulled up a couple of folding chairs, sitting one across from the other. “Take a seat.”

  Nathan did as he was told, unable to wipe that smirk from his face the whole while. “So, it’s really your whole family, huh?”

  “It really is. Except for Rose since she’s adopted.” Rowen sat down across from him. “Give me your hands,” she instructed, holding out her own. Again, Nathan followed instructions. He extended his hands and Rowen clasped them. They were warm. Rowen was hit with a lot of emotions at once. She opened herself up to them. This was what it was usually like. People always had such cluttered minds. “Let’s see.” She tried to pick out the most prominent thought. “Well.” Rowen cleared her throat, the first thought being a somewhat embarrassing one. “You think I’m pretty.”

  “That’s an easy one,” said Nathan, unimpressed. “You are pretty.”

  Rowen made sure to try and shoot him a dirty look before continuing. “Let’s see.” She poked around for something a bit more obscure. “You don’t like it here. You miss the city… You have an apartment. It’s big.”

  “How did you guess?” Nathan asked with faux surprise.

  “You miss your cat, too. His name is Teddy. You’re worried the friend you have housesitting will forget to feed him.”

  Now that seemed to catch Nathan by surprise. His brow furrowed. He sat up a little straighter, the hands placed in Rowen’s going stiff. Rowen tried very hard not to smile. This was always her favorite part, when a staunch skeptic was forced to confront their own beliefs. Now she just needed to poke around in the stuff relevant to the case before he got spooked or convinced she was spying on him.

  “You weren’t even entertaining the thought of coming here until Dayveed died. You think more people are going to flock to the gallery showing because of his death. That will really bring attention to your art. You don’t need the money. You want people to look past the fact that you won the genetic lottery. You want people to be impressed by your skil
l. You don’t want to turn out like your uncles; bored, wealthy bachelors traveling wherever their whims take them… I don’t know. That sounds okay to me.”

  Nathan was frowning now. He thought she was a very skilled con-woman, that she was reading him and spinning it in a way where it had to be true. “Anything else?” he asked. He wanted to go back inside.

  “What do you think happened to Dayveed?” asked Rowen. “Don’t say it out loud,” she added quickly. “Just think it.”

  Nathan sighed but did just that. His thoughts turned to Dayveed. It became clear that he really didn’t know more than most what had happened to the man. He did, however, have a unique theory that Rowen hadn’t considered.

  “Hm. You think he killed himself. Why do you think that?”

  At first, Nathan didn’t say anything. Apparently, Rowen had startled him with the truth again. “It’s just… I hadn’t heard much of the guy until now. Suddenly his death is a mystery and his work is highly sought after. That pentagram, especially, adds a whole new dimension to things. Maybe he died for his craft.”

  “I can’t imagine he wanted commissioned art of Seraphina to be the height of his career.”

  Nathan shrugged. “I really couldn’t say what he was thinking. I didn’t know the guy.”

  “And how did he manage to set the scene after sustaining his injuries?”

  “Am I supposed to say the answer or think it?”

  “We’re having a conversation now. Just say it.”

  “Then, I don’t know,” Nathan admitted. “I really hadn’t given it that much thought.”

  “Fair enough.” Rowen realized she was still holding his hands. “This whole time you’ve been thinking that, if I could really see into your mind, I would know you were thinking about dolphins.” She let go of his hands. “At least, I think that’s what you were trying to do. Either that or you have a really unhealthy fixation on dolphins.”

  “How-”

  “I’m a witch remember?”

  Nathan shook his head. “There’s some kind of trick to it. There has to be.”

  “There isn’t,” Rowen assured him. “But if you’re more comfortable thinking that, by all means…”

  “This is unreal.” Nathan smiled. He started laughing. Rowen hoped she hadn’t completely broken the poor guy’s perception of reality. “This is absolutely unreal. You should take this stuff on tour.”

  “No thanks. I’m happy where I am.”

  “Are you sure? You could make a fortune. You’d be famous.”

  Rowen had assumed he was kidding, but it sounded like he was serious. She realized he might still have his doubts about the authenticity of her abilities. What? Did he think she was some kind of street magician? “I’m good.”

  “Suit yourself.” Nathan looked into her eyes, really stared into them like he was trying to read her thoughts. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

  The question sent goosebumps up and down Rowen’s arms. Was it her imagination or was he flirting with her? She stood. “Come on. Let’s head back inside. I told them we’d be right back.”

  Nathan followed Rowen back indoors, though he seemed reluctant about it. Rowen didn’t have to take hold of his hands again to tell that he had more questions about her now than he had started with. At least Rowen was more or less satisfied with the answers she had received. Nathan was a suspect she could cross off the list. He didn’t think much about Dayveed’s death outside of how it could benefit him. He hadn’t put someone up to the murder or somehow carried it out himself. He was as clueless about this thing as the rest of them were.

  Rowen almost instantly regretted heading back inside. Apparently, Peony had escaped back to her room. Rose wasn’t there, and their Uncle Norman still hadn’t shown his face yet. That left only her aunts and the twins alone together. When Rowen got to the den, both pairs were very much attached at the mouth. Without a word, Rowen turned right around and headed back into the hallway. Nathan did the same.

  “Okay then,” Rowen said, taking a deep breath as they walked away. “That sure was something.”

  “They really are into the occult,” said Nathan. “A couple of ‘real’ witches? This is like a dream come true for them.”

  Rowen didn’t really care for the way he said witches like he was making verbal air quotes around it. She didn’t say anything about that as she soon happened upon Rose in the dining room. She had her phone to her ear and it sounded like she was finishing up a call.

  “That sounds great…. Right… Definitely. We’ll see you then.” Rose hung up. She jumped slightly when she turned and saw Rowen and Nathan. “Oh, you two finished already?”

  Rowen nodded. “Yeah. Couldn’t rejoin everyone in the den just yet. They’re all, uh, occupied.”

  “Occupied?” Rose repeated.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Rowen pointed to the phone. “Who was that.”

  “Karen Hucklebee. She says we can talk to her during the reopening of the art gallery tomorrow. She didn’t sound very sure about it. I know she doesn’t like us much, but I think the opportunity to share her artwork with a wider audience is just too tempting. She wants the attention.”

  “That’s the goal, isn’t it?” asked Nathan. He didn’t wait for an answer. The question seemed to be a rhetorical one. “You always want your art to be noticed… Speaking of which, where is that sister of yours?”

  “Sister?” Rowen stared at him, puzzled, until she realized what he meant. “Oh, you mean Peony. She’s our cousin. She’s probably not in the best of moods to share her artwork. It sounds like there’s a good possibility that they’ll be taking her art down at the show. I think that’s part of making room for you, in fact.”

  “I see.” Nathan raised his eyebrows. “Well, I can see why she might have a problem with that.” He didn’t make any offer to back out of having his art featured for her sake— not that Rowen had really expected him to. “Though, if she ever changes her mind, I’d love to see it. Sounds like she’s got some interesting life experience to draw from. Between the murder mysteries and the magic, I get the feeling that you Greensmiths are an exciting bunch.”

  “I can’t argue with you there,” Rowen agreed. Usually, they were a little too exciting.

  Chapter Nine

  The art show did indeed open up the following night. “You’re sure you don’t want to go?” Rowen asked her husband as she came into the living room for help with her dress.

  Eric had a bunch of photos and paperwork spread out across the coffee table in front of him. He was chewing on the end of his pen as he stared at his laptop screen. “Do you need me to go?” he asked, looking up.

  “I guess not.” Rowen had already told him as much. She had hoped he would come anyway, which was probably a little unfair. He had a lot of work he had to do on his own. She hadn’t had time to help him since this whole Dayveed thing had gone down. She’d been too busy with the Inquirer. She just wanted him to come because she missed him. Seriously, how long could one guy hold a grudge? “Will you zip me up?” She spun so that her back was to him.

  Eric zipped her up and went right back to his laptop. “Drive safe,” he said.

  “I don’t have to head out the door for another ten minutes.” It wasn’t like it would hurt for her to leave ten minutes early, but she still plopped down on the sofa beside him rather than leaving. “How’s the investigation going?”

  “It’s going. I think I’ve pretty much got all the evidence my client needs.” Eric slipped a stack of photographs into a manila folder. “How’s your investigation going?”

  “Oh, you know… The same.” Rowen fidgeted where she sat, tapping her foot in time with the rhythmic tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall. “Are you mad at me?” she finally blurted. She couldn’t help it. She had to ask or it was going to drive her completely insane.

  Eric looked up from his laptop. “No,” he said, turning to his wife. “I’m just… frustrated, I guess.”

  “Still
?”

  “What do you mean still?” Eric gave a humorless laugh. “Look, I’m not mad at you, but I’m not going to totally forgive you yet. Those are two way different things. I’m allowed to not like it when something you do sucks. I mean, I thought we’d talked about this before. When you’re about to do something reckless, I’d appreciate a little warning so that I could at least come with you.”

  “You would have tried to stop me, though.”

  “Heck yes, I would have.” Eric leaned in and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Babe, but you can do some really stupid things sometimes.”

  “I should get going.” Rowen stood up, not sure if their little talk had made her feel better or worse. She was leaning towards slightly worse. There were a lot of differences between them and it kind of hurt when they shined.

  ***

  The gallery was already packed when Rowen got there. It wasn’t open quite yet, but people were already lined up outside. That was definitely something of a surprise, though it shouldn’t have been. After Dayveed’s death, word of mouth had really gotten around. She had to drive further down the road and parallel park on the street in order to find a space. She called Rose as soon as she cut the engine, hoping she wasn’t frustrating two people tonight.

  “Where have you been?” Rose asked as soon as she answered the phone. Fortunately, she didn’t sound angry. She sounded more relieved than anything.

  Rowen apologized anyway. “Sorry. I didn’t realize that the place was going to be so packed or I would have left earlier.”

  “Well hurry and come on. We need to get the interview with Karen and her family out of the way before they start letting people in. She’s getting impatient.”

  “All right, all right. I’m coming.” Rowen hung up and got out of the car. She nearly bowled someone right over in the process. “Whoa!”

  “Sorry! Excuse me!” The voice was instantly familiar. It was Peony. She was holding something rectangular in her arms. They had both been in such a rush it seemed they hadn’t seen each other.