by Zoe Arden
I shook my head, trying to clear it of the thought. The front door opened and Colt stepped inside. He was grinning. "There you are," he said. "Your aunts told me you were here but I didn't believe them." He picked me up and spun me around the room. I laughed as he put me down.
"I'm so sorry," he said.
"I know. Me, too."
He kissed me and the world around me faded away. It was just him and me and our lips. When I opened my eyes, we were alone.
"Where'd your dad go?" I asked.
Colt shrugged. "No clue. He's good at sneaking around. You wouldn't believe how fast he can move."
I bit my lip and tried not to think about it. Right now, all I wanted to worry about was how I was going to get another kiss from Colt. Turned out that I didn't have to worry. Colt had kissing on his mind as much as I did. I suspected we might be doing that the rest of the night.
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CHAPTER
TWENTY
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Colt and I walked through the park together, hand in hand. Turns out you can only kiss so much before your lips get sore. We'd spent the whole night kissing, and now some walking was in order.
"Can I ask you something?" I said.
"Sure."
"Who do you think killed Trevor?"
His eyes widened. He let out a low chuckle. "I thought you were going to ask me where I wanted to have dinner tonight."
I squeezed his hand. He slipped his arm around my waist. I noticed that he didn't actually answer my question, though.
"Colt..." I said. "You don't think it was Polly, do you?"
"No," Colt said, so fast and so decisively that it startled me.
"Really?"
"Really."
I bit my bottom lip. "What makes you so sure?"
He shrugged. "She's been checking in with me the last few days. I had my doubts at first but yesterday we talked about what happened."
"You did?" I asked, surprised that Polly would open up to a COMHA agent.
"A little."
"And?"
"And I don't think she did it."
I let out a sigh and dropped Colt's hand. It irritated me to no end when he held stuff back. "I know you can't tell me everything about your job but this is vague even for you."
He smiled sheepishly. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice." He let out his own sigh. "Look, I have some ideas I'm working on."
"Me, too," I told him, folding my arms across my chest.
"The only idea you should be working on is what extract you want to pair with Eleanor's chocolate coconut cakes. Leave the sleuthing to us professionals, please." He kissed my forehead. His lips were warm and left their imprint on me.
"What about Calista?" I asked, trying to ignore the tingling in my body. "You're her parole officer, too, right? Did you talk to her about the party?"
Colt's face reddened. "No. I'm not her parole officer anymore."
My head shot up. "Since when?"
"Since the day after the party. Warden Banks talked to Dean and he switched me out."
"For who?"
"Lizzie Rambler." I heard the groan in Colt's voice. "Calista knows Lizzie from Witch Hill, and Dean thought that having two parolees under me might be a bit much, given how crazy things have been here lately. He'd rather have me focus on the investigation of Trevor's death than busy myself with keeping tabs on two convicts."
"But he let you stay on as Polly's parole officer."
"For now."
We continued walking. When we came to a split in the path, I went left and Colt tried to go right. "Let's head this way," I said, linking my arm through his, batting my lashes at him. He smiled and we headed in the direction I wanted.
"Ava... where are we going?" Colt asked as we left the park and re-entered downtown Sweetland.
"To say hi to the sheriff," I said casually.
He paused mid-stride. "You want to talk to Lizzie, don't you?"
Jeez, he’s smart.
"Maybe," I shrugged. Colt folded his arms across his chest and gave me a look. "All right. So, what if I do? You and Polly talked about what happened that night. Maybe Calista talked about it with Lizzie." Though part of me doubted that. Calista hated Lizzie but you never knew. Maybe Lizzie had some ideas of her own about that night. Something she'd gleaned from Calista without her even realizing it.
Colt shook his head. "Fine, but you can ask the questions. I don't need both Sean and Lizzie breathing down my back."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Sean's developed the peculiar habit of following me around. I'm pretty sure the warden put him up to it."
"Really?" I asked, looking around. "I don't see him."
"He's good at hiding. I just try to ignore him."
The sheriff's station was busy when we stepped inside, or maybe it only seemed that way because of the noise. Sheriff Knoxx was yelling at Mayor Otis Winken.
"Can't you do something?" Sheriff Knoxx cried. "You're the mayor, for witch's sake."
Otis nodded. "Yes, Sheriff, I, uh, understand and all." Otis scratched his head and looked at Lizzie. "But I can't, really. Dean Lampton wants Miss Rambler and Mr. Usher here. COMHA outranks even me." He shrugged helplessly.
Lizzie shot the sheriff a triumphant look. Sean walked up behind us, out of nowhere. I hadn't even heard him enter the room. Colt rolled his eyes, and I wondered if Sean had been behind us in the park.
"Uh, if you want, Sheriff," said Otis, "I can leave Tadpole here with you. I'm sure he wouldn't mind, would you, Tadpole?" Otis looked at the skunk who sat perched on his shoulder. Tadpole shook his head. "See, he doesn't mind." Otis set Tadpole on Sheriff Knoxx's desk and Tadpole dug his head into a half-empty bag of potato chips that was lying open. Crunching sounds erupted almost at once.
"What are you two doing here?" Sheriff Knoxx snapped at me and Colt. I bit my tongue and took a breath. It wasn't really us he was agitated with.
"I wanted to talk to Lizzie," I said bluntly.
Lizzie looked surprised for a moment and then smiled at me.
"What's up?" she asked, trying to sound casual, like we were old friends. It was probably a technique that had worked well for her in the past.
"Alone?" I asked, glancing at Colt. He didn't look happy. He was probably worried this would come back to bite him in the butt somehow.
Lizzie and I walked to a side room and slipped in. She raised one eyebrow at me, waiting.
"I heard you're Calista's new parole officer."
"That's right."
"I just wondered what you thought about her. Like, is she capable of murder? Cold-blooded murder, that is." I had to remind myself that Calista had already killed before. It was easy to forget that, as young as she was. That's what had landed her in Witch Hill in the first place. But that had been an accident, hadn't it?
Lizzie's brow tightened. For a moment, I didn't think she would answer. Then she licked her lips and said, "No. I don't think Calista killed Trevor, if that's what you're wondering. Not that it's any of your business."
"You sound pretty sure."
"I am."
"Why?"
"Because," Lizzie said, licking her lips, "the crime is much more Polly's style."
The lights in the room flickered and went out. "What the..." Lizzie said. "Hang on."
I heard the door squeak open. The scent of sulfur wafted into the room. It was so strong I almost gagged on it. "What's going on out there?" Lizzie said and her footsteps trailed away from me. I hurried after her, groping my way through the darkness, unwilling to be left alone in it.
"I don't know what—" Sheriff Knoxx's words were cut off as the lights flickered back on. His face had gone pink. Tadpole sat upright, the hairs on his back on end. He was staring at Otis. I turned my head and saw why. Otis' eyes were pure black. I gasped and backed into Sheriff Knoxx's desk, knocking over his pencil holder. Pens and pencils spill
ed out and rolled onto the floor. I quickly gathered them up before they got lost, and when I looked back at Otis, his eyes were normal again.
"Everything, uh, okay, Ava?" he asked, smiling his goofy grin at me.
"Sure," I said, forcing my own smile. I had no idea if I was imagining things or not but Tadpole seemed to have seen it, too. I shot Tadpole a look but he'd buried his head back in the potato chips.
"Did anyone smell sulfur just now?" Colt asked. His face had gone white.
"I did," I told him.
"Me, too," said Lizzie.
"Well, I didn't," said the sheriff.
"Me either," said Sean.
"It was probably a fuse that blew," Sheriff Knoxx said.
"And fixed itself?" Colt asked dubiously. I took a closer look at him and realized he was breathing heavily. His eyes seemed to stop and fixate on everyone in the room, like he was analyzing them. He'd told me earlier that he had some ideas about what was happening in Sweetland. I wondered if maybe they were just more than ideas. I had the distinct feeling that Colt knew something he wasn't telling me.
"Everything okay, Colt?" I asked.
He looked at me with hard, gray eyes. "Just fine," he said, and I knew he was lying.
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CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
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Now that I knew Sean was following Colt, I kept wondering if I was being followed, too. I might've been paranoid but I kept feeling eyes on my back whenever I walked down the street. Every time I looked around, though, there was no one there.
The door to the bakery chimed and I looked up, happy for the distraction. I'd been worried initially that sales would suffer because of what had happened during my party but it had been the exact opposite. People were dying to get the first scoop on anything related to Trevor's death. They flocked to the bakery in droves, taking home cookies and cupcakes as well as whatever information we let them pull from us.
This wasn't the first time scandal and murder had been attached to my name, or the name of someone in my family. We were getting to be old pros at it and had decided to tell people just enough to keep them from staking us out outside our home—of course, Sean might already have been doing that anyway. Besides, most of Sweetland had been at my party and already knew what had happened. We had very little new information to add.
The afternoon rush had just died and we had a momentary lull that I knew would never last. I was glad when it was Colt who stepped in and not another customer. I wanted the lull to last just a minute longer than I was certain it would. My dad, aunts, and I all needed to catch our breath. Snowball had assured me when I left this morning that she would keep my pillow warm for me. She had finally decided that I was safe at the bakery and she could stay home and sleep.
"Hello, Colt," my dad said, shaking his hand.
"Hey, Eli." They smiled at each other while I tapped my foot.
I knew why Colt was here. I'd texted him earlier that I had something important to tell him. The black mist had slipped my mind the other day during our make-up session but I'd suddenly remembered it last night when I'd gone to clean out Eleanor's car and discovered the box of dark goodies still sitting there, surprisingly free of mold. It made me wonder what else Blossom and Edith were putting in their cupcakes.
"Colt?" I said, grabbing his attention. I nodded in the direction of the back room and shot Eleanor a look. "I'm going to check on my fluffernutter extract," I told her. I was brewing a new batch in back. Eleanor nodded but there was a small smile on her face like she knew better. She probably thought I wanted to be alone with Colt. She was right but probably not for the reasons she thought.
Colt followed me into the back. "So," he said. "What's so important that you forced me to zigzag all over town and lose Sean Usher before coming here?"
"He's still following you?" I asked.
"Like a bad cold." He grinned at his bad joke. I shook my head.
"Blossom told me something a few days ago. I would have told you sooner but then you and Damon got into that fight and..." I shrugged. I still hadn't heard from Damon. I was beginning to wonder what was up with that. I'd meant it when I'd told him that I was happy for him that he had a new girlfriend. I'd moved on, it was only right that he did, too. I just wished that he would reach out to me again if he was really moving back to Heavenly Haven. Maybe I should text him. He might've still thought I was angry.
"When did you talk to Blossom?" Colt asked, slight irritation in his voice. "I told you not to go investigating on your own."
"There's no rule that says I can't go to Mistmoor and ask a few questions."
He sighed and clapped his hand to his head. "So, what did she tell you?"
"The night of my party, she saw a strange black mist just before Trevor was killed."
Colt's eyes lit up at once. "Black mist? She didn't say anything about that to me."
"Well, not everyone wants to spill their guts to a COMHA agent," I said and stuck my tongue out at him. "Anyway, she said it was like a pitch-black cloud that you couldn't see through."
Colt snapped his fingers. "I knew it," he said excitedly.
"Knew what?" I asked. His excitement was contagious. My heart began to palpitate.
"I think I know who killed Trevor."
My heart leaped into my throat and hung there. "Who?" I whispered.
Colt opened his mouth but the door to the back room swung open just then, drawing our attention.
"Mr. Lampton," Colt said, standing a little straighter as Dean walked in.
Eleanor walked in behind him. She gave me an apologetic look. "He just barged in here. Manners are clearly not something Mr. Lampton was brought up with."
Dean looked at Eleanor, his shoulders rolled back, his chest wide. "I don't have time for manners."
Eleanor looked startled for a moment then shook her head and went back out front.
Dean glared at me.
"I need to speak with Detective Hudson. Alone."
"How'd you know he was here?" I asked.
Dean laughed. "It's not exactly shocking that he'd be at the bakery where his girlfriend works. If I can't find him, chances are he's with you."
I blushed, realizing how silly my question had been. Everyone knew that Colt and I were together, even the head of COMHA. I looked at Colt, who mouthed "sorry," then headed out front. I stopped on the other side of the swing door, though, and pressed my ear to it.
"Ava!" Trixie whispered when she saw me, then joined me at the door. Eleanor and my father shook their heads disapprovingly.
"Can you hear anything?" I asked Trixie. She muttered an incantation and suddenly the sound increased five-fold. It sounded like there was no door between us at all.
"Dean," Colt was saying excitedly, "I think I've figured it out."
"Figured what out?" Dean asked.
"Trevor's murder."
"That's precisely what I wanted to talk to you about. Warden Banks contacted me this morning. Says you've been questioning people about him. Is that true?"
"Yes, but I—"
"Why would you question anyone about the warden?" Dean asked, his voice rising.
"Because it's part of my job to question people," Colt said defensively, his voice rising as well.
"Not about the warden. You need to leave him and his guards alone." Dean sounded as if he was barely containing his rage.
"I will conduct my investigation any way I see fit," Colt shouted back at him. "If that means investigating Warden Banks and his guards, then I will. If that means investigating you, then I will."
I bit my lip. Colt was pushing Dean too far. He was gonna blow his top any second now.
"Investigate me?" Dean yelled, shock ringing in his voice. "Why would you do that?"
"Because I go where the clues lead me."
"You're saying you think I had something to do with Trevor Bailey's death?" Dea
n snapped, his voice ripping across the bakery. Trixie and I no longer needed a charm to hear him better. He could probably be heard next door. The bakery door chimed, announcing a new customer.
Colt was still shouting. "I'm saying—"
The lights in the bakery flickered and went out. There was a loud noise, like a popcorn kernel exploding, and a yell that sounded like someone had been hurt. I couldn't tell who had made it, though. I pushed the door open just as the lights flickered back on.
"What happened?" I asked. Then my eyes focused on the figures before me. Colt was lying on the floor, bleeding. He was unconscious. I couldn't tell whether he was breathing.
Dean was standing over him, a stunned look on his face. A large cake knife lay at his feet. He looked up at me, his face white, and said, "I didn't do it."
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CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
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I ran to Colt, trying to shake him awake. There was no sign of movement from him. Not even a flutter of his eyelids.
"I didn't do it," Dean repeated.
"Help me!" I yelled but Dean seemed stuck. His face had frozen. His feet refused to move.
I left Colt's side and ran out front. "Colt's been hurt!" I shouted as I pushed through the doors. My eyes froze on Damon, who was facing the display counters. Looking in the window behind him was Sean. He took off running when I saw him.