“So the cheese and crackers aren’t part of the potion making?” I asked. The plate of nibbles nearby was making my mouth water.
“Help yourself,” Sally said. “The cheese is local.”
“I’d be disappointed if it wasn’t,” I replied. I took one cracker and plopped a chunk of cheese on top. Delicious. I often wondered whether I’d love cheese as much if I’d grown up elsewhere. The answer was probably.
“How’s the investigation?” Sally asked, immediately wiping away the trail of crumbs I left on the counter. “Any leads?”
“None that have panned out so far,” I said. “I’m meeting the new chief to interview a suspect.” I didn’t mention Ted’s name. I knew they’d object to me even questioning Chief O’Neill’s brother. For evil supernaturals, they were oddly loyal.
“I was sorry to hear about the chief,” Rafael said. “He was a frequent customer in the restaurant. The man liked his porterhouse.”
“Such a nice man,” Julie agreed. “He caught me in the woods once—I’d forgotten to take my blocker that month and had shifted—and he didn’t bat an eye. Thought I was naked because I was hooking up with a boy.”
Meg’s jaw unhinged. “What happened?”
“He got me a blanket from his patrol car to preserve my modesty,” Julie said. “Told me to go home before I ran into any trouble.” She smiled vacantly. “He didn’t have a clue, bless him.”
Meg popped a piece of cheese into her mouth. “I will never forget to take my blocker.”
“I met this Chief Fox at the Cheese Wheel,” my father said. “I don’t care for him.”
Rafael handed him the finished potion and my dad gulped it down without protest.
“He seems okay,” I said. I didn’t want to sound too defensive and risk an inquisition.
“If Mick’s death isn’t avenged…” my dad began.
I cut him off. “We don’t even know if there’s anything to avenge. It still might have been an accident.” I didn’t want my father getting any ideas. It was one thing to carry out revenge plans in other jurisdictions, but he had to realize what a difficult position he’d put me in to take action here.
“Eden’s on the case, Uncle Stanley,” Meg said. “She’ll keep the new chief on his toes.”
“Or on his back from what I’ve heard,” Sally murmured.
I fixed her with a hard stare. “I need to go, but it was good to see everyone. Enjoy your visit, Gustav. Try to keep my dad out of trouble.”
“We’re going out tonight,” Gustav said. “So no promises.”
“Take more cheese,” my dad said. He pushed the plate toward me. “You can’t reap vengeance on an empty stomach.”
“Dad!” My father was exasperating at times. “Vengeance is not my job. I’m an FBM agent.”
“You’re a fury, first and foremost.” My father cracked his knuckles. “But if you can’t handle it, let me know when you find the culprit and I’ll be happy to administer my particular brand of vengeance.”
“Stanley, mind your joints,” Sally admonished him.
“I’ll see you all later,” I said. Now that my father was threatening to take action, I felt more motivated than ever to find out what happened to Chief O’Neill.
Chapter Eight
The Chipping Cheddar lighthouse is one of the town’s most iconic structures. It towered over the Chesapeake Bay, providing navigational assistance to the bevy of boats that frequented the area. Ted had served as the lighthouse keeper for as long as I could remember. Between the O’Neill brothers, the town was well protected.
“So what makes this guy such a character?” Chief Fox asked. He parked the police car not far from the lighthouse. I was trying to ignore the fact that he smelled like fresh pine and sea salt. If a candle existed with his scent, I’d totally buy it.
“He never married…” I began.
“Oh, well, now I understand.”
I frowned. “You’re teasing me.”
“It’s kind of fun,” he replied. “An added benefit of our official time together.”
There it was. Official. Although I knew he only desired my company in a professional capacity, I couldn’t help but wish he had a personal ulterior motive.
“I guess I’ll have to go back to my dark office when this is all over.”
“Your office is dark?” he asked. “Do they have you in a dungeon or something?”
I explained my location between the donut shop and tattoo parlor.
“But donuts,” the chief said encouragingly.
“True, but last time I checked, donuts don’t provide natural light.”
“They do have holes,” he said.
I laughed. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
We vacated the car and trudged toward the lighthouse. The air wrapped around me like a warm blanket and I heard the call of seagulls overhead. I didn’t blame Ted for spending so much time here. It was an idyllic spot.
“How many steps?” Chief Fox asked.
“Why? You don’t look out of shape,” I said.
He puffed out his chest. “We strippers need to keep our physiques up to snuff.”
The back of my neck grew warm at the mention of my Cheese Wheel faux pas. “I’ll go first. I haven’t seen Ted since I’ve been back.”
“That’s the whole point of bringing you,” the chief said. “Friendly face first.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about being used like this.” I started the long, winding climb to the top.
“Hey, I’m helping you with your Vitamin D intake. If you handle cyber crimes, you must sit in that dark office all day.”
“I make an effort to stay active.”
“I can see that.” I couldn’t be sure, because unlike my mother, I didn’t have eyes in the back of my head, but I had the burning sensation that the chief was watching my backside all the way up the steps.
“Is that my kung pao chicken?” Ted called when we reached the top.
“Afraid not,” I said, stepping into the circular space at the top of the lighthouse.
Ted’s eyebrows knitted together. “Eden?” He wore goggles on top of his head, causing his white hair to stick up around them. He was dressed in a white karate outfit complete with an orange belt. He reminded me of Dr. Emmett Brown from Back to the Future in that weird and wonderful way.
“Hi, Ted,” I said.
Ted’s gaze flickered to the chief behind me. “And who’s your friend?” He then seemed to notice Chief Fox’s uniform and badge. “Oh. You’re the new chief?”
“Nice to meet you, Ted. I’m Chief Sawyer Fox. I’m terribly sorry about your brother. I’ve heard a lot of great things about him since my arrival.” He shook Ted’s hand.
“Are you old enough to be a chief?” Ted asked. “You look like you’re still in college.”
“No, sir,” Chief Fox replied. “Not for quite some time.”
Ted nodded absently before shifting his focus back to me. “Are you home for a visit?”
“No, I moved back for work.”
Ted chuckled. “I owe your Aunt Thora twenty bucks. She said you’d be back the day you left, but I thought for sure we’d seen the last of you.”
“You remember a bet with my aunt?” I asked. “That would’ve been years ago.”
Ted tapped the side of his head. “My bank account might be empty but my memory bank is full.”
“Which kind of martial arts do you do?” the chief asked.
Ted stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
Chief Fox gestured to his attire. “You’re an orange belt. Is it Shotokan or something else?”
“I don’t partake in any such activity,” Ted replied.
The chief shot me a helpless look. I didn’t know what to say. I warned him that Ted was a character. I decided to change the subject.
“This is the best view in town, Ted,” I said. I walked to the window and surveyed the boats in the bay as the sunlight reflected off the water. A perfect day.
; “It really is spectacular, isn’t it?” Ted said. “I never tire of it.” He joined me at the window. “You know your aunt and I spent many a romantic evening up here in our youth.”
I held my hands over my ears. I didn’t want to hear racy details about my sweet Aunt Thora. Ted didn’t know about my family’s heritage. According to family gossip, my great-aunt had broken up with Ted to save him from heartache. She knew she couldn’t marry him, not without inflicting my family upon him and introducing him to a world he wasn’t equipped to handle. She ended up marrying my Uncle Cyrus, an excessus demon, and they had my Uncle Moyer and Aunt Charisma. Uncle Cyrus died before I left Chipping Cheddar.
“Is Thora the sweet aunt that I met?” Chief Fox asked.
“Yes,” I said, removing my hands. Only my great-aunt would find someone like Ted endearing. Of all my family members, she was the one I most identified with. Beneath her witchy exterior beat a soft heart. Even her choice of a demon husband had been relatively tame. As an excessus demon, Uncle Cyrus encouraged excessive behavior, especially in drinking, smoking, and gambling. He was the voice that whispered in their ears to keep going.
Ted tugged on his ear. “What brings you to the lighthouse? Is this a routine call for the new chief?”
“Not routine,” the chief replied. “I’m investigating your brother’s murder.”
His eyes bulged. “Murder?” Ted repeated. “Someone murdered him? I thought he fell in the bay and drowned.”
“Well, technically, he did,” the chief said. “The question is who put him there?”
“Why do you think someone put him there?” Ted asked. “My brother couldn’t swim. He could easily have fallen in and not been able to get out.”
“According to others we’ve spoken to, your brother avoided the waterfront for that very reason,” Chief Fox said. “Does it make sense to you that he was close enough to the bay to fall in?”
Ted shook his head and muttered, “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”
“What can you tell me about the property near Cheddar Gorge?” Chief Fox asked.
Ted squinted in confusion. “Uncle Gordon’s land? What does that have to do with anything?”
“You tell me,” the chief said. “It’s come to my attention that you and your brother had a longstanding dispute over the parcel of land. Why don’t you tell me more about it?”
Ted blew a raspberry. “No one can possibly think I’d kill my own brother over a patch of dirt and trees.” He whipped off the goggles and placed them on a nearby mannequin.
I became fixated on the mannequin for a brief moment. How I missed it when I came in I had no idea.
“Um, Ted? What’s with the mannequin?” There was a face drawn on the blank canvas and it wore a pink floral dress.
“That’s Mildred,” Ted replied.
Chief Fox maintained a neutral expression, but I knew he had to be wondering exactly how insane Ted was on a scale of one to Lizzie Borden.
“It gets lonely up here sometimes,” Ted admitted. “Mildred is good company.”
My chest tightened, realizing the extent of Ted’s loneliness. “I talk to myself,” I blurted. The people pleaser in me wanted to make Ted feel less awkward about his admission.
“You do?” Chief Fox turned toward me.
“Your Aunt Thora does that, too,” Ted said. He smiled to himself, as though recalling a particular memory. “Mildred and I like to dance.”
“Sounds nice,” I said.
Chief Fox cleared his throat. “Can we get back to the property dispute?”
“I didn’t see why Mick wanted it,” Ted said. “He had his own piece of land with a nice house.”
“Did he lose it in the divorce, though?” I asked.
Ted chewed his lip. “He did, but he rebounded quickly enough. Got another place. Still didn’t build on the property.”
“Probably because the two of you hadn’t worked out an agreement,” I pointed out.
“That land was meant for me,” Ted said.
“You want to build a house on it?” Chief Fox asked.
“No, I don’t want anyone to build on it,” Ted said. “I want to keep it in its natural state. That’s why I want to protect it from falling into the wrong hands.”
“You think your brother’s hands would have been the wrong ones?” I asked.
“No, but he was married to Margaret at the time,” Ted said. “I worried what she would do with it.”
“And what about after the divorce?” Chief Fox asked. “By all accounts, you were still fighting over it.”
“Not really,” Ted said. “We just hadn’t talked about it in recent years. It had been such a sore subject.” He shuddered. “I don’t like family drama.”
That made two of us.
“Well, you can breathe a sigh of relief because the property is legally yours now,” Chief Fox said. “If you’re concerned about its future, though, make sure you address it in your will.”
“I’ve got it covered, Chief,” Ted said. “Thanks, though.”
We’d already lost one O’Neill this week. It wasn’t worth contemplating Ted’s demise as well.
“Is there anyone you can think of that would have wished your brother harm?” the chief asked.
“I suppose you haven’t talked to Lawrence Whitaker.”
“Who’s that?” I asked. The name didn’t ring a bell.
Chief Fox snapped his fingers. “He was a recent arrest. I saw his file on the chief’s desk.” He stroked his dimpled chin. “I didn’t notice anything unusual about the case.”
“That’s because my brother didn’t mention it to anyone except me,” Ted said. “Mick knew Lawrence from golf. They were part of some group that met for games.”
“And the chief had to arrest him?” I asked.
“The charges didn’t stick, whatever they were,” Ted said. “Can’t remember, but Mick said that Lawrence threatened him.”
Well, this was new information. “What was he arrest for, Chief?”
“I’ll need to consult the file,” Chief Fox said. “But thanks for the lead, Mr. O’Neill. It’s very helpful.”
Ted lowered his head. “I want to know what happened to my brother as much as you do. He was the only family I had left.” He glanced at the mannequin. “It’s just you and me now, Mildred.”
“It was great to see you again, Ted.”
The lighthouse keeper adjusted his orange belt. “You, too. Give my regards to Thora.” He smiled at the mannequin. “We wouldn’t mind a visit from Thora, would we, Mildred? She’d be a welcome addition to our dance card.”
“I’ll be in touch, Mr. O’Neill,” the chief said, ushering me toward the exit.
I hurried down the winding staircase before there was any mention of a threesome.
According to the report, Lawrence Whitaker had been arrested for drunk driving. Chief O’Neill had made the arrest himself on a Sunday afternoon at four o’clock, not far from the country club. Lawrence hired none other than Jayson Swift to defend him, which explained why the charges didn’t stick. One more reason to dislike the slimy lawyer.
“Does Deputy Guthrie know anything about this?” I asked. We were in the chief’s office reviewing the file for helpful details.
“Let’s find out,” Chief Fox replied. He hit the buzzer on the landline. “Deputy, are you here?”
Sean appeared in the doorway two minutes later. He scowled when he noticed me in the chair. I was tempted to stick out my tongue but thought better of it.
“Do you know anything about the arrest of Lawrence Whitaker?” Chief Fox asked.
Sean pursed his lips. “I remember that the chief wasn’t happy about arresting him, but he was even less happy when he got off.”
“I understand the two men were friends,” Chief Fox said. “Is that true?”
“I know they played golf together sometimes,” Sean said. “But as part of a bigger group.”
“Whitaker’s address is on Abertam Road,” Chief Fox said, rea
ding from the report. “Where’s that?”
“I don’t know it,” I said.
“Newer construction,” Sean said. “McMansion types.”
Oh. Why didn’t that surprise me?
Chief Fox looked at me. “How about it, Agent Fury? Sick of me yet?”
“I’m not, Chief,” Sean said quickly.
“I need you on patrol,” Chief Fox said. “To be honest, I was surprised to find you here now.”
“This isn’t Des Moines,” Sean said. “Chipping Cheddar is a small town.”
“A small town with murders and drunk drivers, apparently,” Chief Fox replied. “Best get out there, Deputy.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, and glowered at me for good measure before disappearing.
“I guess both of us are flying blind here,” Chief Fox said.
“Abertam Road didn’t exist when I lived here before,” I said. “The development is probably on the land that was the old Coverdale farm.” The Wentworths and the Coverdales had once owned two of the largest dairy farms in town. My family now owned the Wentworths’ land, but the Coverdale land had been tied up in litigation for years when I was a kid. Not anymore, I guess.
We drove to the outskirts of town and I was amazed to see the size of the houses on what was once acres of farmland.
Lawrence Whitaker’s house was the grandest of them all. It was situated at the end of the road, set back so far that we had to drive down a tree-lined lane to reach the semi-circular driveway. I knew there were wealthy people in Chipping Cheddar, but I didn’t often rub elbows with them. My family had always been suspicious of people with ‘too much’ money. I wasn’t sure what qualified as ‘too much’ in their view, but I suspected that Lawrence Whitaker fit the bill.
“Nice little shack,” Chief Fox remarked. He parked the car right in middle of the semi-circular driveway.
“Do you think he has a butler?”
“We’ll find out when we ring the bell.”
Lawrence did not have a butler. He did, however, have a wife and two teenaged children. Their portraits were framed all over the walls of the entryway. His wife answered the door and let us in with a puzzled look.
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