Murder by the Cup

by Abigail Thornton

  Rascal ran a hand through his hair, which was messier than normal, and glanced at the wall clock.

  Wynona winced when she noticed the time. “Sorry. I was caught up in my thoughts and didn’t realize how late it was.”

  Rascal sighed. “It’s fine. You’re just lucky Mrs. Reyna down the hall didn’t see you first.” He began walking toward the kitchen. “Coffee?”

  “No, thank you,” Wynona said softly. She gripped her purse with both hands. “Was that the woman who glared at me when I visited the other day?”

  Rascal chuckled. “If that’s all she did, then she must like you.”

  Wynona settled herself on a barstool while Rascal brewed himself a cup of joe. “Actually, I think it was you she liked. I saw her smiling at you like you’d hung the moon.”

  Rascal snorted. “I unclogged her sink. That only bought me about ten minutes of good will.” He turned his head and grinned at Wynona. “I was back to being Rascal by the end of the day.”

  Wynona laughed softly. “Nice to know cranky old ladies are the same no matter which species we’re talking about.”

  “That they are.” He turned, resting his hips against the counter, and sipped his coffee. “So...what did you figure out now?”

  Wynona sighed. “I didn’t exactly figure something out, but I have some questions for you.” She pinched her lips. “I really am sorry about the time. I’ve been so worried about how little time I have left that I just keep going, but it wasn’t fair to ask the same of you.”

  Rascal shrugged. “It’s all part of the job. I’ve pulled more all-nighters than a group of college kids studying for finals. Go ahead.”

  Wynona took a deep breath. She needed to handle this carefully. Rascal had the power to stop her from investigating any more and she couldn’t take that. Not when the grand opening was so close. “Have you ever dealt with...the unsavory side of Hex Haven?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Doesn’t every cop?”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Wynona murmured. This was a bad idea. She shouldn’t have come. How was she supposed to get him to tell her more without tipping him off to her suspicions?

  “Wynona,” Rascal said in a tender tone.

  “Hm?” She looked up and jolted a little when she realized how close he was. Maybe it was his bigger than life personality, or his thick muscles, but the distance of the countertop seemed awfully small at the moment.

  “What is it?” he asked in a low tone.

  She hesitated, then blurted out, “What can you tell me about the underground mobs?”

  Rascal stilled, his mug halfway to his mouth. “Have you been threatened?” he asked. This time his tone was menacing, with a slight growl on the edges.

  Wynona held back a shiver. She definitely didn’t want to get on his bad side. “No, no threats.”

  “But?”

  “But what if the murders have something to do with...them?”

  Rascal set down his mug and leaned onto the counter. “Explain.”

  She dropped his gaze, unable to keep staring at those bright golden orbs without feeling things she shouldn’t. This wasn’t a social call and they didn’t have that kind of relationship. “I was going over suspects this afternoon after you took in Delila and Kayne.” Wynona peeked up from under her lashes. “And the list is short.”

  He nodded. “You and Mrs. Droxon, essentially.”

  Wynona huffed. “Yes. Neither of which are good suspects.”

  Rascal grinned. “Because...?”

  Wynona tilted her head and gave him a stern look. “Because I know I didn’t do it, and Maeve doesn’t have a good motive. She literally gains nothing by her husband’s death.”

  Rascal scratched his chin. “Good points. But what made you think of the mob?”

  Wynona spread her hands sideways. “Who else? I keep going back to the fact that Mr. Skinflayer was trying to steal Chef Droxon’s binder. He managed to get away, but why come back to my office for it? There was no practical purpose for it. Unless...”

  “Unless what?” Rascal pressed.

  “Unless he was meeting someone,” Wynona said softly. “And my shop just happened to be neutral territory.”

  “So you don’t think he was killed because he was mistaken for Droxon?” Rascal frowned.

  Wynona shook her head. “No, I don’t.” She leaned forward. “I think the killer knew exactly who they were killing.”

  “But why the chef’s clothes?” Rascal asked. “Why be dressed like Droxon if he wasn’t pretending to be him?”

  Wynona tapped the countertop. “I’m not quite sure yet. But what if it was simply to throw us off? Perhaps the killer was trying to build a false lead.”

  Rascal shook his head and straightened, then whistled low under his breath. “This is quite the conspiracy theory, Wy.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Wy?”

  He grinned unapologetically. “I like nicknames.”

  “Prim calls me Nona. You could call me that.”

  He shook his head. “No thanks. I like Wy.”

  Wynona rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But still. Maybe we’ve been looking at this all wrong.”

  “It’s possible.” Rascal yawned, his incisors flashing in the light as just a little sharper than a normal person’s. He scratched the back of his head. “But I’m not sure how that works in the long run. Why lead us directly to Droxon, only to kill Droxon? A killer wouldn’t want the police roaming around their next hit.”

  Wynona slumped in her seat. “I can’t answer that one.”

  Rascal tapped the counter with his palm a few times. “I think maybe we need to sleep on this. You’ve brought up some good points, but it’ll take some time to figure it all out.”

  Wynona rose to her feet, understanding the dismissal, but she was frustrated she hadn’t really learned anything. “Can’t you tell me anything about the underground?” she asked as she walked toward the door.

  “Stay away from them,” Rascal said in an unusually serious tone. “That’s all you need to know.”

  She huffed. “That’s not very helpful. If they killed someone in my shop, how am I supposed to stay away?”

  “Are you worried we can’t keep you safe?” Rascal teased.

  “Your chief wants me behind bars,” Wynona said wryly. “It probably doesn’t get much safer than that.”

  “Actually, I think you surprised him today,” Rascal mused.

  Wynona beamed. “Really?”

  The wolf put his hands in the air. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m pretty sure he’s not ready to sing songs by the campfire, but when your name was mentioned today, he didn’t break into his usual tirade of how horrible witches are.”

  Wynona dramatically wiped her forehead. “Good to know I’m making headway.”

  “You planning to become besties with him?” Rascal chuckled.

  “Oh no,” Wynona sang out. “I’m just hoping to survive this without him biting me.”

  One eyebrow rose ever so slowly. “Biting isn’t all bad, you know...”

  Aaaaand, there was that dang flush again. So she wouldn’t embarrass herself further, Wynona squeaked out a goodbye and practically dove into the hallway. She could still hear Rascal’s soft laughter behind her as she walked out to the street and her scooter.

  She secured her purse and sat down, strapping on her helmet before glancing up at the area Rascal’s apartment should have been. When she didn’t see him looking through the window, she took a second to fan the heat on her cheeks. “Good heavens,” she whispered to the night. “If the mob doesn’t kill me, dealing with flirty men just might.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Normally Wynona hated to make a single pot of tea and share it with everyone. It felt so impersonal and didn’t allow her to cater to individual needs. This morning, however, it was all she could bring herself to do.

  Every time she poured a cup for her friends from the pot, she wanted to apologize, but the grumpy, sleep-deprived side of her grumbled internally
that she didn’t owe anyone an apology. Trying to come to a happy medium between the two voices, Wynona smiled pleasantly and distributed the cups. “Hope you like ginger lemon,” she said.

  “Nothing like a little citrus in the morning,” Prim said.

  “This is wonderful, thank you,” Roderick replied with a sly smile in her direction.

  Wynona relaxed a little. After waking up this morning, she had automatically called her friends and asked them to come over. She had learned very little from Rascal last night, but the more Wynona thought about it, the more she was sure she was on the right track. “As much as I’d like to say this is supposed to be a social visit, I’m afraid I have an ulterior motive.”

  Prim giggled. “I think we both knew that, Nona.”

  Wynona gave her friend a sheepish grin. “When this is all over, I promise I’ll host a tea party just for your sweet company.”

  Prim pointed a purple nail at Wynona. “I’ll hold you to that.” She set her cup down. “Now. What’s going on?” Her brows furrowed. “You’re supposed to open tomorrow. Is there no chance of it happening?”

  Wynona immediately felt a migraine begin to build in the back of her head. Twenty-four hours. She had twenty-four hours to figure this out or the label murderer would continue to hang over her head and her opening would be ruined. “I haven’t given up yet,” she assured Prim.

  “What can I do?” Roderick asked. He glanced over his shoulder. “Have the police cleared the crime scene?”

  Wynona nodded. “Yes. My concern no longer lies with that, but the fact that customers are going to be terrified to show up. I’m down to about fifty percent of the bookings I had.”

  “Aw, sweetie,” Prim cooed. “This is so ridiculous! Anyone who knows you knows you couldn’t hurt a sprite!”

  Wynona nodded wearily. “Thanks, Prim. But right now I just need this case over and done. Then hopefully word will get out I’m innocent and the opening can continue as planned.”

  “Right.” Prim straightened in her seat. “What’s new with the case?”

  “A theory.”

  Roderick slowly set his cup down. “A theory? Nothing more concrete?”

  Wynona debated telling them about the tea reading, but just like with Rascal, she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. If the impossible had happened and Wynona had actually performed magic, the worst thing in the world would be for her family to catch wind of it, and if others besides her knew, they would definitely hear about it.

  Instead, she shook her head. “No, sorry. Just a theory.”

  “Well...go ahead.” Prim’s eyes were wide in anticipation while she sipped her steaming brew.

  Violet’s squeak broke the silence and she scrambled up Wynona’s leg. “Sorry,” Wynona said softly. “I wasn’t trying to exclude you.”

  Violet’s eyes seemed to narrow and she chattered in an angry tone.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re getting scolded from a mouse,” Prim said between laughter.

  “I think you’re right,” Wynona responded with a chuckle of her own. “Here.” She picked up a strawberry from the fruit tray and handed it to Violet. “Better?”

  Violet sniffed and took her bounty a little farther down the table, much to Wynona’s amusement.

  “Now that the mouse is settled...” Roderick urged.

  Wynona’s demeanor grew serious. “I think it’s possible that we’ve been looking at the first murder all wrong,” she said solemnly. “And I think it’s possible our would-be thief, Mr. Skinflayer, had ties to the paranormal underground.”

  Prim choked and began coughing harshly, while Roderick’s blond brows shot up so high, Wynona was sure they would reach his hairline. “The mob?” he asked carefully. “Are you sure, Wynona?”

  After making sure Prim was breathing and well, Wynona responded with a nod. “I do.”

  “And how did you come to that conclusion?” Roderick leaned casually back in his seat, but Wynona could see that every muscle in his body was wound tighter than a sprite on a sugar high. He was reacting just like Rascal had, and the protective demeanors of both men were incredibly flattering to her.

  “Hear me out,” Wynona said, leaning forward. “What if the killer wasn’t after Chef Droxon at all? What if they knew they were killing Joksac Skinflayer?”

  Prim squeaked. “What would that mean for the case?”

  “It would mean that someone was upset with Mr. Skinflayer,” Roderick said with a narrowed gaze. His fingers strummed rhythmically on the table. “But who? And why?”

  “Mr. Skinflayer had been attempting to steal Chef Droxon’s binder of recipes,” Wynona continued. “Perhaps he wasn’t stealing them for himself, but for someone else.”

  “Someone who killed him when his mission failed,” Roderick finished for her. He nodded slowly. “That is an excellent deduction, Wynona.”

  “But then why kill Chef Droxon?” Prim inserted. Her lips were pursed. “If all they wanted was the binder, why did they kill the chef?”

  “Perhaps they were caught in the act?” Roderick proposed. “The thief ended up killing out of self preservation?”

  Wynona shook her head. “No...there had to be more to it than that. Chef Droxon was killed in the middle of the day. Why would a thief, more than likely a seasoned one, kill a person in broad daylight?”

  “And wasn’t the doppleganger dressed like Chef Droxon?” Prim offered. “Why would he be in the chef’s clothes?”

  Wynona scrunched up her nose. “I have to admit that I haven’t figured it all out yet. But I feel like I’m closer.” She rubbed her temples. “But there’s something I’m still missing. I’m positive that if I can find that one little clue, it’ll all fall into place.”

  “Wynona,” Roderick said in a firm tone, catching her attention. “I don’t think you should continue this pursuit.” He held up a hand to stop her rebuttal. “I know you want to open tomorrow. I know how much work you’ve put into this shop and how much it means to you. I do. I understand, but just yesterday we were talking about the possibility of you chasing a clumsy, blind thief. Now we’re looking at the possibility of Hex Haven’s most notorious and evil criminals.” He shook his head slowly. “I cannot in good conscience allow you to continue. Not when it’s so dangerous.” He reached out and put his hand over hers.

  The coolness of his skin was so different from Rascal’s heat, yet both were soothing in their own way. Wynona gave him an understanding smile. “Thank you for your concern,” she said softly. “As someone who has never had much in the way of friends, I can’t tell you how much it means to me. But I just don’t think I can let this go.” She pulled away from his touch and splayed her hands to the side. “I can’t open with the word killer hanging over me. I know I didn’t murder anyone. You two—” Wynona glanced at Violet, “three know I didn’t kill anyone. Even Deputy Chief Strongclaw knows I didn’t kill anyone, but my customers don’t. They were putting their trust in me before they ever met me, and now it’s coming back to bite them on the ankle.”

  She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “They deserve to come in here and relax, not worry for their lives.” She snorted. “If anyone even has the courage to come.” She actually had an appointment later that afternoon with a celebrity who was planning a private tea party. So far, the cat shifter hadn’t cancelled, but Wynona was on edge with the possibility that every text she received would be exactly that.

  With so many people backing out, a good review from Ms. Akina Kimoko would go a long way in restoring Saffron’s Tea House reputation in the media.

  Roderick sighed. “It isn’t safe,” he argued.

  “It wasn’t safe before,” Wynona responded, though she understood his concern. They were talking about a whole new level of danger with her recent evidence.

  “Promise me you’ll be careful,” Prim whispered, her white hands clasped tightly. “I know we haven't been friends that long, but I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
<
br />   If Wynona’s eyes grew a little misty, no one could blame her. She had so few people she counted as friends. It was a new experience to have people worried about her, and Wynona hoped she never took it for granted. She stood and walked over to Prim with her arms out.

  Prim jumped to her feet and wrapped Wynona in a tight hug. For as thin as the fairy was, she sure had a tight grip. “Please be careful,” Prim whispered thickly.

  Wynona nodded against her friend’s shoulder. “I will.”

  Prim pulled back, stared into Wynona’s eyes, then added, “Okay. I believe you.” She glanced at the wall clock. “But if I’m going to have all your arrangements ready for tomorrow, I have to flit.”

  Wynona smiled and wiped at the corner of her eye. “Thanks for coming this morning.”

  “I know I’ve been useless in this case,” Prim said. “But I really am willing to help if possible.”

  “There isn’t anything you can do,” Wynona reassured Prim. “I’ve mostly been chasing shadows.”

  “Sometimes what’s lurking in the shadows is hidden for a reason.” The stoic words came from Roderick, who still looked less than pleased with Wynona’s decision.

  Knowing she would need to face him directly, Wynona saw Prim to the door first. This was a talk that more than likely required privacy.

  He was still brooding in his seat when Wynona came back into the room. She sat down across from him and put her chin high. “Just say it, Roderick.”

  At her declaration, the stiffness of his shoulders relaxed. “What can I say?” he said, his tone softer than she’d expected. “You seem to have made up your mind.”

  Wynona relaxed a little, grateful this wasn’t going to be a shouting match. “I have,” she said carefully. “But I always want to hear what my friends have to say.”

  One side of his mouth pulled up. “Friends? Is that all we are?”

  Well, that came out of nowhere. Wynona had no idea how to answer. She clasped her suddenly trembling hands in front of her. Yes, she found him attractive. Yes, she was drawn in by his confidence and suave manner, but she hadn’t been willing to let herself entertain the thought of anything more with the case and the opening of her business hanging over her head.