“Time for Milton Braun,” Daniel said.
“I’m going to go talk to Lucy,” I said. After Hugo had vomited negativity all over Speech Night, I felt like she needed a friend.
“I’ll meet you by the gazebo afterward,” Daniel said.
I maneuvered my way through the throng of bodies until I reached the edge of the platform. Lucy was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s Milton?” a voice asked.
“I saw him about twenty minutes ago,” someone replied.
Calls for Milton were met with silence.
A scream pierced the air and I ran toward the source of the sound. A body was sprawled on the ground, staked by the wooden post of a sign.
Oh no.
I’d recognize that poor representation of a bee anywhere. It was one of Lucy’s signs—the one I’d drawn by hand.
“Milton has been staked!” a portly woman yelled, kneeling beside him.
I could tell by the cracked blue veins in his face that he was no longer undead. Thanks to my sign, Milton Braun was now permanently dead.
“Did you see anyone else nearby?” I asked the woman. A dwarf.
“No. I only saw him because I was looking for somewhere away from the crowd to pray,” she replied.
“Pray?” I queried.
“To the gods,” the dwarf said. “My prayers always increase during an election.” She glanced sadly at Milton. “I was praying that he wouldn’t win, but I certainly wasn’t praying that he’d drop dead.”
“What’s your name?”
“Her name is Paula Sands,” a familiar voice said.
I turned to see Astrid and Britta approaching the crime scene. Britta went straight to work keeping the encroaching crowd at bay. Nobody wanted to irritate the short-tempered Valkyrie.
“Hey, Astrid,” I said.
“Are you an eyewitness?” she asked.
“No, I just got here.”
“Me neither,” Paula said. “I only found the body.” Paula repeated her story about her prayers. “I’m happy to come down to your office and give you every last detail, Sheriff Astrid. I aim to be a good member of the community.”
“I know, Paula. Thank you.” Astrid let the dwarf pass as Britta continued to attempt crowd control. It seemed to be getting out of hand, with too many attendees of Speech Night wanting a glimpse of the dead candidate.
“That’s one of Lucy’s signs,” someone called.
“The fairy must have done it,” another voice cried. “It’s her sign.”
“Um, it doesn’t really work like that,” I said.
“Hugo said it was time to take out the fairy trash,” someone else yelled. “We need to listen to him.”
Egads. Tempers were flaring. I noticed Britta getting pushed back by the crowd and pulled out my wand. A little magic circle would do the trick.
I focused my will. “Protect the air/protect the ground/protect us with a circle round,” I murmured.
Residents began to bounce off an invisible barrier. Britta gave me a grateful smile over her shoulder.
“You come in handy sometimes, Hart,” she said.
I shrugged. “I do what I can.”
Once people realized they weren’t getting any closer to the crime scene, they lost interest and began to disperse. One spectator who remained on the perimeter of the circle, however, was Lord Gilder. As the head of the vampire coven and a member of the town council, he had more than a passing interest in the situation. He stared regretfully at his deceased friend before turning his attention to me.
“Allow me entry, please,” he said.
“I don’t know that I can,” I replied truthfully. The spell was new to me. If I lifted the spell for Lord Gilder, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to erect the barrier again.
“Do try.” He flashed his fangs in a way that meant business. As much as I liked the elder vampire, that didn’t mean he couldn’t frighten me on occasion.
I held out my wand, focused my will, and said, “Red rover, red rover/let Lord Gilder come over.”
Britta lifted an eyebrow. “Red rover? Really?”
I shrugged. “Whatever works.”
Lord Gilder stepped through the protective barrier with ease. “Well done, Emma.” He strode over to Milton’s body, where Astrid was busy studying the scene.
“Sorry you have to see this, Lord Gilder,” Astrid said, her attention focused on poor Milton.
“Certainly don’t apologize to me,” Lord Gilder said. “Catching the responsible party is my only concern.”
Astrid stood and dusted off her hands. “I’ll need to speak with the other two candidates, find out their whereabouts twenty minutes ago, since that was apparently the last time Milton was seen alive.”
“They were both giving speeches,” I said.
“Given the timeframe, either one could have slipped away and done this,” Astrid said somberly.
My heart began to pound. “You don’t actually think Lucy or Hugo is responsible for this?” Lucy was a sweetheart—a cutthroat competitor—but a sweetheart nonetheless. And no matter how much I disliked Hugo, I didn’t peg the centaur as a murderer. For one thing, he was too darn lazy to kill to anyone.
“I can’t say for certain,” Astrid said, “but there are hoofmarks here.” She pointed to the ground. Sure enough, I saw marks in the dirt that could have been made by the centaur.
“But there’s been a lot of foot traffic here tonight,” I said. “There’s no way to know when Hugo may have passed this way.”
“Then I guess I’ll need to ask him,” Astrid replied.
“You heard his speech,” Lord Gilder said. “His words talked about unity, but his tone suggested the opposite. Hugo is no fan of vampires. He thinks we’re too powerful.”
To be fair, the vampires were a powerful group within Spellbound, although I disagreed with the notion that they were too powerful.
“You can lower the protective barrier now,” Astrid said. “The crowd seems to have gone home.”
“Where is he?” a voice yelled, frantic. “Where’s my Milton?”
I lowered the barrier just as a woman came hustling toward the dead vampire. She practically pushed me aside to reach him. She wore a black dress with heels and sported more jewelry than I owned. She looked like a woman accustomed to the finer things in life. From what I knew of Milton, it seemed an odd match. She didn't look like the type of vampire who would plant trees in the elementary school garden for the heck of it.
“It can’t be true,” the woman said, and broke into sobs.
Lord Gilder draped an arm across her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Carolina.”
“His speech,” she choked out. “He never got to give it. He practiced all night.”
“I know he was excited about tonight,” Lord Gilder said. “We all were.”
Carolina Braun dropped to her knees beside her husband’s lifeless body. “I told him not to wear that hideous tie, but he insisted. He said it brought him luck.” She gave the body a hard shove. “Don’t feel so lucky now, do you? Stupid vampire.”
Although I knew it was her grief talking, it was still tough to watch. Carolina’s shoulders began to shake as her sobs grew louder and longer. Lord Gilder finally lifted her to her feet and escorted her away from the crime scene.
“We’ll talk to her later,” Astrid said. “She’s no use to the investigation in her current state.”
No. Who would be?
“You know I’m happy to help,” I said. “Just tell me what you need.”
Astrid nodded, her gaze still fixed on the victim. “I know. Despite what Hugo had to say in his speech, citizens like you and me are the glue that holds this place together.”
“And me,” Britta interjected.
Astrid didn’t give her sister a second look. “You’re more like the crazy glue.”
Britta nodded her approval. “I feel you.”
“We’re going to need to work fast on this one,” Astrid said. “We don’t want the ele
ction process to descend into chaos.”
She raised a good point. Voters had to trust the integrity of the system. If candidates were getting murdered, it undermined the entire democratic process.
I gazed across the field at the remaining crowd as the sky darkened behind them, and it reminded me of an incoming storm. I only hoped we weren’t too late.
Chapter 7
I knocked on the front door of the modest bungalow. The front porch was covered in potted plants and flowers. Mrs. White clearly liked her foliage.
The door opened and a white-haired woman in a red gingham apron greeted me. Her skin was remarkably smooth for a woman old enough to have white hair. As far as I knew, there was no Botox in Spellbound. And if you went to the trouble of having magical skin treatments, wouldn't you also address the issue of your hair?
"Mrs. White?" I asked. "I'm Emma…"
She scowled at me. "I know who you are, sorceress. No surprise to learn you’re defending that cruel thing next door."
I tried not to get my hackles up. "Mrs. White, I'm defending Harriet Leafbottom because that's my job. I've defended many residents in Spellbound, some of whom were acquitted of their crimes. Harriet deserves a fair trial and I'd like to ensure that we have all the pertinent information. I understand you gave some information to Sheriff Astrid."
Her inquisitive hazel eyes locked on me. "Fine. I'll talk to you. But only on the front porch. I'm not risking you tracking any black magic through my house."
I tried not to be offended. I knew that life in Spellbound would be an uphill battle once my secret was out. Naïvely, I hadn't expected it to make my job more difficult.
"That's not a problem, Mrs. White," I said. "I'm not looking for hospitality. I'm only looking for information."
Mrs. White sat on a wicker chair in between a set of potted plants and gestured for me to sit in the matching chair across from her. "So, what are your questions? The sooner I answer them, the sooner you’ll leave the premises.”
Yikes. Forget hospitality. Basic human kindness seemed to have gone out the window here.
I gathered my wits and plowed ahead. “It said in the file that you saw Harriet mistreat Esmeralda on multiple occasions. Can you describe those occasions to me?"
"Of course I can," she snapped. "I remember each one like a bad dream."
"If it was so bad, why didn't you report her sooner?"
"Because they’re my neighbors and I didn't want any problems,” Mrs. White said. "I'm an older woman and I live alone. I don't want to invite trouble from anybody."
Somehow, I got the impression that Mrs. White could handle herself, especially in a confrontation with a sixteen-year-old nymph.
“You’re a werelion, is that right?” I asked.
Her hazel eyes turned to slits. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I’m just surprised that a werelion would be concerned over trouble with nymphs. Older or not, you’d still have the advantage.”
Mrs. White straightened in her chair, her vague smile tinged with pride.
"So, what was the first incident that you witnessed?" I asked.
“Well, Harriet had that poor cat out in the backyard," Mrs. White said. "She was shaking a stick at it, like she was threatening the dear little thing.”
"Did she hit it with the stick?" I asked.
"Not that I saw," she said. "But she may very well have done. I heard the cat cry out at one point when I turned away from the window." She paused briefly. "I'm not going to offer you anything to drink or eat. Now I know that's not being a good host, but you are not a guest in my house."
I took a deep breath. "Yes, Mrs. White. You've made that perfectly clear. You're absolutely right. I'm not a guest in your house."
"Good," she said, slapping her hands on her thighs. "I'm glad we’re on the same page with that. The other incident I saw was her dumping some kind of liquid all over the cat’s back. The cat was screeching and I saw Harriet try to rub in the liquid."
"Is it possible that Harriet was giving the cat a bath and the cat was expressing her displeasure?" I could only imagine what would happen to me if I tried to bathe Magpie. I'd probably be the one to end up in Boyd’s office.
"I don't think so," she replied stiffly.
"Why don’t you think so?"
Mrs. White scratched her chin. "For one thing, there was no bucket of water. Nothing to rinse off the cat. And why wouldn't she do that inside, in the sink or the tub?"
I had to admit that she made some good points. I'd need to ask Harriet about that during our next meeting.
"Were there any other incidents that you remember?" I asked.
"Yes, one more. I saw Harriet spraying the cat with perfume. Then I saw the cat stumble and walk into a tree like it couldn't see anything. I was sure she’d blinded it, but then I saw the cat the next day and it seemed fine."
"Mrs. White, outside of these cat-related events, have you ever seen Harriet do anything to suggest that she is malicious or cruel?"
"Doesn't matter to me what else she does," Mrs. White said. "As far as I'm concerned, if you abuse an animal like that, then you are the scum of the earth. I can't believe she calls herself a nymph. They are supposed to be earth-loving creatures. Not that one. She's a rotten apple. Spoils the whole dryad bunch."
Well, there'd be no convincing Mrs. White. I could tell that much. No doubt she was voting for Hugo.
"Thank you for your time, Mrs. White. I appreciate it. If I have any more questions, is it okay to call on you again?"
Mrs. White peered at me. "As long as we sit out here on the porch, it's fine by me."
What a delightful woman. "Goodbye, Mrs. White." And good riddance.
"You want to do what?" Millie stared at me like a…Well, the way she usually stared at me. Like I was an idiot.
I’d waited until Professor Holmes left the classroom to spring my request on the other witches.
"I only need one hour," I insisted. Milton Braun's funeral was the perfect opportunity to observe mourners and look for clues to his murder.
"Just ask Demetrius to keep an eye out for odd behavior," Laurel said. "Or ask Astrid to attend."
"I'm sure Astrid is planning to be there," I said, "but she's going to be feeling self-conscious and I think it might distract her from a detailed observation." Vampire funerals were notoriously primal. A young blond Valkyrie would be like a red flag to a bull once the funeral party got going. It was a risk for Astrid to put herself in the middle of a building full of rowdy vampires, sheriff or not.
"Being invisible is the best option," I said. "I can look for suspects and, if things get out of hand for Astrid, I can help."
"Help how?” Sophie inquired. “You’ll be invisible."
"Yes, but I'll still have access to my magic," I said. "I don't need a wand, remember?" My type of magic wasn’t as reliant on a wand and grimoire spells as regular witchcraft. One of the perks of being a sorceress.
"I don't like this plan," Begonia said. "I didn't even want to do it when you snuck into Elsa's house to find the Obsession potion, but I went along with it because it was Daniel. Finding Milton's murderer just doesn't have the same importance to me."
I gaped at her. "Begonia, I appreciate your support with Daniel, but the fact that a murderer is roaming free in Spellbound should be important to you as well. At this point, we have no idea why someone killed Milton. Citizens are pointing fingers at the other two candidates. It’s bad for town morale.”
Begonia’s gaze drifted to her shoes. "I'm sorry. I know that sounded harsh. It's not that I don't care, but I do care about you. You don't want to keep doing spells that are dangerous."
The invisibility spell had the potential to trap me in the intangible realm until I faded away completely.
"It's only an hour," I said. "Enough time to let me observe the funeral party. If one of you waits for me down the street, I'll come straight to you and you can make me visible again. Easy peasy.”
The oth
er girls exchanged uneasy glances.
"I would love to help," Laurel said, "but I won’t be allowed out that late."
"I'll stay," Sophie said. “I’ll hang out at Broomstix and wait for you there."
Millie rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll go, too. We can't rely on Sophie to bring you back. What if she messes it up and makes you both invisible?"
Sophie glared at Millie. "I'm not as clumsy as I used to be, you know. I'm getting much better."
"You are, Soph,” Begonia said, patting her friend on the arm. "We’ve noticed and we are all very proud of you."
"What about you, Begonia?" I asked. "Are you in?"
"To be honest, I kinda want to be invisible, too so I can go with you," she said. "I would love the opportunity to observe vampires without detection."
"Correction," Millie said. "You want to be able to observe Demetrius Hunt without detection."
Begonia smiled. "He is easy to observe."
"Except I doubt very much he’s a suspect," I said. "So I don't think I'll be doing much Demetrius watching."
“Even so, you know I'm in," Begonia said. "Anything for you, Emma."
"Thanks. Remedial witches are the best," I said. "Meet me at Broomstix at sundown. We’ll watch the funeral procession through town first and then you can do the spell."
"Sounds like a plan," Sophie said.
It did, which was exactly what worried me. I knew what they said about the best laid plans…
The four of us stood outside Broomstix as the sun began its descent. I heard the clanging of the bells and watched as the sea of dark red cloaks swept across the main street of Spellbound. I'd only seen one vampire funeral procession since my arrival in Spellbound, and that was Gareth’s. It had been a haunting and beautiful scene, not much different from this one. The vampires wore their red cloaks as a symbol of mourning. At least, this time, I recognized far more vampires than I had during Gareth’s funeral procession. Demetrius, of course, but also Lord Gilder, Dr. Hall, Samson, Edgar, Killian, and a host of others.
"Is it weird to say this is one of the most beautiful events in town?” I asked. The scene was mesmerizing.
"I understand what you mean," Begonia said.
A Touch of Magic Page 5
