by Erin Johnson
I stepped closer to him, though Maple peeled away from me and edged back. “Hey, brother.” I lifted my palms. “What do you think of our new digs?”
He slowly blinked, then his blue eyes scanned the parlor, the staircase, and the glimpse of the dining room in one swift sweep. His full lips quirked to the side. “A little rough for you bougie types, isn’t it?” His half-lidded gaze flicked to Hank, who stood motionless in the center of the parlor. Horace’s expression was slightly insolent and challenging.
Hank didn’t take the bait, though he bristled for a moment. He cleared his throat and gave his head a little shake. “It’d be a lot more bougie, as you put it, if someone didn’t keep destroying our progress each night.” His eyes narrowed on my brother. “You don’t happen to know anything about that… do you?”
I pressed my eyes shut to keep from rolling them. Weren’t they past this?
Horace flashed a toothy grin, and his deep voice raised a few octaves. “Me? Why, whatever do you mean?”
Hank watched him a moment, then went back to pacing. “That’s a no, then. You like to take credit for your misdeeds.”
My brother pressed his lips together, a spark of genuine mirth in his eyes. “I’m getting too predictable.”
I scoffed. “Hardly.” I lifted a shoulder. “So, what brings you by?” I stepped closer, my hands outstretched, hurrying to qualify my question. “Not that you need a reason, I’m always happy to see you. You should come by more, in fact.”
Iggy, in the lantern dangling from my hand, rolled his eyes. “Desperate, much?”
Horace’s bored gaze dropped to my flame. “So you’re still carrying it around?”
Iggy’s flame flashed brighter and hotter. “I’m not an it!”
Horace smirked. “I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”
I lifted a brow. That seemed unlikely.
He cleared his throat and glanced out the window behind Hank. A tiny black beady eye peeked in through a crack in the boards. I recoiled as I realized a raven was watching us. Horace jerked his chin at the bird. “Who pissed off the ravens?”
“Huh?” I blinked in surprise.
He lifted a brow. “You haven’t noticed? They’re watching the house, going crazy in the trees. Someone made them angry.”
Maple frowned as Wiley came out from the dining room and stood behind her, hands on her shoulders. “Why would they be angry? We were just trying to be respectful.”
Horace looked a question at me.
I lifted a palm. “I think one of them flew into the invisible protection spell we put up last night to keep the vandals out. There was a dead raven on the front walk, so I picked it up and Sam, Maple, and I buried it in the trees.” I grimaced. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”
Horace let out a deep chuckle and folded his arms across his chest. “Ah. You picked it up?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I mean with a rag, not my bare hands.” I wasn’t crazy.
He shook his head, a broad smile still on his face. “If you used your powers more and transformed, you’d start learning more about the natural world. As it happens, I rather enjoy transforming into a raven and have learned some of their laws and rules.”
Maple blinked in surprise. “Ravens have rules?”
Sam nodded. “Sssnakesss do, too.”
“Ah, but ravens are particularly social creatures.” Horace smirked at me. “They remember faces—can tell us humans apart. And you just messed with their dead friend’s body. You’ve made yourself raven enemy number one.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “It’s not quite as impressive as most wanted terrorist in all the kingdoms, but it’s a good start to following in your big brother’s footsteps.”
I curled my lip, not at all liking the idea of being on a bunch of birds’ bad list. “You’re teasing… right?”
Horace strode past me and joined the others in the parlor. He looked around as my friends watched him warily. “Where’s your ring?” he called back to me over his shoulder.
“Huh?” I blinked down at my naked ring finger. “Oh. I left it at the guesthouse.” I grinned. Horace had made me an engagement ring from a shard of one of our mother’s original magic mirrors. It still made tears spring to my eyes when I thought of it. “I didn’t want to risk damaging it in all the construction.”
“Ah. Don’t lose it.” He continued to stroll around, and my friends edged away from him.
I hoped one day they’d be closer with him… or at least, not afraid of him. But I was pleased with this as a start—it was better than all-out war.
“When’s the big day?”
“Oh.” I grinned, surprised and pleased that my brother would ask such a normal question. I glanced at Hank. “We haven’t set a date yet. We decided to wait until after the house was finished to think about the wedding.” I sighed. At this rate, that might be never.
Horace merely raised a brow and moved toward the window.
Jun cleared his throat and opened his sketchbook, holding it up for Hank to look at. A bunch of loose papers rested inside. “I found that school report I did. And a bunch of the original drawings I’d used for research.”
I moved closer to get a look, as did the others. Horace continued to stand at the window, gazing out.
“Back in its glory days.” Jun grinned.
“Wow,” Sam breathed as he looked on over my shoulder. “It usssed to be beautiful.”
I nodded my agreement. With its ornate decoration, lush yard, and unique tower, our house had once been charming. A far cry from its current state.
Wiley made a noise in the back of his throat. “Hard to believe it got so run-down in just ten years.”
I frowned. Good point.
Annie tilted her head to the side as she admired the original sketches of the building. “I suppose, being on the edge of the forest and exposed to the elements, a house can deteriorate fairly quickly….” She looked around the room, at the mold, the boarded-up windows and rotting wood. “Still. You’re right, dear, it does seem a bit much.”
Maple bit her lip, her eyes worried. “Unless something supernatural made it rot faster….”
23
Drawing Conclusions
Horace’s footsteps thudded across the floor, and as Sam retreated, he took his place at my side. I felt Jun’s breath catch as he held the drawings up for everyone, including my brother, to see. Horace gave the drawings a cursory glance then turned to me. “Do you have vandals, or a ghost?”
I shrugged. “That is the million-dollar question.”
“Hmm.” Horace nodded, his brows drawn in thought.
My friends and I turned toward him, waiting to hear whatever conclusion he’d draw. If any of us were versed in the darker sides of magic, it’d be him.
He looked up suddenly, his expression bright. “Well, good luck with that.” He strode toward the front door. “I’m off.”
I gaped. “Wait—what?”
He spun and took a few backward steps, his half-closed eyes on me. “I’ve got a project I’m working on. I’ll be back another day.”
I frowned. “What project?”
He winked. “Bye.”
And with that, he was out the door. I threw my hands up. “Urg. He’s so… evasive.”
“Oh, but isn’t that the allure?” Iggy rolled his eyes.
Hank straightened, turning away from the sketches. “It’s not a ghost.”
I cocked my head. “You sound pretty sure?”
He set his jaw. “Call it a gut feeling. I think it’s time we took this to the police.”
I looked at Jun. “Aren’t you the police?”
The tall guard grinned at me from behind his glasses. “Nah. The guard is more about protecting the borders of the town, escorting travelers, helping out in a crisis.”
Ah. I nodded. So kind of like the National Guard back in the States.
He turned to Hank. “You’ll want to see Chief Abe. He’s a good guy. He mans the koban on Main Street.”
<
br /> “Koban?” Maple blinked.
“It’s like a tiny police station. Just one or two officers man each one. They’re scattered around Kusuri, so that there’s a police presence everywhere.”
Oh. That was useful. “Yeah. We should definitely tell the police.”
Hank nodded.
“I’ve got to go help my parents open the shop this morning.” Jun steadied his sketchbook with one hand and used the other to gather the loose papers. “Sam, I thought you could go over these—maybe they’d inspire a vision of what you guys want the house to look like.”
Maple whimpered. “If we survive the remodel.”
Sam’s milky eyes widened behind his glasses. “M-me?”
“Yeah.” Jun grinned. “You’re one of the most naturally talented artists I’ve ever known.” He and Sam often sketched together, and Jun had been teaching him some techniques.
Sam’s chin dipped until it was practically nonexistent, and his cheeks flushed bright red.
“Yah!” Yann clapped the shifter on the back and he lurched forward. “You can help us see dis place’s potential, eh?”
Sam nodded. “Sssure.”
I grinned. Maybe this would be just what the guy needed. A creative project to distract him from whatever had been bumming him out. I thought of the distance I’d observed between him and Kenta at the food stand the other night. Boy troubles were the worst.
Jun handed the loose papers over to Sam, who barely lifted his eyes to take them. As he moved the sheets, they revealed a charcoal drawing of Misaki in his sketchbook.
Hank blinked, his brows lifted. “That’s quite good.”
Jun looked down. “Oh. Thanks.” He folded the book shut and tucked it under his arm.
I nudged him with my elbow. “Misaki’s a lucky girl. That’s pretty romantic.”
Hank grinned at me, but Jun’s face fell.
“Yeah. I’m not sure she feels that way.”
I frowned. “What?”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’ve got to go.” He gave us a half-hearted smile and headed for the front door.
Hank watched him, a little crease between his brows, then turned to me. “I’m off to the police station, then. Want to go?”
I thought of Horace’s warning about the ravens being mad at me and nodded. I didn’t want to stick around this place.
“Anyone else?”
Annie lifted her hand. “I’m going. I want to make sure this Chief Abe fellow takes us seriously.”
Wiley, Maple, Sam, and Yann opted to head back to Jiji’s guesthouse until we figured out the next plan of action, since the protection spell had failed. No point in making a bunch of repairs only to have it all undone tomorrow.
As we headed out the front door, Iggy muttered, “Let’s hope this chief has more brains than Inspector Bon.”
I smirked. True dat.
24
Chief Abe
We walked by the tiny police station at the far end of Main Street and had to double back. It looked so nondescript, we’d missed it the first time.
“Oh.” I blinked as we stood in front of the gray concrete and beige brick building with its light blue casement windows cranked open to let in the warm summer breeze. A red globe light hung above the open French doors. I suspected it lit up to signal an emergency. I took in the thatched roof and tiny footprint.
“It’s so… cute.” I couldn’t help but grin at it.
Annie frowned. “We don’t want cute—we want effective. Someone needs to catch whoever’s destroying our new house.”
I glanced over at her. She smoothed back her wiry gray hair and tightened the scarf tied round her head. She set her jaw and balled her hands into fists at her side.
I flashed my eyes at Hank. Someone was ready to rumble.
He cleared his throat. “Let’s give Chief Abe a chance. Maybe inside it’s…” He trailed off as he searched the adorable, tiny police box. “Tougher?”
I slid an arm around his waist. “Come on.”
We stepped through the open doors and found ourselves already in the heart of the station. I supposed I’d been expecting a receptionist, or officer manning the front, but we found only a single officer sitting behind a desk. Metal filing cabinets lined the wall behind him, and a mess of maps, scrolls, and quills littered the big desk.
The man in uniform glanced up. “I’m Chief Abe. Can I help you?” His voice was deep and gruff.
I grinned. It was pretty nice actually, how accessible the chief was to the common person. He looked from one of us to the other with his dark, deep-set eyes. His light gray hair and matching mustache shone against his tan skin, and lines around his eyes made me think he’d seen some things in his day.
Annie marched forward. “We need to report some criminal activity. Our home is being vandalized.”
He blinked up at her, his eyes wide, then pushed back from his desk and stood. His dark blue uniform hugged tight to his round belly, the gold buttons straining. He held his gloved hands tight to his sides and bowed deeply to Annie. “I will be honored to be of service.”
His eyes flicked to her face, and a flush crept up her neck. “Oh, uh.” She inclined her head in a bow. “Thank you.”
Chief Abe swept a hand to a couple of chairs in front of his desk, and a third magically slid over from an empty desk behind him. “Please. Have a seat.”
I settled into the center chair between Hank and Annie and rested Iggy’s lantern on the desk. We each introduced ourselves, though the chief’s eyes lingered on Annie.
He cocked his head. “Annie. What a lovely name. I’ve never heard it.”
She pressed a hand to her chest and glanced down. “I’m from the Earth Kingdom.”
The officer’s tan face lit up. “Earth, eh? So you’re one of the bakers, then?”
We nodded, and Annie flashed him a shy smile. I lifted a brow. Since when was Annie shy? Was I sensing a vibe here?
My older friend seemed to have forgotten our purpose for coming, so I cleared my throat. “We’re renovating the old house on the corner.”
Chief Abe folded his gloved hands across his ample stomach. “Ms. Tomoko told me something along those lines.”
Hank leaned forward and gripped the edge of the gray metal desk. “Two nights in a row now, someone’s come in and vandalized the house. Property has been destroyed, and we’ve received death threats.” He let out a shaky breath. “I don’t lightly accuse people, but I find Yoshi and Yori highly suspect.”
Chief Abe made a noise in the back of his throat. “The twins, huh?”
I nodded. “Apparently, they’re not happy about us opening a bakery. They see us as competition and filed a petition to block us. We tried to talk to them, let them know we weren’t a threat.” I made a face. “It didn’t go well.”
The chief rubbed his chin. “I’ll have a talk with them and look into this. In the meantime, don’t contact them again. We don’t need this escalating.”
Hank and I nodded our agreement.
Annie gave him a big smile. “Thanks for taking this seriously. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to look into it.”
The chief lifted a brow and grinned back. “I like to take good care of the people I’m sworn to protect.” He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I take it seriously, though? Vandalism, death threats—this is serious business.”
Annie glanced at me, then back at the chief. “Some seem to think… it might be a ghost?”
“Ah.” He shifted in his chair. “You’ve heard the stories. What do you think?”
Hank shook his head. “It’s not a ghost.”
I looked over. Hard determination flashed in Hank’s eyes. I wished I shared his confidence.
The chief scratched his ear. “I have to agree. In my thirty years of experience, the living are always behind a crime. Never had a ghost perpetrator.”
I let out a breath as a little knot in my chest relaxed. That was comforting, actually. Except that it meant someone out there wanted to s
care us away from the house… and who knew how far they’d go.
“Though I’ll admit, the circumstances around that house are… highly unusual, at least for Kusuri.”
Annie leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
25
Scones
The chief let out a heavy breath. “It was ten years ago, the night of the great typhoon—biggest storm that’s ever hit our village. I wasn’t chief yet, but I was on duty as an officer that night. We all were. It was all hands on deck to get citizens to the shelters.”
His throat bobbed and his dark eyes looked off into the distance. “It was a bad night. First that monster attacked the train, just outside of town, and we had to get the survivors in before the storm hit… the dead, too.” He shook his head. “And then the fire at the morgue. I knew the officer who died that night.”
I frowned. “I’m so sorry.”
He nodded. “A good man. He was all we could spare from storm duty. The old chief felt it necessary to get the bodies of the female prisoners identified. We had to be sure there weren’t any murderers on the loose. We had enough chaos as it was.”
I thought back to the story Misaki had told me. Daichi had gone out in the storm, to the morgue, to identify a body. One of the women prisoners.
“Were they all murderers?
The chief shook his head. “Chief was worried about one in particular—Chiyoko.”
Goose bumps prickled my arms at the way he breathed her name.
“She was infamous, a serial killer. We’d all seen her photo in the newspapers, decades before, but only Daichi, who’d prosecuted her case, had a chance of identifying her body. Chiyoko had lost an eye in a prison fight, and she’d aged since the last known photograph of her was taken.” He shook his head. “The train wreck didn’t do her any favors, either.”