No Crone Unturned

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Right.” Graham sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, here it is ... we found a body behind the library this morning.”

  Brandon managed to keep his expression neutral, but the anxiety in the room kicked up a notch. “And you’re here because you think I’m involved?”

  Gunner jumped in. “Of course not! We know you’re innocent.”

  “Actually, I do have some questions for you,” Graham countered. “First, though ... it’s my sad duty to report that sometime during the overnight hours Honey Martelle lost her life in the downtown area.”

  I watched Brandon closely for his reaction. Already pale, he lost every hint of color as the words seeped in, and his eyes clouded over.

  “What?” Brandon’s voice cracked. “I ... are you kidding?”

  “That’s not normally the type of joke I like to participate in,” Graham replied quietly. “We’re still trying to ascertain the details of her death, but ... someone in town mentioned that you and Honey were dating.”

  “Um ... yeah.” Brandon rubbed his cheek, lost. My heart went out to him. He was clearly struggling to hold it together. “I don’t understand. It can’t be her.”

  “It’s her,” Graham countered. This part of the conversation was more comfortable for him, or at least he was used to it. Sure, Brandon had been a family friend for years, but Graham understood about moving the discussion along. “I made the identification myself. There’s really no possibility of it being someone else.”

  “But ... .” Bewildered, Brandon shifted his eyes to Gunner. “He could’ve made a mistake, right?”

  Gunner looked tortured as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, but ... no. I saw her, too. She’s definitely dead.”

  “But ... no.” Brandon was clearly in denial mode. “I just saw her last night.”

  “You did?” Graham leaned forward. “Can you tell me where?”

  “We were out at the bar on the highway. We spent a few hours playing pool and talking, and then I had to go home because I had to work today. She was still there when I left.”

  “She didn’t go with you?” Graham’s expression told me that was an important point. “Was it normal for you to leave early when out on a date?”

  “I ... .” Brandon worked his jaw. “I don’t really know that I would call last night a date,” he hedged. “I mean ... we were together, but it wasn’t a formal thing. We were just hanging out.”

  “Oh, so you weren’t dating?”

  “We were.” Brandon’s gaze darted to Gunner, discomfort rolling off him in waves. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just ... we haven’t seen much of each other in the past few weeks and it just sort of happened.”

  “It’s okay,” Gunner reassured him quickly. “I’m not upset. I don’t want you to think that. I dated Honey a million years ago and obviously there was nothing there, because it was easy to walk away. You were there. It wasn’t exactly some great love.”

  “No. Still ... you don’t date your buddy’s ex. I mean, that’s one of those unspoken rules we’re supposed to follow. I didn’t even realize I wanted to date her until we were hanging out together at the bar one night and got to talking. Even then I told myself it wasn’t really a thing. I still went back to the bar the next night — even though that’s not really my scene — and she was there and we talked again. Before I even realized what was happening, I was asking her out.”

  “Dude, I’m not angry,” Gunner stressed. “I just wish I would’ve known. I feel like an idiot. This was an important life event for you and I didn’t even know about it. Mable had to tell me.”

  Brandon’s smile was more of a grimace. “I was afraid to tell you. I figured Mable would let it slip. Honey and I were at the farmer’s market the other day and we ran into her. She seemed ... interested ... to see us together.”

  “Well, Mable is a gossip,” Graham noted. “She’s always interested when she sees people together. She can’t help herself. How long had you two been dating?”

  “Not long. I mean ... I guess we first met up at the bar about two weeks ago. It was a new thing. ... I really liked her.” His voice cracked. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

  Gunner smoothly got to his feet and moved behind the desk so he could rest his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” His voice was low. “I don’t know what to say to you. I just ... this is awful. I feel guilty because I didn’t even know about it.”

  “Well, to be fair, I was trying to figure out the best way to tell you,” Brandon admitted. “I knew you wouldn’t care, but it still felt as if I was crossing a line or something.”

  “You weren’t crossing a line. I know those rules exist for a reason, but ... I was basically a kid when I dated Honey. This isn’t a very big area. There’s going to be some overlap. Just don’t try dating Scout or we’ll have issues.”

  I understood he was trying to make a joke, but it fell flat.

  Brandon slowly turned his eyes to me, and for the first time since he’d heard the news he almost looked amused. It was reflected as a brief glint in his eyes. “You guys have been spending so much time together that was another reason I didn’t bring it up. I felt like an idiot talking about an ex-girlfriend when you obviously have a new one ... and you guys have been so wrapped up in each other that I’ve barely seen you.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” Gunner was sincere. “I didn’t mean to cut you out. I just ... we’ve been having a lot of fun together.”

  “And at the beginning of a relationship it’s all about the other person,” Brandon volunteered. “I get it. I was that way with Honey. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  One look at Gunner told me he didn’t feel the same way. The fact that he didn’t know an important life event about his best friend was likely to haunt him for a bit ... especially given the outcome.

  “Well, I’m here for you now.” Gunner’s eyes found mine and there was an apology there.

  Oh, well, great. Now he was going to feel guilty about abandoning me to take care of his friend. We really needed to work on his coping skills. They were lackluster, to say the least.

  “I need you to run me through things,” Graham prodded. “You say that you and Honey started talking at the bar on the highway about two weeks ago. Did she approach you? Did you approach her?”

  Brandon looked taken aback by the question. “Does it matter?”

  “I’m simply trying to get a picture,” Graham replied. He was all business. “The thing is ... we’re not exactly sure how she died. Her throat was a mess, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re looking for a human.”

  Brandon furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand. What else could it have been? Other than a human, I mean.”

  “Well, it could’ve been an animal.”

  Brandon was silent for a beat. “Or a monster.” He slid his eyes to Gunner. “Do you think it could’ve been one of the things you hunt and kill?”

  Gunner held out his hands, helpless. “I don’t know, man. She had wounds around her throat, and it was a mess ... but we’re not sure what we’re dealing with.”

  I’d already told them what they were dealing with. I had no doubt it was a vampire. Like, none at all. Still, I wasn’t aware of Brandon’s relationship with the paranormal. I was fairly certain he was a normal human, but as Gunner’s best friend he must’ve had some idea of the supernatural shenanigans plaguing Hawthorne Hollow. Of course, there was knowing and knowing ... and I doubted he was capable of seeing the full breadth of the situation.

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that information,” Brandon admitted. “I just ... don’t understand any of this. We were together last night. We were having a good time. How could she be gone?”

  “I don’t know,” Graham replied, his sympathy for the young man he’d known for almost three decades written all over his face. “I need a rundown of last night. Why were you guys at the bar on the highway? That place is a little rough.”

  “It is, but G
unner is always at The Cauldron,” Brandon explained. “Once we started officially dating, I didn’t want to go anyplace where we could accidentally run into Gunner before I had a chance to talk to him.

  “I mean ... I knew he was happy with Scout,” he added hurriedly. “In fact, I knew there was something between them before he was even willing to admit it. That first day he brought her here, I could see how much he liked her.”

  For some reason I remembered that encounter differently. “He was giving me a hard time.”

  “Yeah, but that’s how guys tell you they like you,” Brandon replied. “We still revert to playground rules. If we like a girl, we pull her hair or punch her in the arm. We can’t really get away with that as adults, so we have to do those things verbally.”

  He sounded so certain I could hardly argue with him. “Well, that’s ... weird but interesting.”

  Gunner shot me a wink. “I told you that I was flirting with you from the start. You just didn’t realize it.”

  “Yes, well, I stand corrected.” I rolled my eyes. “What’s the deal with this bar on the highway? I know I’ve only been in town a few weeks, but I’ve had at least four different people warn me away from that place. I don’t understand why anyone would hang out there if the atmosphere is so toxic.”

  “There aren’t many places to hang out,” Graham explained. “If you want a drink, you’re basically stuck with The Cauldron or the highway bar, which has changed names so many times I can’t even remember what it’s called now.”

  “The Bourbon Barn,” Brandon supplied absently.

  “Oh, that’s just the worst name for a bar ever,” Graham muttered. “That’s not even remotely dignified.”

  His response would’ve made me laugh under different circumstances.

  “Like I said, we kept going to the highway bar because I was afraid of running into Gunner before I had a chance to talk to him,” Brandon explained. “I knew he was unlikely to care, but there’s etiquette to these sorts of things.”

  “And what about last night?” Graham prodded. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen last night?”

  Brandon took a moment to consider the question and then shook his head. “No. It was all the usual faces. We played pool. She was hanging out with a few of the other women there and wasn’t ready to go. I had to get up early. She didn’t. She should’ve been safe.”

  Gunner squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “We’re going to find out what happened to her. I promise you that.”

  “Yeah, well ... I think I need to go to the bathroom for a minute. I ... um ... just need to get myself together. I’m sorry.”

  “Take your time,” Graham supplied. “We’ll be waiting when you’re ready. I’ll need a list of the people at the bar last night.”

  “Absolutely. I understand. Just ... give me a few minutes.”

  “Take all the time that you need.”

  GUNNER WAS SHEEPISH WHEN HE FOUND me standing next to my bike in the parking lot an hour later. I’d made myself scarce for the rest of the conversation because I figured it was best for the men. There were things they might’ve needed to say to one another that didn’t require an audience.

  “Where did you go?” Gunner asked. “I was worried you took off without me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, because that sounds just like me,” I drawled. “I often take off without telling you where I’m going.”

  “Actually, you do.”

  “Not since we started dating.”

  “Yeah, well ... I guess that’s true.” He rolled his neck until it cracked and studied the sky. “So ... um ... I promised Brandon I would hang out with him tonight. He’s really upset about what happened to Honey. I think he needs a shoulder.”

  I waited for him to expound. When he didn’t, I merely shook my head. “And you think I’ll hold it against you because you want to be there for your friend?”

  “No,” he replied hurriedly, vehemently shaking his head. “Not in the least. I just ... I wasn’t sure if we had plans.”

  He was amusing when he wanted to be. Heck, he was funny when he wasn’t even trying. This was one of those times where he was inadvertently amusing. “Gunner, last time I checked we weren’t physically sewn together. I’m not your keeper.”

  “No, but ... we’ve been together every night for the past few weeks.”

  “We have. We can miss a night.”

  “I don’t want to miss a night,” he offered quickly. “I like spending time with you. I just ... feel he needs me.”

  “He does need you,” I agreed. “You don’t have to worry about me. I am capable of taking care of myself. Our relationship won’t fall apart because we miss a single night.”

  “I know. I just ... this is embarrassing to admit, but I’ll miss you.”

  His earnest expression made me smile. “I’ll miss you, too. Somehow I think I’ll survive. Besides, your friend needs you. He looked sick before he even got the news. You should take care of him.”

  “I plan on it. We have time. He’s sticking at work because he doesn’t want to go home and do nothing. That gives us a chance to visit the bar on the highway.”

  I was instantly suspicious. “How did you know that’s where I was heading?”

  “I’m not an idiot.”

  “You don’t have to go with me.”

  “Yes, I do. That place is a hole. And I know the regulars. It will be better if we go together.”

  “Are you saying that because we’re co-workers who should have each other’s backs or because you’re an alpha male who believes women need to be protected?”

  “I’m saying it because I want to get answers for my friend. They weren’t together long, but he’s obviously rocked. I want to give him some measure of peace, however small.”

  It was the best possible response. “Then we’ll get him answers. Just for the record, though, I don’t need to be protected.”

  “Oh, I know. You’ve proved that plenty.”

  “I just don’t want you to forget.”

  “I could never.”

  Seven

  “Okay, here’s the situation — you need to let me do the talking once we’re inside.”

  Gunner waited until we were in the parking lot of the Bourbon Barn to take control.

  Instead of reacting with derision — which is what I felt — I reminded myself he was mired in guilt and there might be a legitimate reason for him to suggest such a thing. “And why is that?”

  “Because the people who frequent this establishment are old school.”

  “I need more information than that.”

  He let loose a sigh, one that reminded me of his father when he was trying to get Gunner to see his way of thinking. It almost made me laugh. “I mean that the people who hang out at this place tend to hold to certain gender roles. They want them reinforced, not torn down.”

  I narrowed my eyes, causing him to shift his hips away from me.

  “I knew I should’ve worn a cup for this conversation,” he muttered.

  I held it together, but it took monumental effort. “So, let me get this straight,” I drawled. “You’re saying the people inside are basically a bunch of inbred hicks who believe that women should cater to men. Do I have the gist of it?”

  “I wouldn’t put it so succinctly — and I’m sure not everyone who hangs out here feels the same way — but in a nutshell, yeah, that’s it.”

  Oh, well, this visit was going to be more fun than I’d thought. “I appreciate the heads-up.”

  His expression was hard to read. “Does that mean you’ll let me take the lead?”

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  “See, your tone suggests you won’t.”

  “I have no idea what you mean.” I strode toward the door and then slowed my pace when something occurred to me. “Should I trail behind you, allowing you the dominant position?”

  “I don’t think it matters.”

  “Would it help if I bowed and washed your feet in front of
them?”

  “Ugh.” He made a disgusted sound deep in his throat. “I just knew this was going to turn into a thing.”

  Oh, he had no idea how big of a thing this was going to turn into. Despite my agitation, I waited for him to catch up, and then allowed him to take the lead, bowing low and sweeping out my arm. “Your majesty.”

  “Oh, geez.”

  I had to swallow a laugh at his reaction. The smile I was smothering turned into an outright frown when I entered the bar and took a good look at my surroundings.

  It was every movie’s version of a dive bar. There was no other way to describe it. The floors had probably been shiny and nice at one point, but the wood had rotted in some places and was now uneven. The walls were plastered with every promotional beer sign they’d ever received from distributors and the bar itself looked like a neon nightmare floating in the middle of the room.

  “Oh, well, this is nice,” I drawled. “You should take me to more places like this.”

  Unfortunately for both of us, the music that had been rocking so hard it caused my ribs to vibrate ended right before I said it, so everybody heard. Thankfully there were only about eight people in the establishment, and clearly none of them had faces I particularly wanted to know.

  “I really like what you’ve done with the place,” I offered the burly dude behind the bar, flashing him a sarcastic thumbs-up. “Hepatitis has been on my ‘must get’ list for years. I think this visit will finally put me over the top.”

  The look Gunner shot me was one of disgust, but I thought I caught a hint of something else in his eyes. It might’ve been amusement, but that could’ve been wishful thinking. He cleared his throat and focused on the bartender. “Hank.”

  The ball of fur with a bald spot on the top of his head nodded. “Gunner.” He inclined his head toward the end of the bar. “You and your friend want to take a seat?”

  “That depends,” I replied before Gunner had a chance to respond. “Are we going to stick to the seats? I don’t think it will be worth it if we don’t.”

  Gunner’s hand was deft when it landed on the back of my neck. He squeezed, although not to the point it hurt. He was clearly sending a message. “We would love to sit down.” He prodded me toward the open stools. “You’ll have to excuse my friend here. She grew up in the city and her manners are lacking. She doesn’t even realize it when she’s being rude.”