by Lily Webb
Duh, Flora! Maybe she would let me use her phone.
I ran back across Luna Street to the office and went right for her desk, ducking and dodging the flying papers and everything else in the air along the way. She smiled at me.
“Hey, Zoe,” she said. “You look flushed. Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Hey, uh, would you mind if I used your cell phone for a minute? I need to make a personal call,” I said.
“Oh, shoot, I’m so sorry. We still need to get that taken care of, don’t we?” Flora asked, but she reached for one of her drawers anyway. She pulled her phone out and passed it to me.
“We should probably get you set up with a bank account before payday too. Are you free tonight?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” I said as I took the phone from her. “I’ll be right back.” I waved the phone at Flora and made a beeline for the front door, rounded the corner of the building, and flattened my back against it. It wasn’t exactly a secure location, but I couldn’t think of anything better.
With my hands shaking, I pulled the piece of paper out of my pocket and dialed the number on Flora’s phone. It rang twice.
“Yeah? Who’s this?” a gruff voice boomed in my ear and the itchies ran all across my body. Whoever it was, they were paranormal.
“H-hi, uh, is this Deryn?” I stuttered, but the only answer I got was the clicking of the phone as the call disconnected. Crap.
I redialed and the same person answered before the first ring finished.
“Look, I don’t know who gave you this number, but you need to delete it right now and forget you ever called me,” the voice growled in my ear.
“Wait, please, this is Zoe Clarke with the Moon Grove Messenger, I just wanted to talk to you about—”
“I don’t talk to reporters, period,” the man interrupted.
“About Harper Woods,” I continued. The line went silent, perforated only by crackling static.
“What did you say?” he asked a few beats later.
“Harper Woods. Listen, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m trying to get to the bottom of what happened to my colleague, and I think you might be able to help,” I said.
“I can’t help you. I don’t know anything about that.”
“I think you were the last person to see Harper alive,” I plowed on, ignoring him. The line got so quiet I heard him gulp on the other end.
“How do you know that?”
“People talk if you take the time to ask them,” I said, and he chuckled.
“Maybe they do, but not me,” he said.
“You’re all I’ve got, Deryn,” I said, and again the line went silent.
“How do you know my name?” he asked. My heart hammered in my throat. I wished I could read minds over the telephone. Was it really his name or was he lying?
“Like I said, people talk,” I said. “Listen, the way I see it, you can either talk with me, or you can talk to the police. Personally, I think you’ll have better luck with me.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No. It’s a warning. The police don’t know about you yet, but they’ll trace their way back to you eventually just like I did,” I said.
“I’m not afraid of the cops, I used to be one,” he said, and my eyebrows crept up my forehead. An ex-cop trading secrets with a reporter? Not totally uncommon, but noteworthy nonetheless. Was that what got him out of the police force?
“It’s your crowd that scares me,” he said.
“Why?”
“You’re joking, right? The last time I talked to a reporter, she wound up dead,” Deryn said.
“Which is why you need to tell me what you know,” I said. “I heard you were helping Harper with a story about—”
“Is this off the record?” he interrupted.
I paused, considering what to do. If I said yes, I could never use any of his words in print. But if I said no, he probably wouldn’t tell me anything. He definitely knew what he was doing by asking the question.
“Yes,” I breathed, hoping I wouldn’t live to regret it. “What happened that night? I know Harper was on her way to meet you. Why?”
If I kept peppering him with questions, he might let something slip.
“I had info she wanted,” he said.
“About what?”
“I don’t know I can trust you enough to tell you that,” Deryn said and I kicked the dirt in front of me.
“I’m only asking because I want to figure out what happened to her. I’m not hiding anything,” I said. “The Messenger hired me to replace her. I’m scared for my own safety. That’s all.”
“You should be,” Deryn said. “You’re digging in places you have no business.”
“Only because no one else will,” I said. Nothing but static crackled in response until Deryn chuckled.
“You don’t take no for an answer. I like that,” Deryn said.
“Then tell me what you know,” I insisted.
“I overheard something,” he said a few seconds later, and my heart jumped further up in my throat.
“What?”
“A couple of vamps talking about a deal one of their brethren struck with a witch, a powerful one,” Deryn said. I couldn’t believe my ears. It had to be Opal he was talking about, but which vampires?
“Opal Cromwell?” I asked.
“Me and Harper met a few times,” he evaded. “That night she died, we were supposed to meet again so I could answer that same question for her, but I got cold feet,” Deryn said.
“Why?”
“Like you said, people talk. I heard through the grapevine the wrong crowd knew we were meeting regularly and I got scared,” Deryn said.
A chill ran down my spine.
“I went to the bar instead to wait it out. I figured that with a bunch of people around no one would try anything funny.”
“So you don’t know what happened to Harper?”
“Not a thing,” he said. “I swear. Why would I want to hurt her? I reached out to her because I heard something I thought Moon Grove at large should know and with her profile I knew she could get it out there.”
“Do you think Opal might’ve—”
“I dunno what to think,” Deryn interrupted. “But I’ll tell you one thing, I don’t trust that witch one bit. Why else would she be trying to court the vampire vote if she wasn’t working with them behind the scenes?”
“Good question,” I said.
“I’ve heard some other rumors too,” Deryn said, his voice lower.
“What?”
“About the crime scene.”
“What about it?”
“The police found a broken broomstick in the bushes near the grave where Harper was buried,” Deryn said. A broken broomstick? What did that have to do with anything?
“How do you know that?”
“You reporters aren’t the only ones with contacts,” Deryn said.
“So you think Opal killed Harper with a broomstick somehow and then buried her in Claudette Riddle’s grave because Harper knew about Opal’s deal with the vampires?” I asked.
“I told you, I dunno what to think about anymore,” Deryn said. “Maybe you ought to talk to the police about it, see if you can’t scare up that broomstick.”
“I think you’re right. Thanks for the info,” I said.
“Don’t mention it. Ever. And don’t call this number again,” Deryn said and clicked off the line.
I hoped I wouldn’t ever have another reason to dial him.
Chapter Eleven
Flora looked at me like I was crazy as I thrust her phone into her hands. I’d at least had the smarts to delete the calls I’d made from her history before giving it back.
“That was quick,” she said as she took the phone.
“I just had to take care of some stuff back home, you know how it goes,” I lied. Flora furrowed her eyebrows at me.
Crap. I forgot it was impossible to lie to a fairy.
“I sure do,” she said. “Hey
, listen, I’m just about done for the day. You want to get a phone and bank account after work?”
“Sure,” I said, shrugging. “By the way, what time does the police department close?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The police department. I need to swing by there too,” I said.
“Why?”
“Reasons,” I mumbled, looking away from her. It wasn’t a lie, or at least not entirely.
“What are you up to now?” Flora asked, frowning.
“Nothing.”
“Zoe, you literally can’t lie to me, so stop trying,” Flora said, staring at me.
“Fine,” I sighed. “I want to talk to the police about some stuff I’ve heard about Harper,” I whispered.
“Seems you’ve been busy,” Flora said, though she smiled. “Good for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but don’t tell Mitch I said that, and don’t let him find out what you’re doing,” she whispered. She powered off her computer and gathered her things.
“Want me to come with you? I’ll know if they’re telling you the truth,” she said.
I considered it for a moment. It was hard to say no to a walking lie detector, but I figured I’d have better chances with the police on my own — and I didn’t really want to drag Flora into all this.
“It’s probably better if I fly solo, at least for now,” I said.
“Okay. Should I wait for you outside?”
“Yeah, good idea,” I said.
“Let’s go,” Flora said as she stood.
She stepped around her desk and led me out of the office and across the street to the station. It was a small brick building with the words “Moon Grove Police Department” hanging on its exterior. I’d never paid it much attention before, much less been inside, but now that we stood in front of it I was intimidated.
Talking to the police wasn’t easy under any circumstances, but it was trickier when trying to pry for information the cops weren’t legally obligated to share.
“Are you okay?” Flora asked.
“A little afraid, but I’ll be all right,” I said, more to comfort myself than to convince her.
“Just remember they’re on your side,” Flora said. I wished I could believe that, but I wasn’t quite there yet.
“Go on, I’ll wait out here.”
“Okay.”
I took two steps forward and froze. A couple of cops sat at desks behind the floor-to-ceiling glass doors, and neither of them looked friendly — they’d only get frostier when they learned I was a reporter.
“You’ve got this,” Flora encouraged me.
Nodding, I pushed the front door open and the first cop confronted me with his arms crossed over his chest. A five ’o clock shadow dusted his rocky, grizzled cheeks and wrinkles sagged from his face, making him look like an upright basset hound. He’d probably seen more in his time in Moon Grove than I ever would.
“Can I help you?” he growled.
“Hi, I’m Zoe Clarke, I’m a reporter—”
“From the Messenger,” the cop interrupted. “Yeah, well aware.”
The name “Mueller” flashed on the pin he wore above his left breast pocket.
“Sorry, and you are?” I asked.
“Fenrir Mueller, police chief,” he said.
Okay, the boss wasn’t exactly the first person in the department I hoped to talk to, but I had to start somewhere.
“Nice to meet you, Chief Mueller,” I said. He grunted.
“Look, we’ve got a lot to do around here, Miss Clarke. Is there something you need?” he asked.
“I just had a few questions about the Harper Woods case,” I said. Mueller glared at me, and I stared right back, unflinching.
“We don’t discuss ongoing investigations,” Mueller said.
“I know, but I was hoping I might be able to help,” I said.
“How?”
“I’ve been talking to some people around town since I moved here and I think I might have some information you’d be interested in,” I said.
I was skating on thin ice, but I didn’t know what else to do. If what Deryn told me could be used as a bargaining chip for more information about Harper, then potentially exposing Deryn was a risk worth taking.
I focused on Mueller’s eyes until the whooshing in my ears let me know I was inside his head.
“Miss Clarke, if you have anything you’d like us to know, you can file it directly—”
“What about the broomstick found at the crime scene?” I interrupted. Mueller stared at me like I’d uttered the worst curse word in history.
How did she know about that? Is someone leaking info? Mueller thought. They better pray I don’t find out who they are.
“As I said, we don’t discuss the details of ongoing investigations,” Mueller said. “You ought to know that.”
“So it’s true then?”
“We don’t comment on rumors or speculation either,” Mueller said. She’s pushy, he thought, and I smirked.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said. Mueller scowled.
“I think you should leave, Miss Clarke,” he said. Before you get yourself in trouble, he added in his thoughts.
“Come on, Chief, don’t you think you’re being a little too hard on her?” The other, much younger cop said from his desk, breaking my connection to Mueller’s mind.
“No,” Mueller said. “Get back to work, Barrett.”
“Someone’s in a mood today,” Barrett grumbled.
“I’d be happy to leave my contact info with you fellas if you change your minds,” I said.
“Not necessary. We know where to find you,” Mueller said.
No wonder he was the police chief — he was hard as nails. I understood now why the force had a reputation around town.
“Okay then, it was nice meeting you both,” I said and waved at the two of them as I left.
“Zoe, wait!” Barrett called just as my hand touched the door handle. He came out from behind his desk and stepped over to me, Mueller glaring at him the entire time.
“Could we have a word? Outside?”
“Sure,” I said, grateful Flora had decided to wait for me. I wasn’t sure what Barrett wanted to say, but if he lied about anything, Flora would catch it — and I could probably peek into his thoughts to grab any details he withheld.
I led him outside, and Flora threw me a concerned look.
“Hey, Flora, how are you?” Barrett asked, smiling.
“Hi, Ewen. I’m well, thanks,” Flora said, though she didn’t seem to want to make eye contact with him.
“Ewen? You two know each other?” I asked.
“You could say that, yeah,” Ewen said.
“Officer Barrett and I dated briefly,” Flora said.
Whoa, Flora dated a werewolf cop? Dang. Get it, girl.
“Oh. Huh. Awkward,” I said. Was that the real reason Barrett followed me?
“Doesn’t have to be,” Ewen said.
“Right. Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about, Ewen?” I asked. “Can I call you that?”
“Sure. I wanted to ask you about what you said in there,” Ewen said, leading us further away from the door, which probably wasn’t a bad idea given Mueller’s temperament.
“What did you want to know?”
“Where did you hear about the broomstick?” he asked.
“Come on, Ewen, a journalist never reveals her sources,” I said, and he smirked at me.
“Hey, it was worth a shot.”
“So there was a broomstick involved then?” I asked.
“I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation,” he said.
“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” I said, making eye contact with him so I could slip into his thoughts.
I like her, she’s determined, Ewen thought.
He had that right.
“You know, I used to work with Harper from time to time. The three of us were friends,” Ewen said, gesturing between h
imself and Flora. The plot thickened.
“I see. Did she ever happen to tell you anything about what she was working on before she died?” I asked.
“Nothing. Believe me, I wish she had,” Ewen said, frowning. Maybe then I could’ve prevented it, he thought.
“Well, there’s no sense in feeling guilty about something you had no control over,” I said. Ewen furrowed his brows and Flora coughed nervously.
Oops. Keeping people’s words and thoughts separate wasn’t easy.
“No, probably not. Anyway, I’m glad the Messenger is trying to figure this out. Our investigation is going a little slower than usual. Given that Harper was a friend of mine, I’d love to help you with the story, but I can’t,” he said.
Mueller’s probably going to kill me for even talking to her, he thought. But maybe it’s not a bad thing she knows about Opal’s broomstick. She could help us figure out how Opal did it and why it was broken.
“I understand,” I said, trying my best not to let what I’d just heard in his head show on my face.
So it was Opal’s broomstick they found at the scene. If that didn’t directly tie Opal to Harper’s murder, I didn’t know what else would. But had she really killed Harper with her broomstick, of all things?
“That said, it might be worth your time to talk to the Council,” Ewen said. Especially Opal, he thought. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”
“Gotcha. Thanks, Ewen. It was nice to meet you, but Flora and I have some errands we need to run, so I guess we’ll see you around,” I said.
“Sure thing. And hey, don’t let Mueller scare you. He’s all bark and no bite,” Ewen said.
“Clever,” I laughed, and Ewen smirked.
“Call me sometime, Flora,” he said. Flora smiled and nodded, and Ewen waved at us before heading back inside the station.
“Sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about,” Flora said as we walked down Crescent Street.
“We sure do,” I said, looking at her sideways. Her porcelain skin turned bright pink.
“Why didn’t you tell me you dated a cop? That’s a useful connection,” I said.
“Which is why I didn’t tell you,” she said. “Besides, we didn’t end on a great note.”
“What happened?”
“We got into a fight over Harper,” Flora said, and I stopped walking to look her in the eye.
