by Zoe Arden
My father wasn't a killer. There was no way. Yet, as he stood over Brendan's body, it wasn't so hard to believe. Especially knowing that he'd killed before.
"Of course I didn't kill him," my father said, reading my mind. There was something in his eyes, though, that worried me.
"Then what are you doing here?" I demanded. "And where's my wand?"
He took a step toward me. I took a step back.
"I don't know where your wand is. You don't really think I did this? Do you?"
"I... I don't know what to think," I told him.
"Ava—"
Sheriff Knoxx burst into the room. His large frame jumped gleefully between me and my father.
"Aha!" Knoxx cried. "I've finally got you!" He was smiling triumphantly at me as he removed the handcuffs from his belt. How had he gotten here so quickly? How did he even know that Brendan was dead?
"No!" I cried, stepping away from him. "It wasn't me! I didn't kill Brendan!" But he wasn't listening. In his mind, he'd caught me red-handed.
"Wait! Sheriff Knoxx!" my father yelled, stepping forward.
The sheriff turned. It was as if he was realizing my father's presence in the room for the first time. He blinked, looking from my father to me and back again.
"Eli Fortune?" he asked.
"How are you, Zane?" my father asked. "The last time I saw you, you were still a deputy."
Sheriff Knoxx stiffened. "That was a long time ago, Eli."
I looked at the two of them, my mouth hanging open. It was hard to believe my father had this whole other life I'd never imagined. With people I'd never known existed until recently.
"What are you doing here?" Sheriff Knoxx asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I came for my daughter," he said, looking at me. He had a strange look on his face. Usually, we could almost read each other's thoughts. For the first time, I had no idea what my dad was thinking.
Sheriff Knoxx suddenly seemed to remember the situation at hand. He puffed his chest out and turned back to me.
"Well, your daughter is coming with me."
"But I didn't do anything," I pleaded.
The front door slammed open. Detective Colt Hudson stomped into the room. I wondered if lawmen took classes on how to burst through a door. It seemed to me that Sheriff Knoxx and Detective Hudson both had that exercise down to a tee.
Detective Hudson took one look at the three of us standing there, the sheriff's cuffs dangling from his hand, and smiled.
"Looks like I got here just in time," Detective Hudson said.
"This is my case. I was first on the scene," Sheriff Knoxx yelled. I watched fascinated as the two men went into a stare down. It lasted several minutes, until Sheriff Knoxx turned his head.
"Ava Rose Fortune, you are under arrest for the murder of—" Sheriff Knoxx yelled.
"Ava Rose Fortune, you are under arrest for the murder of—" Detective Hudson yelled at the same time.
Are they competing to see who will be the first to arrest me?
"It was me!" my father yelled.
Everyone stopped talking at once. We all stared at him.
"What?" I asked, my throat dry as sandpaper.
"It was me. It was all me. I'm sorry, Ava," my father said.
"You?" Knoxx asked my dad.
"That's right. I came back to the island for Ava and... I just couldn't stomach all these humans."
"But why kill Brendan?" I asked. "He was a wizard."
My father stared hard at me, thinking. "I didn't like him."
"What?" I laughed, looking at Sheriff Knoxx. Surely even the sheriff must realize how ridiculous that sounded. My father was obviously covering for someone, but who?
Sheriff Knoxx moved toward my dad now. Detective Hudson pushed him aside. The sheriff fell into the counter while Detective Hudson made his arrest. "Eli Fortune, you are under arrest for the murders of Brendan Ash, David Buyers, and Campbell Price."
He cuffed my father and led him outside, where a crowd had already grown. News really did spread fast in this town. It was difficult walking past the townspeople. Lucy was there with Megan. Their eyes were red.
"Is it true?" Lucy asked, running up to me. "Is Brendan really..."
I nodded and broke away from her. "I'll see you later," I told her. "I have to go with my father."
No matter what he might have done, I couldn't let him go to the station alone. I didn't believe he was guilty of murder. I was certain there was someone else that he was trying to protect.
Eleanor and Trixie weren't outside Coffee Cove, and they weren't at the station when we arrived. I wondered if they'd heard the news yet. If not, I would call them from the station after my father gave his statement.
It was difficult listening to my father explain to Sheriff Knoxx and Detective Hudson that he had killed three men. "I just couldn't let them live," he said.
"Bullfrog!" I yelled, unable to contain myself.
The three men looked at me.
"No, Ava. It's not. I'm sorry." My father could barely look at me.
"What is she even doing here?" Detective Hudson spat. Literally. Saliva flew from his mouth and hit Sheriff Knoxx in the eye. The sheriff stood up and wiped himself with a paper towel.
"Ava," Sheriff Knoxx asked, ignoring Detective Hudson's question. He sounded much gentler than I was used to. "Would you like some water? I have some peanut butter dream bars. Your Aunt Eleanor made them. Would you care for one?"
Peanut butter bars? What was happening here? Why was the sheriff being so nice all of a sudden?
"This isn't a bakery!" Detective Hudson yelled. And I thought I understood. Either Sheriff Knoxx was being nice to me to egg Detective Hudson on, or he had finally realized what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a snide toad bottom.
"No. Thank you," I said.
Detective Hudson stood seething. As if the idea of offering me water and dream bars was a criminal act.
"All right, Eli. Let's go," Sheriff Knoxx said, rising from behind his desk.
"Where are you taking him?" I asked, panicking.
"To his cell."
"Can I go with? I mean... can I talk to him alone for a minute?" I was hoping that if we were alone, my father might tell me what was really going on.
"Absolutely not," Detective Hudson said.
"Of course," Sheriff Knoxx said. He looked at Detective Hudson, who was glowering at him. "My station, my rules."
Detective Hudson stomped off toward the water cooler, mumbling, "We'll see about that."
My father and I followed the sheriff down a long hallway. "I'll take you to a private interrogation room. You can have a few minutes alone. Just knock on the door when you're done."
"Thank you," I said, bewildered by the sheriff's sudden change in behavior.
When we were alone in the cold, tiny room, my father hugged me.
"Dad," I sobbed. "I'm sorry. It's my fault you're here. If I hadn't come to this island..."
"Sssh, Ava. It's okay."
When my tears subsided, we sat across from each other at a small table, holding hands.
"Ava, the important thing is for you to get off this island. Now. Before it's too late."
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "I'm not leaving you here."
"Ava, your mother's murderer... he came after you. When you were still a baby."
"What are you talking about?" I gasped.
"That's why I had to kill him. That's why I had to hide you away. I always knew one day his family would come for you again."
"His family?" I asked, thinking of Damon. "Do you mean Damon Tellinger? Is that who you think is behind this?"
My father sighed. "I honestly don't know. When I first saw Damon, yes, I thought he was Jon's son. His entire family had eyes like that. That sapphire blue. But now..."
"Now?" I breathed.
"I just don't know. I may have overreacted. It's been a long time since I've been to Sweetland."
We sat in silence a moment, both
of us thinking.
"Why try to kill me?" I asked. My heriotza necklace pinged. I absently rose my hand to my neck and stroked the pendant through my shirt.
"Jon was afraid you'd grow up to be as powerful as she was."
"I'm not powerful. I don't even know how to cast a simple trace charm."
"Yes, Ava. You are. Very powerful. And I will do anything to protect you."
A chill ran up my spine.
"I know you didn't kill those people, Dad... Did you?"
"Ava..." He sighed but didn't answer my question.
"You're covering for someone, right? Aren't you? Who is it? Just tell me. Let me help you."
He remained silent.
"What happened tonight? I blacked out and the next thing I knew you're there and Brendan is dead."
My father cleared his throat. "I was outside the coffee shop when I saw something and went in to investigate."
"That's pretty vague," I said. "What did you see?"
He was staring at the table. "You..."
"Me...?" I prompted.
"Holding your wand."
"And?"
"And then everything went black. I ran into the shop and found you on the ground and Brendan dead. And your wand was gone."
"You didn't see who the killer was?" I asked.
He licked his lips. "All I saw was you and Brendan," he finally said.
"But that doesn't make any sense," I said. "You're obviously protecting someone. If it was just me and Brendan there, then who killed him? Brendan didn't kill himself!"
My father looked at me with watery eyes, and I finally realized who he was covering for.
"Oh, my roses," I said. "It's me. You think I did it. You think I killed Brendan."
* * *
2 3
* * *
The next morning I sat on the couch in my aunts' house, my head in my hands. I hadn't slept a wink. The sun was just coming up. Eleanor and Trixie said they'd already been awake when they heard me puttering around the house, but the way they were yawning gave me cause for doubt.
"Is it possible?" I asked them. "Do you really think I did it?"
Eleanor and Trixie exchanged a look. "Of course not," they said together.
Tootsie jumped into my lap, where Snowball was already laying. Snowball took up so little space, however, that Toots had no problems fitting in next to him. They snuggled together, purring loudly.
"I wouldn't blame you if you did," I told them.
"We don't!" Eleanor cried.
I laughed. "For a while, I was a little uncertain about the two of you," I admitted. I looked sheepishly at them as their eyes popped open. Time for a little honesty, I decided.
"What do you mean?" Trixie asked.
"I thought you two were storing boxie quill in the bakery. That somehow you were responsible for Campbell's death.
"You what?" Eleanor shrieked.
"Boxie quill?" Trixie laughed. "What would we be doing with that?" She turned toward a window and started wiping at an invisible spot.
Snowball's head popped up. She opened her sleepy eyes. "Snowball found boxie quill at the bakery. It is dangerous. There was much of it. Mama must be careful. Snowball will always protect Mama."
I scratched Snowball's head. "Snowball did good, but I think what you found was moxie satin. It looks almost exactly like boxie quill."
Snowy opened one eye but left her head settled in my lap.
"Snowball knows the difference. Boxie is bad. Moxie is yummy. The seeds are sweet. I have eaten many." She yawned, and I got a whiff of her tuna breath.
I looked at my aunts. "Is Snowball right?" I asked. "Do you have boxie quill at the bakery?"
They exchanged another look. I could tell that Trixie was waiting for Eleanor to take the lead on this.
"Ava, your aunt Trixie and I thought... you see your mother was such a powerful witch—"
"A good witch," Trixie interrupted.
"That we thought maybe—"
"Once you got used to using magic—"
"You might want to try it."
"Try what?" I asked, perplexed.
"Creating boxie quill extract," Eleanor said.
My heart skipped a beat.
"You are hiding boxie!"
"Not hiding," Eleanor said. "It's not illegal. We just store it in a safe place."
"You want me to use dark magic?" I screeched, jumping in my seat. Snowball and Tootsie hopped out of my lap and ran off together.
"No! Of course not!" Eleanor cried.
"It isn't dark magic, Ava," Trixie said. "It only has that reputation because most witches and wizards can't work with it. They want its power but they die trying to get it."
"And for those who live," Eleanor added, "the extracts almost never work how they wanted them to."
"It's a tricky situation," Trixie said.
"Only your mother wasn't like most witches and wizards," Eleanor continued. "She could handle boxie better than anyone. Use the extracts she created for good. No one knew how she did it. I'm not even sure if she knew."
"I asked her once," Trixie volunteered. "She said it was a feeling that rose up inside her when she was casting. She couldn't explain it."
I stared at them dumbfounded. "I read in Magical Herbs and Plants that only five witches in existence have ever been known to work successfully with boxie. You're telling me that my mother was one of those five?"
Eleanor and Trixie nodded.
"What about the other four?" I asked.
"They haven't been around for a long time. The last witch who could work with boxie was a couple hundred years ago—Tilda Gilmore. And before that, there was Sara Sweetland."
"Sara Sweetland?" I asked. "You mean the founder of Sweetland Cove?"
"Well, she wasn't exactly its founder. It was after her death, when her family and her husband's family divided up, that Sweetland Cove was founded. In honor of her, I suppose you could say."
"And she worked with boxie quill?"
"According to the rumors. Yes."
I thought it was cool that my mom was one of only five witches ever to work with boxie quill, but that left me with some really big shoes to fill. I didn't think I could fill them.
"I don't know if I'll ever be as good an extractor as my mother," I said.
"You don't have to be," Eleanor said quickly. "Trixie and I would love you even if you were a dim-witch."
"I just don't know what to think. I still don't." The boxie mystery had been solved, but there was still something weighing on my mind. "Where did you disappear to after Campbell's death?"
Eleanor and Trixie both grew pale. They held each other's gaze a long moment.
"Just tell me," I shouted, louder than I meant to. I was tired of all these secrets.
"Oh, fine," Trixie said. "We went to check the chocolate walnut cookies."
Eleanor's face turned bright pink.
"You what?" I asked. "You mean... the cookies I made?"
"Yes," Trixie said. "Campbell had been eating them all night. We thought..."
"Oh, my roses. You thought I killed him."
"Just accidentally," Eleanor said.
Trixie nodded furiously. "Yes. Never on purpose. And anyway, we ruled it out. The cookies were fine. Absolutely nothing wrong with them."
"Ohhh," I moaned. My head was pounding now. My father thought I was guilty. My aunts thought I was guilty. Maybe they were all right. Maybe I really was guilty.
"Here," Eleanor said, going to a small box on the fireplace mantle. She opened it and removed a key. "It's to the bakery," she told me. "Trixie and I had one made for you. So you can come and go as you please."
"Thanks," I said, touched that they would trust me with it. I took the key from her.
"We had it made last week," Trixie said. "We just haven't had a chance to give it to you yet." Eleanor threw her a look.
Last week?
They'd had this key for an entire week and hadn't given it to me until now? Clearly, they
still had their doubts about me.
"Ava," Eleanor said. "Perhaps you should go see Dr. Dunne again. About your blackouts."
"Good idea," I said, rising from the couch.
"Oh, you're going now?" Eleanor asked.
"No time like the present."
"What?" Trixie asked, scrunching her face.
"It's a human expression," I told her. "I'll be back later."
I left the house. My aunts watched me go with an uncertain expression that bothered me. I think it bothered me more because I was just as uncertain as they were.
I stopped by the bakery. After Brendan's death and my father's arrest, my aunts had decided to keep it closed for a while. A sign on the door read, CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
I took out my new key and unlocked the door. The sweet smell of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air. My aunts had cast a freshening charm over the entire bakery, to make sure nothing would go stale while they were closed. I grabbed the best looking cake we still had on the shelf. I'd promised myself I'd thank Polly for the heriotza necklace she'd given me. I felt like it was the only thing keeping me safe right now.
I left the bakery and walked right past the hospital, never even glancing at it. Dr. Dunne was great, but he couldn't help me.
I needed someone who could see things X-rays wouldn't show. Polly's mom had tried to warn me once. She'd told me to leave the island, and I hadn't listened. This time, I would do whatever she said.
* * *
2 4
* * *
"You want something," Polly said when I handed her my cake.
Slater was standing nearby. They'd been leaning against each other, holding hands and discussing something in hushed tones when I came in. Polly's face had gone slightly red.
"Er, just to thank you," I said. "Butterscotch praline perfection cake."
Polly smiled. "Well, who wouldn't want to be a little more perfect?
I still think you want something, though."
Maybe it was the pixie in her. I'd read somewhere that pixies were all a little psychic.
"It's not the necklace, is it?" Polly asked, tensing.
"No,” I said, "the necklace is great. It's just, well... I was hoping I could talk to your mom."
Polly smiled slyly. "I get it. You've got questions. You need answers. That's usually why people come by to see my mom. Hang on a minute."
