Todd held up a finger. “Would you mind not printing anything bad about Shayna, at least anything I disclosed? I mean, she’s dead now. No point in dancing on her grave, right? I loved her once. I’d like to respect that.”
Hattie reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “We should send flowers or something to her boyfriend.”
“That’s a good idea,” Todd said. “I’ll do it first thing in the morning.”
As soon as I stood to leave the booth, the alcohol hit me. Hard. Unfortunately, that was the moment I ran smack into Deputy Bolan. Well, his tiny leprechaun head ran smack into the soft part of my belly. At least there was a cushion.
“This place is disorienting,” I grumbled, struggling to maintain my balance. Who thought it was a good idea to have all these colors blinding a bunch of inebriated customers? “I need to speak with the interior designer. Stat.”
“What you need is to stop swaying long enough to have a drink of water.”
“What we need is to get Granger back on the straight and narrow before it’s too late. His career depends on us.” I patted the leprechaun on the head. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re both menacing and adorable at the same time? That’s no easy feat.”
He glowered. “Can we avoid the phrase ‘straight and narrow?’”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“One, because it’s a path you can’t even walk right now. Two, because it implies that straight and narrow is the good path and that anything not straight and not narrow is bad.”
I squinted at him. “Is this a gay leprechaun thing?”
He exhaled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “How many drinks have you had, Rose?”
I pressed my nose against the empty glass. “This one was about ten sips. I finished it while I was interviewing our suspect.” I gesticulated to Todd in the booth behind us.
Deputy Bolan groaned. “You can’t conduct official business while intoxicated, Rose.”
“Why not? You do it while being short and green. How can anyone take you seriously?” I tweaked his ear. “I mean, look at that adorable face. It’s like being interrogated by a glow-in-the-dark puppy.”
“Where’s your babysitter?” he growled.
“You mean Alec?” I scanned the crowded bar. “He’s the hottest babysitter, isn’t he? I would love to sit on his lap all night long, if you know what I mean.”
“It’s impossible to misinterpret any of your sentences,” the deputy replied. “That’s what happens when you avoid complex grammar.”
I laughed and then burped loudly. Deputy Bolan rolled his beady eyes and took me by the elbow. “Come on, Detective Rose. Let’s get you back to your headquarters.”
“So I’ll be safe?”
“No, so the rest of us will.”
Chapter Fifteen
I decided to pay a visit to the one woman with insight into Granger aside from me. I hadn’t seen Mrs. Nash since I ended my relationship with the sheriff. The cowardly part of me wanted to turn and run the other way, but all of me cared too much for the werewolf to let fear take hold. I owed it to him to help get him back on track.
As I parked the car, I caught sight of her along the side of the modest house, knee-deep in gardening. My stomach fluttered as I forged ahead.
“Hi, Mrs. Nash,” I said. I sounded more hesitant than I intended, my nerves leading the way on this one.
She gazed up at me with a friendly smile and shielded her eyes from the intense sunlight. “Well, isn’t this a wonderful surprise?” She clambered to her feet and dusted off her knees. “Are you thirsty? There’s fresh lemon fizz in the fridge.”
“I have a policy of never turning down a glass of homemade lemon fizz,” I said.
She walked around the corner and entered the house through the screen door. She peeled off her gardening gloves and tossed them into a bucket on the floor next to the kitchen counter. “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that you’re here to talk about my son.” She didn’t look at me. Instead, she busied herself in the kitchen, pulling two glasses from the cabinet. Each one was etched with a design of a pineapple.
“Yes, but which one?” I asked. “These days, it’s pretty difficult to tell them apart.”
She crossed the room to take the pitcher of lemon fizz out of the fridge. “You’ve noticed, have you?”
I settled on a stool at the counter. “Who hasn’t? It seems to be a main topic of conversation in Starry Hollow right now.”
Her brow creased. “That’s unfortunate. I gather that’s why you’re here. You want to see if I can talk to him?”
“Well, there is that, but there’s also the broader question of why? What’s gotten into him?”
She poured a glass and slid it across the counter to me. “I think we both know why, Ember. We don’t need to be the sheriff to figure that one out.”
My face grew flushed. Of course his mother knew. They were very close and I had no doubt he’d confided in her to some degree. That was definitely an area where Granger surpassed Alec. The werewolf wasn’t afraid to express his emotions to those he cared about. At least, that was the Granger I knew. This look-alike Granger was someone else entirely.
“Have you seen him recently?” I asked. I brought the glass to my lips and let the bubbles tickle my nose. Lemon fizz was one of those beverages that had no equal in the human world. Describing it as carbonated lemonade didn’t do it justice. There seemed to be a magical quality to it.
“Yes, both boys were here on Sunday for dinner.”
“You’re living the dream,” I said. “What mom doesn’t want her grown sons coming by for Sunday dinners?”
She gave me a pointed look. “Your aunt seems to do quite well in that regard.”
That was certainly true. Aunt Hyacinth’s Sunday dinners at Thornhold were a staple in our lives. How she managed to command everyone’s presence on a weekly basis was an impressive feat, especially with the family’s busy schedules. Sterling was the only one who occasionally skipped, but Hyacinth didn’t seem to mind. I knew she would mind a hell of a lot more if Florian was the one who opted to dine elsewhere.
“How did he seem at dinner?” I asked.
She took a long drink and set down her glass. “I’ll say this much. It’s been nice to see my boys getting along so well lately. In fact, I haven’t seen them get on like this since they were young.”
“Presumably, this is because Granger is more in tune with Wyatt these days.”
She chuckled. “That’s a nice way of putting it. Then again, you’re a journalist. I guess you have a natural way with words.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “I don’t have a natural way with anything. I’m only a journalist because my aunt decided it was the best job for me in Starry Hollow.” Not that I objected. I’d come to enjoy my job. I felt like more of a role model for Marley working as a reporter than I did as a repo agent. I mean, I put a roof over our heads and scraped by with that job so I was proud of myself for that, but it wasn’t the life I’d imagined for myself. Not that Starry Hollow was either. Who could have imagined being transported to a magical town?
“I’m his mother, so I’m only getting a glimpse of what’s going on,” Mrs. Nash said. “Doesn’t stop me from getting reports from others, though. Plenty of pack members have called or texted with a recent Granger sighting, usually at their local watering hole.”
“And hitting on one of their daughters?”
She pressed her lips together, seemingly unwilling to speak ill of her son. “I know you care about him, Ember, and I imagine that’s the reason you’re here.”
“There’s a chance he might lose his job if this behavior continues,” I said. “You didn’t hear that from me. Deputy Bolan and I are trying to crack his current case so that he isn’t fired.”
She sucked in her cheeks. “I didn’t realize he was slacking off at work. I only thought he was annoying paranormals with his newfound libido.” She stared intently at the lemon fizz in her g
lass. “I think this is his way of trying to move on from you. He’s taken on this persona.”
“You mean Wyatt’s persona,” I said.
“It was hard when their father died,” she said. “I knew I wasn’t a perfect mom, but I seemed to do okay with Granger. I’ve always thought Wyatt would be Wyatt no matter what our circumstances had been. Who knows?”
“You’ve done a wonderful job with Granger,” I said. “Whatever’s going on with him now, I’m sure it’s only temporary. We just need to find a way to snap him out of it.”
She met my gaze. “Seems ironic. It was only a few weeks ago when he was here and I was encouraging him to move on from you. He said it would be easier if he could just forget you, but I told him that he didn’t really want that. My heart broke into a million pieces when their father died but never once did I want to forget him. When you love someone, you end up carrying a piece of them with you wherever you go. You’re always better off for having loved someone. Forgetting… That’s disrespectful to both parties.”
It was difficult to listen to his mother talk about our relationship, to talk about the aftermath. I knew I had hurt him and I would always regret that. He deserved better than what I could give him.
“I tried to talk to him,” I said. “It just felt more like I was talking to a stranger. Not that he’d forgotten me, more like he’d forgotten himself.”
“Maybe I’ll have a chat with him when Wyatt isn’t around to influence him,” she said. “He’d be devastated to lose his job. Being the sheriff is his life. He’s had a hard enough time coming back from you. I don’t know that he could come back from that, too.”
I swilled my lemon fizz, not wanting to waste a single drop. “Your homemade is the best, seriously.”
“I’d be happy to send some home with you,” she said. “Share some with that sweet daughter of yours.”
I was sorely tempted, but I didn’t feel right about taking anything from Granger’s mom. I didn’t want this visit to be self-serving in any way. “Keep it for Granger. Pour him a glass when you have your talk. And please let me know how it goes. Deputy Bolan and I will be working hard to close this case, but inevitably there will be a case after that. The problem isn’t going to go away until his behavior does.”
She moved closer and hugged me. I’d forgotten how affectionate his family was. “I appreciate you coming, Ember. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
“I would do anything for him,” I said. Well, that wasn't strictly true. Otherwise, we’d still be together.
Mrs. Nash squeezed me hard. “I’ve already lost my husband. I don’t want to lose my son, too. Not to heartache. Not to anything.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said softly.
Magnus Destry lived in a concrete house that would have looked more at home in California than Starry Hollow. It was perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean and I was immediately filled with view envy. I noticed a landing strip for broomsticks that ran alongside the driveway. Clever.
I knocked on the door and waited. According to Florian, Magnus was somewhat of a homebody. Luckily, my cousin had been too focused on his dart game to ask me any follow-up questions.
The door clicked open and Magnus stood in the doorway wearing a long, black cloak, jeans, and black slippers. Beneath his cloak, I glimpsed a red T-shirt.
“Hey, Magnus. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. I could really use your help with something.”
The High Priest stared at me blankly for a moment as though trying to remember my name. “Now isn’t a good time. Why don’t you come back sometime between yesterday and never?” He began to close the door, but I stuck out my foot to prevent it from shutting.
“I promise I won’t take up too much of your time,” I said. “It’s just that I’m doing research on an ancestor and I keep hitting a brick wall. Someone suggested you’d be the right guy to ask.”
Magnus sniffed. “Well, I don’t see why your aunt can’t help you in that case. We all know how committed she is to her heritage.”
“I don’t want her to know,” I said simply.
That got his attention. Slowly, he opened the door further. “I beg your pardon? You want to keep this little research project away from your aunt’s all-seeing eyes?”
“That’s right. It can be our little secret.”
A smile emerged and he stepped aside. “Do come in, Ember. Don’t mind the mess.”
I stepped into the Spartan foyer. There were clean lines as far as the eye could see. “You and I have different ideas about what constitutes a mess. You could have amazing parties here and make a mess. Why don’t you entertain more often?”
“I’m an INTJ. I find socializing exhausting,” he said. “The monthly coven meetings are enough social interaction for me.”
“High Priest is an interesting choice for the most introverted of introverts.”
“It isn’t a choice,” he said darkly. “It’s a calling.” He guided me to a sectional sofa made of black leather. As he sat, his cloak fell open and revealed more of the red T-shirt underneath.
“Sweet baby Harry Potter,” I exclaimed. “That’s a Platform 9 3/4 T-shirt. Where did you get that?”
Magnus quickly drew the sides of his cloak back across the shirt. “I don’t know what you mean.”
I stared at him, incredulous. “Yes, you do. That’s a Harry Potter reference. Magnus, are you a closet Potterhead?”
He seemed to waver. “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”
I barked a laugh. “Who am I going to tell? The only one who knows Harry Potter around here is Marley.”
Excitement sparked in his dark eyes. “I used my passport to take a trip to the human world last month and it was life-changing. I watched all the films, bought the complete set of hardcovers, and came back with more souvenirs than I could carry. I had to have a bottomless bag expedited to me for the trip home.”
“Sounds like you had a good time.”
He tore off his cloak and adjusted the hem of his T-shirt proudly. “Which house are you?” He peered at me. “Please don’t say Hufflepuff or I don’t think I’ll be able to help you.”
I admonished him with a pointer finger. “Listen, you’ve been a fan for five minutes compared with the rest of the world. Don’t go beating on Hufflepuffs.”
He shrugged. “I’m a Slytherclaw. It’s in my nature, apparently.”
“Marley is a Ravendor and I’m a Gryffinpuff.”
He scrutinized me. “Gryffinpuff? Are you sure about that?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” And I only took the test three times to get that result. “Can we get down to business? I don’t want to keep you from salivating over the Pottermore website.”
“Why don’t we discuss this downstairs? Then I can show you the treasures from my trip. I keep them out of sight because I know that no one else will understand or appreciate them.” He paused. “And I detest mess, at least in the main living space.”
I lifted my bag back over my shoulder. “Lead on, Mr. Slytherclaw.”
I followed Magnus to an open doorway and down a flight of stairs. We emptied into an open-plan space that spanned the entire lower-level. The front of the room was made of glass to maximize the exterior view of the water. The interior view—well, it looked like Hogwarts had exploded. There were banners of the four houses on the walls and retro-style pictures of Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, and Diagon Alley. On a long table in the middle of the room was a replica of Hogwarts made out of Lego. Figurines were scattered across the table in various scenes. The centaur Firenze. Hagrid. Harry and Buckbeak, the hippogriff. Magnus clearly had spent a lot of time and thought putting this together. Or he’d simply used magic. Either way, it was a Harry Potter wonderland.
“Isn’t it amazing?” he asked.
“Wow,” I said. “I’ll be honest. This was not at all what I was expecting.”
“I’m a grown wizard and I’ve never connected with material like this before,” he said. “I mean, I’v
e always been an avid reader and have enjoyed characters and world-building in other stories, but something about this one really grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard.”
“I can see that,” I said. Marley would have a field day down here. “None of it bothers you for its inaccuracies?”
“With such a compelling story, who cares? Besides, theirs is a different system entirely. It’s fun to explore other wizarding worlds.”
“Speaking of exploring…” I set my bag on the table and he lurched forward.
“No, no. Please don’t put anything too close to Hogwarts. Use that table over there.” He pointed to a smaller table against the northern wall that he hadn’t managed to cover in memorabilia yet.
I crossed the room and emptied the bag onto the table. Magnus joined me, his brow lifting when he noticed the ancient grimoire.
“I tend to only see books like that in the archives,” he commented.
I frowned. “What archives? At the library?”
“No. The official coven archives, of course,” he said. He motioned to the book. “May I?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
Magnus carefully turned each page of the grimoire. “It’s a beauty. I love the smell of these old books. Where did you find this one?”
“My aunt gave this grimoire and the wand to my daughter for her birthday,” I said. “This Book of Shadows I found recently.”
Magnus shifted away from the grimoire to pick up the Book of Shadows. He pressed the cover to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Buried treasure,” he murmured.
“Pretty much,” I said.
“I gather these belonged to a Rose,” he said.
“Her name was Ivy. She was a High Priestess.”
His expression darkened. “Yes, the scandalous one. I recall the story. There’s a section devoted to her in the archives.”
My pulse began to race. “There’s an entire section about Ivy Rose in the archives? How do I access them?”
“You can’t,” he said simply. “Only High Priestesses and High Priests can view the archives.”
“Can you tell me what you remember reading about her? All I know is that she had to step down as High Priestess and was stripped of her magic for use of excessive force.”
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