Witch Out of Water

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I agree.” Galen pressed a kiss to the palm of my hand. “We should get moving. You can shower first because you take longer to get ready. I’ll run back to my house and shower and change. Then I’ll pick you up and take you to town for breakfast so we can come up with a plan.”

  I was understandably confused. “We’re coming up with a plan? As in you and me?” I wagged my finger back and forth for emphasis. “We’re doing this together?”

  Galen nodded. “We are.”

  “Is this because you’re worried about leaving me alone in case someone breaks in? If so, let me remind you that I’ve taken care of myself on more than one occasion and I can do it again.”

  “I have no doubt that’s true. You’re still coming with me.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because there’s no way you’re going to stay out of this,” Galen replied without hesitation. “You can’t seem to help yourself from getting involved. I get it. I would like to break you of that inclination, but I know that won’t happen.

  “So, what does that mean?” he continued. “That means you’re my new sidekick. Oh, before you even open your mouth to argue, that wasn’t meant as a sexist statement. I am the sheriff. You’re going to be my assistant on this one. That means you’re essentially my sidekick, and I don’t care if you hate the term.”

  “What … like the Robin to your Batman?”

  Galen nodded. “If you like.”

  “More like the Gus to your Shawn,” I muttered. “Even though everyone knows I should be Shawn.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Only the best television show ever. Psych.”

  “I’ve never seen it. But if you love it that much we can binge it together.” Galen gave me a soft shove with his hand. “Get in the shower. I want you to look pretty when you’re Ethel to my Lucy.”

  He looked so pleased with himself for the reference that I couldn’t hold onto my anger. “You think you’re funny, don’t you? It’s not going to be so funny when my sidekick overshadows your hero.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  “Would you like to place a wager on it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  15

  Fifteen

  I had no idea how a sheriff’s assistant was supposed to dress, so I opted for simple khaki cargo pants and a plain black shirt. Galen ran back to his house long enough to grab a change of clothes, and then we hit one of the diners for breakfast.

  “I think you should’ve dressed in a cape,” he said once our food was delivered. “If you’re going to be a proper sidekick, you need a cape.”

  He was enjoying this far too much. “I’ve decided you’re the sidekick. I’m going to solve this case and allow you to help.”

  He cocked a challenging eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

  “Yup.” I bobbed my head and mashed my over-easy eggs into my hash browns. “It makes the most sense. I have a keen mind for this sort of thing.”

  “Have you worked in the investigative field before?”

  “No. That doesn’t mean I won’t be good at it.”

  “You’re probably right.” Galen leaned back in his seat and gave me a long once-over. “You still should consider a cape. I think you would look cute with it billowing behind you. Maybe a pair of those sexy Wonder Woman boots and a nice bustier to go along with it. Wait … what were we talking about again?”

  I decided to ignore the Wonder Woman comments. “Sherlock Holmes doesn’t wear a cape.”

  “Ah. Does that make me Watson in this little scenario you’ve cooked up?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Good to know.” He shoveled a forkful of pancakes into his mouth and thoughtfully chewed, swallowing before speaking again. “Okay, I’ll play, Sherlock. You’re in charge, so where do you think we should start?”

  I actually expected the question and was ready. “The funeral home.”

  Galen furrowed his brow. “Why? We already know Trish is dead … and how she died. What good will stopping at the funeral home do us?”

  “Because I called Lilac while you were at your house. By the way, I think I should probably see your house at some point, because I wasn’t certain you didn’t live in a box or something until someone mentioned you have a house. Lilac said that Maureen Doyle arrived on the first ferry this morning and was heading straight to the funeral home.”

  Galen’s expression didn’t change. “If you want to see my house you’re more than welcome. I actually prefer visiting the lighthouse, because you’re right on the water and have an outstanding view. My house is boring … and small. You live in a freaking lighthouse. There’s nothing cooler than that.”

  I kind of agreed with him. “Are you talking about the ocean or me being outstanding to view?”

  Galen cracked a smile. “That was cute.”

  “I do my best.”

  “If you’re half as good at investigating as you are at flirting we might make some headway today. As for the funeral home, I still don’t understand why you want to visit. How is Maureen going to help our investigation?”

  “I want to know more about the feud, and she seems to be one of the few who got away.”

  “The feud?”

  “You know … the feud. Wesley told me some about it. He said it started with Trish and Ashley’s grandfathers, who then passed it on to their sons. He also said that Gus and Henry tried to pass the feud on to their daughters, but the girls were sick of it, so they basically ended it on their own terms.”

  “Unless maybe they didn’t,” Galen noted, his expression hard to read. “What do you think Maureen is going to tell you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Gus got really drunk at Lilac’s bar yesterday – that’s where I was before I headed to the cemetery – and he swore he didn’t have an affair with Barbie Conner despite what the Moonstone Bay rumor mill claims.”

  “If Gus was drunk, how do you know he was telling the truth?”

  I shrugged. That was a fair question. “I don’t know. He seemed sincere. He was really upset.”

  “His daughter is dead.”

  “He didn’t seem as if he was making up stories,” I offered. “He never slipped up even though he was so drunk Lilac had to call someone to help pour him into a cab. If he was lying, don’t you think he would have slipped up?”

  “I guess.” Galen ate some more, his mind clearly busy. “I guess we can go to the funeral home. It’s actually not a bad idea.”

  I tried to refrain from being too smug. “Great.”

  “I don’t want you to get your hopes up. Maureen might have nothing to give us.”

  “We won’t know until we ask.” I was prim and proper as I ate. “Besides that, I’m just getting started as Sherlock. This is only the beginning.”

  Galen snorted. “You make me laugh. No matter what, you always make me laugh. Perhaps you’re the Jay to my Silent Bob.”

  I frowned. “I prefer Sherlock and Watson.”

  “Well, for now I’ll give it to you. Finish up your breakfast and then we’ll head to the funeral home. Even if we don’t get anything from Maureen, I’m convinced you’ll get a kick out of meeting Jareth.”

  “Who is Jareth?”

  “Jareth Kern. He owns the funeral home. He’s a little … different.”

  Since everyone on Moonstone Bay was different in my book, I wasn’t particularly worried. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “We’ll see if you still believe that in an hour.”

  JARETH KERN WAS NOT what I expected. Sure, I hadn’t spent much time in funeral homes – my mother was the only one close to me who died and I was an infant at the time so I didn’t remember her service – but I had a pretty good idea what a funeral home director should be like.

  I pictured him to be in his fifties, clad in a well-tailored suit, with slicked-back hair and a kindly expression. Instead I found a man who looked to be in h
is late thirties, was ghastly pale, and wore what I could only assume was a polyester-blend suit straight from the rack of some discount mall.

  “Oh, you must be Hadley Hunter,” Jareth enthused as we walked through the door of Eternal Twilight Funeral Home (seriously, that was the name, and I don’t think it was meant to be ironic). He extended his hand and gripped mine before I had a chance to react to the gesture on my own terms. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’m so glad we could finally meet.”

  His hand was unbelievably cold, like, so cold I couldn’t help but worry about his circulation. “Oh, well, I’m happy to meet you, too.” I stared at his skin, marveling at the way the prominent veins spread like spider webs in certain spots. “I wish we could’ve met under happier circumstances.”

  “Oh, there’s nothing happier than a death,” Jareth said with a straight face. “Death is only the beginning, after all.”

  “Right.” I tugged my hand back and instinctively moved closer to Galen in an effort to absorb some of his warmth. I was unbelievably cold after the brief skin contact. “I … um … this is a nice place.”

  Jareth beamed. “I like it.”

  Galen slid me a sidelong look, something unsaid lurking in the depths of his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  How could I answer that? There was no polite way to say that Jareth gave me the creeps. Or that I was afraid to look too deeply into his eyes because I was sure monsters lived there. “I’m fine,” I replied hurriedly. “I’m … fine.”

  Galen didn’t look convinced. “You don’t look fine.” He flicked his eyes to Jareth. “Did you do something to her?”

  Jareth squared his shoulders. “Of course not! What a thing to ask.”

  “She’s off her game,” Galen persisted. “You did something to her.”

  “What do you think he did to me?” I was confused. “He simply shook my hand.”

  “Did you look in his eyes?” Galen refused to back down. “Did you make eye contact with him?”

  “I … don’t … know.” That was true. The more I tried to capture the memory, the more I couldn’t remember looking into his eyes, even though it seemed that would be the normal thing to do. “Why does it matter?”

  Galen pinned Jareth with a dark look. “I want you to knock it off. I’m serious. I mean … like, deathly serious. She’s not used to all this. I know you like playing your games, but … stop it.”

  “Oh, fine.” Jareth made a tsking sound with his tongue and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. At that exact moment I felt as if the cloud that had invaded my mind – and wrapped around my heart – dissipated. “There’s no reason to get worked up. I was merely testing her.”

  “Testing me?” I was baffled. “Why would you test me?”

  “Because May worked up an immunity to my powers, and I wanted to see if you were capable of the same.”

  “Immunity. I … .” I looked to Galen for reassurance. “What’s going on?”

  “There’s no reason to get upset.” Galen’s tone was conciliatory, soothing. “It’s just, well, Jareth likes to sow his oats sometimes. That’s what he was doing now. He won’t do it again. I promise.” Galen turned a pointed stare to Jareth. “Tell her you won’t do it again.”

  “Good grief.” Jareth’s easy smile had completely vanished. “Is that what you want to hear? I won’t do it again. Stop being a killjoy.”

  Galen rubbed his hands up and down my arms. “Better?”

  That was an interesting question. “I guess. What did he do?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He won’t do it again.”

  “But … what is he?” I asked the question even though I knew it would most likely come off as rude. Given whatever Jareth did to tick off Galen, I figured we were well past pretending to be polite. “I mean … what are you?”

  Jareth held his hands out and shrugged. “What are any of us?”

  I didn’t like his evasive answer and turned my full attention to Galen. “What is he?”

  Galen pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, frustration evident. “He’s a vampire.”

  Son of a … ! I didn’t see that coming. “Are you serious? Vampires are real, too?”

  Galen shrugged. “Did you think shifters and witches were the only storybook creatures that were real?”

  “No. I thought mermaids existed, too.”

  Galen chuckled. “The world is bigger than you think, Hadley. There’s a lot for you to see yet. That’s the beauty of Moonstone Bay.”

  I cast a wary look at Jareth. He wasn’t particularly beautiful. “I’m watching you.” I extended a warning finger so he would be well aware of exactly how serious I was. “Now … where is Maureen Doyle? We need to talk to her.”

  If Jareth was taken aback by the shift in my demeanor he didn’t show it. “She’s in the parlor.” He crooked his arm in my direction. “Would you like me to lead you in?”

  Not in this lifetime. “I think I’m good.”

  “I think she is, too.” Galen put his hand to the small of my back and graced Jareth with a warning look. “Take us to Maureen. As for the rest, we’ll talk about that later.”

  Jareth’s smile slipped. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Because you’re not an idiot, despite the way you just acted.”

  “Maureen is this way. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see a friendly face.”

  MAUREEN DOYLE WAS INDEED relieved to see a friendly face. She hopped to her feet when Galen swaggered into the room, paying me no mind as she threw her arms around his neck and began to sob against his chest.

  “Please tell me you know who killed my daughter, Galen.”

  My heart clenched as the woman openly sobbed, Galen calmly rubbing her back as he attempted to soothe her. “I’m not happy about why you’re here, Maureen, but I am glad to see you.” Galen eased back so he could study the woman’s face. “We have a few things to talk about.”

  “Of course.” Maureen made room for Galen next to her on the couch, keeping her full attention on him and leaving me to sit on the matching sofa across the way. I tried not to cringe when Jareth sat next to me. “What do you know about Trish’s death, Galen? I need to know who killed my daughter.”

  “Well, Ashley Conner is in custody and the prosecutor is charging her,” Galen started.

  “Ashley Conner?” Maureen’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. “That can’t be right. Those girls were friends for years … like, real friends. They weren’t hanging out just to drive Gus and Henry crazy, no matter what those two idiots thought.”

  “They got in a fight the day Trish was killed.”

  “About?”

  “My understanding is that it was about a man they were both seeing.” Galen was obviously uncomfortable as he shifted on the couch. “I don’t believe either relationship was serious.”

  Maureen pursed her lips. “I don’t understand. Why were they dating the same guy?”

  “I don’t think ‘dating’ is the right word.” Galen’s discomfort clearly rose with each word. “It was Booker.”

  “Booker?” Maureen was astonished. “You can’t be serious. Those girls threw away their friendship on Booker? The man is notorious for sleeping around. I mean … that’s all he does.”

  “He looks good doing it, though,” Jareth muttered, taking on a far-off expression, which only served to confuse me.

  “The prosecutor is convinced that Ashley killed Trish, but I’m not sure that’s true,” Galen admitted. “The thing is, even though Trish and Ashley were angry with each other, Ashley looked genuinely shaken when she realized what had happened. She’s also not the type to kill someone over one fight.

  “Of course, I could be wrong,” he continued. “I’m going to continue my investigation, even though that’s not what the prosecutor’s office wants.”

  “I agree with you about Ashley.” Maureen was matter-of-fact. “The girl wasn’t allowed in our home for obvious reasons, but she was always pleasant and fun to be around when I
did have the occasion to spend time with her at a public event. Maybe it’s just that I don’t want to believe she’s capable of killing Trish, but I would like you to continue looking.”

  “That’s the plan.” Galen lightly tapped her hand as he debated how to proceed. “I have some questions to ask you about the feud.”

  “Oh, geez.” Maureen made a disgusted face. “I’m so sick of hearing about that feud. That feud ruined my marriage and stole my child from me. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I had no idea what she meant by that, but I was intrigued.

  “We have to talk about it.” Galen was firm. “Hadley talked to Gus at the bar yesterday. He got blitzed and was blathering on about a variety of things. He claims that he did not have an affair with Barbie Conner. While I don’t like speculating about idle gossip, I always heard that was the reason your marriage broke up. Can you enlighten me?”

  Maureen’s face remained blank. “Who is Hadley?”

  Galen gestured toward me. “She’s helping me in a freelance capacity. She’s May Potter’s granddaughter. I … she was with me when Trish’s body was discovered and wants to help me find out the truth.”

  “I see.”

  And, because she very clearly didn’t see, I averted my eyes.

  “I need to know the truth about why your marriage ended,” Galen prodded. “It might be important.”

  “I understand. It’s just that I promised Gus I’d never speak about it.”

  “I don’t think you have a choice.”

  “Probably not.” Maureen brushed her hair back. “Okay, here it is. Gus and Barbie weren’t having the affair. I always thought Gus had a thing for Barbie – was even jealous a time or two when I thought she was throwing herself at him – but he swore up and down I was imagining things.

  “I got so worked up at an Elks party one night that I ended up drinking with Henry,” she continued. “He thought the same thing I did. We had a few too many drinks and one thing led to the next … I’m sure you can figure out how things went.”

  I was officially horrified. “You slept with Henry?”