by Nova Nelson
“I gotta run,” she said, grabbing a to-go box off the counter. “The animals can’t feed themselves!” She turned to me. “It was great meeting you, Nora. We’ll have to catch up sometime.”
“Sounds good.” For the record, I meant it.
Once she left, Tanner filled me in. “She’s been running my grandmother’s animal sanctuary since she passed away last summer.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother, Tanner.”
“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine. Everyone’s pretty sure she left the sanctuary to me, but I don’t know the first thing about taking care of all those animals. Zoe wanted a job, had experience with animals in Avalon, so we agreed that she’d be the unofficial owner until the dang last will and testament moves through probate in the Parchment Catacombs and we can know for sure who the sanctuary goes to.”
“And how long does that take?”
“Oh, you know, four to four hundred weeks. Organization isn’t a strong suit of the catacombs, but bureaucracy is. Getting official Eastwind records is a true test of patience. ” He shrugged. “I’m not worried about it, though. She’s good people. Anyway, can I get you something to eat?”
“In a second. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” My heart started to race again. “In private?”
His easygoing expression grew serious. “Oh, okay. Yeah. Sure. Follow me.” He led me back into the kitchen, not far from the manager’s office where all the trouble began. “Everything okay?” he asked, placing a strong hand on my shoulder, looking me in the eyes, and generally sending shivers all through my body.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Once he removed his hand, I was able to think again. “Actually, I just needed to ask you something. Are you aware of who the diner goes to in the event of Bruce’s death?”
He flinched like I’d just flicked him on the forehead. “Um, yes.” He closed his eyes. “I was wondering when that would come up.”
Interesting. “How do you know?” I asked.
He shrugged guiltily. “I overheard Bruce talking about it on the phone a few weeks before he died. I wasn’t trying to listen in. I was just tidying up some of the shelves during a lull and heard him shouting about it. I assume he was talking to Quinn Shaw. The guy’s a little hard of hearing in his old age.”
“So you didn’t hear it from Seamus Shaw then?”
“Oh, sure I did. But I already knew about it by then. I honestly don’t know why Quinn trusts Seamus with anything. I still had one foot outside the pub when Seamus spotted me and ran over to tell me about it.”
Again with the pub. Man, could I use a beer. I made a mental note to find it as soon as I had a spare moment. And if Tanner happened to be there at the same time, and he happened to buy me a drink, and we happened to—
Focus, Nora!
“You do realize,” I began, “that your knowledge of this means you had means—the strength to wield a frying pan with lethal force—and opportunity—you were back here with Bruce when he was murdered—and now motive—the diner goes to you.”
“You think I did it?” he asked, looking remarkably like a sad puppy.
“No, I don’t,” I answered truthfully. “I was here, remember? I saw your face. I’ve met a lot of good liars in my time, but if you were putting on a show, you’d qualify as the best I’d encountered.”
Ansel’s theory that anyone as likable as Tanner had to be hiding something made a certain type of sense. But I suspected that if Tanner was hiding anything, it was just how deeply he cared about every living being in Eastwind.
“I’m glad you don’t think I’m a murderer,” he said. “It’s good to know I can depend on you for this.”
Oh no. He depended on me? Talk about a burden to bear. Now I felt personally responsible for solving this murder so Tanner wouldn’t end up in jail. I suspected the prison system in a world full of deadly paranormal creatures wasn’t the kindest or most forgiving.
“So what do I do?” he said. “Just wait around for them to come arrest me?”
“No,” I said, locking eyes with him. I grabbed each of his shoulders to make sure he heard what I was about to say. “You’re not taking the blame for this. I know you didn’t do it. So what you do now is fix me a steak and eggs to-go, then take care of this place while I figure out who murdered Bruce. Okay?”
He nodded.
Fixer of All Things wasn’t my favorite role to play, but having spent so many years as a manager and owner of a restaurant, it was a role in which I was well versed. Not only had I fixed thousands of problems that my servers caused, I’d also managed to fix thousands of problems that customers conjured out of thin air. It wasn’t fun, but I knew I could do it.
And Tanner’s sad, desperate face was just the fuel I needed.
Also, the possible benefit of him owing me one didn’t go completely ignored.
He hustled off to place the order with the cook, and I left the back-of-house and took a seat at the counter to wait.
As I looked around the place, I realized just how busy it was at this time of the morning. Was Tanner the only server? He must live his life in the weeds.
Ted was back, sitting in his same spot in the corner.
He nodded and waved. “Nora!”
Let me tell you, it never stops being creepy to hear Death call your name.
He scooted out of the booth, getting slightly tripped up on all his pitch-black robes, and approached me. I looked around quickly, and, yep, people were staring.
“How’s it going, Nora?” he said, helping himself to the stool next to me.
“Oh, it’s going.” I smiled. Was it possible to keep this short without upsetting him? If it was, I could do it. I was a pro at bringing small talk to a screeching halt.
But Ted wasn’t great at taking hints. “Heard you stopped by Echo’s yesterday.”
“Yep. Sure did.”
“You don’t need to, you know. You’re pretty enough as it is.”
Oh … no.
Death was hitting on me.
I laughed it off. “I was actually there for something else. But thanks.”
“I mean it,” he persisted.
“Hey, Ted,” Tanner said, appearing out of nowhere like a guardian angel. “Did you need something? I can be right over. I was just busy in the back for a second.”
Ted stood up, and I could hear the distinct sound of bones rattling underneath his cloak. “Nah, I’m good. Just saying hello. I’ll, uh, I’ll just—” He motioned back to his booth with a hitch of his thumb. “Nice to see you again, Nora.”
“You too, Ted.”
When I turned to look at Tanner, he inspected me with raised eyebrows and was biting back a smile.
“Stop,” I said.
“Stop what?” he asked, feigning ignorance.
“You know what.” I grabbed the to-go box that he’d set on the counter.
“Listen, Nora, I’m not here to judge. He does seem like your type, in a strange way.”
“Oh shut it.”
“What?” he said, holding up his hands innocently. “Plenty of women like older men. Even much older.”
I stood. “For the record, I’m not one of those women.” I set a gold coin down on the counter. “I tend to like my men a tad younger. That way I can teach them a thing or two.”
Just before I turned my back to him, his jaw dropped.
Good. My work here was done.
The unfortunate reality, as I turned onto the street where Ruby lived, was that I’d hit a dead end. Not literally. Figuratively.
I didn’t know who else to talk to, was out of possible suspects, and any sane logistician would conclude, based on the facts, that Tanner Culpepper most definitely killed Bruce Saxon. If the Eastwind justice system was anything like the one back home, it would also agree with that assessment and Tanner might spend the rest of his days sharing a jail cell with some overly amorous werebear.
As I relayed the information to Grim on our walk home (omittin
g my interaction with Ted, obviously), he seemed even more glum than usual. No one wanted Tanner to take the fall for this. But the clock was ticking before an arrest would have to be made.
I dropped one of my over-medium eggs onto the porch for Grim. But before I could open the front door, I heard a man call after me. “Ms. Ashcroft.”
Deputy Stu Manchester hustled over. He skipped steps as he took the stairs, and stopped abruptly only a few feet away from me. “Good morning, Ms. Ashcroft.”
“Morning, Deputy.”
“I have some good news,” he said.
“Well then, come on in, won’t you?”
He nodded and I led him inside.
Ruby was snuggled under a thick crocheted blanket in a chair in the corner of the parlor. She read a book while Bruce Saxon floated in small circles around the room to pass the time. Of course, Deputy Manchester knew nothing about Bruce’s neurotic behavior, or even that he was stuck in ghost limbo.
“Deputy Manchester,” Ruby said without looking up from her book. She grabbed a bookmark from the rickety table next to her chair, slipped it between the pages, placed the closed book in her lap, and carefully removed her spectacles before setting eyes on the visitor. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I didn’t know Ruby well yet, but I could sense the dry sarcasm from all the way across the dimly lit room.
“Got some good news for Ms. Ashcroft here. She invited me in.”
“Then come in and have a seat.” She motioned to the parlor table.
“Oh, I won’t be long, I don’t think,” he said, then he turned to me. “Just wanted to let you know that you’ve officially been cleared as a suspect.”
“That’s good,” I replied. With how preoccupied I’d become finding the killer and exonerating Tanner, my own possible arrest had managed to disappear from the forefront of my mind. “Do you mind if I ask what new evidence has come to light?”
“Not so much light,” said Stu, chuckling at some joke I didn’t get. “More like dark. I ran into Ted this morning, out by the graveyard”—he held up a hand—“and I know what you’re thinking because I was thinking it too. But no, he wasn’t just milling about at the graveyard. Just a coincidence we passed there. He made that clear enough.” He rolled his eyes. “And I promised him I’d let other people know if I mentioned it.
“Anyway, Ted said you couldn’t be responsible for Bruce’s death because he saw you sitting in a booth when he heard the sound that turned out to be the killer smashing that old cad over the back of the head.”
“So much for not speaking ill of the dead,” said Bruce, who hovered a foot off the ground, pretending to lean against the parlor wall. “I’m hardly a cad …”
I ignored Bruce, though, preoccupied as I was with the new reality.
The grim reaper had lied for me. I was already in the kitchen when whoever-it-was attacked Bruce. For all Ted knew, I was the killer. And it didn’t matter to him. Why?
The obvious reason was that he had a crush on me, but let’s be honest here: I was seriously hoping for another motive. The last thing I needed on my plate was Death believing I owed him one.
“It was the last piece of the puzzle we needed,” continued Deputy Manchester. “To be honest, we’d eliminated all but two suspects, you being one of them. I figured, why would Ted lie for Nora, since he doesn’t know her? Anyway, now that you’re eliminated, we can finally move this case forward and—” He cut himself off. “You don’t seem all that relieved. If I’d just been told that I wouldn’t be going to Ironhelm Penitentiary for the rest of my life, I would, I don’t know, smile?”
“Sorry,” I said quickly then forced a smile onto my face. “I was just … so relieved. A little overwhelmed.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding and hooking his thumbs into his belt. “I forget how complex female emotions can be. Well, there you go. That was my big news. I’ll just, uh, be going.”
“Wait,” I blurted. “You said it was down to me and one other person. And if I’m off the hook, does that mean you’re making an arrest?”
“Well, not me, per se. Actually, Sheriff Bloom wanted to make the arrest herself. She knew the town wouldn’t be all too happy about it. Good leader, that one. Whenever there’s something extra messy, she steps in and does it herself. She should be arriving at Medium Rare as we speak, in fact.”
Oh no.
“Tanner,” I said, looking from Ruby to Bruce for help. I turned back to Deputy Manchester. “She’s arresting Tanner?”
Stu nodded somberly. “I don’t like the idea of him being a killer any more than you do, Ms. Ashcroft, but it looks awfully bad for him. Then once Seamus Shaw mentioned the will to me, well, it’ll likely be another handful of months before we can get a records request through at the Parchment Catacombs, but we have probable cause for the time being. Obviously, we won’t be able to use the will as official evidence until we have it secured, so Tanner will have to wait in jail for a bit. Breaks my heart to think of him going through all that, but what can you do? Murder can’t go unpunished.”
“Thanks, Deputy,” I murmured, staring absentmindedly at a metal bauble hanging from the ceiling, catching light from the fireplace as it twisted slowly.
To the others, I might have looked like I was in shock, but I wasn’t. I was hyper-focused. That happens sometimes, when problems get too big too quick. My brain blocks out everything except for the problem, which becomes a massive, cloudy blob. If I can just let it stay there for a while, undisturbed, sometimes answers emerge from the smoke.
“I’ll show you out,” Ruby said, crossing the room and laying a hand on Deputy Manchester’s back. “Thank you so much for stopping by to deliver the news. I’m sure you have all kinds of important things to get to, though. We won’t keep you a second longer.”
He was already standing with both feet on the front doorstep by the time she finished speaking, and I caught a quick glimpse of Grim, out on the porch, lift his giant head, take in the scene, and then shut his eyes and lower his head again.
Ruby closed the door and set herself to making tea.
I took a seat at the table and was only faintly aware of the clinks of spoons on china as she went about her work. When I looked up again, Ruby was setting a steaming teacup in front of me, and, out of pure courtesy, I presume, she set one down in front of Bruce, too, where he hovered in a chair.
“Are we all in agreement then,” she began, “that the notion of Tanner murdering Bruce is a steaming pile of unicorn swirls?”
Bruce nodded.
“Absolutely,” I said. “Wait, are unicorns a thing here?”
She nodded. “There’s a lovely ranch out in Erin Park. I’d bet Tanner would take you for a day trip, assuming we manage to scrounge up the evidence necessary to keep him from living the rest of his life in a dark cell with some psychopathic minotaur.”
“That went from lovely to horrifying rather quickly,” I said. “But you have a point.”
“There’s some crucial information we’re missing,” Ruby said. “I’ve been at this long enough to know when we’re missing a piece.” She turned to Bruce. “You said you thought it was Jane, but Nora seems fairly certain Jane wouldn’t want you dead, not even in a fit of rage. Did you and Ansel ever exchange words?”
“No,” Bruce said. “Ansel has a bit of a short fuse, but he and I ran together in the woods a few times before Jane and I split. We weren’t best friends or anything, but we understood one another, I think. Werebears tend to be loners, and I wouldn’t run with my old pack if you paid me a thousand gold coins. Those bunch of inbred, anarchists …”
“Who?”
“My pack,” he said. “Luckily, they live in the sparser parts of the Outskirts and know better than to poke their head around Medium Rare, so I never had to deal with them. Bunch of degenerates who can’t get past the fact that they’re not in charge in Eastwind anymore. Generations. It’s been generations since werewolves ran this place. I got sick of telling them to get over it
and finally told them I didn’t want to see their mangy faces ever again.”
Bad blood, by the sound of it. “Could one of them be the killer?” I asked.
“Nah,” he said. “I haven’t spoken to them in years. I’m dead to them. Or, um, I was dead to them before I was dead, but now I guess I’m extra dead to them.” He shook his head to clear it, leaving ghastly tracers in the wake of his movement. “They live on the fringes of the Outskirts. Don’t even come far enough into town to visit the diner. Not that you’d see me crying about it. They seem to think if they spend too much time in human form and around witches—no offense—it’ll turn them domesticated.”
Ruby turned to me. “Werewolves and witches have a long history in Eastwind. The werewolves used to run things, but the witches have since taken most of the control. And now the mayor is a witch, and not a single seat on the council is held by a werewolf. It’s a touchy subject.”
“Just to be clear,” Bruce said, “I don’t buy into that. I have no problem with witches. The witches in this town have always been nice to me, and I’ve done my best to return the kindness.”
“What about Jane. Is she more like you or your family?” I asked.
Bruce sighed, and I could tell he still had plenty of affection for his ex-wife. “She was more like me. It was the reason we got together. Both of us were tired of the werewolf nonsense. But she came from one of the higher families. My pack was feral trash, to be blunt. She was born up in Hightower Gardens where all the old money lives. But she didn’t like that life any more than I liked mine.”
“Sounds like a real Romeo and Juliet story,” I said, frustrated that we were no closer to helping Tanner. “Your family seems delightful and all, but I’m going to rule out speaking with them since they hate me for being a witch, and they sound like the type to enjoy a good feeding frenzy.”
Bruce nodded minutely. “I don’t disagree with that assessment.”
Ruby chimed in. “And you said your girlfriend couldn’t have done it because …?”