“Ed is the Spellbound building inspector,” Astrid said. “This is his ladder. It's designed for his hooves. No, the marks look to me like someone tampered with it before he used it.”
My eyes widened. “You don't think this was an accident?”
Astrid ran her fingers along the broken piece of ladder. “No. In fact, the more I look at this, the more I'm convinced that this was murder.”
A murder in Markos's new corporate headquarters? The minotaur was not going to be happy about this.
“Was Ed only here today?” I asked.
“I'm not sure,” Astrid said. “These are questions I'm going to have for Markos. I assume your date is over now.” She gave me a pointed look.
“It's not a date,” I said. “Just a friendly outing.”
Astrid suppressed a smile. “Whatever you say.”
Markos appeared from the kitchen. “I sent Milo home, if that's okay. I figured if you need him, you know where to find him.”
Astrid nodded. “It's fine. I have questions for you, if you have a few minutes.”
I looked uneasily at Markos.
“I have all the time you need,” Markos said. “Why don’t we sit in the kitchen where it’s more comfortable?”
“To be fair, everywhere in your office looks comfortable,” Astrid said.
“Thank you,” he replied. “That was one of the goals.”
We returned to the kitchen and Markos and I sat across from Astrid.
“How well did you know Ed?” Astrid asked.
“Fairly well. Ed has inspected all of my designs,” Markos said. “I’ve known him for years.”
“And did you get along?”
“Mostly,” he said.
“What was his schedule today? Do you know when he arrived?”
“I saw him this afternoon.” Markos scratched his chin thoughtfully. “He was here yesterday evening as well.”
“Does it typically take more than a day for an inspection?” Astrid asked.
Markos shrugged. “It does for my buildings. They’re not your standard designs.”
“True.” Astrid drummed her fingers on the table. “Who else was here when Ed was here?”
“I’ll need to check the log,” Markos said. “Can I get it to you tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Anything else?” Markos asked. “I should probably escort Emma home.”
“No, that’s good enough for now. Thanks.” Astrid scraped back her chair and stood. “Any chance you could drop me off at the station? I caught a ride here with the transport team.”
“No problem,” Markos replied.
“I’d love to see the rest of the building another time,” I said, glancing around as we left. “It’s amazing.”
Markos brightened. “I’d love to show it to you. We’ll arrange another…outing.”
As much as I told myself it was the opportunity to make a new friend, deep down I knew my intentions were less pure. Markos was a welcome distraction from Daniel’s engagement. He seemed to know it, too, but was too kind to mention it.
I sighed. He almost seemed too good to be true.
I didn't love the idea of therapy. It wasn't easy to trust someone with your innermost secrets. I was already regretting that Daniel knew the secret about my origin, especially now that he was engaged to Elsa Knightsbridge. While I still trusted Daniel, the trust did not come as easily as it once had. I remained baffled by his sudden change of heart. Never mind the fact that I was in love with him. Even without that pesky minor detail, I would still be scratching my head over his recent life-changing decision.
The waiting room was minimal. A single couch. A coffee table. A magazine rack with outdated publications. Not even a receptionist. I only knew that I wasn't alone in the office because I heard voices behind the closed door. They were muffled so I couldn’t actually understand what was being said. Probably a good thing considering this was a therapist’s office and all conversations were, or should be, private.
The door finally opened and a woman called to me from inside the room. “Is that you, Emma Hart? Come on in.”
I was surprised to enter and discover that my therapist was the only one there.
“Miss Hall? I heard voices,” I said. “I thought you were in a session with a client.”
Catherine Hall smiled. “Oh, there was. You exit via a different door. That preserves the identity of my clients should they desire it.”
“Good to know.” I took in the room’s decor. It was not at all what I was expecting. There was a chaise lounge and a chair, but there was also a bar with two stools and music playing in the background. Not relaxing music, though. More like alternative rock. It was low enough to allow us to talk and be heard, but loud enough to make you want to move your feet to the beat.
“But it’s Dr. Hall or just plain Catherine, if you prefer. I didn’t suffer through years at Vampire University to be called Miss.”
“Of course not. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
Catherine moved behind the bar and poured herself a drink. “What's your poison?” She waved me off. “Wait, let me guess.” She proceeded to assess me. “I'm going to go with something tooth-achingly sweet. Lord of Darkness, please don’t say barberry-tini or we may have to part company here and now.”
“To be honest, I haven't sampled enough drinks here to have a favorite yet.” I hesitated. “Are you sure that drinking during a session is a good idea?”
Catherine began to prepare me a drink with the expert precision of a bartender. “I find it helps relax my client.”
“Then why do you have a drink, too?” I asked, eyeing the mug of ale on the counter.
“Sweetheart, nobody likes to drink alone.”
“What's that you're drinking?” I asked. The ale looked frothy and refreshing.
Catherine took a generous sip. “This is one of my favorites. It's called Nasty Woman.”
“Maybe I'll try that next time.” If there was a next time.
Catherine gestured for me to sit. “Anywhere you like. If you prefer the chair, I'm happy to take the lounger.”
I took the chair. “And what about the music? Do we need to turn that off?”
Catherine scrutinized me. “You don't like music? What's wrong with you?” She tilted her head back and laughed. “I guess I’ll figure that out soon enough.”
I was taken aback. “I didn't say I don't like music. I was just wondering whether it was appropriate to have it on during our session.”
Catherine clapped her hands. “Music off.”
The background fell silent. She gave me a look that said happy now? She handed me a glass with a deep purple liquid.
“Is this a barberry-tini?” I asked.
“Hell no. I fixed you a Bitter Pill. Now go ahead and swallow it.”
That sounded…challenging.
“So what brings you here?” she asked. “You must have something on your mind.” Catherine joined me, seating herself on the chaise lounge.
“My assistant at work suggested I might want to speak to someone. I have a lot of stress in my life right now.”
“You mean because that angelic bastard Daniel Starr is engaged to Elsa, the magical bitch fairy?”
I stiffened. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Catherine gave me a sympathetic smile. “Honey, please. You are a walking, talking ball of emotion. Your love for him is written all over you. Like the plague. A love plague. Why do you think I’m sitting over here? Wouldn’t want to catch it.”
I didn't think that was true. In fact, I did my very best to keep my feelings to myself because I didn't want to burden others with the knowledge and make them uncomfortable.
I narrowed my eyes. “Who told you?”
Catherine sighed loudly. “Okay, fine. I heard it secondhand from someone in town. But the question clearly irritated you, so I have to assume it's true.”
I glanced away, unwilling to meet her gaze. “Yes, it's true. But t
hat isn't why I'm here. There's nothing I can do about Daniel. He’s made his choice.”
“People don't come to therapy because they intend to do anything,” she said. “Sometimes it just helps to talk about how you’re feeling. Even if that means you’re feeling horrible because there’s nothing you can do about a situation. Take Spellbound. You’ve been trapped here against your will, just like the rest of us. How does that make you feel?”
“It depends,” I said. “Some days are better than others. I’m happy to have met so many wonderful friends. I didn't have relationships like this in the human world.”
“Good grief, Pollyanna. Is this shtick for real?”
I stared at her. “There’s no shtick.”
“So you really feel blessed to be here because you were shunned in the human world?”
“Not shunned…”
“I find it hard to believe a pretty girl like you had no friends. I mean, I didn’t have many friends in the human world because I couldn’t seem to stop eating them, but that’s a different story.”
I inched my chair away from her as imperceptibly as I could. “I wasn't a pariah or anything. I just tended to keep to myself. I'd been hurt a lot and I felt it was best not to get close to people.”
“Because you were afraid they would leave you like your parents did?”
I bristled. “Technically, they didn’t leave me. They died.”
“And no departure is more permanent.”
Unless you were a Scottish vampire.
Catherine swilled her ale. “So is that what you’re hung up on? Your parents’ death?”
I folded my hands in my lap. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“No? Okay then. You don’t want to talk about your unrequited love for Daniel or your parents’ death. What do you want to talk about?”
I glanced around the room, uncertain. “How about the weather? Why is it always perfect here yet plants and flowers manage to grow?”
“The spell, honey. Next question.”
“Did you attend my special ceremony?” I asked.
“You want to talk about your nervous stomach?” She blew a raspberry. “Boring. Next topic.”
“I wasn’t aware that my topics of conversation needed to interest you.”
“Well, it certainly helps.” She eyed my half empty glass. “How’s your drink?”
“Not bad, actually.”
“New favorite?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
She set her empty mug on the coffee table. “How do you like living with a vampire ghost? He’s a real pain in the ass, isn’t he?”
“Did you know Gareth?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m a vampire in Spellbound. Of course I knew Gareth.”
“He suggested I make an appointment with Thalia,” I said, referring to the therapist in the office across the hall.
Catherine snorted. “I’ll bet. Why didn’t you?”
“I think you know why.”
“Because she’s booked from now until Hades comes, but my schedule has immediate availability. Is that right?”
I decided to be honest. “Pretty much.”
“That’s because she’s so nice. It’s nauseating. People think her niceness helps them, but it really doesn’t.”
“No?”
“Of course not. Clients need raw, unfiltered honesty. Not drivel.” She stood to refill her mug. “The reason she’s so booked up is because her clients have been going to her for years. Eventually, they shouldn’t need her anymore. She should have room for fresh blood.” She sighed dreamily. “Fresh blood.”
“You advocate the tough love approach?” I queried.
“Maybe.” She paused. “That was your grandmother, I take it?”
“What was?”
“Tough love.”
I stared at a fixed point on the wall. “Maybe.”
She poured another glass of ale. “Not to worry, Emma. I think you and I will get along swimmingly.”
I gulped. I was glad one of us was confident because I sure wasn’t.
“Let’s talk about your grandmother,” she said.
So we did.
Chapter 4
I met Astrid outside Ed Doyle’s beige ranch-style house. As the new deputy, her sister was supposed to join her, but Britta was apparently hung over from a night out with werewolves and unable to make her legs work properly.
“Thanks for coming,” Astrid said. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t want to see Markos have any trouble. He’s really excited about his new office.”
“Agreed. The sooner we can wrap this up, the better.”
Astrid picked the lock on the door with a magical pin and opened the door. “Ed was a decent guy. I ran into him around town now and again. Fairly serious, but I never heard him say a bad word about anybody.”
The inside of the house was as plain as the outside. White walls. Nondescript carpet. There was no personality injected into the decor whatsoever.
We split up—Astrid took the bedroom and I took the living room. There was nothing out of place. No evidence that anyone had come looking for an item. A single shelf hung on the wall, covered in what appeared to be bowling trophies. There were several books on the end table next to the couch. I thumbed through them to see if they belonged to the library. The stickler in me wanted to make sure they were returned in a timely manner. On the whole, it seemed like a very typical bachelor pad. Slightly messy and no personal effects such as framed photos or tokens of affection.
Astrid emerged from the bedroom. “Anything in here? The bedroom is dullsville. Poor guy. Not much of a personal life.”
“Nothing sticks out in here,” I said. “He seems to like crossword puzzles.” I’d noticed those on the table next to the recliner. I suspected that was where Ed spent many hours of his leisure time.
“There doesn't seem to be any old girlfriends or boyfriends to question,” Astrid said.
“I guess that explains the dull bedroom,” I said. “Nothing noteworthy in the closet?” In my experience, the contents of a closet could tell you a lot about a person. It was how I discovered Gareth’s well-kept secret. At least it wasn't a well-kept secret anymore.
“It's too bad you can't see everyone's ghosts,” Astrid said. “I mean you’re handy enough as it is, but imagine the possibilities.”
I laughed. “Then I think the council would have to find a new public defender. I'd be too busy communing with the other side.”
“That could be your own business,” Astrid said. “You'd be like Kassandra except without the funky style.”
“I don't know,” I said. “Kassandra’s abilities are more limited than mine, at least in terms of Gareth. She needed to channel him through something. She couldn't see him easily the way I can.”
Astrid tilted her head. “Why do you think that is?”
I quickly realized that I’d said too much. I didn't want my friends questioning the extent of my abilities to the point that they realized I was more than a coven witch. They seemed to like Emma the Witch, but who knew how they would feel about Emma the Sorceress. Based on the town's history with the enchantress, I didn't think it would go over very well.
“I'll check the bathroom. You check the kitchen,” Astrid said. “I'm glad he didn't have any pets. That's the worst when you walk in the house and realize that no one’s taking care of the animal.”
Like Magpie. If I hadn't turned up at Gareth’s house, I had no idea what would have become of Magpie. That being said, he was a feisty cat with no intention of becoming a victim of circumstance. Heck, Magpie refused to lose a battle with a floating feather. He certainly wouldn't have given up on life if I hadn't moved in.
I opened kitchen cabinets and drawers searching for any scrap of useful information. He certainly had a lot of tools, which made sense for a building inspector. He also kept a stack of notebooks on a desk in the kitchen. I rifled through them and
realized that they were notes from previous jobs. I started with the most recent entries to see if he'd made any significant notes. We could cross-reference his notebooks with the reports he filed at the office.
“The only information I learned in the bathroom is that Ed is a typical bachelor,” Astrid said. “Or was.”
“Not much of a cleaner, huh?” I asked, still reviewing one of the notebooks.
Astrid joined me at the small desk. “What are these?”
“His own notes on previous jobs. Maybe we'll come across a disgruntled building owner.”
“Here's something interesting,” Astrid said. “He seems to have had a disagreement with George recently.”
“The Yeti?”
“Yeah. I wonder if he reported this to the office.”
“Easy enough to check.”
“Either way, it’ll be a good excuse to grab an ice cream cone,” she said.
I shot her a look of surprise. “Who needs an excuse for ice cream?”
After confirming the notes in the town’s administrative office, Astrid and I headed over to Icebergs to speak with George. I’d never met a Yeti before and was curious to see what he looked like.
“So does George keep a human form like Markos and the harpies?” I asked.
Astrid squinted at me. “No, why would he do a thing like that?”
I shrugged. “I don't know. Why do the harpies? Why does Markos?”
“Have you seen the harpies in their native forms? We should be thankful they walk around most of the time as humans.”
“What about Markos? Have you ever seen him in his minotaur form?” I wondered whether he was as intimidating as I imagined.
“If you’re wondering whether you'd want to date him in his minotaur form, I suspect the answer is no.”
“I don't want to date him in his human form either,” I insisted.
“Then you should really cut bait because he is definitely interested,” Astrid said. “My sister won't shut up about it. She accuses you of hoarding eligible bachelors.”
I couldn't help but laugh. I was the girl who never had a date in high school. I had more unrequited crushes than I could count on both hands. That any woman should be jealous of me seemed patently absurd.
Better Than Hex (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 3