by M. J. Caan
As the coffin was lowered into the ground, the two of them stood graveside and tossed in two white roses that disappeared under two shovels of dirt, indicating the close of the graveside wake.
“Mom,” said Shawn, “can I ask you something?”
“Of course, baby. What is it?”
The young man standing next to her swallowed hard. “If Gram was so happy here, and so beloved by all these people; why would she kill herself?”
Torie turned to look up into the sad face of her son.
“Your grandmother did not kill herself. I…I don’t know what happened, but I know she didn’t do that. I won’t have you believing that.”
“I didn’t think that was what happened. Is that what you’re doing with Fionna and the others? Trying to figure out what happened?”
Torie knew she had to be careful here. As much as she wanted her son close, she also wanted him on a plane back to Austin as soon as possible. She had already made arrangements to meet with Arnold the vampire again; to set up an ironclad will to make sure Shawn was taken care of in the event something happened to her.
“I need to find the truth here, Shawn. And who knows? Maybe I’ll stick around for a while.”
Shawn looked at his mother and smiled. “I think that’s a good idea, Mom. You know, if you want, I’ll stay and help. Looks like Gram had a lot of stuff in that house to go through.”
Torie reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her child’s face. Kids these days and their shaggy hair.
“No. You go back to school. I need to do this. It will be good for me to spend some time with my memories.”
“Okay. If you’re sure, I’ll head back tomorrow.”
She took his hand and patted it. “I’m absolutely sure. You’ll just be gone for a few more weeks and then you can come back for break. How’s that?” Plus, if she was lucky, that would give her time to solve a murder. Shawn smiled and walked away, heading for her car, keys in hand.
Jasmin, Fionna and Taylor fell into step with Torie as she walked along.
“So,” said Jasmin, “did you get what we needed?”
“I sure did,” Taylor replied with a bright smile, holding up her digital camera. She had asked to photograph the burial for the local paper, and everyone had thought that was a marvelous idea.
“Investigation one-oh-one,” said Jasmin. “The killer usually can’t resist being close to their victims one last time. They always show up at the funeral…and now, we have pics of everyone here. Time to unmask a monster.”
15
Torie had never been so thankful for a large kitchen island in her life. It was covered in dishes and platters; cheeses, grapes, shrimp, casseroles, breads of all kinds, turkeys, hams, and more cakes and pies than she had ever seen outside of a bakery.
True to their word, Fionna, Taylor, Glen and Jasmin had done the majority of the work. Many of the shops had donated food, refusing to take money for the celebration that marked the passing of a beloved community member. Torie walked among strangers, shaking hands and receiving condolences, while wondering if she had just shaken the hand of the person who had killed her mother.
She was also afraid that her mother would make an appearance. But that didn’t happen. She only seemed to be present when Torie called for her. Part of her had wanted her mother to see the turnout; to know what she meant to so many. Fionna and Jasmin had advised against that.
The dead still had feelings, they said, and this might be enough to send her mother’s spirit into a depression.
It was an exhausting afternoon, with many people recounting their favorite encounters with Alva, and asking Torie to do the same. Every time that came up, her eyes would brim with tears and the person asking would just give her a hug, tell her it was okay, and thankfully move on.
After meeting each person, Jasmin would sidle up to her and whisper in her ear what supernatural camp the person was from. There were myriad wood elves, nymphs, fairy folk, and shifters of all kinds.
“What about witches?” Torie asked. “Are there more of them around?”
“Correction,” said Jasmin with a smile, “you mean more of us. Not many. There are still a few in the area, but they will be holding their own vigil for Alva. Witches are very private. You’ll meet them as time goes by. But the death of one of our kind is a very traumatic thing.”
Torie understood all of this only too well.
“So have you picked up on anything?” Fionna asked, appearing at their side. Taylor was with her and they both leaned in, eager for any updates.
“Well, maybe if you had let me do what I needed to,” said Jasmin, “we would know something by now.”
“What does that mean?” asked Torie.
“She wanted to poison the food,” said Taylor.
“Not poison,” Jasmin quickly amended, “just lace some of it with a potion that would have acted like a truth serum. Add to it some powder that would have loosened lips and I’m betting the killer would have revealed themselves by now.”
Fionna tsked, her face a mask of disapproval. “You have no idea how that would have affected so many of the supernaturals here. Can you imagine the secrets some of them might be keeping? You would have forced all of that into the open.”
Jasmin grumbled but didn’t reply.
“Imagine if you were pressed to suddenly unload some of the secrets you carry around,” said Fionna, fixing her gaze on her friend.
“Whatever. It was just an idea.”
Before anyone could say anything, Torie felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see the young receptionist from Arnold’s law firm standing behind her. She was holding a large bouquet of flowers and offered them to Torie.
“Arnold sends his condolences,” she said. “He said to let you know that he is very sorry he can’t be here in person for you.”
“Thank you,” said Torie, taking the flowers. “They are beautiful.” And they really were; an assortment of calla lilies and baby’s breath. “I’ll find some water for them.”
“Got it,” said Taylor, taking the flowers from her and heading off towards the back of the room.
“Oh…thank you,” Torie called after the young shifter before turning back to Arnold’s receptionist. “So…I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”
“Breonna. And if there is anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“Of course, Breonna. What a beautiful name. Give Arnold my thanks, will you?”
Breonna stood there, not moving. “First time at a funeral?” Torie asked.
Breonna nodded, looking around. “It isn’t as solemn and sad as I expected.”
“That’s because we are remembering a person’s life,” said Jasmin, “not mourning their death.”
Breonna seemed to think about this for a moment before nodding and offering an awkward smile.
“Here, let me take that coat,” said Jasmin, “you must be melting in it. Stay and have some refreshments.”
The girl jumped, clutching her shearling jacket closer around her, clasping the collar tight around her neck. “No, it’s okay. I have been fighting off a cold and…well, I need to get back to the office. But I’ll give your regards to Arnold.” She nodded again, almost a bow, and headed back through the room of guests towards the front door.
“What an odd little girl,” said Tori.
Jasmin shrugged. “She’s a child. They’re all odd at that age.”
Torie elbowed her in jest. “Hey, we were that age once.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me. Reminds me of a saying: ‘Youth is wasted on the young.’ Or something like that.”
They both laughed and headed back into the kitchen.
“So,” said Torie, “how long will this last? Not that I mind of course…”
Jasmin held up a hand to silence her. “Don’t say another word. It’s time to clear everyone out. Leave that to us.”
She called to Taylor and Fionna and said something to them that Torie couldn
’t quite make out. They each spread out and started speaking with the guests. Slowly, the crowd thinned, and the clamor of voices receded, dying down from a din to a whisper, and finally to silence as the last of the visitors took their leave.
Freya was the last to come up to Torie, her sad smile filled with concern for her friend. She threw her arms around her and gripped her close.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to the city with me? I feel strange leaving you here all alone. Especially now that I know Shawn will be leaving as well.”
“Thank you, my friend,” said Torie, “but I am just fine. And I’m not alone. Plus, I promise that if it gets to be too hard on me here, you’ll be the first to know. Cos I’ll be knocking on your door.”
“Anytime,” Freya said. “The door is always open for you.” She turned to Torie’s new friends and smiled. “Take care of her. She’s one of a kind.”
“Oh, trust me, we know,” said Fionna, returning the smile.
She walked her old friend to the door and hugged her one last time, waving as she climbed into her car and eased out of the drive.
“Whew,” she said, turning to the few people that remained. “I can’t thank you enough for that. There is no way I could have done that without you.”
Glen had taken it upon herself to usher the last of the guests out and was directing the mass of cars out of the driveway and onto the road. Fionna, Jasmin and Taylor were already in the kitchen tidying up. In the large island cabinetry, there were two entire drawers dedicated to Tupperware. Torie laughed as Jasmin struggled to find tops that matched the bottoms. Witch or mortal, it seemed neither could escape the mystery of the vanishing Tupperware lids. Eventually, the granite top of the island came into view as food was cleared away.
The stainless-steel dishwasher was whirring along quietly, and the last of the desserts had been covered with foil. That was when they all sat down at the island, glad to be off their feet.
Jasmin began to remove one of her shoes but then looked at Torie for approval before proceeding. Torie laughed and nodded, reaching to remove hers as well.
“Thank God,” she said, “my feet are killing me. They are going to be the size of watermelons tomorrow.”
“Coconut oil,” said Taylor.
“What?” asked Torie.
“Coconut oil. It cures everything from aches and pains to burns. Oh, and it’s the best lube around if you ever need—”
“Girl, please,” said Jasmin, cutting her off. “We get the picture.”
“I’m just saying,” said Taylor. “And knowing your mother, I’m sure there is some around here.”
That brought a laugh from all of them.
Glen walked into the kitchen and smiled at the ladies. “Well, that's the last of them. Unless you need me to stay, I have a shift I picked up tonight. You okay if I leave?”
She said it to them all, but Torie answered.
“Thank you for everything Glen. I mean that. But I think we are all good.”
Glen nodded and walked over to Fionna and gave her a kiss.
“See you later,” Fionna called after her.
“Would you ladies like a drink?” asked Torie. “Whiskey, beer or wine? Sorry, if you want to mix up a Cosmo or something that is on you.”
“Whew, no,” said Jasmin, “you know we can’t be drinking all that sugar. I’ll take a whiskey.”
“Wine for me,” said Fionna.
“Same here,” said Taylor.
Jasmin took out the glasses and set them in front of her friends before going to the liquor cabinet and removing a bottle of Rye and a Cabernet. They sat there in silence, enjoying the warmth that came from friendship and spirits.
“So, what do you think?” said Fionna to no one in particular.
“I think that whoever killed Alva was probably here in this room,” said Jasmin. “We have a record of everyone now, so we start going through them, one by one. Eliminate as we go until we find the bastard who did this.”
“What are you suggesting we do?” asked Taylor. “Interview each and every person?”
“If need be, yes,” said Jasmin. “It will be tedious, but I know a spell of revelation that will help to identify lies. And don’t worry, it doesn’t involve drugging anyone.”
“Can you teach it to me?” asked Torie.
Everyone stared at her in silence. Slowly, Jasmin nodded.
“Good. I want to learn everything I can about being a witch. Including how to use my powers. My mother said I would find a teacher. Is that you?”
Jasmin looked around. “Well, I don’t see any other witches here, so I guess that answers your question.” She turned her gaze to Fionna and Taylor. “And I’ll need your help to teach her.”
“Us?” said Taylor. “What can we do to help? We don’t know the first thing about magic.”
“That’s true, but you can do something I can’t; shift. And Alva said whatever Torie’s innate magical skill is, it centers around her ability to talk to shifters in their animal form. That’s something I will be on the outside of.”
“Oh, I get it,” said Fionna. “Whatever kind of witch she is, it centers around shifters.”
“Exactly, and that skill will come in very handy for someone tracking a shifter killer. The sooner we can unlock it, the better. Also, the sooner we can start teaching you some magic, the safer you’ll feel. Or at least the safer I’ll feel about you.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Torie. “When do we start?”
“When does Shawn leave?” Jasmin questioned.
Torie checked her watch. “He’s on the last flight out tonight. So, we’ll need to get him to the airport in a couple of hours.”
“Then that’s when we start; as soon as you get back. One thing; when you hear the voice of a shifter, does it sound like their regular voice, and do you actually hear it with your ears or is it in your mind?”
Torie thought for a second. “I’m not sure. I’ve never heard Eddie’s human voice, so I don’t know what he sounds like. And, honestly, I guess I didn’t pay attention to where the sound came from.”
“Interesting,” came a deep, guttural voice from the workroom. They heard footsteps coming through the patio doors and turned just as Max stepped into the kitchen. Standing next to him was Elric, in wolf form. He was large, but lean, his back coming up to Max’s waist. Max reached down and ruffled his fur.
“Drop it,” growled Max.
Elric obeyed and leaned forward to gingerly let something fall from his mouth into a dark heap on the floor.
As one, the women gasped. It was Eddie. And he wasn’t moving.
16
Before any of them could react, Taylor shifted into her fox form and placed herself between the women and the wolves. Her thick hair stood on edge, her tail bristled as she growled in warning.
“Havath un-to,” shouted Jasmin, holding one hand out to her side. Instantly, a large butcher knife freed itself from the block in which it was stored and flew to her grasp. She held the blade before her. “Get the hell away from him!” she waved the knife menacingly at the two of them. “Or I swear, blood be damned, I will cut you deep!”
Torie looked at her appreciatively. “You have got to teach me that one.”
Max raised both hands and stepped slowly back. He looked down at Elric and gave him an almost imperceptible nod. In the blink of an eye, the wolf was gone and the man appeared, standing next to his alpha.
“Easy, Jasmin,” he said, “we aren’t here to cause trouble.”
Fionna and Jasmin gasped, and it was only then that he remembered he was naked. His hands dropped in front of him, shielding himself from their view. Torie rushed into the living room, snatched a throw from the back of the love seat and brought it to him. He sheepishly wrapped it around his waist, avoiding her eyes as he did. Max gave his subordinate a look that, to Torie’s eye, seemed borderline disapproving.
“Why are you naked?” queried Jasmin in dismay.
“Um, I left
my clothes back in the woods. When we shift, they get all messed up…” Elric said sheepishly.
“Taylor?” said Jasmin.
In response, the fox shifted back to human form, fully clothed.
“Hey, how do you—” Elric started before Max elbowed him in the ribs.
“Forget that,” said Fionna, “what have you done to Eddie?” Despite her innate fear of the wolves, she ran to the black cat’s side and carefully picked him up. He was breathing, but just barely.
“We didn’t do anything to him,” said Max. “We found him on a ridge a couple of miles from here. He was exactly as you see him now. I swear.”
They hurried to the workroom and laid him on the table. He seemed frail, and thinner than he had looked the last time Torie had seen him, but other than that, he just seemed to be in a deep sleep.
“So what?” said Jasmin, still brandishing the knife. “We’re just supposed to believe you found him and carried him back here?” She placed one hand gently on his side and ran it along his fur.
“What are you looking for?” asked Max. His tone told them he already knew what she was going to say.
“Bite marks,” Jasmin replied, her gaze locked on Max’s.
“Told you,” said Max, looking over at Elric.
“Jasmin, he’s telling the truth. We didn’t hurt him. He was like that when we found him.”
“Why would he be up in the ridges?” asked Fionna. “All shifters know to stay in town while this psychopath is still free.”
“No idea,” said Max. “But after leaving here, I found a scent out back. Near where the vet was killed. And layered in with that scent, was a cat shifter. So I reached out to El here and we followed it. Tracked it up to the ridges and sure enough, found him there. Just lying out on the rocks like he was sunbathing or something.”