Her companion only grinned. “So what seems to be the problem? You must have asked for a janitor, and it looks like that’s exactly what he excels at.”
“If the kitchen is anything to go by, he’ll be great at the job,” Wynona agreed. “I think I just need to make sure he doesn’t interact with any of my patrons.”
Roderick snickered, then rubbed his mouth as if to push away the humor. “I don’t know. I can’t really fault his intuition. Wolves can be quite...pesky.”
Wynona kept her mouth shut on that front. It wasn’t worth arguing over. Any idiot could see Roderick and Rascal didn’t like each other. “Do you think—” Her phone buzzed again, interrupting their conversation, and Wynona sighed. “Sorry,” she apologized, answering once more. “Hello?”
“Is this Saffron’s Tea House?”
Wynona immediately straightened in her chair. This was a business call. “Yes, it is. This is Wynona speaking.”
“Good,” the feminine voice snapped.
Wynona’s smile fell.
“This is Eytha Salmold. I have a tea appointment next week on Saturday.” The voice sniffed. “Cancel it.”
“I...” Wynona’s mouth flopped open. “I’m sorry to hear you won’t be able to make it,” she choked out. “Is there another date that would work better?”
“I don’t associate with murderers.” After a sharp click, the line went dead.
Once again, Wynona was left staring at the small device. A trickle of worry began to work its way down her spine. How could this have happened? She wasn’t a murderer. She hadn’t been arrested or charged with a crime. How in the world did word even get out about the police chief’s accusations?
Almost as soon as she thought it, Wynona answered her own question. “Ghost reporters,” she said tightly.
“What was that?” Roderick was watching her intently and Wynona forced herself to calm down.
“Sorry,” she said, quickly taking a long sip of her drink. She needed all the help she could get right now. “That was a...an appointment cancellation.”
He nodded. “I know.” His voice was soft and sympathetic. “I could hear loud and clear.” He looked truly sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”
Wynona didn’t meet his gaze, but she nodded. “Thanks.” Tapping her fingernails on the table, she forced herself to think. What if more people cancelled like Ms. Salmold? Would the selkie tell her friends that Wynona was a murderer? Or was it already running rampant through Hex Haven? Would her family use this embarrassment to force her back to the castle? The only reason her family had left her alone up to this point was because of the media uproar it would cause if she suddenly disappeared. As long as Wynona stayed under the radar, she was certain her parents would leave her be. Bringing down scandal on the family name would be another matter.
She slapped her hand on the table, causing the teacup and saucer to rattle. “Enough,” she said out loud. “It’s only one customer. There’s no need to panic.”
“You’re right,” Roderick said with a sage nod. “No need to worry. Business will always have cancellations.” He raised his teacup in the air in a toast motion. “I have no doubt you’ll fill the slot quickly.”
Wynona smiled and lifted her own cup, then together they each drank the last of their tea.
No sooner had they finished when her phone buzzed again, this time with a text.
Wynona’s heart fell as she read the words.
“Wynona?”
She looked up with a sigh, setting her phone aside. “Another cancellation.”
Roderick shook his head. “Those da—” He looked sheepish and cleared his throat. “It’s those ghost reporters. They sensationalize everything.”
Wynona closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, a headache suddenly coming on. Good thing she’d just had some ginger. Hopefully it would help curb the pain before it got too bad.
“What are you going to do?”
She made a face, dropping her hand. “I don’t know. What can I do?”
“You could make a public statement,” Roderick offered.
“No.” Wynona shook her head. “I don’t want my family to have an excuse to come here.”
Roderick narrowed his gaze and tilted his head. “You don’t get along with your family?”
Wynona pinched her lips together. Should she tell him? She didn’t know him that well, and she wasn’t the kind to air dirty laundry to anyone who would listen. “It doesn’t matter,” she finally said. “But I don’t want to create a public spectacle.”
He took in a deep breath, his chest puffing up before deflating in a long exhale. “I don’t know. It seems to me the only real way for you to be seen as innocent is for the real killer to be caught.”
She nodded, her fingernails tapping again. Prim had asked if Wynona wanted to get involved, but Wynona had said no. She wanted to let the police do their job. Just like she wanted to be able to do her own job by opening and succeeding at the tea shop. Pretending she knew anything about solving a crime just seemed ridiculous.
A squeaking and scuffling sound caught her ear and Wynona turned in her seat to see if she could see her new friend. A dash of purple came rushing across the floor in her direction. “Well, hello, little one,” she said as the mouse stopped at the bottom of her chair.
“What is that?” Roderick asked with a chuckle, leaning around the side of the table in order to see.
“A hex gone wrong,” Wynona explained.
Roderick frowned. “I thought you didn’t have any powers.”
That dang blush crept up her neck. “I don’t. It was... Nevermind.” If Celia knew Wynona had told someone her hex went wonky, she’d come back just to prove a point. “Suffice it to say that this little guy is a survivor and now we’re becoming friends.”
Roderick grunted, but didn’t ask more questions.
The little mouse rose up on his back legs, nose twitching in Wynona’s direction.
“Hungry again?” she asked with a soft laugh. “I have a couple of cookies up here. Want one?”
Without another squeak, the mouse scampered up the leg of the chair and into Wynona’s lap.
Wynona held back her own squeak at its boldness. This was not quite what she had expected.
“Curious little thing,” Roderick mused, watching intently.
The mouse rushed up Wynona’s arm and nestled onto her shoulder, just barely in her peripheral vision.
“I think maybe I need to give you a name,” Wynona said softly.
The creature squeaked and curled itself into a ball.
“Huh. You don’t usually see that unless it's a familiar,” Roderick said, his eyes once again intent. “What did you say happened to your powers?”
Wynona started to shrug, then immediately stopped. She didn’t want to upset her buddy. “I was cursed as a baby. My powers were bound.”
“And you don’t know who did it?”
She shook her head. “Believe me, my family tried. They have fairly...vast resources.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I can imagine. And nothing was ever found?”
“Nope. Nada.”
“Interesting.”
Her new friend made a few noises. “Oh, right. A name.” Wynona smiled at her shoulder. “First I suppose I ought to know...um...are you a boy or girl?”
The mouse chittered and opened its eyes wide.
“Boy?”
The chittering became angry.
Wynona held up her hand. “Sorry. I’m just guessing.” She smiled. “That must mean you’re a girl.” Her eyes flitted over the bright purple fur. “How about Violet or Periwinkle?”
The air was filled with chattering, but Wynona had no idea what was being said.
“Uh...was that a yes? To which one?” She watched the mouse. “Periwinkle?”
If mice could frown, this one did, causing Wynona to laugh.
“Violet?”
A purple head bobbed up and down.
“Alright. Violet
it is.”
“Sounds good to me,” Prim drawled as she came through the kitchen entrance. She stopped in the middle of the room and jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “Do I want to know why there’s a brownie cursing out anyone who dares walk on his shiny floor?”
“He’s the new janitor,” Wynona said, relaxing into her seat slowly so as to not upset her new friend.
Prim huffed. “A possessive brownie janitor and a purple mouse named Violet.” She winked at Wynona. “You’re collecting quite the menagerie.”
Wynona smiled back. “Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”
Prim finally acknowledged Roderick by nodding at him as she sat down at the table. “You might not think so, but your energy needs to go toward saving your reputation rather than collecting odd creatures.” She turned to Violet. “No offense meant.”
Violet chirped a couple of times, then settled back down for a nap.
“Why do you say that?” Wynona asked warily. She didn’t need more bad news. The two cancellations were enough to have her head spinning.
Prim stood in the chair so she could be seen over the top, and pounded a fist on the table. “One of my customers today told me she planned to cancel her appointment here.”
“Not another one!” Wynona cried in dismay. Violet jumped on her shoulder. “Sorry,” Wynona said automatically, reaching up to soothe the creature.
“Another one?” Prim put her hands on her hips. “How many is this?”
“Your announcement makes three,” Roderick supplied. He shook his head. “This isn’t good.”
“You can’t let this happen,” Prim said, her pink eyes trained on Wynona. “You haven’t even opened the doors yet.” She put her palms on the table and leaned in. “You have to do something.”
“But what?” Wynona splayed her palms to the side. “There’s nothing I can do.”
Prim rolled her eyes. “I heard you picking up clues when you were looking at the body,” she snapped. “You have a great eye for detail, not to mention you think outside the box.” Prim smirked. “Something Mr. Stuffy Shirt Vampire could learn from.”
“Prim,” Wynona warned.
Prim waved her off, not the least bit concerned. “My point is, you should solve this.”
Wynona was shaking her head before Prim even finished. “There’s no way I can solve this. I’m not a detective. I have no skills outside of making tea.” The next words almost choked her, but they were true nonetheless. “And I don’t have one ounce of magic that would help me do a better job than the police will.”
“Who says you need magic?” Prim cried. “Vampires barely have any magic at all. Their place on the food chain has more to do with how hard they are to kill, not their ability with spells.”
“She has a point,” Roderick said.
“Not you too.” Wynona groaned, dropping her head back.
Roderick leaned forward, his forearms laying across the table. “We’ve already talked about how the chief only seems to be looking in your direction. If you want any chance of opening this place not only on time, but at all, you’re going to need to help clear your name.”
“I agree.” Prim slapped the table again.
Wynona sighed. She could see their point, but it still felt like too much. She escaped her family in order to find peace and freedom, not to risk everything by rushing after a murderer.
Her phone buzzed and she closed her eyes, dropping her head. She didn’t even want to look.
Prim grabbed it and opened the message. “Better hurry, Nona.” The phone was carefully set back down. “They’re falling fast.”
A soft nose nuzzled into her neck, sending a barely there buzz across Wynona’s skin. She reached up to pet Violet as a thank you. “You’re right,” she said hoarsely. “I don’t like it, but I’m not ready to give up my dreams quite yet.” She glanced up at the antique Victorian clock on the wall. “I’ll start this afternoon.”
CHAPTER 9
Wynona double checked the address she had entered in her phone. “This is it,” she muttered to herself. Climbing off her scooter, she pushed down the kickstand and walked to the front door.
The house was quite grand, even for someone who grew up in Hex Haven’s biggest castle. Wynona’s eyes drifted up, up, up... She counted four stories in the mansion. Tall, with spires on the corners as if it wanted to channel a slightly Gothic vibe, but wasn’t fully ready to commit, the house was certainly a show stopper.
The size and architectural style were not what drew the eye, however. It was the fact that the mansion was bright pink with yellow and blue shutters. From a distance, it reminded Wynona of a cupcake. “He probably did that on purpose,” she whispered to no one in particular.
Shaking her head, Wynona forced herself to look away and continue to the door. The stairs felt endless with her heart beating harder against her chest with every single step. Wynona had never done something like this before, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing. She only knew she couldn’t sit around on her hands all day.
Two more appointments had been cancelled since yesterday. She couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. If the police weren’t going to set the record straight, then Wynona would do it herself.
She had no idea why Chief Ligurio was so set on her being the killer, but Wynona knew the truth. “The truth shall set you free.” Her hand shook as she knocked on the ten-foot door, but the sound was still strong and it gave Wynona’s confidence a boost.
She threw back her shoulders and put her chin in the air. She could do this.
“May I help you?”
Or not.
“Uh...” Wynona blinked rapidly and cleared her throat as the giant of a butler glared down at her from the top of the doorway. Apparently, it was functional as well as decorative. “I would like to speak to Mrs. Droxon, please.”
The giant’s yellow eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. “Do you have an appointment?”
Wynona shook her head. “No.” Clasping her hands in front of her and appearing contrite, she lowered her chin a little. “My name is Wynona Le Doux. I know I should have called ahead, but there wasn’t really time. I need to ask her a few questions about her husband.”
If possible, the butler’s eyes had gotten even smaller at the mention of her name. Wynona couldn’t yet tell if that was a good sign or a bad one.
“One moment, please,” the creature intoned.
As soon as the door closed, Wynona deflated. This was going to be harder than she’d expected, and she hadn’t exactly thought it would be a walk in the park. She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. She’d worn it down today because it looked more formal, but the breeze was just enough to make it dance and mess up her look.
“You may come in.”
The deep, gravelly tone made Wynona jump and she immediately felt a flush creep up her neck. “Thank you,” she said with a polite smile before stepping out of the sun.
“This way.”
She did her best to walk quickly in her heels, but the butler’s long legs made it difficult to keep up.
“Mrs. Droxon is in the red room.” The butler pushed open a door and waved an arm inside.
Again, Wynona gave her thanks, then walked past him. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust. If she thought the outside of the house was impressive, it had nothing on the red room.
Bright red, the shade of Christmas berries, dominated the space. The walls, the furniture and even Mrs. Droxon’s dress as she lay on a fainting couch. The couch was the one black piece of furniture in the room and was the perfect foil to her Victorian style dress.
The wide skirt was spread across the black velvet, while Mrs. Droxon leaned precariously to the side. Wynona had to admit that the woman knew how to pay attention to detail. Every piece of the dress looked authentic, right down to how well Mrs. Droxon filled out the corset. Her sharp ears were the only thing that stood out in the picture as different and gave Wynona just a little bit of background. Mrs. Droxon was an
elf.
“You’re Ms. Le Doux?” she asked in a low, breathy tone.
Wynona figured the tone was because the woman could barely breathe, though maybe it was all part of the persona. “I am.”
“And you have questions for me?”
Wynona did her best to smile. “I do.”
Mrs. Droxon raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Have a seat, please.” She waved an elegantly pale hand toward a chair and Wynona took her weight off her heels.
“Thank you for seeing me without an appointment,” she started, hoping to ingratiate herself a bit. If Mrs. Droxon was anything like her husband, she would wish to be pandered to.
Mrs. Droxon nodded regally, though her eyes seemed unfocused, as if she were a million miles away. “Gerall said you wished to ask about my husband.”
Wynona nodded. “Yes. You see, someone wearing his clothes was murdered at my tea shop the other night.” Wynona scooted forward slightly, leaning forward in her eagerness. “I was hoping to ask if you knew of anyone who would wish to kill Chef Droxon.”
Mrs. Droxon blinked a couple of times, her face perfectly blank. Then with the flash of one second to the next, the breathless, simpleminded woman disappeared and a shrewd elf took her place. Rising from the couch in a truly amazing show of elegance, Mrs. Droxon walked across the room to a buffet filled with liquor bottles. She pulled the stopper off a crystal decanter and turned to Wynona, asking a silent question.
Wynona shook her head. She wasn’t a fan of alcohol. It changed people and muddled her mind. She’d stick with her tea, thank you very much.
“You know...” Mrs. Droxon sipped her glass. “For a moment there, I thought you were simply another one of his fans coming to figure out if I would stand in your way.”
Wynona jerked back. “Excuse me?”
Mrs. Droxon waved a hand in the air. “Don’t misunderstand me.” She looked Wynona over from head to toe. “You’re not his usual type, but your looks can’t be disputed.”
Wynona folded her arms over her chest. “Thank you? I think.”
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