by K E O'Connor
“The way Isadora’s been killed, does it remind you of anything?”
Dominic tugged on his ear. “It reminds me that there are a lot of sick people out there.”
“Have you studied the history of witchcraft?”
Dominic shook his head. “It’s not in our training syllabus.”
“And Angel Ball is?”
He looked shamefaced. “I’m not much of a reader.”
My thoughts were on the book Isadora had given me. “Hundreds of years ago, there were several ways people killed witches.”
“Oh! The ducking stool in the museum.” Dominic grinned. “I know about that.”
“Well done. You get a gold star.”
Cassiel smirked at Dominic. “That’s not the only way to kill a witch.”
“What are the other ways?” I asked her.
Her smirk faded. “Blast them with a spell?”
“No star for you.” I pointed at the rocks. “People also stoned witches. Villagers would drag some innocent woman out of her house, surround her, and throw rocks at her.”
Dominic looked at the pile of rocks, horror on his face. “Someone did that to Isadora?”
“It’s a working theory,” I said. “First the ducking stool and now this stoning. And two witches are dead. Maybe someone is targeting only witches.”
“That’s a relief.” Dominic let out a sigh. “I’ll sleep easy in my bed knowing I won’t be at risk if it’s only witches they’re interested in.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “As I said, it’s a working theory. Don’t forget to lock your doors at night.”
Dominic’s face paled. “Right. Of course. Always better to be safe.”
I did another circuit of the rocks but didn’t see anything helpful.
“You look lovely in that dress, Tempest, and you’re so clever. You are the full package.” Dominic’s grin dazzled me as I stopped next to him. “How do you know all of this?”
I smiled at Dominic and stroked my hand down my ruined bridesmaid’s dress. He was so gorgeous but so dumb. “It’s no secret. And the details of witch stoning are in Isadora’s book. If I remember rightly, she detailed the ducking stool method first and then the use of rocks. I think someone is re-enacting her descriptions.”
Dominic’s mouth dropped open. “Why would anybody do that?”
“As you say, there are some sick people around here.” I looked for Wiggles and spotted him snuffling outside the stone circle. “Hey, come over here and see what you can find.”
Wiggles trotted over and stared at the scene. “I’ve found a pile of rocks and a body underneath it.”
“Get nearer and see if there’s any magic around.”
“What’s in it for me?”
I glared at him. “I won’t lock you outside for the next week.”
He snorted. “You’d never do that. Make me an offer.”
“No offer. Go smell the body.”
“My nose has three hundred million receptors in it.”
“I’m happy for your nose.”
“And, I’ll have you know, almost half my brain is dedicated to analyzing smells. Imagine what it’s like for me, having to poke around near a corpse.”
I sighed. “One bone.”
“Ten bones. And a dozen cupcakes.”
“One bone, and one cupcake.”
Wiggles sat and curled his tail around his feet.
I growled at him. “Two bones and two cupcakes.”
He tilted his head from side to side. “Triple caramel with frosting?”
“If that will make you move.”
He hopped up. “We have a deal. I’ll be your magic sniffing hero.” Wiggles trotted toward the rocks.
“Should he be doing that?” Dominic asked. “We shouldn’t let the evidence be tampered with.”
“The worst he’ll do is shed a few furs,” I said. “Wiggles has a good nose. He often picks out different kinds of magic if it’s been used.”
“Wow! That’s impressive.”
“I’m not a one trick hellhound,” Wiggles said. “I also belch fire in moments of crisis. There have been a lot of those recently.”
“That’s a neat trick to have,” Dominic said.
I let Wiggles sniff around for a couple of minutes. “Have you got anything?”
“Magic was used. Nothing dark, but it feels like an immobility spell.”
“I detected something similar on Gretel,” I said.
“When did you detect the spell on Gretel?” Dominic asked.
I ducked my head. My illegal snoop around the ducking stool had just been revealed. “I felt it when the body was discovered, and it makes sense to use such a spell. I’m not sure how powerful Gretel or Isadora were, but they’d have a basic knowledge of defense spells. Someone used an immobility spell to prevent them from running, particularly in the case of Isadora. Unless they got a lucky first strike, she wouldn’t have hung around while someone hurled rocks at her.”
Dominic shook his head and smiled. “There you go again, being all brilliant and beautiful in your sunflower yellow dress.”
Sablo returned from her walk around the circle. “I didn’t find anything useful.”
“Okay. Get Isadora uncovered and take her away,” I said.
Sablo nodded and instructed Dominic and Cassiel to get to work. Some of the rocks were so large they needed two hands to roll them away.
“These rocks weren’t thrown by hand,” I said. “Someone used magic to propel them at Isadora. She must have been terrified. But what was she doing in the stone circle? The last time I saw her, she was focused on her work and didn’t want to be distracted. What made her come here?”
“To have a break?” Sablo said. “All that research must get dull.”
“Not for someone like Isadora. She was obsessed with her work. Jonah described her books as her children. That’s all she cared about.”
“It could have been for research,” Wiggles said. “These old stones are full of magic. Isadora could have gotten excited about the stones for her new book.”
“That’s possible. Something drew her here.”
We waited ten minutes for the angels to remove all the stones. I wandered around the stone circle again to see if anything had been missed but found nothing useful.
After the angels had uncovered Isadora’s body, they placed her in a body bag, suspended the bag between their wings, and we headed back to the Angel Force headquarters.
I followed them at a short distance, Wiggles trailing behind me. I wasn’t sure where to turn next. My prime suspect had been murdered. If it wasn’t Isadora who’d killed Gretel, then I was back to square one.
Something else worried me. If my theory about the killer re-enacting the methods of murder in Isadora’s book was correct, then they weren’t finished. There’d be three more murders. Burning at the stake, hanging, and being bricked behind a wall.
I walked into the reception area, my thoughts on the killer’s next move, and waited a couple of minutes until Sablo came through.
“What shall we do next?” she asked.
“You focus on examining Isadora,” I said. “Also, go take a look around her room. She might have left a clue behind as to what she was doing at the stone circle. And you’ll need to inform those working with Isadora as to what’s happened.”
“We’ll get right on that,” Sablo said. “We have to catch who’s doing this.”
I nodded. We did. I needed to speak to Dazielle before our killer struck again. She always claimed to be the expert when it came to solving a crime, and right now, I needed an expert. I had no clue what our next move should be.
Chapter 16
I’d left several messages for Dazielle the previous evening, and she’d returned none of them. Anyone would think she didn’t want to keep her job.
I sat curled on the couch in my apartment, sipping coffee as I waited for my snow globe to connect. My gaze settled on the lemon-yellow dress sitting in a heap on the floor. It wa
s destroyed. After the mad dash around Toby’s garden to save Wiggles and the race to get to the stone circle and see what had happened to Isadora, I wasn’t sure it could be salvaged. Wearing lemon satin when you investigated a murder was always a bad idea.
My snow globe finally connected, but I got the same message I’d heard the previous five times.
“Dazielle is not available. Please leave a message, and she’ll get back to you. An angel’s farewell to you.”
There was no time for subtlety. “Having left three previous messages, we’ve all decided you’re dead. Your possessions have been sold, and your apartment is up for sale. You’ll be pleased to know the mayor has promoted me to your role. I’ll be disbanding Angel Force within the next forty-eight hours and taking their salaries as my own. This could have been avoided if only you’d bothered to pick up your messages. A demon’s farewell to you.”
I shut off the snow globe and smirked. That might spur Dazielle into action. But her lack of communication was worrying, and, as much as I hated to admit it, she knew a thing or two about murders. Sablo and the others did their best, but I needed someone with a bit more clout to sort this mess out.
“It’s no good,” I said as I uncurled from the couch. “There’s only one solution for this. We need breakfast.”
Wiggles, who’d looked to be sound asleep on his bed in the lounge, leaped up and spun in a circle. “That’s my favorite word. Alongside lunch, dinner, snacks, and treats. Oh, and belly rub. I love a belly rub.”
We headed out of Cloven Hoof. The morning was bright and sunny with a hint of chill in the air as we headed to Unicorn’s Trough.
I froze as I got to the door. Mannie Winter was inside at the counter.
“What are we waiting for?” Wiggles asked. “My stomach’s growling like a frustrated fairy.”
“Let’s go elsewhere.” I backed away from the door.
“No! Brogan’s breakfast specials are the best.” He pawed at the door.
I shooed Wiggles away and turned. “How about cupcakes from Sprinkles?”
“Tempest!” The door behind me opened. “I was just thinking about you.”
I suppressed a groan as I heard Mannie’s voice. “Good thoughts?”
“Come inside, and I’ll tell you.”
I took a deep breath, knowing I couldn’t avoid Mannie, and walked into Unicorn’s Trough.
“I’ve been waiting for an update from you,” Mannie said. “I had to hear about Isadora from the angels.”
“That is their job,” I said. “They’re trying to figure out what happened.”
“And what about you?” Mannie stroked his eyebrows with the tips of his fingers. “You need to be on top of this. You’re in charge of the angels until Dazielle returns.”
“No, I’m in charge of what happened to Gretel. I signed on for one murder solving only. I didn’t agree to be the big boss or have anything to do with what happened to Isadora.”
“Come now, this must all be connected.” Mannie patted his stomach. “One murder to solve or two, you can manage that.”
“I’m doing what I can, but I’m no expert. You have the wrong woman for this job. I was leaning toward Isadora as Gretel’s killer, but now she’s gone, so I can’t ask her what went on between them.”
Mannie waved his hand in the air. “No, that’s not possible. Isadora would never do anything like that.”
“She had no alibi; she hated Gretel for attempting to ruin her career and had plenty of opportunities to return to the museum and drown Gretel. Isadora looked good for it. And she vanished yesterday. I was trying to find her and bring her in for questioning.”
“Oh, well, when you lay out the facts, that doesn’t look so good for Isadora.” Mannie played with a button on his waistcoat. “You must see, she can’t be involved now.”
“She still might have killed Gretel.”
“But who killed Isadora?”
It looked like this wouldn’t be a quick conversation. I led Mannie to a quiet table in the corner, and we both sat. “I’d hazard a guess that it’s someone she knew. Somebody must have tempted her to leave the house and go to the stone circle.”
Mannie shook his head. “It’s terrible what happened to her. A real loss.”
“It’s not a great way to die. Do you know much about Isadora’s ability? If someone attacked her, could she have defended herself?”
“She had abilities, but she didn’t use them that often. Isadora was more interested in exploring the old ways of magic rather than honing her power.” Mannie stroked a hand down his beard. “Have you had breakfast yet?”
“No, that’s why I’m here.” I’d been so distracted by seeing Mannie that I’d forgotten the reason for coming to Unicorn’s Trough.
“I’ve just placed my order,” Mannie said. “You need fuel if you’re going to solve these murders. I’m having an extra-large breakfast special.”
“That sounds perfect,” Wiggles said.
“Right you are. I’ll be back in a moment.” Mannie left the table.
I shook my head. For all Mannie’s faults, he was always generous when it came to feeding me.
He placed our orders before returning to the table. “Whilst I’m mourning the loss of two dear friends, I do need this resolved swiftly.”
“As you’re aware, we’re working on it.”
Mannie tilted his head. “I need the museum open by the end of the week. The show must go on. You understand.”
I shrugged. “That’s not got anything to do with me. Any evidence that we need would have been collected from the ducking stool when Gretel’s body was removed. If you want to reopen the museum, then you can.”
Mannie smiled a little smugly. “I wasn’t asking your permission, Tempest. I’ll open the museum whenever I choose. But we can’t have two unsolved murders hanging over Willow Tree Falls. That’s terrible for business.”
I raised my chin. Typical Mannie, always thinking about the bottom line before anything else. “With Isadora gone, I need to speak to everyone who knew her. The killer has to be someone who knew both women.”
“That makes sense,” Mannie said. “Although, her team is made up of decent people. I still can’t picture any of them being involved with this.”
This time, I was the one who felt a little smug. “You knew both of the women. Be honest with me. What was your actual relationship with them?”
Mannie lurched back. He cleared his throat several times. “Well played, Tempest. It’s only right you ask me that question. I was friendly with Isadora. I considered her an asset and knew she’d prove a boon to tourist numbers, thanks to her book and its association with the museum. It’s a tragedy what happened to her. She could be a little single-minded when it came to her work, but she was a decent woman. I will miss her.”
“You didn’t find her to be obsessed with her work? She didn’t neglect your friendship because of it?”
“Not to a great degree. I always admire a feisty career woman. What’s wrong with that?”
“It makes a person selfish if they single-mindedly obsess over a goal, excluding everything else.”
“Oh! Well, no. I’d never describe Isadora as selfish. She was an academic. They tend to be eccentric and driven.”
“And Gretel? Be honest. I haven’t heard anybody say a kind word about Gretel other than you. Are you really going to tell me that you liked her?”
Mannie waited as our breakfasts were served before speaking. “I will admit to not being fond of Gretel.”
“Why didn’t you like her?” I sliced into a sausage on my plate.
He sighed. “She talked down to me. Have you heard that saying, never meet your heroes?”
“I have.”
“Gretel Le Strange was a hero of mine. I thought she’d be a fascinating woman, full of interesting facts and sharing knowledge of ancient magic. Instead, she was shrill and unpleasant. She accused me of being a smug, fat dwarf.”
Wiggles choked on the hash brown he was
eating, and I averted my gaze and focused on my toast to stop from laughing. “Try not to take it personally. Everyone said she was hard to get along with and could be rude.”
Mannie patted his paunch. “I tried everything to get her to like me, but Gretel was having none of it. She wasn’t interested in pleasantries or making people feel comfortable. She just cared about her work. If you didn’t agree with her, you were dead to her. She wouldn’t negotiate over anything.”
“Which must have made her difficult to work with at the museum.”
“Gretel’s input was valuable, and we made relevant changes to the exhibits but not without extra expense being incurred.” Mannie shook his head. “She was so rude to the staff that I thought they’d walk out. In hindsight, bringing her here was a bad idea.”
“I expect she’d agree since she’s dead.”
Mannie nodded sagely. “You might be right.”
“Since you weren’t a fan of Gretel’s, care to tell me where you were yesterday afternoon?”
His brow wrinkled. “I have no involvement in these unfortunate deaths.”
“So, tell me your alibi. I believe the murders are connected. It’s the same killer. If you killed Gretel—”
“Don’t say that.” Mannie flapped a hand in the air and looked around the café. “I can’t let my constituents hear such a terrible rumor. It could ruin my re-election chances if I’m embroiled in a murder investigation.”
“Especially if you did it,” I said. “Where were you yesterday? I need your alibi to exclude you from Isadora’s murder.”
Mannie’s lips pinched together. “I was with Trixie.”
“All afternoon?”
He nodded, his gaze going over my shoulder. “In fact, you can ask her yourself what we were doing.”
“Mannie! Sweetie pie.” A tall, willowy goddess with jet-black hair and an ample cleavage wrapped herself around Mannie and kissed the top of his head.
“Trixie. We were just talking about you.” Mannie’s cheeks glowed as she continued to kiss his head, leaving hot pink lipstick marks on his forehead. “Tempest Crypt, meet Trixie Vermouth.”
