by Ann Denton
Saffron says the next words in a harsh whisper. “Well, I don’t know what to think. Georgina died after your guys touched her—I pushed down that search warrant because you said your collection notices—yeah, well my husband was there at the fire. He saw a guy climbing out the window. You have about a hundred goons—well, maybe it is what I think of you. Jacob almost died!” We hear a click. Saffron’s done on the phone.
Ben’s eyes turn to me. “What a convenient place to lose that bracelet.”
I shrug.
He gestures for me to proceed down the hall in front of him. “Sounds like Saffron just fell out with her partner in crime. Hopefully, that means she’s ready to talk.”
“Hopefully.”
I stride up the hallway, glad to have a clear direction—on the murder case at least.
“Our other conversation isn’t over Ly-ly,” Ben’s whisper drifts over my neck.
“I know,” I grit my teeth as we emerge onto the main floor of the police station. I just have no clue what to say. Or even think. The personal issue is going to require massive dissection with JR. And a couple bottles of wine.
In front of me, Jacob looks like he could use a drink. His face is patched, and his eyes are haggard. I give him a hug. Saffron walks up just then and it’s all I can do to resist giving her a death glare.
Bennett joins the happy group. “I’ve got a conference room lined up. I’ll need to take some statements.”
“I’ll wait in the lobby, hon,” Saffron tells Jacob.
“Actually, Judge Watts, if you don’t mind joining us, I’d like to take your statement too.”
She raises her eyebrows but doesn’t comment as we make our way into the conference room. Ben stops for a sec and has a word with an officer before opening the door and ushering us toward a large table.
Jacob and I tell our versions of the fire episode. While we’re talking, a police officer opens the door and sticks his head into the room. He gives Ben a thumbs up before popping back out. No explanation.
Ben ignores my raised brows. Instead, he turns to Saffron.
“Judge Watts, are you aware the station is surrounded by spelled surveillance?”
“I—” she definitely goes pale. “I believe I may have forgotten that.”
“I believe you may have,” Bennett fights a smirk. I’m about to give a mini fist pump under the table because Ben found a way to collect the evidence of her conversation legally.
But I see Jacob’s expression as he watches his wife. My hand stills. Instead I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze.
“Judge Watts, may I ask who you were on the phone with just now?”
Saffron’s look is pure panic. “I plead the fifth and demand an attorney immediately.”
“Judge Watts, I haven’t accused you of anything yet. I was hoping to get a statement from you.” Ben pauses a moment to see if Saffron will relent. She doesn’t. “Unfortunately, on your phone conversation just now, you admitted to pushing down a search warrant.”
“I—I—” she sputters.
“You’ll be charged with obstruction of justice at a minimum. I doubt Gruff will want to keep on a judge with ethical issues. I have no doubt the voting public will take great interest in a City Council candidate with an open case—”
Saffron turns pleading eyes to Jacob.
Jacob is stoic. Still. She breaks.
“I’ve … been having an affair with Matthew Boolye. That’s who was on the phone.”
Chapter 17
Jacob drops my hand. I turn to look at him. He stands and shifts, shredding the clothes he’s wearing. I stand up and pull open the door for his coyote. I look at Ben. “I’m going too.”
Ben nods and tosses me his keys. I tilt my head in question. He waves me off as Saffron collapses with a sob.
I turn to follow Jacob, but he’s already made it outside. A lone howl fills the night with heartbreak.
There is no way I can keep up with Jacob in coyote form. I let him run it out and call a Broomer to bring me back to his house. I wait on the stoop and stare at the stars until he arrives an hour later.
He uses a spell associated with his coyote form to let us in the front door.
As he trots off to the bedroom to change I call out after him, "Pack a bag. You're sleeping at my place."
He doesn't respond, but I assume he's following orders. I search his living room where I do indeed find my phone stuck between the couch cushions.
I text Bennett. Taking Jacob to my place. You can come by to grab your keys whenever.
He texts back. Going to see Matthew Boolye. And those are your keys now.
It's just a text, but it sends shivers up my spine. Do I want the key to Bennett's place? Isn’t it too soon? Too scary? We haven’t even been on a date!
I desperately want to call JR, but it's mid-evening, they're down a paralegal since I'm out, and if the Saffron obstruction-of-justice gossip has gotten out, they're also down a judge. She's gonna be knee-deep in it.
Another text dings my phone. Do not freak out Ly. I didn't mean it like that. I meant, those keys are yours because I don't expect to get them back. Loser. Of things.
Good. Because I already lost the keys, Stalker. I lost them like I lost that bracelet earlier. Hope you enjoy the visit from the big hulking troll I gave them to.
Ha-ha.
Jacob's still not out of the bedroom. I text Ben one more thing. Did you formally charge Saffron?
I don't get to decide charges Ly. But yeah based on the video, they did.
She in custody?
Lawyered up.
Okay. Thanks.
I don't know how long Jacob and I have until Saffron gets back. We'd better get a move on.
"Jacob!" I clap my hands. He doesn't respond, so I walk into the bedroom. I find him dressed, and human form, slumped over on the bed. For a second, I feel a sense of out-of-body déjà vu. I have the feeling that I looked the exact same way when I found out my dad had brain cancer. Jacob was the one to find me then.
That's how I decide what we need to do next. When Jacob found me, he forced me out of bed and took me to twelve different automotive shops with him while he searched for a part for his vintage Ford Mustang.
"Chop chop! We've got a murder to solve!" I hurry to the closet and throw some random clothes into a duffel bag. Jacob won't be the most fashionable while he stays with me, but I will keep him busy. Damn busy.
I come back out to find him in the same position. "Oh no you don't. You dragged my sorry pouty butt all over kingdom come once upon time. Now you're getting a taste of your own medicine, Mr. Watts." I grab his hand and tug him to follow me.
"Where we going?"
"To Hearts and Powers," I rattle off the name of the Knight family's B&B. The cops have already been there. It's probably a major waste of time. But, right now, I have a lot of time to waste and a coyote shifter to distract.
We grab a couple Broomers, swing by my place to drop off Jacob’s stuff and grab my favorite new spy-cam, and we’re at Hearts and Powers before you know it.
I’ve never been here before. As the witches fly off, I know why. It looks like a valentine’s card threw up on a house. Gross. It’s all pink trim and crushed red velvet drapes and cupid fountains and heart shaped benches. And flowers. Endless amounts of flowers. Daisies. Rose wreaths on every door. I can taste the flowers on my tongue. Like someone assaulted me with a perfume bottle. There are vamps that like this? Hot Vamp could stand this? That’s strike two for him in the bad taste department. (One was dating Georgina for those keeping score.)
I have a very very hard time believing that ice-queen Georgina ran this place. Of course, she may not have decorated it. A gnome gardener wanders past carrying a nude cupid.
“Excuse me,” I decide to get started with the interrogation, since Jacob’s just standing sullenly. “Did you know Georgina Knight?”
He grunts and flips us off.
“I think we met his son at the station earlier,�
� I snark to Jacob. I grab my phone and snap a pic as the gardener bends over in front of the cupid to set him in place. You have to get just the right angle. Yup. Comic gold. Maybe I’ll post that on Instagoul later. Hope it gets back to him. Jerk-face.
Jacob does not admire my perfect snapshot. He sighs and stares off into the distance. I punch him in the shoulder and push him toward the steps. “Come on. Maybe we’ll have better luck inside.”
Most of the staff are reluctant to talk. Until we hit a jackpot with an upstairs maid who’s as human and as giggly as they come. My guess is she’s also a blood donor. Hopefully that’s what’s made her light-headed. Not just empty space between the ears. But she’s willing to talk, so we take what we can get. “Oh, yeah. Ms. Georgina was always a grump. You know, I always wondered why she ran this place. Not really her style you know?”
I roll my eyes. “You are not kidding.”
“I think her mom designed it all.”
“That would make sense. Their house was always so … baroque.” It’s all I can do to stop myself from saying gaudy. But yeah. That would technically be the right word. I wasn’t over there often, but enough to appreciate that Adelia Knight had way way too much time and money on her hands. Eternal-life problems.
“Yeah, Ms. Knight and her mom didn’t really seem to agree on a lot of things. They were always snapping at each other.” She puts a hand to her chest. “Which I get, because my mom’s getting on my case about moving out. But geez. They were constant. Ms. Georgina was always saying: ‘Let me take care of it.’ ‘I can handle it. Dad put me in charge. And I’m handling it.’ That was the latest. Her mom didn’t want her taking on some big project or something. Helicopter mom, for sure.”
I bite my lip. I don’t remember the helicopter part. But then, maybe losing Alec changed Mrs. Knight.
“Would you say Georgina and Adelia hated each other?”
The maid shrugs. “I really dunno. I know they were dramaville. But that’s about it.”
I thank her and Jacob and I head off downstairs. “What dya’ think?”
“Should I have taken Saffron to a place like this?” He stares sadly at a painting of a couple hand-in-hand under a tree.
I put an arm around him. “Jacob, you are an amazing person. You didn’t do anything wrong. When someone has an affair, it’s usually about them. Their low self-esteem. Their own issues.”
“But she didn’t come to me. With her issues.”
“No.”
“We’re supposed to be best friends.”
“I know.” What else can I say? She should have gone to him. And she’s a big fat jerk-face. But getting angry won’t help Jacob. I push him toward the exit.
A fairy working the front desk starts to flutter our way, but I wave her off. “We’re on our way out. Thanks.”
I pull open the front door to come face to face with Adelia Knight.
She looks pale (paler than normal for a vampire, if such a thing is possible). I haven’t spoken to her in years. But she just lost the last two members of her family. I should say something, right? “Mrs. Knight, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
She glances up at me. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
“I used to date Alec. A long long time ago.”
She stares at me for a second and tilts her head. “Who—What? I’m sorry.” Her eyes look empty. I’m not even sure she heard me.
Jacob’s puts a hand on my shoulder and firmly steers me away. “Beautiful place, ma’am. Have a nice night.”
Mrs. Knight doesn’t respond.
Jacob sighs next to me. “I think I’ve got it bad. It could always be worse.”
True. So true. I’ve been charged with a murder—but it looks like Matthew Boolye did it and Ben’s finally hunting down the right suspect. On the other hand, I have a terrible choice to make. Or a delicious choice. Depending on perspective. Ben or Luke? Still, none of my problems—even when I sat in the dungeon cell—add up to anything close to what Adelia Knight has gone through.
“You know what I think we need?” I say.
“Ice-cream,” Jacob answers.
“Hey! You weren’t supposed to guess.”
“You always want ice-cream. Or jellybeans. Or some kind of cavity-inducing, mouth-rotting—”
“Okay, okay. We can order you something from Nom-Noms.” It’s a little golem restaurant I love because they’re open and have dessert twenty-four/seven. Because golems never sleep.
“They have meat?”
“Yes. They even have rabbit.” I roll my eyes.
Jacob and I have just settled down on my purple couch with delicious takeout boxes when Bennett calls.
“Matthew didn’t do it unless he hired it out.” He doesn’t even greet me.
“Well, hello to you, too.”
“The camera he blocked off at Abra the night of Georgina’s death showed he and Saffron making out.” I stand up and move quickly away from Jacob. I go out onto my balcony.
“You watched it?” I suppress a shiver. Matthew has always grossed me out. I can’t believe Saffron would touch him.
“Twice.”
“Puke?”
“Considered it. But thought it would be unprofessional.”
“What about the fire?”
“He has an alibi. An actual meeting with his accountant. His assistant was there too.”
“Could he have hired someone?”
“Not according to his accountant. He’s broke. Between construction and the campaign, he stretched himself too thin. It’s why he was writing threatening notes to Georgina. Trying to get her to cough up a loan repayment early.”
“That’s why Saffron blocked the search warrant?”
“Yup. He thought it would look bad.”
“He’s right.”
“Yeah. But doesn’t make him a murderer.”
“Adultery is just as bad.”
“Unfortunately, not illegal. Even if it was, I’m still left with a murder case to solve.”
Damn. “Well then what? Dad did it, felt bad and offed himself?”
He sighs into the phone. “Maybe. I gotta get back to the office to see the phoenix report and your infrared photos. There’s still always jealous ex-boyfriend with Crypt connections.”
“I don’t like that theory much.”
“I know.”
We stay in silence on the line for a bit. And strangely, it’s a comfortable silence.
“Think we’ll figure it out before my next arraignment?”
“I hope so.”
“Me too. Listen, Jacob’s here and then later I have dinner with JR …”
“Okay. I’ll let you go. But Ly …”
“Yeah?”
“Our prior conversation’s still not over.” This time his voice is breathy.
“Okay,” I squeak and hang up. I can’t tell if I’m nervous or giddy. Maybe both.
Even after we eat, Jacob is in no fit state to be left alone. I have to figure out a way to perk him up before I go to torture-over-lobster later—the only meat good on its own because it’s naturally sweet—and yes, I’m making JR shell out the big bucks for putting me through said torture. I do debate taking Jacob with me, but he really doesn’t need to be subjected to Liam’s negativity right now.
Instead, I tell him to hold his nose and we head downstairs.
I don’t even finish knocking on Mrs. Snow’s door before she opens. Surprisingly, Tabby’s there again. The smell that wafts out is more like peanut butter cookies than rat innards. I sigh in relief.
“Oh my, sugar, your young man is just the sweetest thing.”
“No,” Tabby interjects, pulling a kindergarten-teacher sweater over her shoulders. She sticks her hands into the apple-shaped pockets as she retorts, “I dunno who the dragon-shifter was, but girl, if you don’t want him, he’s mine.”
Mrs. Snow claps. “We’ve been here since it all happened. My bunco group came over and we all had a nice chat about which one you’d choose.”
I nod slowly. My personal life has just become prime gossip for a group of retired women with nothing better to do. And one of them owns a crystal ball and has been known to peep.
Note to self. Move. Break all crystal balls in town. Or never have sex again. If that’s even an option. I haven’t even kissed either one. But now I’m paranoid. I don’t want them watching me. Unless … if Tabby only likes shifters, maybe I choose Luke. But my conversation with Bennett makes Luke the prime suspect again.
I realize the women have stopped talking and everyone’s staring at me, waiting for introductions.
“Mrs. Snow, Ms. Blue, this is Jacob Watts,” I say.
Jacob politely shakes hands with both women and I think I see Tabby blush.
“Did you wanna see the flowers Luke left, yeah?” Mrs. Snow asks as she ushers us inside.
“Oh. Um, sure.”
Her dining table has a bouquet of white lilies and roses on it. Normally, I’d say it’s gorgeous. But after Hearts and Powers, I’m a little flowered out. “It’s nice,” I shrug nonchalantly.
“Nice! Girl, you have a thing or two to learn.” Mrs. Snow lectures as she goes to grab a pitcher of lemonade and a platter of peanut butter cookies.
We sit at the dining table, but the flowers block me from making eye contact. I move them to the floor.
“I actually came to see if you ladies still have that crystal ball,” I try to keep my voice calm and even. “Jacob and I are looking into a murder.” I phrase it carefully. I do not say investigating. I don’t officially have any authority to investigate. And I definitely do not say that we’re investigating a murder I’ve been charged with. God, that would get the lips flapping. The bunco ladies would probably permanently move in and take turns patrolling me.
Tabby’s jaw drops.
Mrs. Snow misses her mouth and spills lemonade on the table.
“A murder!”
“You don’t mean that young man we saw last time, do you?” Tabby asks, worried about Bennett.
“No. No. He’s fine,” I hope. “I’m not really sure how to say this, but someone thinks Luke might be involved in a murder.” I gesture to the flowers to remind them of my other gentleman-caller.
