Chapter Eleven
As much as I hated leaving the warmth of Alec and the bed, I wanted to get a jump on the day. Sara was likely roaming the town already, killing whatever obstacles the game put in front of her—though not very well, according to Lewis.
Alec reached for me as I rolled to the edge of the bed. “I thought we were sleeping in.”
“We did. It’s seven.”
“That’s hardly a lie-in.”
“It is when you have an old dog and a school-aged daughter.”
He slid across the bed and tried to urge me back into bed. “Your suspect is probably still snoring.”
“Then you haven’t been paying attention. These players don’t mess around.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stretched. “Are you coming to Thornhold for dinner tonight? Aunt Hyacinth specifically invited you because Philip Muldoon will be there. I think she wants as many buffers as possible.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass,” he said. “If I spend most of the day with you, my book will require my attention this evening.”
“That book is like your mistress.”
He smiled. “Ember, are you jealous of a book?”
“No, I’m jealous of the attention your book gets compared with me.”
He kissed my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. It’s just that I’ve been battling with the murky middle and finally had a breakthrough.”
I craned my neck to look at him. “I know. You don’t have to explain. It’s not like I have nothing else to do. I just like spending time with you.” I shifted to face him. “That thing you said about your therapy appointment…When you asked if you were a mistake.”
His smile melted away. “We needn’t speak of it. A mere slip of the tongue.”
“Just so we’re clear—you could never be a mistake, Alec.”
He entwined his fingers with mine. “Then come back to bed and prove it.”
“Ha! Manipulation will get you nowhere.”
“Very well then.” He peeled back the sheet and rose to his feet. “I’ll cook breakfast, shall I?”
“Watch out for any gifts Raoul might have snuck into the house during the night. You don’t want to step on a jelly donut.”
“Indeed.”
I showered and dressed and was pleased to inhale the aroma of bacon and eggs on my way downstairs. Nope, the vampire was definitely not a mistake.
Raoul was in the kitchen staring longingly at the plates on the table. Alec seemed obvious to the raccoon. He gazed out the window as he sipped his coffee, probably lost in a world of his own creation.
“One piece, Raoul, but that’s it,” I said.
The raccoon swiped a strip of bacon from my plate and devoured it. Where’s the kid?
She stayed overnight at a friend’s.
So this fangaroo could hop into your pouch?
I joined Alec at the table and turned my back to Raoul. Don’t you have gifts to receive down at the dump from your newfound admirers?
Raoul scampered to the kitchen door. You’re right. I bet I get more than a measly scrap of bacon too.
Ungrateful trash panda. I didn’t have to share at all.
Sure you did. It’s one of the first provisions of the Familiar Pact.
“Would you like tea or coffee?” Alec asked.
“Right now I want to inhale my food, but thanks.”
Raoul pushed open the door and let it slam shut behind him.
“Someone’s in a mood,” Alec said.
“I don’t know why. He’s being treated like the king of the dump lately. You’d think he’d be ecstatic.” I shoveled eggs into my mouth. “Breakfast is delicious. Thank you.”
“The most important meal of the day.”
I gnawed on a strip of bacon as I checked the game on my phone. I was pleased to see that Sara had accepted my friend request. “Want to come with me to talk to Sara? You said we could make a date of it.”
He smiled behind his coffee mug. “And I believe you said that was macabre.”
“Maybe you could flash your fangs and intimidate her into spilling the beans,” I said.
“And if she’s innocent? What will I have accomplished then?”
I wagged a piece of bacon at him. “Good point. Maybe just stand behind me and look hot.” I crunched the bacon.
“Perhaps I could be helpful in some other capacity.”
“Nope. Just smolder behind me. That’s all I need.” My phone lit up with a text. “Marley wants me to pick her up in an hour.” If I hustled, I’d have just enough time to track down Sara first. “Would you mind taking the dog for a quick walk? I need to get moving.”
Alec swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “I did say I wanted to be helpful.”
I laughed. “And now you’re regretting it.”
“Care to rendezvous for lunch?”
I pushed back my chair. “Raincheck. I’ll have Marley and I also want to look through the information I got from the archives about Ivy.” I’d been so focused on Clark’s murder that I’d barely given the list a second glance.
His brow lifted. “Anything illuminating?”
“Not sure yet. It’s possible, but I don’t want to get my hopes up.” I cleared our plates from the table and deposited them in the sink. “Stay as long as you like. PP3 seems used to you now.”
“Raoul seems resentful.”
“Raoul resents anyone that isn’t feeding him.” On my way to the door, I stopped to give Alec a goodbye kiss. “I think I’ll ride the broomstick you bought me.”
“What about Marley? She won’t want to ride home with you on it, will she?”
“You know what? She has to learn as part of the curriculum at the Black Cloak Academy. She might as well sneak in a little practice with her mother. It’s not far from Lucy’s house, so she won’t have to ride very long.” And I’d fly lower to the ground so as not to exacerbate her anxiety.
I left the kitchen and looked around the cottage for my broomstick. I didn’t get to fly as often as I liked, but now seemed like the perfect time to hop on board. The dog lifted his tired head from his front paws.
“Do you know where my broomstick is?” I asked.
PP3 seemed to understand my question because he jumped down and trotted to the coat closet where he sniffed along the crack between the door and the floor. I opened the door and saw the broomstick hanging on a hook like a coat.
“Clever dog,” I said, and bent down to pat the Yorkie’s head.
He barked in acknowledgement and I grabbed my purse before heading outside. According to the game map, Sara was at Muse Fountain just as Lewis predicted. It seemed she was struggling to complete the challenge.
I straddled the broomstick and prepared for takeoff. Flying was very much like riding a bike. Actually, it was even easier because there was no need to pedal. I only needed to not plummet hundreds of feet to the earth and die a painful death. Okay, maybe not easier.
I launched into the air and felt a rush of excitement as the wind blasted through my hair. Flying truly was an exhilarating experience. There was also the added bonus that I was good at it. There weren’t too many things I could say that about with confidence.
I spotted the troll from the air and landed on the opposite side of Muse Fountain. With my broom in hand, I waltzed around the perimeter of the fountain to where Sara was seated with her back against the base of the fountain. At first I thought she was engrossed in the game until I saw her pull out a handkerchief and blow her nose. It was only then that I realized she was crying.
“Sara?” I approached with caution because Sara was a rather large troll. Even seated on the ground she reached my chest.
The troll looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes. Water marks streaked her cheeks and the end of her wide nose looked sore and angry. “What do you want?” she snapped.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. My name is Ember Rose and I’m a reporter for the local paper. I was hoping to ask you a few questions about the tournament.
”
She jerked her phone toward me. “Do I look like I can answer questions? I’m stuck on this challenge and I can’t level up until I complete it. It’s already Sunday and I’m losing valuable time.” Her face grew flushed.
“Unfortunately, my questions are more pressing than your challenge. I need to ask you about Clark.”
She rubbed her eye. “Who’s Clark?”
I could tell from her expression that she knew exactly who Clark was. “Pro tip—don’t ever try to play poker. You’ll lose big time.”
Sara hobbled to her feet. “Watch what you say, lady. I don’t lose, okay? I might be slow to win, but I do not lose.”
I folded my arms. “How long have you been trying to acquire the knife?”
Her guilty glance told me what I needed to know. “There’s a glitch,” she said. “I should have gotten that knife yesterday. It’s the game’s fault.”
Right. “I’m surprised there aren’t more players congregated here if it’s a glitch. How are the other players managing to get past it?”
“Cheaters,” she said heatedly. “Some of the others cheat and gang up on players like me.”
“Gang up how?”
She scrunched her face in a show of frustration. “They help each other, but they don’t help me.”
“Why don’t we talk about Clark?”
“Sure, why not? He’s one of them. His little group always helps each other and they blow right past me like I don’t exist.”
“Did that happen today?” I asked.
“Of course. Every tournament.” She straightened her shoulders. “But I don’t need them. I can win on my own.”
It didn’t seem likely. “Are you telling me you saw Clark yesterday or today?”
“I’m sure he was in that group that I passed at Haverford House yesterday.”
“What time was that?” I asked.
“Maybe noon.”
Either Sara was lying because she knew better or she really didn’t know about Clark. I found it incredible that these players were so enthralled by the game that they blocked out everything else.
“Sara, you couldn’t have seen Clark at noon yesterday.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Now you’re telling me I’m wrong about what I saw with my own two eyes? You’re as bad as the rest of them.”
Sara seemed to suffer from a victim complex. That explained her failure to succeed. She probably spent most of her time getting in her own way.
“You can’t have seen Clark at noon yesterday because he’d already been dead for about six hours.”
Sara jutted out her sizable chin. “Then I must’ve seen his ghost.”
Wow. The denial was strong in this troll. “Other than his ghost, when did you last see Clark?”
Sara perched on the edge of the fountain. Half her trousers hung over the edge and grazed the water, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Friday, on the way to my B&B,” she said. “I saw him and his buddy at that coffee shop, the Caffeinated Cauldron.”
“Did you stop to talk to them?”
Her nostrils flared. “Why would I? They don’t like to talk to me because they know I’m going to win and they’re jealous.”
“How many of these tournaments have you won?”
She shifted her bottom slightly. “I would win all of them, except for these glitches. They probably did something to my phone when I was in the coffee shop. That must be why I can’t get the knife.”
“Maybe you could have someone take a look at your phone and make sure it’s functioning properly,” I said, knowing perfectly well that her phone hadn’t been tampered with. I’d met people like Sara back in New Jersey, especially in my old line of work. Professional victims that loved to blame everyone else for their problems and never take responsibility for their own behavior. When you repossess cars for a living, you’re bound to encounter a lot of these people.
“I had an elf look at it earlier—they’re usually good at tinkering—but he said he couldn’t find anything wrong with mine.” She scowled. “I think he was friends with Clark and that crew. He probably wants one of them to win.”
“I doubt everyone wants Clark to win,” I said, unable to keep my mouth shut. “Since he won the last one, I’m sure they’d rather someone else manage it this time around.”
Sara snapped her sausage fingers. “That reminds me—when I was in the coffee shop, I saw Clark get into an argument with a werewolf.”
“Another player?”
“I think so,” she said. “Someone called him Benny. He was wearing a fedora, which looked really stupid.”
A werewolf in a fedora shouldn’t be too difficult to locate. “Do you know what they were arguing about?”
“No, I missed that part, but Clark got all red-faced, which made him look like one of those tiny Christmas trees.” She smiled at the memory.
“Thanks, Sara. That’s helpful.” I shot off a quick text to the sheriff to track down a fedora-wearing werewolf named Benny.
“Well, yeah. Of course it is. I’m not like those other guys. A rising tide lifts all boats, except the one I’m in. That one, they’d rather torpedo.”
Wow. She couldn’t even accept a gracious comment without playing the victim card. “Maybe you could ask someone to help you get the knife,” I said.
“I don’t need help,” she snapped. “I do it all on my own. That’s why they can’t stand me.”
Yes, that’s why.
As she turned away from me, I spotted a wet patch across her bottom. If this had been anyone else, I probably would’ve let them know and performed a quick drying spell.
“Have a good day, Sara,” I said cheerfully.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” the troll snarled. She gave me the finger and kept walking.
Chapter Twelve
Marley wasn’t thrilled when I arrived at her friend’s house on a broomstick, but, to her credit, she rode home without complaint. She did, however, leave indentation marks on my waist.
“Have you found the killer yet?” Marley asked, once we were safely on the ground.
“Not yet. Still working on it.” I unlocked the cottage door with a twinge of sadness, knowing that Alec would be gone. Maybe I should’ve stayed in bed with him instead of chasing after a dead end. Then again, there was no way to know Sara was a dead end without speaking to her—and she did provide me with another lead. A sigh escaped my lips. I guess I was as guilty of immersing myself in a project as Alec. Then again, he was using work to avoid emotions and self-reflection. I was…What was my excuse?
“What’s the matter, Mom?”
“I’m disappointed that Clark’s killer is still out there.” I managed a smile. “How was your sleepover?”
“Great. We stayed up until past midnight.” She dropped her bag and raced to the sofa to pet the dog. PP3 licked her hand like it was made of chicken and peanut butter.
“So that means an early bedtime tonight.”
She pulled a face. “We have dinner at Aunt Hyacinth’s though. That runs late.”
“Not tonight it won’t. I have too much to do.” I’d been pushing aside everything except the investigation. I needed to regroup.
“That reminds me. I still have homework to finish.”
I thought about Ivy’s list of words on my phone. “Why don’t we do homework together?”
Marley beamed as though I’d offered her a brownie sundae with extra whipped cream. Only my child would be elated to tackle homework in tandem with her mother.
“I’ll get my backpack.” She ran upstairs and returned in record time. “What are you working on?”
I sat on the sofa and opened the notes app on my phone where I’d typed Ivy’s seemingly random words. “I was able to get access to information about Ivy’s problems with the coven.”
Marley’s mouth formed a circle. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve been too busy to give it any attention.” I studied the unfamiliar words. “The coven se
emed to think her magic was driving her mad.”
“Is that why they took it away?”
I nodded. “There was a trial where they interrogated her. Ivy’s answers were lucid, but she would sprinkle in foreign words that seemed to have no place in the sentence.”
Marley joined me on the sofa and peered at the list. “I know that word. Shamash means sun.”
I looked at her agape. “How?” I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. Marley’s knowledge far exceeded my own when it came to anything remotely academic.
Marley pressed her lips together, deep in thought. “It was a spell we did in class to help plants grow. The teacher said it was an ancient spell and that’s why the key words were in ancient Sumerian instead of Latin.”
My eyes widened. “You think these words are ancient Sumerian?”
She leaned over my shoulder and examined the other words. “I think so.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! I recognize these. They’re the elements.” She tapped the screen. “Were they written in all capital letters?”
“No.”
“That’s probably because the coven scribe didn’t realize what she was saying. That’s why they assumed they were nonsense.” She pointed. “Kia is earth, but you’d spell it K-I-A. Ag should be A-G and it means fire.”
“I guess they could still be the ramblings of a madwoman,” I said.
“No, I don’t think so.” Her face was aglow. Nothing seemed to energize my daughter more than knowledge. “Mom, I think it’s an incantation.”
My pulse sped up. “What makes you think that?”
“These aren’t random words. You said they were sprinkled throughout her answers?”
“Yes, KIA was in the middle of one sentence. AG was in the middle of another answer. They weren’t together.”
“Well, they’re connected. They make sense when read together.”
My whole body tingled. I knew Ivy wasn’t crazy—that there’d been a rhyme or reason for the words. I’d felt it in my bones.
Marley’s gaze met mine. “Why do you think she did that?”
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