by C. T. Phipps
Should I tell my father? Tell him what—I have a bad feeling about this? My mother? Maybe. “Dad, where’s Mom?”
“Off,” John said.
“Off?” I asked.
“Off,” He repeated. “Shaman things.”
“Oh joy,” I said, knowing that meant she could be anywhere from the middle of the woods to selling scented candles at a party.
I went back to work instead.
As Jeanine’s and my shift finally came to an end, I was pretty tired on my feet and debated going out back to change so I could regain my energy. A rainstorm had already been going for the better part of an hour, though, so I didn’t want to. You’d think being part-wild animal I wouldn’t mind getting wet, but it turned out weredeer really resented thunderstorms.
Heading to punch my time card—weird with a mostly family business—I watched the backdoor open up and my soaked best friend run through the door. Emma O’Henry was about six inches taller than me and gorgeous in the same way my sister was, except with bright-crimson-red hair.
Emma was wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts and an open flannel shirt over a House Stark shirt my brother had given her. A little silver locket was hanging around her neck in the shape of a wolf. I, personally, had never seen the need to advertise my animal type to the world. I was about to greet her warmly when I noticed she looked horrified. Her makeup was smeared and her eyes teary.
I blinked. “What’s wrong?”
My father looked over at us. “Are you okay, Emma?”
Emma grabbed me in a hug. “It’s terrible. I came here right away.”
“Eh?” I said, wondering why I was the crisis person all of a sudden before remembering my earlier bad feeling. “What’s happened?”
“My sister has been murdered. They’re looking at your brother.”
Okay.
Crap.
Chapter Two
I took a moment to process what she was saying. “What?”
My father looked like he was about to explode before his cellphone rang and he checked it. Picking it up, he started talking. “Judy? Yes, I just heard from Emma. I’ll be right down to the station.”
“The sheriff’s office?” I asked stupidly. I was too gobsmacked by the news to react.
“Can you close down the store?” John asked and didn’t wait for my reaction before grabbing his keys and jacket then heading out the door.
“Uh…” I started to say, then took a deep breath.
Emma gave me another hug. “This is awful.”
I pushed her away. “Oh hell no, you don’t get to say your family is accusing my brother of murder and then give me hugs. This isn’t a dented car.”
“Victoria is dead!” Emma said, looking about ready to burst into tears again and I felt like crap for pushing her away.
It took a second to orient my brain and process the information that had flooded it in the past few seconds. My brother was many things, but he wasn’t a killer. Hell, he’d probably have trouble taking me in a fight, and not just because weredeer were surprisingly strong even in human form. He was a weird introverted goth kid who hung around with a bunch of losers while talking shit about the royals and, oh my god, I just explained why he was a suspect. No, it couldn’t be that easy, could it?
“I’m sorry,” I said, giving Emma a hug and patting her on the back as I tried to muster up any sort of sympathy for Victoria O’Henry. All I could think about was the time she’d blabbed to the entire school how Lisa Marsh of the abstinence league was actually a lesbian, causing her to try to overdose on pills. Thankfully, she’d gotten the help she needed and her parents had done a one-eighty on being bigoted assholes.
Emma pulled away, sniffing. “Listen, I know you didn’t always get along—”
“No, it’s cool,” I said, pushing down my feelings. “Victoria was a human being and a shifter. Also, your family. But you have to understand, I’m not worried about that right now. Why do they think Jeremy killed her?”
He only had a job because our parents owned the place, but that was far from the kind of person who would kill somebody. I mean, yeah, he wore a lot of black and had a bad attitude, but that was a red herring in mystery fiction. I mean, he barely knew Victoria, right? She was my archnemesis rather than his.
Emma grabbed a couple of napkins off the countertop then wiped off her face. “He was the one who found the body and they were seeing each other.”
Mind blown.
I blinked. “Jeremy was seeing Victoria?”
“Yeah,” Emma said, looking down at the ground. “For a few months now. I was looking for the right time to tell you.”
“How about never,” I muttered.
Emma frowned.
“Sorry!” I said. “Still letting all of this sink in.”
Both my siblings had a major love for the O’Henrys, it seemed. Then again, Emma was my bestie, so maybe there was a weird predator-and-prey thing going on.
“They were keeping it secret,” Emma said, her voice changing in pitch as if she couldn’t quite manage her emotions. “Father doesn’t approve of inter-clan relationships. He just barely tolerated Brad and Jeanine’s because he was still negotiating a proper marriage for him.”
Ouch. Well, that was going to put a crimp on my sister’s plans for becoming Mrs. O’Henry. Marcus O’Henry owned Bright Falls and nothing happened in the city without his say-so, even marriages between shapeshifters. Wait, what was I talking about? I needed to focus on what was important. “Why did you come to me, though?”
If it was just because we were friends and she needed my help, I would be there for her. Still, I needed to get the diner shut down and join my father down at the sheriff’s office. Clara O’Henry was going to throw the book at my brother. She was the “hanging judge” of the town, even if she wasn’t a judge, and worse, she’d just found out her niece had been killed. If I were her, I’d want to strangle the first person who looked guilty.
“I came to you because you know things,” Emma said, taking a deep breath.
“Know things?” I repeated. “Oh, you mean my Gift?”
“Yes!” Emma said. “You can figure out anything. I once saw you deduce who was cheating on whom at the homecoming dance just by looking at everyone’s pictures with their date.”
That had actually just been guesswork. Though, admittedly, I had turned out to be right with everyone. “You want me to use my psychometry? To what, solve Victoria’s murder?”
“I know your brother would never hurt anyone, especially Victoria! I was hoping you’d help me solve her murder so we can make sure her soul rests in peace.”
“Her ghost,” I said, stunned by her request. “I’m not a police officer, Emma. I pick up things like spitting in my coffee and money troubles. I don’t know anything about solving real-life crimes.”
Psychic and magical examinations of evidence were inadmissible in court due to the fact they still hadn’t worked out a way to separate the frauds from the real deal with most supernaturals. Vampires and werewolves turning into animals were easy to regulate, you could see that, but things like my Gift weren’t one hundred percent accurate.
For example, I’d seen myself dating Bobby Horne because I’d desperately wanted to. My vision “felt” right and it had turned out the only thing he’d wanted from me was sex in the backseat of his car. Not my finest hour as a soothsayer. Not even hiding his five hundred-dollar leather jacket in the woods had made me feel better.
Emma gave me a wide-eyed puppy stare. “Please.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Wait, you really want me to read her corpse or something?”
“Or her car keys or something,” Emma said, shrugging. “Isn’t that what you do?”
Technically, Emma was correct, but that wasn’t something I’d ever relied upon in order to solve a murder. I could pick up impressions of objects and the emotions of those who last held them, but I didn’t want to feel whatever psycho had killed Victoria.
&
nbsp; Still, my brother was in trouble. “I’ll do it.”
“Super,” Emma said, hugging me for a third time.
I hugged her back. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”
I didn’t have any platitudes or sympathy to give her. I was supposed to be a shaman-in-training for the Cervid clan, but I didn’t know much about the afterlife, souls, or how to counsel people. If my mother was here, she would have not only described the Underwood but named each and every ancestor that would come to greet Victoria.
I’d never been particularly religious and the whole concept was a bit beyond me. I believed in gods, ghosts, and spirits because my family did—not because I had any real attachment to them. My brother had called me a meh-theist. I preferred ‘part-time spiritual.’
Emma pulled away and looked guilty for a second. “I’m sorry about your brother too.”
“Nothing permanent has happened to him,” I said, looking at the door. “I hope. Will you help me shut this place down?”
“Sure,” Emma said, taking a deep breath.
I bit my lip, trying to figure out how to ask my next question. “I hate to ask this, but do you know anything about when this all happened?”
“Not much,” Emma said, thankfully not taking offense. “She was found in Bright Falls Woods a few hours ago.”
“Why the hell would they think my brother was involved?” I said, looking at her. “I mean, aside from the fact he was carrying on with Victoria?”
I managed to just barely suppress a horribly mean remark: Which goes to show he has no taste. I still hadn’t quite adjusted to the fact Victoria was dead and never coming back. I’d hated her, but I didn’t want her dead. Hell, I didn’t want anyone dead, save maybe those jackasses in Washington who called for shifters to be banned from human schools and registered like sex offenders. Those were the moderates too.
“He’s the one who found the body,” Emma said, taking a deep breath. “Also, she died last night, at a time when he didn’t have an alibi.”
I tried to think about what my brother was doing for most of the night and realized I had no idea. He was a year older than me and barely spent any time at home anymore. Most of the time he slept over at friends’ houses or stayed at the family cabin. It was frustrating, as I would have lied for him in an instant. Weird that I felt good about realizing that. It made me know I valued my family to the point of criminal behavior.
“Damn,” I said, hoping the sheriff didn’t have anything more.
Emma looked guilty. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find out more, but Clara didn’t even talk to me. She was too busy riding herd on my grandfather and aunts. Aunt Alice is preparing a press statement so it doesn’t reflect on the family.”
“What about your parents?” I asked. They were both lawyers whose only clients were the O’Henry family. Sort of like the mob.
“Dad is in Washington,” Emma said, frowning. “He didn’t take the news well when he heard it, and he assaulted someone in wolfman form. They’re currently holding him in prison. Thankfully, Washington D.C. isn’t a varmint state, and he’s offered the cops a lot of money to let him go. He should be back tomorrow.”
“Go bribery,” I said, sympathetic. “What about your mom?”
“Rebecca took a bunch of pills and is sleeping off a bottle of gin,” Emma said, scrunching up her nose. “She’ll let grandfather handle the investigation and funeral.”
Yikes.
Emma and I came from fundamentally different families. Not just because I was from the middle class and she was the kind of girl who would carry around a dog in a purse if not for the fact it was probably a relative. Her family just didn’t operate the same way mine did. There was some care and love in Emma’s family, but on a very real level, they were strangers. I was honestly glad Victoria had someone to stick up for her post-mortem.
“Yeah, well,” I said, looking at the kitchen. “Let’s get to work.”
It took longer than I wanted to get everyone out of the Deerlightful and shut everything down, especially those people who weren’t going to get their meals but we did it. Honestly, I hated the fact I was being treated this way by my family. I wanted to be there with Jeremy too, in part so I could find out what the hell he was thinking dating Victoria, but only after we’d cleared his name and found the real culprits.
Heading out the backdoor to the parking lot, I looked at the remaining cars in the lot and saw two. The first was a bright-red Ferrari that was a couple of years old but Emma still thought it wasn’t an impressive graduation Gift. The second was the Millennium Falcon, which was what I called my old busted-up green 2001 Hummer. I’d gotten the Falcon as a hand-me-down when Grandpa Jacob had died. Well, not so poor, as the Old Buck had been ninety-seven but looking sixty-five. He’d died because his heart had given out during an intimate situation I’d really rather not have known about.
“Let’s take your car!” Emma said cheerfully.
I stared at her. “You’re serious?”
“It’s awesome!” Emma said, clapping her hands like a little girl. “You know, because it’s safe and all. Because if a car hit it, that other car would be trashed.”
I stared at her. “It gets about a mile to the gallon and I only drive it between here, school, and home. Everything else I walk or take the bus doing. You, by contrast, drive a Ferrari. If it’s about driving, I totally wouldn’t mind doing so.”
“It’s so different from the kind of car my family drives! It’s roomy!”
“It’s different because it’s twenty years old!” I snapped.
“Please!” Emma’s sad-puppy face was irresistible.
“Okay, fine, we can take my car.” I sighed. There was something weird about the way Emma seemed to see things I owned (because I couldn’t afford better) as inherently cooler than things that her money could buy.
“Thanks,” Emma said, frowning. “I don’t like driving around in mine today.”
“Why?”
“It was Victoria’s Sweet Sixteen present before Dad got it replaced because she wanted a white one.”
Sometimes there were no words. I was about to get into the driver’s seat when I heard a voice nearby. “Hey, Jane, wait a minute.”
I grimaced and looked over to see a lanky, gray-hoodie-wearing nineteen year old with pale skin and raven-black hair. He wasn’t bad looking, but there was something about Rudy Stone that made me uncomfortable. He was my brother’s best friend and someone I’d thought was just a human being until his sister had spontaneously developed the power to be a wereraven.
“I’m kind of busy now, Rudy,” I said, not at all happy to have him present.
Everyone had that friend of their siblings they felt was a bad influence or just bothered them. In Rudy’s case, it was because the guy was an enormous creep. In addition to being addicted to drugs that seemed a good deal harder than pot, I once caught him trying to plant a camera in the girls’ locker room. Jeremy hadn’t believed me and it had led to our only serious fight. It was hard enough to believe he’d be interested in Victoria, but I just flat out did not understand his friendship with Rudy.
“Is it true Jeremy killed Victoria?” Rudy said, walking up.
“No, he’s innocent,” I said, glaring at him. “As you should know.”
“If he did kill her, it was justified,” Rudy said, smiling. “Victoria was a bitch.”
Emma growled and walked toward him. “You piece of—”
I grabbed her by the arm. “He isn’t worth it, Emma.”
“You should smile more, Jane,” Rudy said. “You might finally get a boyfriend if you did.”
I stared at him. “Are you literally every douchebag cliché rolled into one?”
“It’s a bad moon,” Rudy said, pointing to me then Emma. “A very bad moon. You need to watch yourself.”
Rudy then turned around and walked away, raising his hoodie and sticking his hands in his pockets.
“What the hell was that?” I asked.
Emma
shrugged. “Drugs, maybe?”
“I’ll never understand the appeal,” I said, sighing.
Emma looked guilty. “Let’s just get to the sheriff’s office.”
Chapter Three
The Millennium Falcon managed to make it to the sheriff’s office, a one-story brown building in the middle of town that looked like a post office. I’d been here a couple of times before due to my stupid brother’s antics as well as the fact my father had once been busted for drinking too much at the Fourth of July party then scaring off some tourists with his antlers. Totes embarrassing. I think I’m using “totes” right. There’s not really a cool crowd in Bright Falls for me to learn from.
“Do you really think we’re going to be able to get access to Victoria’s body?” I asked, less than pleased at the idea of touching the body of someone who’d died. I wasn’t even sure it would work despite the fact a body was an object rather than a person.
“Of course,” Emma said cheerfully as she hung her head out the window and let her tongue hang out.
“That’s weird,” I said, pulling into a parking space in the lot beside the building. “You’re a wolf, not a dog.”
“Not much of a difference,” Emma said calmly. “In my wolf form, I can talk to them too. I can also understand coyotes.”
“Where did you meet a coyote?” I asked. They existed in Michigan but I’d never seen one.
“Out west,” Emma said, pulling her head back in. “Grandpa took us to a big mesa for some sort of werewolf spiritual retreat thing. It was also a place he wanted to make arrangements for marriages and establish the inheritance line for our clan.”
“Right,” I said, sighing. “I’m sorry, I’m not a big fan of this shifter stuff. Still, are you okay? I mean, your sister just died, so if you need time—”