by Amy Boyles
“See that,” he said.
I sucked air. “Oh wow. What in the world?”
Two of the four walls in the room were covered top to bottom, side to side with pictures.
Not just any pictures, but photos of Frankie Firewalker.
I crossed over and placed my fingers gently on the edge of one of the glossy images. The shot was candid, with Frankie walking down the street. I didn’t recognize the background. A shop sat directly behind her, but it wasn’t a shop in Witch’s Forge.
The next picture was similar, so was the next, and so on. In none of these pictures was Frankie smiling at the camera or even facing it.
I quickly realized what I had before me were surveillance photos. These pics had been taken without Frankie having any idea she was being watched.
I took a step back and surveyed the next wall. It was more of the same. There must’ve been hundreds of shots covering the space.
An icky feeling spread through my stomach. It was a good thing I hadn’t eaten lunch because if I had, it would have come right back up.
Watts had watched Frankie—for a long time. He’d clearly been spying on her in their old town and had probably been doing the same here. I don’t know why he’d popped up as one of her possible soul mates, but to be fair Frankie had three choices and Thorne hadn’t been interested in her at all, at least not that I’d seen.
Maybe Frankie had used up all her real soul mates in life and what was left were a few men who were possible lovers but none of them the real deal.
After all, Frankie had made a job of marrying men. But back to the point—Watts showed a real obsession with Frankie, an obsession that could have turned lethal.
Was it possible she’d rejected him? Not that I’d seen. Or was Watts afraid that she would eventually reject him, and to stop her from doing that, he killed her preemptively?
Now I was no detective, but I’d watched my share of crime shows, enough to know that was a plausible theory—at least to me, and I was what mattered here.
Ha ha. Not really. Mama mattered and the truth about what happened to Frankie mattered.
And the truth was—Watts Pugh had serious issues.
“I think I’ve seen enough,” I whispered.
“I don’t see myself in any of these pictures,” Eugene grumbled. “You would think he would have gotten at least one shot of me. So sad.”
I motioned him toward the door. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”
Luckily we sneaked from the room and back into the hall without being noticed. Broom had Watts by the front door when we reached the living room. I snagged the pineapple keychain from a hook and jingled it.
“I think this would be great for the memorial.”
Rose stood on her tiptoes going over shelves. “Oh? You think so?”
Broom patted Watts’s back.
“Broom,” I commanded. “Come here.”
Broom obeyed. Watts eyed me nervously. “I didn’t see you for a while.”
I nodded. “You have a very big hallway. Don’t worry, I didn’t go into any of the rooms, but boy, your hall is big.”
His eyes narrowed. The hair on the back of my neck soldiered to attention. I hooked my hand around Rose’s arm.
“Well, I think we have everything we need here. Thank you so much for allowing us to take a look at all your things. This keychain will be perfect, and it doesn’t even have keys on it.”
Watts opened the door wide for us. He glared at me the entire time, sending a shot of fear straight to my core. I shrugged it off and yanked Rose outside.
“Well, did you find anything?” she asked once we were well on our way down the street.
“Boy, did we ever.” I glanced over my shoulder and saw Watts peeking out his blinds and watching us. I moved faster, practically dragging Rose as quickly as I could.
“Well, what did you find?”
“First of all, I think Watts is on to us. He’s watching. Oh, that guy gives me the creeps.”
“I think he’s a bit eccentric but not strange.”
“Then you should’ve been in his bedroom,” Eugene chirped. “Guy had a real thing for Frankie.”
Rose gasped with excitement. “Did he? How so?”
“He was taking pictures of her. Following her wherever she went. In fact, I think he followed her here.”
Rose narrowed her eyes. “These weren’t nude photos were they?”
“Heavens, no,” I said. “Not nudes. Sheesh. But it was obvious Frankie didn’t know anything about them.”
When we reached my car, all creatures great and small piled in. Oh, and so did Rose and me. When we were all settled, I switched on the engine and pulled out of my spot.
“What are you going to do?” Rose said.
“Thorne has to know about this. The man had a real obsession with Frankie.”
Rose patted Pig’s head. The pig sat on her lap, of course. No way was Rose going to let Pig stray far.
“So are we going to see Thorne now?” she asked.
“Yep. Right now.” I narrowed my eyes and felt confidence seeping into me. We had a real suspect here, someone who may have moved past the watching phase of his interest in Frankie to the killing phase.
I turned down the street and headed for the Flying Hickory Stick, Witch’s Forge’s bar and jail.
Chapter 22
But Peek wouldn’t let me see Thorne.
“I demand to see him.” I laid my hand flat on top of a sticky bar table. I quickly removed it and grimaced. “Now.”
Peek shook his head. A nasty sneer was smeared over his face. “Sorry but he’s asked for no visitors.” The deputy took a menacing step forward. “Especially not from you.”
My face flushed. Not one to be intimidated, I crossed my arms and glared at the nasty bloodsucker. “Did he actually say he didn’t want to see me or are you making that up?”
Peek enunciated every word that dripped from his mouth. “No, Charming. Those were his exact words.”
I glowered.
He gestured toward the back of the bar/jail. “Would you like to go down and see for yourself?”
I hesitated. Peek noticed and chuckled. He leaned in so close I could smell his aftershave. It was sweet, sickly so.
“A word of advice, witch. When a vampire makes a declaration, like one where he doesn’t want to see you, I would take it seriously and not test those boundaries.”
I fisted my hands. I wanted to punch Peek right in the face, but I knew I’d be on the losing end of a physical bout against the vamp. He’d probably catch my fist midair, before I even had a chance to come close to jabbing him in the nose.
It was too bad, really.
I could use the stress release. But seeing as there was diddly squat I could do about the stupid situation, I hoisted my purse higher on my shoulder and clicked my tongue.
“Tell him I stopped by, will you? There’s something important he needs to know.”
Peek smirked. “Sure.”
Which meant he wouldn’t tell Thorne anything, which also meant I was on my own when it came to figuring out a way to get Watts to admit to the fact that I’m pretty sure he’d killed Frankie.
I had two choices—I could wait outside until Thorne left the jail and I could ambush him, or I could figure out how to get inside Watts’s head.
Seeing as I had absolutely no expertise in the latter, the first idea seemed the best. But I also didn’t know how long Thorne would be interrogating my mother—an innocent woman.
So, Watts it was. For this, I would need Rose’s help. I arrived back at the house and found Rose impatiently waiting for me in the living room.
“So?” she said hopefully.
I shook my head. “He won’t see me.”
She cringed. “That is a problem. Did you consider stalking him until he leaves the jail?”
“I don’t even know if he’s there. They drove Mama off somewhere, could have been anywhere, not necessarily the jail since it’s so clo
se by. All Thorne’s deputy told me was that under no circumstances am I allowed to see him—at least not right now.”
Rose wrung her hands. “I know! Call Thorne and tell him you’re trapped inside Watts’s house, that you need help. He’ll have to go there to rescue you. It’s the alpha vampire in him.”
As much as that idea sounded amazing—and I’m joking when I say that—I passed on it.
“Rose, I just don’t think that’s a good idea. Watts was on to us today. He stared at us out his window, and the whole thing with Broom hitting him was so transparent, I’m surprised the police haven’t arrived at our door to question us about possible assault charges.”
Rose dismissed my concern with a wave. “You’re being melodramatic. Broom barely tapped him. It was a minor inconvenience for Watts, I’ll grant you that. But to be honest,” she lowered her voice, “I think he kind of liked getting the beating.”
I cocked an eyebrow in skepticism.
“Oh, I’m not kidding,” she said. “You should have seen the look of guilty pleasure that crossed his face. I saw it in his eyes. He enjoyed it.”
“I didn’t see any whips or chains in his bedroom, so I’m going to have to disagree. Anyway, let’s figure out a plan. There’s got to be something we can do.”
I nodded. “Have any chocolate around? That might help me think.”
Any calories would have helped, but why take a chicken breast when I could have chocolate? I mean, was that even a real question? I would take chocolate over a steak dinner some nights.
Or days. Or weekends. Or minutes.
Rose smiled so widely light glinted off her teeth. “In fact, I do. I’d just given Pig a handful. Maybe she didn’t eat it all. Perhaps there’s some in her bowl.”
I stared at Rose in disbelief. “Um. Her bowl? Like, her bowl as in what she eats out of?”
Rose nodded. “Yes.”
My mouth turned down into a grimace that I didn’t bother to hide. “So are you saying that if there’s chocolate left in Pig’s food bowl, that I can have it?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“So you want me to eat after a pig?”
Rose slapped her thigh and scoffed. “Honestly, Charming, it’s not as if she has herpes or anything. Pigs can’t get herpes.” She tapped her chin in thought. “At least, I don’t think they can. Actually, I’ve never even thought about it.”
Rose’s hand flew to her mouth. “I eat after Pig all the time. What if I catch herpes?”
I patted her shoulder. “First of all, calm down. Pretty sure Pig doesn’t have herpes. I don’t think she stayed on the farm long enough to catch swine herpes or whatever they might have. Even if she did, we would know it by now.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Why are we even having this conversation? It’s a pig and it’s herpes. I don’t know if the two can mix, but that’s the least of our problems. The real issue right now is that you are suggesting I eat after her—a pig. That I pull food from her bowl and put it in my mouth. I don’t care about herpes. I care about the gross value of this entire conversation because I’m pretty sure that number is way high—like, off the charts.”
Rose sniffed. She threw her shoulders back in a way that I can only be describe as self-righteous and glared at me. “If that’s not good enough for you, you can come up with your own chocolate.”
“That’s fine by me,” I said.
Rose started to walk away and stopped, glaring at me over her shoulder. “But I’m not going to share whatever I find in there.”
“It’s all yours.”
I followed her into the kitchen. She stopped by Pig’s bowl. “You’re in luck. It’s empty.”
“Thank goodness,” I mumbled.
Seriously, Rose and that pig had a bond that was just about a little too crazy for me. Just a touch. Letting an animal lick your face was one thing, but eating after them was enough to make me vomit.
I noticed the back door was open. I pointed to it. “Did you leave the door like that?”
“Like what?”
I nodded toward it. “Open. What else?”
“I thought you meant those smudges on the window. Sometimes I place my hands on them and think really hard about meeting the perfect man and I imagine he’ll appear just outside the window and then I press my lips to the glass and I kiss it.”
“Oh. Wow.”
There were no words. Just absolutely no words.
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t leave it open.” She twisted from side to side. “Where’s Pig?”
I pilfered the cabinets in search of chocolate. “No clue. Maybe she let herself out after eating all the chocolate because she got an upset stomach.”
Rose waved away my theory. “Definitely not. That animal’s got a stomach made of iron.” She shook her fist to demonstrate. “It’s just like that.”
My eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “Sure.”
“Let me just call her back.” Rose stepped outside. “Pig! Pig! Where are you?”
My search was going badly. Desperate for some thinking food, I said, “House, is there any chocolate here? Anywhere?”
The cabinets shook. I stepped back just in time to avoid getting smacked in the face by one of the doors. “Come on,” I mumbled. “Give me chocolate or give me death!”
A cabinet shot open and a bag darted from the hole, aimed at my stomach. I bowed over and caught the bag by hugging myself.
“Thanks! You’re the best, House. Mmm. Semisweet morsels. Someone really knows how to make a girl happy.”
I tore into the bag, scooped out a handful and ate the rich, velvety goodness. No, I wasn’t about to be ladylike and dump some in a bowl. I had to sort through a web of thoughts.
Mama stuck with Thorne being interrogated. Watts with his crazy room. I scoffed. Watts with his crazy self, period. The guy was a murderer. There was no doubt about it. Now all I had to do was prove it.
“Enjoying yourself?” Eugene asked.
“Shut it. This helps me.”
The skull rocked side to side. “If you say so.”
Rose’s shrill voice caught me by surprise. “Charming!”
“Ah!” I dropped a handful of kisses on the floor and clutched my chest. “You scared me to death. What is it?”
“I can’t find Pig anywhere.” Rose fisted her hands and pressed them to her cheeks. “I just don’t know what could have happened to her. “Is she lost? Did she meet a boy pig and they’ve gone off together?”
I opened my mouth to say something and then shut it again. I highly doubted that Pig had suddenly become trampy and had run off with a male swine—a bull? Were male pigs called bulls?
Why was I even wasting brain cells wondering that?
My first priority was to calm Rose. “I’m sure she’s fine. I’m sure we’ll find her. Let’s go outside and start calling. We’ll see her soon.”
Rose looked like she’d been hit over the head with a two-by-four. She stood paralyzed in the center of the kitchen. I took her hand and rubbed the soft skin of her arm.
“It’s okay. Breathe. We’ll find her.”
We’d just started toward the door when a letter zipped inside the kitchen. What looked like gold pixie dust trailed behind it like glitter.
There was something so nice about it. So warm and inviting. “What’s that?”
Rose shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s about Pig.”
I rolled my eyes because there was no way that letter was about Pig. I mean, come on. Why would a letter with a golden tail be about our potbellied swine?
Since I was closest, I dropped my hold on Rose and plucked the letter from the air. “Let’s see what this is about.”
I ripped it open and read:
I have your pig. You should have figured that out by now. I know what you saw in my house. You tell anyone what you know and the pig dies. Meet me tonight at my house and we’ll make a deal. But if you don’t head my warning and you tell the cops, the pig dies.
<
br /> I’m not sure what will happen to you.
—Watts
“Well, he spelled ‘heed’ wrong,” I said.
Rose choked on a sob. “He has her. Watts has Pig.” She snatched the note and crumpled it in her hand. “That…that…that bad guy. Why I oughta—”
“We oughta not do anything,” I said. “Other than what he wants.”
Surprise filled Rose’s eyes. “What? Why?”
“Because this might be our chance. It’s two against one, Rose. We can take him and maybe get him to confess to killing Frankie. All we have to do is go along with it.”
Eugene cleared his throat. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
I glanced at my chest. “What?”
“Technically, it’s three against one. I’m here to lend my services because y’all are really gonna need me. That Watts guy is crazy.”
I took Rose’s hand. “Are you ready for this?”
The look of fear in her eyes shifted to one of determination. Suddenly Rose thrust out her chest. Her lower lip trembled. “Watts Pugh better be ready, because when I’m finished with him, there won’t be anything left.”
Chapter 23
As much as I wanted to wait Watts out and make him sit until midnight for us to show up, I didn’t want to risk anything happening to Pig.
Rose would kill me if the animal got hurt, and I’d never forgive myself.
“Do you think he’s going to try to kill you?” Eugene asked after I parked the car.
I frowned. “Probably. But that’s not exactly something I want to think about.”
“Death isn’t that bad,” he said. “You could get lucky and wind up like me, a shrunken head dipped in silver.”
“I forgot you used to be alive.”
“Yes. I think that’s why I picked up talking so fast, even though I still can’t remember the meaning of many words.”
Rose adjusted the black beret on her head. “Are you two ready? I can’t stand to be here while I know my poor little piggy is trapped by that maniac.”
I released my grip on the steering wheel. “Okay. Let’s go.”
