by C Farren
“By the way, what is your real second name?” Wren asked. “Is Fiona even your real name?”
Fiona tapped her nose. “That would be telling.”
The angel looked like a Fiona. The name suited her.
“Wait...does that mean I’m living here with you now?” Fiona asked.
“I suppose,” said Wren. “I do have the room.”
Why did I spend the compensation money on buying a house with so many rooms? It’s just asking for trouble!
“Do you want to live with me?” Wren asked.
“I have my own apartment in Golden, but for the sake of the police and everyone else in town I’ll be living here.” Fiona smiled. “So, there we have it. My story is all sorted out. It’s tragic and weird but it’ll have to do.”
Wren took a sip of her coffee, watching Fiona closely. She wasn’t your typical angel. Then again, she hadn’t thought angels were real until this pint-sized loudmouth turned up.
“For some reason I expected angels to be tall and hunky,” said Wren, feeling embarrassed.
“Some of them are,” said Fiona dreamily.
Wren grinned, hoping to hear some juicy gossip. “Is there someone you’ve got your eye on? You can tell me anything you know.”
“He’s called Brock, and we’ve known each other a long time.” She pulled at her hair and Wren slapped at her hand to make her stop. It was a habit her father had. It drove her crazy. “He’s tall and muscular and has thick blonde hair and he’s sort of my best friend and he has no idea that I like him.”
“Tell him how you feel,” Wren suggested.
Fiona shook her head. “What if I ruin our friendship? I don’t have many friends, you know.”
Wren smiled warmly. “You have one more now.”
Brock sounded like the perfect physical specimen. She couldn’t wait to meet him.
“Anyway, I’m not here to talk about my love life,” said Fiona, deftly changing the subject. “My job is to find you a boyfriend and a life.”
“I doubt Jordan will have time for romance now,” said Wren with a sigh. “Then again, romance wasn’t what I had in mind with Jordan.”
She smirked, her imagination wandering to all sorts of naughty places.
“When was the last time you had a serious relationship?” Fiona asked.
This wasn’t a hard question for Wren to ponder. The answer made her feel like the most pathetic woman in the whole world.
“I have never been in a serious relationship,” Wren admitted, her face going a deep red. “Not since Alex, and you probably know how that turned out.”
“I do,” said Fiona sadly. “But you mustn’t let one disaster get in the way of you being happy.”
Wren pondered this for a while but talk of Alex just made her feel more miserable than she already was. Besides, what right had they to talk of such trivial things when someone Garrett was dead?
She noticed a letter on the table.
“Dad must have brought the post in before he left,” she said, opening the envelope. Inside was a card with a cute ginger cat on the front. It was from Cedric, the message reading, “Loved our date. Hope we can try again some time.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. She’d walked out on him and humiliated him and he still wanted more? Was he a glutton for punishment or did he truly have feelings for her?
“We only went on one date,” she mused. “He can’t have fallen for me. Even I know I’m not that adorable.”
“Cedric lives in Snowflake Bay,” said Fiona. “You’ve probably seen him hundreds of times over the years, right?”
“I guess, but we never talked or anything.”
“Perhaps you should give him a second chance. He is a successful businessman, with his windows and doors business. You could be happy.”
“No, I did the right thing. Cedric is not the guy for me. Besides, I’m not sure I can think about dating right now. All I see in my head is Garrett.”
“It was a trauma, though I’ve seen worse, especially...”
Fiona was quiet for a moment, and Wren suddenly had a revelation; to become an angel you had to die, right? How did Fiona die, or was it something you didn’t talk about with angels?
“Anyway, I think I’m going to go for a nap,” said Wren. “Today has been...long. Very long.”
“We have statements to make to the police,” Fiona reminded her.
“Are you my secretary as well as my angel?” Wren snapped. Fiona looked hurt for a moment. “Sorry.”
“Maybe we both need a quick nap. I’ll wake you in two hours.”
Wren smiled. “Thanks.”
FIONA FINISHED HER coffee as Wren went upstairs to bed. She wasn’t sure what to do next. Her mission was a simple one at first, but now it was twisting and turning in all sorts of gruesome directions. She should really leave and then never come back, but that would put Wren in trouble.
“What do I do?” she whispered.
Chapter 10
“What do I do?” Fiona asked despondently.
Juniper regarded her icily. “Are you seriously considering abandoning your charge to the fates?”
Juniper could read her like a book. That’s exactly what she’d been contemplating. She’d never been involved with a murder before. She could handle German bombs but not something so calculated and evil.
“No, it’s just that I wasn’t sure how involved to get,” Fiona explained. Her wings felt agitated. “I was just supposed to sort her life out and leave. That’s how it always works. I knew this assignment would be different, knowing who Wren is, but I didn’t expect there to be a horrible murder!”
“The murder was quite awful, I must admit. But you’ve seen worse. You saw a lot of things in London when you were a nurse during the Blitz. I didn’t think a tiny head wound would faze you.”
“It did. It fazed me a lot.”
She stood, knocking her chair to the floor. This conversation was pointless. She already knew what she had to do. She could never abandon Wren now, not when she was so vulnerable. It would be tricky, trying to juggle all the lies, but it was only for a short while. Once Garrett’s murder was solved, things would cool down and she could get down to the task of guiding Wren to the life she was meant to have.
What if Garrett’s murder never gets solved?
Juniper sighed. “What’s wrong now?”
“Nothing,” Fiona lied. “I think I’m going to go back to my apartment and have a long think.”
“Don’t take too long,” Juniper cautioned her. “You know what humans are like. Their lives can spiral fast.”
On the wall behind Fiona was golden framed photographs of all Juniper’s charges over the years. There weren’t many. Juniper was very picky when it came to choosing angels. She wanted so badly to be one of those photos. She had to be a fully-fledged angel with all the powers that entailed.
WREN WAS WOKEN FROM a dream about Jordan by her cellphone. She sat up, her neck sore, and looked at the clock on the wall. She’d only been asleep an hour. Still, she felt rested, despite the nightmares.
It was Keegan.
“Don’t you have a job to do?” she asked him. She stretched out on her bed. Gracie was sitting in the window nook, keeping watch on the neighborhood.
“I’m freaking out!” Keegan shouted. He lowered his voice an octave and cleared his throat. “This is a murder! An actual murder!”
“You must have known something like this might happen eventually, even in a small town like this.”
“I don’t know what to think. I...” He paused before adding, “I’ve found myself using skills I’ve never thought I’d get to use. I’ve helped look around the crime scene for clues and interviewed suspects. You need to come in and make a statement by the way.” She grimaced as he continued. “I’ve even done some fingerprint analysis, though the results haven’t yet come back from the state database. The technology we have at the local station is a little out of date.”
She allowed him to rabbit on
like this for another five minutes. He’d gone from freaking out to hyper enthusiastic in very quick time.
“Sorry for going on,” he said. “Am I...am I sickened by this or excited? Am I a bad person if it’s both?”
“You trained to be a police officer. You’re finally getting to use some of that training. It’s okay to be excited.”
He laughed nervously. “I suppose you’re right. Anyway, I better get back to it. Dad’s giving me the stink eye. Remember you and that mysterious woman need to make a statement. If you can’t face it today, then tomorrow morning will be fine. Just don’t leave it too long.”
He hung up, not giving her a chance to spin more lies about Fiona. Wren was happy for him. He really did love his job, and that meant the killer would be found that much quicker.
What if Keegan is a rubbish detective?
She pushed that treacherous notion aside. Keegan was smart. She had faith in him.
“I better get down to the station,” she said to her cat. “Don’t go having any wild parties while I’m gone, will you?”
Gracie gave her a disgusted look, as if to say she’d never do such a thing. Wren wasn’t sure. Other cats had been in the house before other than the ones Gracie played with in the back garden. If Gracie didn’t want them in, she’d attack them, and she could be a mean cat when she got territorial.
WREN READ OVER HER statement for a third time, satisfied with her version of events. There really wasn’t much to say. She’d been too shell-shocked to notice any clues or details around the crime scene.
“I still can’t believe he died like that,” Wren admitted.
The other deputies were sat at their desks, still as white as sheets. Wren couldn’t blame them. She still felt a little queasy herself.
“It’s weird how he died like that,” Wren pondered, watching with curiosity as the sheriff read over her statement. “He must have been pushed really hard to make such a dent in the coffee machine.”
“We found a another smaller wound on his skull,” said the sheriff. “He was hit with something else and then fell into the coffee machine. It rules out an accident. We found the tips jar on the floor. We think they used that. It’s made of solid metal so it could well be used as a weapon.”
“Are you sure it’s Garrett?” said Wren. She waited impatiently for the sheriff to finish. He was a very slow reader. “I mean I didn’t really get a look at his body other than to note he was wearing the same clothes Garrett was wearing yesterday. Could it be the victim isn’t Garrett?”
One of the deputies rushed off to the bathroom.
“I’ve known Garrett all my life,” stated the sheriff, eyes not leaving his statement. Wren didn’t think it was that enthralling. Why was he taking so long? “He has a tattoo of a moth on his right wrist. I was with him when he got it. It’s him.” He looked up at her, face serious. He’d been crying.
“I’m sorry,” said Wren. “I know you were friends.”
“I trusted that man with my life.”
“Then you’re the best person to look into this.”
His words were grave. “And when I find out who did it, I’m not taking any prisoners.”
Wren shivered a little. The look in the sheriff’s eyes terrified her. He was a man to be reckoned with. She wouldn’t like to get on his bad side.
“That will be all,” said the sheriff.
As she was leaving she passed Fiona. She was talking animatedly to Keegan. They both burst out laughing.
“What’s the joke?” Wren asked.
“I’d forgotten what a filthy mind Fiona had,” said Keegan. His smile was wide. It was cute. “I’ve missed her.”
Wren was confused. As far as she knew Keegan and Fiona had never met. Why was he acting like they were two long lost friends?
“We’ll catch up later,” Keegan told her, walking away.
Wren needed a moment to compose herself. It felt like she’d just slipped into another dimension. What was going on?
Fiona smiled sweetly. “He’s such a good guy. You know he’s the first queer person I’ve ever met? Wait, is it okay to say queer? They used to say that, and some other choice phrases, back in my time.”
“I don’t understand this,” said Wren. “Why does he know you?”
“I’m not entirely sure. When I walked in he stared at me for what felt like an eternity and something came over him. He acted like we used to be friends but hadn’t seen each other in a while. I just went along with it.”
“Very strange indeed.”
“Anyway, I’m here to make my statement. Wish me luck.”
Wren left her to it, still confused about the whole thing.
A TEARY-EYED JORDAN was waiting for her outside her house. She considered walking away, pretending he didn’t exist, but he looked vulnerable. She might be the only person he had left to talk to.
“Can I come in?” he asked. “I need to be with someone right now.”
The meaning of the words ‘be with someone’ was not lost on Wren.
“You’re grieving,” she said. “You don’t want this.”
He brought his mouth to her lips. Wren smiled.
“WAKE UP!” A VOICE CALLED.
Wren pulled herself from her slumber. Her muscles ached and she was lying half off the bed, her head staring at the carpet.
“What are you doing here?” Wren asked, pulling a sheet around herself. She couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.
“I was waiting for Jordan to leave,” said Fiona. “You’ve been at it all night. It’s almost six o’clock the next morning!”
Wren smirked wickedly. “He left?”
“He snuck out of here like a guilty cat.” Fiona crossed her arms. “I’m disappointed in you. How could you use him like that? His father was murdered yesterday! He’s vulnerable!”
“He wanted me. Who was I to deny the wishes of a grieving man?”
Even to me those words make me sound like an awful human being.
“Let me get dressed,” said Wren.
Fiona stormed out and slammed the door behind her.
WREN FOUND A SULKY Fiona sat at the kitchen table, twiddling with her hair, stroking Gracie. She refused to feel guilty. Maybe she had used Jordan, but he’d used her too. They’d needed each other.
“Why are you being so weird?” Wren asked.
“Nothing is going as I planned,” Fiona admitted. “I didn’t expect there to be a murder. This complicates things.”
“I’m sure the police can handle it,” said Wren. “Keegan studied criminology at community college.”
Even then she had her doubts. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a murder in Snowflake Bay. There’d been a hit and run once, and maybe an accidental death, but not a cold-blooded murder. What with the recent spate of burglaries the SBPD must be worked off their feet.
She sat down and poured herself a cup of coffee. She needed the caffeine.
“Are you and Jordan an item now?” Fiona asked.
“I have no idea,” Wren answered.
“And what about your new job?”
“I assume I don’t have one, not now the owner is dead.”
Wren felt a little ashamed at herself for the joke. She was jubilant after her romp with Jordan. If she could get a young stud like him to go to bed with her then the world was at her fingertips.
“I’m being an idiot,” said Wren.
“What do you mean?” Fiona asked.
“He just used me to smother his own grief,” said Wren. “He’s not into me at all. I could’ve been anybody.”
“But he came to you. That’s important.”
She wasn’t so sure about that. Perhaps the only reason he came to her was because she was the only one he could find at that moment in time. Still, a tiny, confident part of her screamed that he wanted her and only her. She only wished that part was the dominant one. She’s learned the hard way not to be too optimistic.
“So, about the murder,” Fiona announce
d. “I have a plan.”
“Why would you have a plan about the murder?” Wren asked. She had a sudden disquieting thought. “Wait, did you murder Garrett?”
“Of course not!” Fiona screamed, her tone appalled. “Why would you even ask such a thing?”
“Sorry, sorry.”
Fiona was about to answer when the front door slammed shut. Wren tensed. She hadn’t told her father yet about Fiona. What would he say? As far as he was concerned, she’d never mentioned a friend called Fiona before.
“Terrible weather,” said Wick. “Thank goodness I have a warm bed to sleep in now!” He looked at Fiona and smiled again. “Good morning!”
“Morning, Wick,” said Fiona.
Wren looked back and forth between the two of them. “When did you two meet?”
“Things happen when you’re not around,” said her father. He took his coat off and hung it on the old-fashioned coat rack near the back door. “I thought I’d go for a nice walk. Clear my head.”
He smiled at them both and made a hasty exit.
“Was he acting shifty to you?” Wren asked, concerned.
“Why would he be acting shifty?” said Fiona. She was spreading some sort of black stuff onto her toast. It smelled awful. “He’s just been out for a walk, that’s all.”
Wren picked up a small jar off the table. It was labelled ‘Marmite.’
“What’s this?” Wren asked. She stuck her finger in the jar and had a lick. She almost gagged. “It tastes like diapers!”
“I got a taste for it when I was stationed in London,” Fiona explained.
“When were you in London?”
Fiona shrugged and ate her toast. Wren sat down at the table, her mind going back to her father. Had he really been out for a walk?
“Dad’s in debt to some loan shark,” Wren explained. “He said he had it sorted though.”
“Loan shark?” Fiona exclaimed. “This is serious!”
“I know.”
“I know an angel in Heaven who was murdered by a loan shark! You can’t be too careful with these people!”