by Nova Nelson
“But then again,” Ruby said, “the deputy was asking people before the body was even removed from the scene.”
Bloom held up a hand to stop her. “I know, I know. The odds of hearing anything else right after his death are slim. But if he did do it himself, I would have expected someone to say something to the effect of ‘I saw this coming and no one believed me.’ And Titterfield didn’t report anything like that. People don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but they sure as Heaven like being proved right.”
Ruby nodded. “Good point. Being right is the best.” She paused, and Bloom recognized that look of deep consideration well enough to avoid interrupting it. Best to give Ruby’s mysterious mind room to wander.
“So Titterfield turned the elf over, presumably revealing grisly injuries from the impact. That’s macabre enough. But why are you here? Naturally, you would want to know if I heard anything from the deceased, but you could have sent that in a letter. And yet, here you are, eating my food and describing death. I must be a suspect.”
Bloom bit back a smile. “I do love the way your mind works. And yes, you’re a suspect. Or you will be once word spreads of what else was found on the body.”
Ruby sighed. “I take it you mean I’ll be a suspect in the eyes of the public, but not yours.”
“Correct. I don’t think you did it because I know you, and I know that you don’t have the energy to waste on something as petty as murder. Not to mention you lack motive, and Ted said he saw you leave the Emporium before the death occurred.”
“You spoke with Ted?”
“Not me. Titterfield. Ted was the one who called it in. If he has any indication that a death involves foul play, he lets us know before hauling off the body. Due to details of the crime scene, you were an obvious suspect right off the bat, but Ted swore he saw you and Clifford leave before the death took place.”
“Right. You keep hinting that there was something off about the crime scene. Care to enlighten me?”
This was the part Bloom had dreaded. Not because she thought it implicated Ruby, but because it would be difficult to keep everyone else from believing that, and the Fifth Wind would pick up on that immediately and surely not be thrilled.
“When the deputy rolled Mr. Danann over, we presume that the surrounding crowd were preoccupied with the sight of the unfortunate impact wounds. But it’s possible that at least one person might have noticed the stains on the elf’s white shirt. They weren’t blood. As far as we can tell, they were berry stains. Someone had written in berry juice on his shirt prior to his fall.”
Ruby’s eyes had narrowed down to slits. “And? What did it say?”
Bloom inhaled deeply. “Titterfield couldn’t make it out on scene, but I got a look at it back at the station. It clearly said 5th.”
Ruby’s eyes shut slowly, and her head tilted back. Bloom could see her nostrils flare as she inhaled deeply. Finally, she exhaled and opened her eyes again. “I can see how that might implicate me. But I can also see how it might implicate Ed Willow, the berry vendor whose cart is right next to the clock tower.”
“But everyone loves Ed.” Bloom realized what she’d said too late and tried to scramble. “Not to say that nobody loves you. Just that, well, Ed is a bit of a town icon, you know? He’s generous, young, handsome, and—”
“And I’m none of those things.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You said as much.” Ruby dismissed it with a flick of her wrist. “But don’t worry, you’re not telling me anything I don’t know. Ed is as fine a witch as they come. He’s the quintessential West Wind, and who doesn’t love them? A Fifth Wind, on the other hand…”
Bloom nodded gravely. “Right. That’s all I meant. You’re at a disadvantage because of the preexisting stigma around your kind. And the fact that our only real clue is the word 5th doesn’t exactly help your case if it gets out.”
“Let me get this straight.” Ruby set down her spoon and folded her hands in her lap. “You came here not because this is a matter for a psychic to attend to, but because you wanted to tip off a possible suspect in your own case.”
“That about sums it up.”
Ruby grinned. “I knew you were a rebel.”
Bloom chuckled. “Why do you think I’m down here and not up there?” She nodded toward Heaven. “But still, you should stay vigilant for a while. Bron Danann was a well-regarded elf. He’s been in Eastwind for hundreds of years. I don’t know how the other elves will respond to it. The rest of Eastwind doesn’t know him well, but they do love a reason to turn on someone they already fear.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but I hope Bron’s spirit does drop in for a word. Could be quite useful for my continued survival.”
“I don’t think there’ll be a mob anytime soon. Also, we’re a little bogged down at the department—”
“Nothing new there.”
“You’re not wrong. But if you don’t have any more pressing matters and would be willing to help investigate this case, we’d be grateful.”
“More pressing matters than proving I didn’t push a well-respected elf off a tall building? I’ll have to check my calendar, but no, I don’t suspect I have anything more pressing at present.”
“You’ve got the mind for this, Ruby. If I could ever get the High Council to loosen the purse strings of the Sheriff’s Department budget just a little, I’d hire you on full-time.”
“No, you would not. Because I’d never accept that job.”
“Either way…” Bloom leaned over and pulled a gold coin from her back pocket, setting it on the table. “That’s for your trouble. And the stew.”
“I can’t possibly take your money for this.”
Bloom shrugged. “And I wouldn’t possibly offer you my own money. This is from the evidence cavern.”
Ruby’s spine straightened in an instant. “The evidence cavern?”
“Yes, ma’am. The caves are filled with plenty of junk, but any money associated with illicit dealings ends up down there, too. We probably have more gold stashed away than there is in the treasury behind Rainbow Falls. Of course, it’s tempting to use it to supplement our paltry operating budget, but that large-scale use would be wrong. It might indirectly motivate me to seize more funds, perhaps even at the cost of true justice.”
“But skimming a little off the top to pay a witch for her trouble is fine?”
“I don’t see why not.” Bloom winked.
“Your view of right and wrong both baffles and impresses me, Gabby.”
“Then I suppose I’m doing something right.”
Ruby chuckled. “Who has Deputy Titterfield spoken with already?”
“Just those on scene, as far as I’m aware. He’d already been on duty for nearly twenty hours by the time he cleaned up the scene and completed the initial interviews, so I sent him home to sleep. He’s not as young as he used to be.”
Ruby dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “None of us are. Oh. Well, maybe you.”
Bloom shrugged a weak apology she didn’t really feel. Ah, to be mortal. She’d dreamed of it. How invigorating life must be to know it had an end!
Meanwhile, the short-lifers envied her position. Perhaps the best spot was the one in the middle, to be a long-lived being like the elves.
Long-lived until someone shoves you off a clock tower.
“One more question,” Bloom said.
Ruby had just finished her stew and was drinking the broth straight from the bowl, which seemed a sensible thing to do with food as delectable as this. As she set it back on the table, she arched a single eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Got anything for dessert?”
Chapter Four
Ruby awoke the following morning after a night of uninterrupted sleep.
And that raised a few important questions. Because it meant the ghost of Bron Danann hadn’t visited her.
Usually, if a spirit of the newly deceased was going to come knocking, it did so within a day o
r two of its death. There were exceptions, of course; spirits that wandered for years, decades, millennia, and finally stumbled upon her home by mere accident, only to be pleasantly surprised when someone acknowledged their presence. And then there were spirits who took to tormenting others the moment they materialized, and Ruby only ever saw those when the tormented individuals called her in.
There was still time for Bron to appear, but she suspected he wouldn’t. She couldn’t pinpoint why, but there it was. It must be her Insight determining that, since such was usually the case when she couldn’t understand how she knew something.
Over the years of practicing her craft, she’d come to believe that her so-called magical gift of Insight, while definitely a useful tool, wasn’t all that magical. Instead, rather than being a sense all its own, it was simply a booster to her other senses. While her eyes looked at many things during the day, her conscious mind only retained a few of them, the ones that seemed most relevant to whatever she was doing at the time.
But in the background, her Insight was cataloging everything. She might not notice a detail as small as a title on a stranger’s bookshelf or a statue resembling an obscure deity, but her Insight did. And when she saw that book or statue again, and then again, in different locations during her investigation, that was when her gift would begin to poke at her to tell her to take notice.
Or sometimes the connections were even more abstract. Either way, her Insight paid attention to what her conscious mind often glossed over—scents, sounds, phrases, even behaviors.
She might have made a good detective if she didn’t find playing by the rules so restrictive.
Ruby’s knees and ankles crackled as she stood from bed and pulled her nightgown tightly around her. Was it normal for one’s body to pop and clatter like this so young? Then again, middle age was a strange, unfathomable thing. Feelings of youth and old age took turns hitting her in waves, though she was definitely feeling the impact of the latter more keenly now, especially first thing in the morning. A good night’s sleep didn’t go as far as it used to.
By the time she had eaten breakfast, fed Cliff, and gathered her things, she had a good idea of where she would head first on the day’s investigations.
Her thinking was this: interview those she knew personally first, because, in the event that word had gotten out about what was written on Bron’s shirt, they would be less likely to suspect her without speaking to her directly. She was sure she could provide a satisfactory explanation as to why she hadn’t been involved in the suspicious death. So she would build herself a few allies before moving forward.
And that was why, despite her better judgment and Clifford’s questions about her true motivation, she left her home and made straight for Ezra’s Magical Outfitters.
“I don’t understand what you expect to get from this,” Clifford said as he padded along next to her up the road toward the more expensive shopping district.
“He was at the Emporium, wasn’t he? We saw him. And then he said he’d forgotten cactus flower, so he went back for it. He might have seen something.”
“If he’d seen something, wouldn’t he have mentioned it to Titterfield when he arrived?”
“Possibly. But it’s equally likely that Ezra has remained tight lipped. With as much under-the-table business as he conducts, it wouldn’t surprise me if he needed to pretend he was never there that day to keep clear of Bloom or Titterfield sniffing around.”
It wasn’t that Ezra was a crook. That word implied some sort of malignant spirit or deficiency. Ezra loved helping others by finding just the object they needed to improve their lives. What he didn’t love was laws. Primarily, those regarding imports and exports. When the South Wind said he would get you whatever you needed, he wasn’t just blowing smoke; he would locate it and get it to Eastwind, whether it was officially banned or not. Ruby had always found something terribly admirable in that.
And he did have his moral code. He’d once told her about a patron’s request for flickerbark, which everyone knew could only be used for one thing: setting large fires to inflammable objects. That, he’d said, didn’t seem like a great idea to deliver into anyone’s hands… though he did know a guy in Avalon who could get him some, if it ever came to that.
Ruby strolled into the shop, but Clifford paused before the threshold. “Do you need me?”
She considered it, knowing the hound preferred the fresh air. “I could benefit from your sharp mind, yes.”
He nodded and followed her in. What went unspoken was that sometimes Ruby’s own sharp mind became a bit blunt when she was in close proximity to the flirtatious Ezra. But Clifford had enough tact not to mention it.
She paused just inside and took in the surroundings. Ezra’s Magical Outfitters could get crowded at certain points of the year, especially as Halloween approached and everyone tried to ward themselves against the onslaught of spirits as best they could. But on a Wednesday morning in the middle of May, she spied only one other patron wandering the glass display cases toward the front of the store. She was a stunning elf with long copper hair, skin the color of lamb’s milk, and emerald eyes. Ruby had a strange urge to ask her, “Do you live in Tearnanock Estates?” and then “Can you give me a tour?”
But before her poor judgment could get the best of her, Ezra appeared from behind one of the long wooden shelves at the back of the store, and his face lit up when he saw her. Today’s ensemble included a loose-fitting violet shirt, brown slacks, and a string of red stones around his neck that Ruby guessed to be aventurine. He always did love that particular gem.
He hurried over, arms spread. “Ruby! To what do I owe this pleasure?”
The browsing elf looked up at that, blinked at Ruby a few times, and then seemed to make the connection. Not everyone had met her in person, but most everyone in town knew Ruby True by reputation. And she was left to conclude that was why the elf quickly hugged her purse to her and scurried out without another word.
Ruby watched the elf go, and once the door shut behind her, the Fifth Wind felt more able to speak freely. “I assume you’ve heard about what happened at the Emporium yesterday.”
Ezra pulled up short, his arms falling limp by his sides. “Yes, I did. So unfortunate. Did you know him?”
“Not at all.” She paused. “Do you know about Tearnanock Estates?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Yes, what about it?”
“You know it exists?”
“Of course.”
She grunted. “And have you ever been there?”
Now a wide grin washed away the signs of his confusion. “Oh yes! It’s wonderful. Does this have something to do with the elf’s death?”
Rather than tell him the truth, that it didn’t have much to do with the investigation but plenty to do with her feeling bitter that she’d somehow lived seventeen years in this town without knowing about an invisible avenue not far off the main circle, she said, “It’s where the deceased resided.”
He nodded solemnly. “Then I imagine they’re having a spectacular funeral for him up there soon. Maybe even as we speak.” He shook his head. “Man, I wish I could see it. They really do things up in style in Tearnanock.”
“That seems a little insensitive,” she chided. “But back to the task at hand. Did you happen to see anything suspicious while you were in the Emporium? Titterfield and Bloom are so far stumped.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “That’s never a good sign. I mean, Titterfield isn’t as keen as he used to be, but Bloom is sharp as a vampire’s fangs.”
“True. But she’s also overworked.”
Ezra nodded. “What does the elf’s ghost have to say? I assume he’s come back to visit you, or else why would you be here?”
“He hasn’t visited me. Perhaps he will—some take time adjusting to their new existence. But if I’m going to see him at all, he should appear by midday tomorrow.”
“He’s clearly not a smart ghost,” Ezra said.
<
br /> Ruby tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “Why do you say that?”
“No smart man would keep you waiting.” He winked.
Ruby pressed her lips together to avoid betraying herself with a smile. If Ezra wanted to flirt, he would have to do better than that.
But wait. She didn’t want him to flirt. Right. She’d almost forgotten. There would be no purpose in flirting now, as it’d lead nowhere, and likely only make her feel even worse once she left the store, stirring up memories of the days when they flirted freely and unabashedly nonstop. Days when the flirting could and did lead to something.
“Did you see the death occur or not?” The words came out much sharper than she’d intended.
Ezra didn’t seem ruffled, though. “Afraid I didn’t. I had my back to it, watching the play.”
“How far were you from the clock?”
“Twenty-five feet, perhaps.”
“Were you close to where the body landed then?”
“Startlingly close, but not the closest. It’s a wonder he didn’t land on someone.”
Ruby had considered that, too. It was lucky that the theater hadn’t drawn such a large crowd that the entire Emporium was packed all the way back to the clock. There could have been another casualty associated with this already messy business.
Would Bron Danann have jumped if there were people below? Or, given the other possible scenario, would someone still have pushed him?
“I hate to be morbid,” Ruby said, “but my assumption is that there’s a sound associated with a body falling from that distance.”
“Ah,” he said, wagging his finger playfully, “not so much the falling, but the landing.”
She arched a brow. “You heard it, then?”
“Nope. Didn’t hear a thing in that regard.” He spread his hands, palms up, to demonstrate his ignorance. “I didn’t know about it until I heard Ted ordering people to move. The play was between scenes, and his voice caught my attention. Then I saw the poor elf lying facedown.”
“Did no one see the poor man fall?” Ruby asked, more to herself.
