by Tegan Maher
I didn't know what to say to that, so I just took a sip of wine.
"People tell me how lucky I am to have the money and the house and the toys, but to be honest, I liked it best back when we had a beater car and a little ski boat we'd bought on the cheap because it wasn't running." She smiled, her eyes a little unfocused as she looked back in time. "Fixing that boat up together was so much fun."
Now that, I could relate to. "Hunter and I do the same thing with motorcycles. He and a friend of ours bought a junker and are fixing it up. Sometimes we spend hours working on it, but somehow it doesn't feel like work."
"I imagine that's probably why you do so well with your business, too. How much you care reflects in the quality of the pieces."
I'd never thought of it that way, but I was a perfectionist when it came to them—not because it was a personality quirk but because I was proud of every piece and wanted it to reflect the best work I could do.
She smiled, looking out over the water as she talked. "Our first son was conceived on that little boat. And maybe our second one, too."
"Then you do have good memories of it," I said, laughing. The more we talked, the harder it was for me cast her as a villain.
"Yes, indeed. Jim was almost a different man back in those days. Carefree, happy-go-lucky. I miss that version of him, as much for him as for me. His job has made him much tougher. Sometimes I look back at the day he was offered the judgeship and wish we'd have made a different decision. We wouldn't have the money, but we'd be richer in other, more important ways."
That was eerily close to what Anna Mae had said about being married to Hank. Well, not really, because he'd gone bad and they'd become strangers. She'd only stayed with him because he made it impossible for her to leave. To her credit, she hadn't known the full extent of what he was doing. The overall point with both stories was that money didn't buy happiness. It could prevent a lot of misery, but I was learning it often carried its own brand of that, too.
Drawing similarities between the two relationships made me think. Hank and Anna had started their marriage off happy, as had Mel and Jim. Hank and gone bad, drunk on the power of being the biggest fish in a very small pond. Could that apply to Jim? She said he'd changed, but had he turned into a murderer? And when I'd asked what she did, she'd said something along the lines of whatever it takes to keep up appearances. That covered a lot of ground.
The sky was fading to black, and lights shone from a barge in the middle of the lake. I presumed that was where they were setting the fireworks off from.
"We should probably go back up and see what the boys are doing," she said, pushing to her feet. She swirled her glass. "Plus, I need a refill."
I was just scooting back from the edge when something dark caught my eye against the white of the wooden platform. There was a piece of fabric stuck on a nail in the wood. Not thinking about the repercussions if it turned out to be evidence, I pulled it out and stuffed it in my pocket.
Suddenly, the warm-and-fuzzies I'd been feeling toward Mel weren't so warm and fuzzy anymore.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THE FIREWORKS WERE great, but all I could think about was the little swatch of fabric in my pocket. I could almost feel it burning a hole through the denim while I did my best to smile and appear relaxed. I kept telling myself I was being stupid and that it would be a colossal coincidence, but would it really?
I figured the cloth pushed the situation to the point that peeking into his head wouldn't breach my ethics, so I did. The thing with mind reading, though, is that you only get to see what's on the page at that moment. Unless he was thinking about the murder, he could have twelve bodies stashed in his hull and I'd never know it. Another reason I didn't use my skill often.
Right then, he was a little fuzzy from the wine and all he was thinking about was how much the display probably cost and that he was ready for us to leave because he wanted to do naughty things with Mel. Like I said earlier—crawling around in somebody's head can be icky.
He didn't want us out of there nearly as bad as I wanted to be out of there though, so the smoke hadn't even cleared from the grand finale when I fake-yawned and asked if they'd mind taking us back to shore. Once on dry land and away from them, Hunter turned to me.
"Are you okay? You've been acting a little off ever since you and Mel went to check out the swimming deck."
"Funny you should ask," I said, dreading telling him what I'd done now that I'd had time to think about the legal ramifications. It couldn't be used to hang them if it turned out to be hers.
"What do you mean?"
I pulled the fabric from my pocket, cringing as I handed it to him. "I found this stuck on a nail on the edge of the swimming deck."
He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and blew it out through his mouth. "You realize it’s inadmissible now, right?"
"Yeah," I said. "I do. I didn't think—I just grabbed it."
He ran a hand through his hair then shook his head but pulled out his cell and turned the flashlight on. Closer examination revealed a dark stain, and I scrubbed a hand over my face. I may have just found a piece of the victim's clothing with her blood on it and removed it from the crime scene.
Sighing, he pulled his electronics baggie out of his backpack. It sucked being caught in the rain on your bike, but being stuck in the rain and having your phone ruined made for a really bad day. Most experienced bikers carried something to shove their electronics in should they get caught in an undie-soaker, and I was glad he was one of them. Of course, as a cop, he probably would, regardless.
"Just put it in the baggie, Noelle," he said, the irritation plain in his voice. For once, I was glad we didn't keep the Bluetooth open, because I needed time to beat myself up and get over it, and he needed some cooling-down time, too, I was sure.
Rather than taking the right that led to the farm, he pulled over. I pulled in behind him, and his voice sounded in my helmet.
"I'm just going home tonight, okay?" he said in a tired voice. "I know you didn't mean to disturb evidence, but you've got to learn to use your head sometimes instead of just acting first and thinking later."
What could I say to that? He was right. "Okay. Let me know when you get home. I love you." I'd apologized ten times before we'd gotten on the bikes.
"All right." He paused before adding, "Love you, too. Matt said he was going to be home, so check in with him when you get there."
Clicking off the Bluetooth, I pulled back onto the road and turned toward home, wishing I could turn back time rather than just slow it down.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THE HOUSE WAS DARK when I got there. Gabi must have still been on her date, and Shelby and Cody were hanging at Will's. Speaking of, I reminded myself to have them check out Norman, if for no other reason than to make Erol feel better.
When I drove through the wards, something felt off. Not necessarily bad, but off. Somebody'd been there, and it wasn't Shelby or me or anybody else we knew. It didn't make any sense that they hadn't triggered the alarm. It would take some powerful magic to get through them without tripping them.
I proceeded carefully, well aware that even though I had some serious mojo, a shovel to the back of the head was all it took to scramble it. I sent out feelers to the house. As far as I could tell, nobody'd been in there. The wards were intact, and the magic was all Shelby's. Same with the barn, though Matt wasn't in his apartment.
Because somebody'd left a body in the barn and attacked Gabi in there a few months before, it now got the same treatment as the house. We had wards around the property and extra ones around the house and barn. Fool me once, shame on you. Try to fool me twice, and you'd find yourself turned into a goat.
I sat on the porch in the dark for a bit, unwilling to turn on the lights and make myself a target until I was absolutely sure I was alone. Max clomped across the wooden planks.
"What are you doing, sitting here in the dark?" he asked. "Forget to pay the electric bill because you'v
e been gallivanting so much?"
There was a trace of bitterness in his voice. Between finding pieces for the business and doing things with Hunter, I'd been away from the house more often than he was used to. "Aww, do you miss me, Max?"
"No. What I miss is somebody to pour my evening scotch before bedtime."
I laughed. "Poor Max. You mean to tell me Matt didn't pour it over your evening oats?"
"He did, but that's my dinner drink, not my bedtime drink."
Raising a brow, I said, "You know, you may have a slight drinking problem."
"That's what I've been saying," he said, giving me the grumpy-donkey stink-eye. "I'm having a problem with the delivery system. It's not like I have thumbs."
"Ooookay," I said. "On that note, I'll just say your complaint is duly noted. On another, was somebody here? The wards felt funny when I came in."
He looked away. "Shelby was here for a while with Cody. Matt was, but he went to hang out with Anna Mae."
I furrowed my brow. "He said she was busy tonight."
"Well," he said, sniffing, "I'm not his keeper. All I can tell you is what I'm told."
"And nobody else?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. If he were able to blush, he would have. Unlike Hunter, he had a terrible poker face.
"Nope," he said, popping the p. "So, how were the fireworks?"
I pinched my lips together at the sudden change of topic. Like me, his response to uncomfortable questions that he didn't want to answer was dodge and evade rather than lie outright. I let it go but decided to keep a closer eye on him. Something was up at the Flynn farm.
"They were fine, except I probably ruined our chance at capturing a murderer," I said, then explained the situation.
"Good thing Hunter's a better cop than you are. You should have left it alone. Even I know that, and I'm a sixteenth-century donkey. Haven't you learned anything from all those crime shows you watch ad nauseam? Speaking of, we need one of those giant remotes so I can watch TV and change channels when you aren't here."
And we were back to talking about Max again. All was well, except I knew the lop-eared liar was hiding something. "I'll find one," I said.
Everything else was adapted for him, except for the scotch of course. That wasn't changing anytime soon because there was no way I could afford his habit if he had open access. Plus, he was a crab-ass when he was hungover.
My phone zinged with Hunter's Doppler-effect motorcycle ringtone. He'd made it home, and that's all he said. My pride stung a little too much to force a conversation, so I just thanked him for letting me know and let it go.
Sighing, I went to the kitchen and made myself a cup of hot tea, then poured Max's nightly shot into his bowl.
The herbal blend did its job, and I was out like a light in no time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
BY THE TIME I WOKE up the next morning, everybody else was gone. Shelby'd fed the horses before she left but hadn't had time to clean the stalls. That would wait, so I took the time to sit on the back porch and just enjoy the peace. I loved watching the horses in the back pasture.
My eyes strayed toward the gate, and I decided to put my shoes on and check it out for myself. I made it as far as putting my hand on it before I felt the Nunya spell wash over me. I pushed through and resisted the urge to turn around and go clean the barn, but I only made it ten feet or so beyond the gate before my entire body started itching. I took another step and it got worse, then another and it was unbearable. By that time, the pull to the barn was irresistible.
I turned around and ran back through the gate, and my hands were shaking so badly from exertion that I could barely latch it before giving in and going to the barn. I stewed while I cleaned the stalls, but phase two of the spell kicked in and I wondered why I'd ever wanted to go back there anyway.
After I took a shower, I called Shelby and asked if she could pop into Reimagined and take Norm to see Will. She agreed, and I had no doubt that by the time I got to the shop, she'd have already popped in, taken him to the clinic, and brought him back again. I'm not gonna lie—I was a little jealous of the whole porting thing, but at least I knew if she got into a bind, she had that tool in her box.
Since Rae still had enough pastries left to get her through the day, I decided to take the bike rather than the truck. There wouldn't be many more days before the weather would shift from warm to sweltering, so I was gonna enjoy the pleasant conditions as often as I could.
I was relaxed when I pulled into the shop, or at least as much as I could be given the circumstances. Two minutes later, I was wishing I’d stuck to my promise to not go anywhere alone. I was unlocking the door when somebody shoved a burlap bag over my head and punched me in the kidney. Whoever it was spun me around and gave me another to the gut, then smashed my face into their knee and backhanded me, knocking me to the ground.
A hand grasped my hair, yanking my head back, and a male voice growled, "I warned your boyfriend once to forget about the Lane girl, so blame him. This is the last time I'm gonna be nice about it."
I grabbed the arm and managed to scratch him before I took a solid kick to the ribs that knocked the breath out of me. By the time I managed to pull air into my lungs again and pulled the bag off my head, the alley was empty. Again, super-witch powers only worked when I had the ability to focus them. I was pissed at myself because I'd been caught unaware.
Erol was beside himself when I went inside with a bloody face. I was pretty sure the guy had broken my nose, and my lip was busted, too. Hands shaking from the adrenaline and pain, I called Hunter. It wasn't three minutes later that he was opening my door, and I was thankful he had a key, because I was pretty sure I had a cracked rib, too. Moving was painful.
After making sure I didn't have any life-threatening injuries, he grabbed a clean kitchen towel and began gently wiping the blood from my face. "Why were you alone?" he demanded. "You promised!"
"To be honest, I didn't even think about it," I said.
"What if they'd been waiting and ran you off the road on your bike? I mean, this is bad enough, but they could have killed you." I picked up notes of self-recrimination in his voice and squelched down a defensive response.
"You're right," I said. "I didn't think."
Shelby apparated in front of me, her hair whipping behind her as she rushed toward me. Rae wasn't far behind. The three of them fussed over me until they had me mostly cleaned up, then insisted on taking me to the hospital.
Aaron Adams, a guy who Rae had been going out with sporadically over the last few months, was the doctor on duty at the ER. While he was doing his preliminary assessment, Hunter scraped under my fingernails, hoping I'd managed to get some of the guy’s skin when I scratched him.
After doing an ultra-sound on my kidneys and x-raying my ribs, the doc gave me a clean bill of health.
"You're gonna feel like hammered crap for a week or so because your ribs are bruised and you took a beating in general, but you'll live. Take ibuprofen or Tylenol as needed, and do your best not to get in another fight."
"Yeah," I said. "I'll avoid dangerous activities like unlocking my back door. And this wasn't exactly a fight."
I knew I was being rude, but the pain made me touchy.
Addy'd arrived and was hovering over me, stewing, while Erol wrung his hands and wore the same guilty expression Hunter did.
"Knock it off, all of you. This is my own fault. I knew there was a threat, but I didn't take it seriously. Now I am."
"Damned skippy," Addy barked, her eyes sparking with rage. I knew that wasn't targeted at me, or at least not most of it. Woe be to the man who did this if she found him first. Though she didn't have her magic, my Aunt Beth did, and she'd been brushing up, recovering from a self-inflicted magical mental block.
Shelby was always on call, too, and she was not a witch to mess with, despite her age.
Hunter tossed Shelby the keys to his truck since she'd ported there. "You drive her home, and I'll take her bike," he said.
The drive home was brutal, even though Shelby drove as carefully as she could. Every bounce sent daggers of pain through me, and I was grateful when we finally pulled up in front of the house.
Once I was settled and sipping a cup of tea, Raeann plopped herself on the other end of the couch and picked up the remote. I was over having everybody fuss over me and said so. Shelby scowled at me but stepped back, and Hunter, who'd stood on the peripheral after helping me inside, gave me a kiss on the forehead.
"I've got a call in to my friend in Atlanta, but I have to take the evidence to him. Given the circumstances, I'm taking it myself. It's not admissible, but if it's a match to Missy's clothes, I'll find a way to get around it."
"Go on," Raeann said, shooing him off. "You do what you can to catch who did this. I've got her covered. Nobody's getting to her here." She clapped her hands together for effect, and electricity sparked between her hands.
Hunter raised his brows. She was usually the passive one out of all of us, but the look on her face said it all.
Once he was gone, Shelby went outside. When she came back in, she said, "If anybody besides Aunt Beth, Anna Mae, Gabi, or Matt is coming, let them know. The wards I just set will fry anybody besides them who tries to get to the house."
"What about boarders?" I asked. "If somebody wants to come ride, they should be able to."
She shook her head. "I already texted them, and nobody's planning on coming today. I have to get back to the clinic because they're slammed, but if you need me, you both know how to get me in a hurry." She tapped her head, then snapped her fingers and disappeared.