I parked Sigmund in the driveway and waited a moment before opening the door.
Are you sure you want to do this? Sedgwick asked, circling above.
I peered out the window. Where are you? I can't even see you.
I'm keeping a safe distance, he said. Werelions aren't opposed to eating owls.
How high do you think they can jump? They’re werelions not basketball players.
Even so, I'll be twenty feet up if you need me.
I opened the car door and walked toward the house. Before I reached the front step, I was greeted by two women. I couldn't decide which head of hair I envied more. The brunette had long, flowing locks that stretched down to her butt. Her hair was as shiny as a new copper penny. The other woman was blessed with red waves that reminded me of The Little Mermaid. The petty part of me resented them both. I absentmindedly touched my unruly dark hair and tried to be grateful that I wasn’t bald.
“What can we do for you, new witch?” the redhead asked. It wasn't exactly a pleasant greeting. More of a demand.
“I'd like to speak with the head of your pride, if he's available.”
“Is this about Will Heath?” the brunette asked.
“If it's all the same to you, I would rather keep the topic of the conversation private.”
“Is it true you stood on Curse Cliff?” the redhead asked. She backed away slightly, and I got the sense that she shared Fabio’s intense fear of the cliffside.
“It's true,” I admitted. “To be fair, though, I didn't realize where I was standing at the time. Nothing bad has happened since then. I don't seem to have absorbed any negative energy.”
The redhead looked unconvinced. “Fabio said you were weird.”
I didn't have a response to that. In my mind, we were all a little bit weird. “So is Mr. Shoostack available?”
“Quit giving her a hard time and let her through,” a voice boomed from inside.
I resisted the urge to smile triumphantly. The two self-appointed bodyguards moved so that I could pass.
“You both have beautiful hair,” I called over my shoulder. I couldn't say much for their personalities, but when I saw an opportunity to give a compliment, I preferred not to hold back.
The door to the house was wide open. “Mr. Shoostack?”
The head of the werelion pride sat in a recliner, drinking a bottle of beer and reading a book. He was long and lean with a luxurious head of bright white hair that made his sun-kissed skin appear even darker.
“You’re reading Pride and Prejudice?” I asked incredulously. He hardly seemed the type to enjoy Jane Austen.
He shrugged. “I was misled by the word pride in the title. I thought it was about us. Once I started reading, though, I couldn't stop.”
I laughed. “It's a very good book. I think you'll enjoy it.”
He gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat, Emma. May I call you Emma?”
I nodded. “I'd like to speak with you about Will. I'll be defending him at his trial.”
He set the book aside and gave me his full attention. “That Will is a good boy. His father died a couple of years ago and his mother basically checked out. He's been in charge of his siblings and doing a damn good job of it.”
“Do you have any idea why he would want nightshade?”
“I wish I did,” he said softly. “Don't like seeing any of ours in trouble. We try to take care of our own. His grandpa has been sick for a long time. We try to take turns caring for him so all of the work doesn’t fall on Will’s shoulders. It was bad enough to lose Will's father. That was sudden. But old Atlas has been hanging on for years now.” He took a swig of beer. “No sign of departing us anytime soon either. The strongest weakling I’ve ever known, if you know what I mean.”
“So Will is taking care of his two younger brothers, his mother, and his chronically ill grandfather?” Talk about a full plate for a twenty-year-old. My heart went out to him. “Does his grandfather live with him?”
“Yeah, they live three doors down in the rancher with the yellow door. I've tried to get Martha, that's his mother, to rejoin community life, but she's determined to live the rest of her days in a haze of misery.”
“Has she considered therapy at all? I can recommend someone.” I wasn't sure how Catherine Hall would handle a grieving werelion, but she'd certainly be tough enough to handle any hard-nosed shifter.
“The pride doesn't normally go in for that sort of thing,” he admitted. “At this point, though, I’d be willing to entertain it for her. It's gone on too long. And now Will is suffering because of it.”
“I get the sense that Will is protecting someone,” I said. “He insists that his younger brothers had nothing to do with it. Is there any chance he's lying?”
Anthony shrugged. “There's always a chance. I don't know, though. He wouldn't say much to me either. You're right, though, in that he does seem to be keeping something to himself. He’s a loyal werelion. I'll say that for him. A real source of pride for the pride.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“Do you think it would be okay if I went to speak to his grandfather?”
“I'll do you one better, Emma. I'll walk you over there.”
“Really?” I wasn't expecting full cooperation. Usually I got some pushback.
He grinned at me and stood. “We’ll pretend we’re taking a turn about the room like Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennett.” He crossed the room to the couch and offered me his arm. “Shall we?”
I couldn't resist a smile. “That's very kind of you, Mr. Shoostack.”
“Call me Anthony. We’re not formal in the Glades.”
We left the house and the scowling women behind us and walked along the lane until we reached the rancher with the yellow door.
“So what’s wrong with his grandfather?”
“Some kind of lung disease,” he said. “He's had it for so long that I don't even remember what he was like without it. Boyd has offered to come out on numerous occasions, but the old man refuses. Seems like he just wants to suffer endlessly.”
“Some people just don't like to accept help,” I said. “They don't want to seem weak.”
Anthony nodded. “You definitely see that a lot in a werelion pride. We’re a bunch of stubborn sonsabitches. I don't think the old man realizes how hard he's made it on his family. Even if he’d just ease his suffering, it would help. That hacking cough must keep the whole family awake at night. Sometimes if my windows are open, I can hear it from my own bedroom.”
The more I learned about Will, the sorrier I felt for him. I wanted to help him now more than ever.
Anthony rapped on the front door. “Atlas, you in there?”
“What about Will's mother?” I asked. “Isn't she home?”
“I saw her go past my house about an hour ago in lion form,” he said. “She tends to leave the same time every day to go for a run in the countryside.” He gave me a pointed look. “No one wants to break any ordinances.”
“I would think that’s good for her mental health,” I said.
Before he could answer, the front door opened. A young boy stood in the doorway in his pajamas. He didn't look older than ten.
“Hi,” I said. “Are you Will's younger brother?”
“I’m Nathan,” he said. He glanced at Anthony. “Good afternoon, sir. Would you like to come in?”
“Those are some excellent manners, Nathan,” I said. “We'd like to speak to your grandfather. Is he awake?”
A hacking cough from the other room made it clear that he was, indeed, awake.
“Grandpa,” he yelled. “Anthony is here to see you with some lady.”
Anthony patted Nathan on the head. “Why don't you fetch your grandpa a tumbler of whiskey and meet us in his room?”
Nathan nodded and ran off toward the kitchen. Anthony guided me to the room at the furthest end of the hallway. An old man with white flowing hair sat upright in bed. His face was worn and haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he h
adn't slept in a week.
“Anthony,” Atlas managed to croak.
“How are you holding up, Atlas? I've got a friend of Will’s here to see you.”
I gave him a wave. “Technically, I'm his lawyer. I'm defending him against the nightshade charge. I was hoping to ask you a couple of questions.”
“Lawyer?” Atlas glanced from me back to Anthony. “Will got arrested?”
I glanced at Anthony in surprise. No one had told his grandfather about the arrest?
“I suspect Will didn't want to worry you,” Anthony said quickly.
Atlas stared at me. “Is he going to prison?”
“I hope not,” I said. “My job is to defend him to the best of my ability. The problem is that he’s stonewalling me. I can't help him if I don't have all the information.”
The sound of a slamming door caught our attention. Will appeared in the doorway in a matter of seconds. He fixed his gaze on me, his brown eyes blazing.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded hotly. “I told you not to come.”
“And I told you that I'm trying to help you,” I said firmly. “That means talking to other people who know you.”
Will strained not to shift into a lion. I could see the tension in his youthful features. “You need to leave. Now.”
Anthony stepped between us. “Will Heath, you will end this now. As your pride leader, I insist that you answer your lawyer’s questions honestly.”
Will took a moment to decide his next move before storming out of the house. I chased after him, calling his name. By the time I reached the front yard, he’d shifted into lion form and taken off. Anthony joined me on the grass, clucking his tongue.
“I wish I could tell you more. I just think he’s having a hard time.”
It was understandable. He was only twenty years old with the responsibility of a forty-year-old. He hadn’t learned to live his own life yet, but somehow he was responsible for four other lives.
“I’ll give him some time,” I said. “The trial isn’t until next week.”
Anthony shot me a sympathetic look. “In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do.”
While I was in the Glades, Astrid sent her owl to track me down. It seemed that Britta was busy at the station and Astrid needed a stand-in deputy with her to interview Donna Montrose, another suspect in the Ed Doyle murder case.
Donna was on the roof when we arrived, hovering above the chimney. Her wings fluttered at warped speed as she buzzed around the structure, taking copious notes.
“I guess a pixie makes sense for a job like this,” I said. “It must be much easier for her to move around buildings than a satyr.”
Astrid shrugged. “It didn’t seem to deter Ed. From what I hear, he was very good at his job. Quick and thorough and always fair.”
Astrid whistled to get Donna’s attention. The pixie noticed us on the ground and made a beeline—or a pixieline—for us.
“Good day, Sheriff Astrid.” She glanced at me and frowned. “And hello Girl I Don’t Know.” She gave Astrid a suspicious look. “Where’s Britta? You haven’t fired her already, have you?”
“No, she’s holding down the fort at the station,” Astrid said. “We had a few drunk and disorderlies come in. A wereferret party got out of hand. Ricardo was dancing in the street wearing nothing but a strategically placed coconut shell.”
Donna and I laughed. It was easy to imagine Ricardo drunk and disorderly—in the best possible way. He was far from a belligerent drunk.
“I’m Emma Hart,” I said.
Donna’s mouth formed a tiny ‘o.’ “The new witch from the human world.”
“That’s me.” I gave her an awkward wave. I had a feeling I was going to be referred to as the new witch for the next century, if I managed to live that long. Instead of the FNG, I was the FNW.
“Do you need to get inside the building?” Donna asked. “It’s only closed until I complete the final inspection.” She referred to her notes. “If my calculations are correct, I should only be another twenty minutes.”
“We don’t need to get inside,” Astrid said. “We need to talk to you.”
“Me?” She seemed genuinely surprised. “What about?”
“Ed Doyle,” Astrid said. “You were his apprentice. Isn’t that right?”
Donna’s expression softened. “Yes. Poor Ed. Such a tragedy.”
“Not so much for you,” I said. “Now you finally get to step into his shoes.” Or hooves.
“Well, I have been waiting an awfully long time for my chance to shine,” Donna admitted. “Ed was such an exemplary inspector. He never left any jobs for me to do.”
“That must’ve been tough,” Astrid said. “Here you are, working your wings off, trying to show the town that you can inspect a building like nobody’s business. But there’s diligent Ed, taking all the work.”
Donna nodded. “It hasn’t been easy. I’ve been training for what seems like forever. I’m so ready to do solo inspections.”
Astrid smiled. “Well, now you can do as many solo inspections as you like.”
Donna brightened. “I know. I guess if there has to be an upside to Ed’s death, that’s it.” She frowned and quickly covered her mouth. “Oh no. That sounds dreadful, doesn’t it? There shouldn’t be an upside to Ed’s death.”
“You rode around town with him a lot to complete inspections, didn’t you?” Astrid asked.
“All the time.”
“And you helped move equipment like ladders and tools?” she continued.
“Yes, almost every day,” Donna replied. “It was easy for me to move heavy and awkward things like ladders on account of my pixie dust.”
“Do you know how Ed was killed?” I asked.
“He fell off a ladder,” Donna said. “Between you and me, I heard someone pushed him, but no one says who it was.”
“He wasn’t pushed,” Astrid said. “Someone tampered with his ladder.”
Donna’s brow lifted. “Who could possibly have done that? The ladder was either on the jalopy or with one of us…” She stopped talking, the realization settling in. “Oh. You think I tampered with the ladder?”
“We’re only asking a few questions,” Astrid said. “We don’t think anything right now.”
Donna didn’t seem fond of the addition of the phrase ‘right now.’
“Why would I kill Ed?” she demanded, her hands gripping her hips. “He and I worked well together. He taught me everything I know.”
“He taught you everything, but then wouldn’t let you use that knowledge independently. He hampered you,” Astrid said. “And it made you very angry.”
“Maybe you didn’t mean to kill him,” I said. “Just injuring him would get him out of the way long enough for you to shine. So you messed with the ladder thinking he might fall and break a leg.” All About Ed instead of All About Eve.
“This is insane,” Donna yelled. “I’d never hurt Ed. He was the gold standard of inspectors. Spellbound is a lesser place without him.”
“Your fingerprints were all over the ladder,” Astrid said, ignoring her outburst.
“Of course they were,” Donna said, her wings agitated. “I told you I handled that ladder all the time.”
“But you didn’t notice any issues with it?” I asked.
“Of course not. I would have reported it.”
“So you inspect buildings really well, but not so much your own equipment,” I said.
If looks could kill, I’d have been a steaming pile of goo on the ground. “I had nothing to do with Ed’s death. Nothing. If you’ll excuse me, I have Ed’s job to do. It’s the best way to honor his memory.” Her wings fluttered and she shot back to the roof.
Astrid and I exchanged looks.
“All residents should take their jobs so seriously,” Astrid said.
I was inclined to agree.
Chapter 11
I stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I had been lost in a fog of sleep
deprivation. I thought maybe it was time to increase the dose of my anti-anxiety potion.
“Good morning, my pet,” a scratchy voice said.
I jumped back, knocking into the counter and dispatching the cookie jar onto the floor. It broke into several large pieces.
“Not Mr. Cookie,” Gareth cried. He bent down to pick up the pieces.
“I'm so sorry,” I said. “I wasn't expecting company at this hour.” I paused and looked curiously at Lyra Grey, the middle Grey sister. “How did you get here?” Usually I had to go and collect her. Her cave was on the outskirts of town and much too far to walk.
“I had an appointment in town this morning,” Lyra said. “The doctor was kind enough to send a jalopy for me.”
“And they let you take it anywhere you like?” It was weird enough to think of an ophthalmology shuttle. Now they were giving her free reign?
“The jalopy isn't here, dearest,” she said. “I asked the driver to drop me here after the appointment. I told him that you would drive me home later.” She scratched her chin with her long, straggly fingernail. “He seemed quite pleased, he did. I got the distinct impression that he did not want to drive back to the cave.”
Who could blame him? That cave was one of the scariest places I’d visited in Spellbound and that was saying something.
“Are you and Gareth having an impromptu lesson?” It was only then that I noticed Gareth had managed to pick up all the broken pieces of the cookie jar and place them on the kitchen counter. “Stars and stones. You moved multiple objects at once.” I couldn't keep the amazement from my voice. Gareth had made impressive strides since he began working with Lyra.
Gareth smiled proudly. “Aye, we've been working on this sort of skill.”
“He'll be cooking in no time, he will.” Lyra glanced around the kitchen. “Speaking of cooking, I would not mind a bite to eat, not at all.”
“Well, I'm all out of raw headless chickens, but I might have a cooked drumstick if that interests you.” It wasn't my ideal breakfast, but then again I hadn't been living in a cave for the last century.
Lyra’s tongue darted out and flicked her upper lip before disappearing back into her mouth. “Yes. A drumstick would do nicely, it would. Any Goddess Bounty to wash it down with?”
Better Than Hex (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 9