“I’ll check with Bolan and see if he’s had better luck,” the sheriff said.
“Would you mind dropping me back at my car? I want to pick up Marley since I promised her that we could play the game today.”
“No problem.”
I also wanted to be able to keep my ears open for information. If there was a player in town cold-blooded enough to kill more than the paranormals in the game, then we were all at risk.
Chapter Four
I picked up an eager Marley and we headed back to Palmetto House so that I could check on Linnea. Marley happily ran to the backyard to play with the other gamers.
“Any sign of Philip?” I asked. Linnea and Aster were in the kitchen, baking a pie for dessert this evening. I inhaled the scent of cinnamon and cloves.
“Not yet,” Linnea said. “He’s not answering his phone either, but that’s not a surprise. According to some of the players I’ve met today, they turn notifications off during the tournament so an incoming text or call can’t screw them up.”
I surveyed the kitchen floor. “Good job cleaning. You can’t even tell there was a murder committed here earlier today.”
Linnea scowled. “I had to wait for the green light. Deputy Bolan was methodical. I swear he even checked in the nooks and crannies of the nooks and crannies.”
“Well, I would think that’s what you’d want from the deputy investigating your murder,” Aster said. She dusted the flour from her hands and placed them on her hips. “Now, can we talk about performing a cleansing spell on the house?”
I frowned. “I thought you just said you cleaned already.”
“I’m not talking about the blood,” Aster said. “I’m talking about expelling the negative energy. You don’t want any lingering malevolence as a result of the murder. That’s a recipe for an angry ghost.”
Linnea heaved a sigh. “Like I don’t have enough to do as it is. I still have guests and players meandering around my yard.”
Aster moved to the cupboard and began pulling out jars of herbs. “Come on. It won’t take long. Who knows? Maybe it will even help speed along the investigation.”
My eyes widened. “The cleansing spell can do that?” In that case, why didn’t the sheriff keep a witch or wizard on his payroll?
Aster shrugged. “Not really, but wouldn’t it be nice?” She set the jars on the counter. “We need to close all the doors and windows before we start.”
My gaze swept the kitchen. “Wouldn’t it make sense to keep them open? Doesn’t the negative energy need somewhere to go?”
“That’s not how it works,” Linnea said. “Have you not done one of these before?” She quickly shook her head. “Of course not. Why would you have? Well, Mother will be pleased. She’ll consider this a learning opportunity for you.”
“Does that mean I can skip one of my lessons this week?” I asked hopefully. Thanks to a change in the lineup, Marigold and Hazel were both scheduled for Monday.
“I sincerely doubt it,” Aster said. “You know how committed Mother is to making sure you’re a witch of the highest caliber.”
“You know what they say,” I said. “Shoot for the stars and disappoint everyone.” I crossed the room to close the window over the kitchen sink. “What else do we need to do?”
“You two prepare the spell and I’ll go close the other windows,” Linnea said. “I know the one in Hudson’s bedroom is open because I had to air out the smell of stinky gym socks.” As an athletic teenager, Hudson hadn’t yet mastered the lost art of cleaning up after himself. “Further proof that he is his father’s son.” Linnea headed downstairs to the family living quarters.
“I need a bucket of water,” Aster said.
I located a small bucket under the sink and started to fill it. “I hope your cousin is okay.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Aster said. “Cousin Philip is like a tumbleweed. He just trundles along haphazardly without a care in the world. It’s one of the qualities that Mother despises about him.”
I snorted. “It seems an odd thing to despise. I can understand if he leaves nail clippings on the kitchen counter or puts the toilet paper roll on the wrong way, but why is living his best life a problem?”
“His behavior simply doesn’t fit her view of what a Muldoon should be,” Aster said. “I was much younger at the time, of course, but I remember having a very clear sense of how she felt about him.”
“She doesn’t exactly have a poker face,” I said. More like a you’ll-wish-you’d-been-smacked-with-a-cast-iron-skillet face. “It’s a shame that Philip hasn’t been back since your father’s funeral. Even though your mother doesn’t like him, it sounds like the three of you might have missed out on a good relationship with him.” I knew what that was like. My own father had spirited me away after my mother’s death and took me to live in the human world, away from the influence of Aunt Hyacinth. I grew up in Maple Shade, New Jersey, not knowing that I was descended from a long line of esteemed witches and wizards. As direct descendants of the One True Witch, members of the Rose family were like minor celebrities in Starry Hollow simply because of our DNA.
“I’m glad Philip decided to come for the tournament,” Aster said. “At least it gave him an excuse to see us.” She joined me at the sink and placed a squat candle in the bucket to float on the surface of the water. Then she tipped in the mixture of herbs.
“Windows are done,” Linnea said, returning to the kitchen.
Aster pulled out her wand and aimed it at the candle. “Incendo.” A flame flickered and Aster scooped up the bucket. “We need to stand in the middle of each room and place the bucket between us. She turned and put the bucket on the floor of the kitchen. “We should start here since this room is the most affected.”
She wiggled her fingers, so Linnea and I stood on either side of her and joined hands.
“Close your eyes and imagine that all the negative energy is being drawn to the fire,” Linnea said.
“Do we chant?” I asked. It seemed like a safe assumption.
“Yes, emigro, evanesco,” Aster said. “You’ll feel the shift in the air when the room has been cleansed. Then we’ll move on to the next room. We need to do the whole house because we don’t know which rooms might be impacted.”
We’d only managed two rounds of chants when there was a knock at the kitchen door. Linnea groaned in exasperation and opened the door. An elf stood on the step, hopping from foot to foot.
“The bathroom is around the corner,” Linnea said, pointing. The elf rushed forward and Linnea poked her head outside. “If anyone else needs the bathroom, do it now! We can’t have these interruptions or the ritual will be ruined!”
No one else came forward and Linnea slammed the door behind the retreating elf. I texted Marley to wait outside until I said otherwise.
We completed the ritual in the kitchen without interruption this time. I felt the shift, just the way Linnea had described it.
“Can all witches do this?” I asked.
“I would think so,” Aster said. “Why?”
“I don’t always know which abilities are special, like One True Witch genes at work, and which ones are routine coven magic.”
“The more magic you perform, the more you’ll learn the difference,” Aster said.
I suppressed a smile. “Now you sound like Aunt Hyacinth.”
“It’s true though,” Aster said. “Eventually, you’ll develop an innate sense of what’s ‘normal witch’ and what’s ‘superpower witch.’”
“Did you ever perform magic so powerful that you worried you’d lose control?” I asked.
Aster and Linnea exchanged looks. “Is this about Ivy again?” Linnea asked.
I lowered my gaze to stare into the bucket. “Maybe.”
“I’d worry more about mastering the basics and less about burning down the town,” Aster said.
I reeled back. “Did Ivy burn down the town?”
Aster clutched her pearls. “Goddess no, it was just an ex
treme example,” she said.
“Let’s do Clark’s room next,” Linnea said.
“Good idea,” Aster said.
As we went to each room of the house, I understood why Linnea was annoyed with having to perform the spell. The house cleanse was incredibly time-consuming. I felt uneasy in Clark’s room, as though icy fingers were trailing down my spine. Even though I was sure it was all in my head, it made me chant faster and with more enthusiasm in the hopes that any residual energy would dissipate quickly. Once we finished the final room, we carried the bucket to the front door and extinguished the flame. Linnea took the bucket down the front steps and walked to the edge of her property line, where she poured the contents on the ground.
“We need to open a window now,” Aster said.
“I’ll go back to the kitchen and open the one over the sink,” I offered. As I pushed up the pane, I spotted Philip coming up the back steps. The kitchen door opened and the wizard snapped back at the sight of me.
“Sorry about that,” he said, breaking into nervous laughter. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone so close to the door.” He held up his phone. “It probably doesn’t help that I have my nose buried in this.”
“How’s it going?” I asked.
He crossed the threshold into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. “Not too bad. I managed to pick up extra gold after lunch, so that was a boon.” He sniffed the air. “The pie smells delicious.”
Linnea and Aster appeared in the doorway at the sound of Philip’s voice.
“Thank the gods,” Linnea said. “Where have you been? We’ve been worried about you.”
Philip’s brow furrowed. “What’s the problem? I’ve been busy with the tournament all day.”
“Do you know about Clark?” I asked.
Philip scratched his head. “What about him? Did he win already?” He made a dismissive noise. “No, that’s not possible. No one could have reached the Emerald Chalice yet.”
“Philip,” Linnea said gently. “Clark is dead. Someone murdered him this morning.”
Philip seemed to slowly digest the news. “Where?”
Aster pointed. “Exactly where you’re standing now.”
Philip instinctively jumped backward as though the leprechaun’s body was still there. “Someone killed Clark in your kitchen?”
“Believe me, I’m about as thrilled as you would expect,” Linnea said. “The killer used my good cast iron skillet.”
“Who would do such a thing?” Philip asked.
“I know,” Linnea said. “They could have at least had the decency to use their own pan.”
“Has the murderer been caught?” Philip asked.
“No,” I said. “The sheriff and deputy are investigating. We looked for you earlier at Haverford House. We thought you might be battling the dragon there.”
Philip expelled a breath. “I was, but it took me longer to get there than I expected. My battle with the magic eel delayed me.”
“There’s a magic eel?” I asked. “Is that a real thing?”
“It’s a secret challenge you can unlock for extra gold,” Philip said. “Clark’s actually the one who told me about it. He discovered it last night during his practice session and showed me the screenshot.”
“It’s like the nerd version of a selfie,” I said.
“After that I ran out of supplies and had to go and do an extra challenge to replenish.” He paused. “That’s all gibberish to you, isn’t it?”
“We need to let the sheriff know that you’re here,” I said. “He’ll want to speak to you.”
Philip continued to glance at his phone, seemingly unable to stop playing the game during this important conversation. “I’m not sure how much help I can be. I don’t know anything. I haven’t even seen him since last night.”
“How late?” I asked.
“Maybe midnight. We were both in the backyard completing extra challenges to stock up on gold and supplies for this morning.”
“Was it just the two of you?” I asked.
He swiped on his phone. “No, Lewis was there and a few other players came by.”
“Did anything unusual happen?” I asked. “Any arguments that involved Clark?”
Philip considered the question. “As a matter of fact, yes. A werebear by the name of Buck was giving Clark a hard time.”
“About what?” I asked.
“Clark took a box of flamethrowers after they raided a vampire’s nest together,” Philip said.
“I assume we’re talking about the game,” I said.
“That’s right. Sometimes you can complete challenges as a team when they’re particularly difficult. During that time, certain items become the community property of the group and some of the more unscrupulous players will walk off with items they didn’t own at the beginning of the challenge,” Philip explained.
“I imagine Buck was unhappy about this,” I said.
Philip nodded. “I ended up having to use magic to calm them down. Trust me when I tell you that doesn’t happen very often.”
“Cousin Philip doesn't tend to use magic,” Linnea said. “He’s more of a non-practicing wizard.”
“Not so much non-practicing as not-so-eagerly practicing,” Philip said. “I spend a lot of time in the human world, so I find it makes sense to limit how often I use magic.”
I imagined that was something else Aunt Hyacinth didn’t like about him. She took great pride in the powers of the Rose-Muldoon family and was probably personally offended that someone with inherent talent like Philip’s would choose to ignore it.
“Any chance you know where we can find Buck?” I asked.
Philip tapped on his phone screen. “I passed him about an hour ago. He was headed due east away from the beach.”
“Can you describe him?” I asked.
Philip wore a vague smile. “He’s about what you’d expect a werebear to look like.”
“The huggable kind or the grizzly kind?” I asked.
Philip rubbed his chin. “A mixture, I’d say. He’s wearing a Chicago Bears T-shirt, if that helps.”
“Can I get you something to eat or drink, Philip?” Linnea asked.
“I just came in for a quick snack and a bathroom break,” Philip said. “Then I’m heading straight back out. From what I hear, there are only a handful of players ahead of me. I still have a shot at winning.”
“I’d make myself available to the sheriff if I were you,” I said. “He’d like nothing better than to annoy Aunt Hyacinth by locking up one of her relatives and making her come down to the office to bail you out.”
Philip chuckled. “I think she’d rather let me rot, but I promise I’ll reach out and let him know where he can find me. I have an ogre to defeat next.”
“Cousin Philip, I’m surprised,” Linnea said. “I don’t recall you being so competitive.”
Philip gave us a sheepish grin. “I’m not really. Occasionally, I’ll get caught up in the spirit of the game. When you realize winning is actually a possibility, you tend to feel a little more compelled to achieve, although we still have tomorrow to get through.”
It seemed to me that nothing about what happened today was in the spirit of the game. A player was down and everyone carried on like it was business as usual. When you spent most hours of the day killing paranormals on a screen, an actual death probably did seem like business as usual. The fact that Clark was killed by iron didn’t help either.
“Good luck with the rest of the tournament,” I said. “I guess I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow at Thornhold.”
“I look forward to it,” Philip said.
My gaze drifted to the floor where Clark’s body had been. Too bad for the leprechaun it was game over.
Chapter Five
Sheriff Nash was busy questioning a couple of players who’d been spotted with Clark on Friday afternoon before the tournament officially started, so Deputy Bolan and I were given the task of tracking down Buck. We found the werebear wander
ing the pavement not far from the Black Cloak Academy. With his broad physique and T-shirt with the Chicago Bears logo, he was easy to spot. He appeared a little lost, staring at his phone and then glancing around at his surroundings. Deputy Bolan pulled the car alongside the curb and rolled down the window.
“Are you Buck?” the deputy asked.
“Yeah, that’s me.” The werebear barely glanced up from his phone. “Can you tell me where the ash tree is? According to the game, it should be right around here.” He looked over each shoulder. “I don’t see any big ash tree though.” He chuckled to himself. “Big ash tree. Like ass. Get it?”
“How many hours straight have you been playing this game?” I asked. To be fair, he wasn’t alone. Wyatt would have appreciated the joke.
“Not long enough to win, apparently,” Buck said. “I definitely think it’s going to take someone until late tomorrow afternoon. This tournament is harder than the last one.”
“I think you’re looking for the Tree of Bounty,” Deputy Bolan said. “I know where it is. Why don’t you get in the back and I’ll drive you there?”
Buck seemed pleased with this development. “That’s what I call service.” He slid into the backseat and closed the door. “The last time I was in the back of a cop car was under much less pleasant circumstances.”
Well, that was an interesting tidbit. I craned my neck to look at him. “Drunk and disorderly?”
“No…” He stopped to think. “Actually, yes. I was so drunk I forgot I was drunk.” He slapped his knee. “I ended up with two black eyes, but you should’ve seen Sheila.”
My eyes popped. “Sheila?”
“Relax, she’s a Yeti. She usually kicks my ash.” He laughed again at his joke.
“What did you do to deserve two black eyes?” I asked.
“I accidentally drank her bottle of Moscato.”
I frowned. “How do you accidentally drink someone’s bottle of wine?”
He shrugged. “I thought it was sparkling water. I chugged it so fast that I didn’t notice her freaking out until she was pummeling me.”
“Hence the drunk and disorderly,” I said.
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