“So, what’s next on my tour of endless interviews? Is there a friend of a cousin’s neighbor we haven’t spoken with yet?”
Ignoring my question, he braved another bite of pie, devouring the entire thing in seconds. I handed him the apple fritter next, and he devoured that too. So much for dessert. The man was a workaholic who didn’t make time for sustenance. I crushed the part of me that was tempted to offer him the rest of my lunch. Don’t swoon over him like every other fawning female in this kingdom. Have some pride. Fake it, if you have to.
“Actually, I have an appointment with the Lockwoods to update them on the case.” He licked icing off his finger. Apparently, my eyes found the activity fascinating. “Come with me. You can interview the friend of a cousin’s neighbor later.”
A flicker of excitement hummed through my veins. Finally, something worthwhile.
I turned toward the street to hail a carriage. When Derrick didn’t follow, I glanced over my shoulder. He was back at the food stall. I’d created a monster. He exchanged a couple of coins for another fritter, then strolled toward the waiting carriage. Extra icing clung to the apple pastry, just the way I liked it. I licked my lips, craving it so badly. He knew it too. His gaze didn’t leave my mouth.
Bringing the fritter up as if to take the first bite, Derrick finally chuckled before changing direction and placing it in my hand instead. His fingers brushed over mine, sending sparks of heat across my skin.
Do. Not. Swoon.
“What are you doing?”
“Winning the war.”
“With a fritter?”
The rough timbre of his voice echoed in my ear as he helped me into the carriage. “Consider it the path of least resistance.”
Ugh. Maybe I’d let him live after all.
***
The carriage swayed over the ruts in the road, and I held on to the armrest to keep from pitching forward. Derrick sat across from me, better able to manage the bumpy ride. He eyed my death grip in amused silence.
“We could have taken horses. It would have been faster.”
I braced against a jolt that made my teeth slam together. “I don’t like to ride. Horses can sense my magic. It spooks them.”
“Are you sure it’s magic and not poor riding skills? Wouldn’t you spook the carriage horses as well?”
My shoulders stiffened. Did he have to investigate all the time? The man wasn’t happy until he’d routed every one of my flaws. I sniffed the air and peered out the window.
“If you must know, it’s horses that spook me.”
“You’re scared of the fastest, most reliable form of transportation?”
“I’d rather walk.”
He made a sound in the back of his throat. “That’s right. I remember. You like to walk alone, at night, through the kingdom’s alleys. It’s extremely dangerous. You’re lucky we found you when we did.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I’ve managed on my own for years, and just because we’re working together does not make me your responsibility.”
“You are my responsibility, Tessa.” He leaned forward in his seat and locked eyes with mine. The depth of his stare made the carriage small. Even flattened against the cushion, I felt overwhelmed by his presence. Spooked, the same way I felt with horses, uncertain what to expect or if I’d get thrown and have the wind knocked out of me.
“Are you about to issue another one of your rules? Let me guess, no walking alone after dark? Well, some people aren’t fortunate enough to waste money hiring expensive carriages.” I crossed my arms. “This one’s on you, by the way. I bought lunch. Don’t even think about adding the cost to my fines.”
He inclined his head and studied me in silence. “How long have you been on your own?”
I broke his stare to examine a hole in the leather cushion. Leave it to a detective to ask the personal questions.
“Seven years. My mother died when I was fifteen. I lived with Vivian and her grandmother for a while, until I was ready to take over the magic shop. I’ve been running it ever since.” Running it into the ground was more accurate, but I couldn’t tell him that. One sob story per carriage ride.
He waited until I returned his gaze, and the look on his face struck me. It wasn’t pity, which I expected, but understanding, as if he were piecing together my character and had stumbled across something important. I shifted in the seat, uncomfortable with the vulnerable tug on my insides.
“Enough about me. Before we meet with Ella’s family, you should tell me about the other girls. The ones whose names are next to the roses in your evidence room. I’ve waited long enough. Days, in fact.”
Derrick leaned back into the cushion. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Start with the woman before Ella.”
“Jane Porter?” Derrick hesitated, gathering his thoughts. “It happened about six months ago. She worked as a barmaid at the Laughing Raven. According to witnesses, she kept to herself and didn’t have a close circle of friends. No family I could track down. Her body was found in an alley. She’d been strangled, but what set her apart from similar crimes was the rose between her fingers. The detail of the rose was kept out of the papers, but a barmaid’s death, at night, in an alley…” He paused for effect. I rolled my eyes. “Doesn’t exactly make the front page. Ella’s murder changed that. It was public, almost taunting in nature, and on castle grounds. It’s been impossible to keep things quiet.”
Familiar frustration tinged his voice. I experienced the same deep-seated defeat when I failed a spell, knowing someone was counting on me, and there was nothing I could do about it.
“No one knows about the missing slipper.”
“Except for you.”
I shrugged. “Perks of seeing a ghost. Trust me, there aren’t many other perks.”
Derrick looked skeptical. He wasn’t ready to believe my ghost story. Thankfully, Prince Marcus had an open mind to the occult and deemed me… What was that glorious word he’d used? That’s right. An asset.
“What about the first victim?”
Derrick scrubbed a hand over his face. Talking about the victims was difficult for him. It was obvious he cared about his cases.
“Her name was Sophie. She was young, just turned sixteen, when she died three years ago. I was out of the kingdom training for the agency. All the information I have is secondhand.”
Our knees brushed as I scooted to the edge of the carriage seat. “What happened to her?”
“Sophie was the daughter of a wealthy merchant. Her family traveled to their country estate every fall to attend festivities at the royal hunting lodge. She went missing during one of the king’s deer hunts.”
“Hundreds of people must have been in attendance. The king used to invite all the affluent families to attend his fall feast.”
“That’s right. Villagers scoured the forest for days. There was no sign of her until one of the hunting dogs located her body partially submerged in the marsh. Her hands had been placed over her middle, with a long stem rose tucked between her fingers.”
“How did she die?”
Derrick’s voice grew hoarse. “Strangulation. There were ligature marks on her neck, mud and scratches on her feet, and defensive wounds on her hands. She fought hard.”
I tried to imagine that kind of fear. Those final moments, knowing you couldn’t win, yet fighting to the end. It left a cold ball of dread in my chest.
“What do you make of the roses?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. My guess would be a relationship gone sour, but there’s no evidence to support any of the girls had romantic attachments. There was a rumor Sophie might have shown interest in someone, possibly even exchanged letters, but I wasn’t able to substantiate that claim. The murders happened years apart. They knew different people, lived at opposite ends of the social spectrum, and there was an age difference between the two. My superior wasn’t convinced the roses linked the two women, and there were times I wasn’t sure either.
Maybe I wanted them to mean more than they did.”
“Until Ella?”
He nodded. “Until Ella. It’s too much of a coincidence. There’s a link between all of them, we just need to find it.”
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of a stately manor nestled between a copse of trees. Tangled vines climbed the walls, spreading like gnarled fingers around the window frames. Overgrown topiaries flanked a circular drive littered with fallen leaves and crumbling brick. Nature was doing its best to reclaim what was once a magnificent property.
Derrick exited the carriage and held out his hand to help me down the step. He spoke with the driver, instructing him to wait, and the carriage pulled off the lane to park. We traveled over the cracked walkway toward the door and used the brass knocker clenched between a bronzed lion’s mouth. A servant in black livery answered.
“Detective Chambers to see Mrs. Lockwood and her daughter, please.”
The servant ushered us into a small sitting room. Heavy brocade curtains tied back with golden tassels allowed the afternoon sun to spill onto the polished parquet floors. Dark wood paneling lined the walls, emphasizing the richly colored furnishings. The difference between outside and in was startling. Every surface gleamed, and the room smelled like fresh lemons. I remembered my first meeting with Ella and how I’d thought she was a scullery maid, but that made little sense given the state of her home and family lineage.
“Have you interviewed the staff?” I wandered toward the edge of the room to examine a marble chess set.
“Yes, but most won’t speak out against their employer for fear of losing their jobs. The Lockwood staff are no different.”
“I see.” I traced my finger over the beveled edges of a rook and wondered why Ella had been wearing a servant’s uniform the night of the ball. Had she stolen it to sneak out of the house, or was there something more there?
“Detective, thank you for coming.” A woman wearing a satin mourning gown sailed into the room. Tendrils of silver hair framed her face, slipping from the coil on top of her head where a wispy black veil hung down her back.
“Mrs. Lockwood, sorry for the delay. We came as soon as we could.”
Mrs. Lockwood waved her hand. “Nonsense. We’re happy you could make time. You remember my daughter, Helen?”
A beautiful young woman with elfin features and porcelain skin stepped from behind her mother and performed a perfect curtsy. Her sleek blonde hair curled in lush waves down her shoulders, in stark contrast to her fitted black gown. She smiled demurely at Derrick and blinked heavily fringed green eyes.
“Detective, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Our first meeting was under such horrid circumstances. I hope you’ll forgive my actions.” A blush infused her cheeks. “You were most kind to comfort me the way you did.”
Her sugar-sweet disposition made my teeth ache, and I narrowed a look at Derrick. Comfort her? Must be great to be a Detective.
Derrick shook his head. “You’re forgiven, Miss Lockwood. Grief makes people act in ways they don’t expect.”
A sly glint flashed in Helen’s eyes before she cast them downward in a display of modesty. “You’re too kind, Detective.”
I fought and barely won against the urge to roll my eyes and move between them. The flattery followed us wherever we went! I cleared my throat. Derrick pressed his hand against the small of my back, and my irritation melted. At least he hadn’t forgotten I existed completely.
“Ladies, let me introduce you to Tessa Daniels. She’ll be assisting me in the investigation.”
Helen sent me a frosty glare. She wasn’t pleased with the competition. Not that I thought of myself as competition; I just didn’t like the way she was ogling Derrick. This was a murder investigation, not a matchmaking soiree.
“Miss Daniels, welcome to our home. As you can imagine, it’s a difficult time for us. Our poor Ella, we miss her terribly.” Mrs. Lockwood dabbed an embroidered handkerchief under her eyes. “How could something like this happen? She didn’t even want to attend the ball and insisted on staying home.”
“Why do you think she changed her mind?” I asked.
“Who knows? The girl was impulsive, always jumping without looking. Took after her father. I fear that trait made her cross paths with a killer. Are there any leads, Detective?”
“I know how anxious you are for information, but we’re still interviewing guests as well as examining the scene. As soon as we have something concrete to share, we will. I want you both to know that Ella’s case is the agency’s top priority.”
“Thank you, Detective.”
“Since we’re here and Miss Daniels is a late addition to the case, would you mind if we take a walk through Ella’s room? A fresh set of eyes can only help.”
“Of course. We haven’t touched a thing. Please, follow me.” Mrs. Lockwood swept from the sitting room and up a large, curved staircase. I trailed behind, scoffing quietly at the way Helen captured Derrick’s arm to climb the steps. Spare me the sight of an able-bodied woman needing help up a set of stairs. It’s one foot in front of the other, lady. Even a witch can do it. Look! No hands! I glared a hole into Derrick’s back, hoping he could feel it, but when he probed the spot with his fingers and glanced over a shoulder, I dropped my gaze to feign interest in the decorative handrail.
At the top of the steps, Helen stumbled on the edge of the carpet, forcing Derrick to catch her. She murmured a thank-you, clinging to his forearm like a squirrel around a tree branch. Derrick removed her hands, set her away from him, and continued down the hall. Placing a fist on her hip, she huffed and hurried along.
What a piece of work.
They turned left, disappearing from view, and I lingered to let my temper cool. I needed to focus on the investigation and not on watching Helen flirt with Derrick, which only made me want to stick a needle into a doll of her likeness. Realizing I was lagging behind and didn’t know the layout of the house, I hurried around the corner but came to an abrupt stop in the empty hallway. It branched off in multiple directions before a second staircase led to another floor. Blast. Which way to Ella’s room? I listened, hoping to hear their voices, but the house was eerily quiet.
A door creaked. Faster than I could process, something slipped through the gap.
My breath fogged around my lips as a sudden chill gripped the hall. The last time this happened, Ella had appeared. An instinctual pull drew me closer to the door. Derrick would be annoyed if I went off alone, but I had to go where Ella wanted to take me, and it seemed that was this way. I was going to have to investigate a bit on my own.
So much for rule number one.
Chapter 10
The door revealed a dark staircase that led to the servants’ quarters. At the bottom was another hallway. A musty odor infused the air, and water-stained floorboards peeked out from below the edges of a threadbare carpet. As the temperature plunged further, the symbols on my palm started to glow.
Why had Ella led me here? My palm pulsed with heat, luring me to wrap my fingers around the knob of a partly closed door. Heavy eyelids left me feeling like I’d been drugged. When they closed fully, I saw Ella huddled in front of a stone fireplace, packets of letters at her feet. She pored over them, tears coursing down her cheeks, before moving to a thin mattress and sobbing herself to sleep.
The vision faded. I entered the room, and the chill followed me inside. There was the fireplace where Ella had read the letters. A frayed mattress rested on a bed frame in the corner, and a small nightstand had been pushed against the wall. I knelt by the grate, noticing a footprint in a thin layer of soot, and sifted through the charred pile of ash. A few pieces of paper hadn’t burned all the way through, so I pulled them from the ruin, edges crumbling in my hands, but I was able to make out some of the words.
Dear Miss Lockwood,
I regret to inform you that we’ve done all we can to determine the cause of your father’s illness. We recommend that you make him comfortable in his final days.
There were only a few visible sentences on the second letter.
My Dearest Ella,
How your father has missed you. I know these last few months have been difficult, but give them a chance. You’ll grow to love each other as I have grown to love your stepmother, Olivia. Treat them well while I’m away.
Whatever else the letter contained was now lost. Ella likely had a rough transition into her new family. Having her father die so soon after he re-married must have been devastating. I knew how easy it was to feel alone even when surrounded by other people.
Seeing the room with fresh eyes, I imagined Ella sleeping on the mattress, isolated from the rest of her family. Why was Olivia showing Derrick to a room that wasn’t hers?
I placed the charred remains on the stone hearth and walked toward the nightstand. The drawer held a worn novel and a fresh apron. Between the fabric folds was a bronze padlock and a key. I frowned, holding the weight of it in my hand. The bedroom door had a metal latch three-quarters of the way up. Was Ella barring her room at night? And if so, from whom?
An odd bundle protruded from under the thin comforter on the bed, resembling a wad of clothes. Maybe it was more of Ella’s letters? I reached toward the mound.
“What are you doing down here?” Derrick’s voice boomed from the doorway, making me jump. The thud of his boots echoed on the floor at the same time a loud hiss filled the room. I knew instantly what had made that sound. Of all the rotten luck.
A cat.
The blanket fell away, and sharp claws sank into my outstretched hand. I yelped, spinning away from the attacking beast. Derrick wasn’t so lucky. The black cat leaped from the bed, mewling and hissing as it darted between his legs. He tried to get out of its way but lost his balance and crashed into me. We fell, tangled together, landing hard against the mattress. He caught himself with his hands, our faces inches apart.
“We need to stop meeting like this, Detective.” My gaze was drawn to his mouth, and a rush of heat spread through my body. His lips moved, and it seemed to take ages for the sound to reach my ears.
Spellbound After Midnight (Ever Dark, Ever Deadly Book 1) Page 8
