by Nova Nelson
Focus, Nora! Come on!
“What was your assessment, then?”
“She mentioned that she’d been dizzy for almost a week. Coupled with the headache, and the slight tremors—”
“The what?”
“Her hands,” said Kayleigh. “It’s possible she didn’t even realize they were shaking, but they were. It looked like some sort of toxic shock to me. When I heard she’d died that night of silver poisoning, there was no doubt in my mind that had been the cause of her earlier symptoms. Low levels, perhaps, but she definitely had silver in her before she came. And why would she come to treat her symptoms if she planned on killing herself later that night?” She shook her head sharply. “No, doesn’t make any sense.”
“Do you sell silver here?” I asked to cover my bases.
“Nooo,” she said adamantly, her blue eyes opening wide. “There’s too much liability. And I’m glad I made the decision. I’d have the attorneys swarming the place right now if I stocked it. Besides, there are so few spells that one uses silver for that aren’t meant maliciously. And all but of a few of those can use a replacement like moonbeams or crocodile tears.”
I sighed. Another dead end.
I’d figured it would be, but I had to check anyway.
“Thanks,” I said, “for the stuff about the necromancy and the bit about Heather.”
“My pleasure. Like I said, I was just so glad to finally meet you after all I’ve heard.” She smiled, and it was impossible to dislike her, even if she was—and maybe I’d talked myself into it a little bit—one hundred percent dating Tanner.
I turned to leave, then remembered. “Oh, um …” I looked around, not sure where to start.
“Yes?” she said.
“So, keeping in mind that I possess zero knowledge about general witchcraft, do you have anything simple that might be effective at warding off canine flatulence?”
Her eyes flickered to Grim where he dozed, and she grinned. “Yeah. It’s ready-made, too. We have a section dedicated to familiar care products. Follow me.”
Once I’d wrapped up the transaction and promised to come back when I had more time to learn about potions, she waved goodbye and I nudged Grim awake with my foot.
He woke up, looked around and spotted Kayleigh behind the front desk.
“Whoa,” he said, smacking his lips as he came to. “That’s weird.”
“What?”
He jabbed his paw toward the pixie. “Do you not see it?”
“See what?”
“If she were a few years younger and dressed in a white shirt instead of that ratty tank top and skirt, the wings would be the only way I could tell the two of you apart.”
I jerked my head around to get a good look at her.
Oh no.
That was why I felt like I recognized her. The pixie who Tanner most likely had a crush on and who probably tutored him and who definitely hadn’t just agreed to co-own a business with him and thereby demolish any chance of romance looked just like me.
I had half a mind to stop by Sheehan’s Pub on the way to our next stop, and would have, if I weren’t worried about running into Tanner there. Now would be a bad time for that.
“For fang’s sake,” I muttered so only Grim could hear me.
“Do you think Tanner has a crush on her, too? Ooo! Or maybe he only had a crush on you because you reminded him of her?”
“I swear, Grim, if you don’t knock it off, I will make you an appointment at the day spa, facial and all.”
“Over my dead body.” Then he seemed to realize what he’d said and added, “Over my deader body.”
“Fine. I got you a treat in there.” I reached into the small burlap sack and pulled out one of the chews Kayleigh had suggested.
Surprisingly, he didn’t ask further questions and inhaled it when I tossed it his way. Man, dogs were way too trusting.
But hey, why not use it to my advantage? “Want another?”
“Sure, why not? It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.” But I spied a growing string of drool at the corner of his jowls. He couldn’t fool me with his casual tone.
Let’s hope these things work, I thought, and then I tossed him a few more.
Grim was content and silent after that, but my brain ran restless circles as we made our way to the rich side of town.
Chapter Nine
Not expecting to find answers at Atlantis Day Spa, I went anyway. To cover all my leads. And maybe to sneak in a little pampering.
Since Ruby wouldn’t let me pay rent, only accepting payment to cover the cost of my food and tea, and I made good tips and hourly wages at Medium Rare, I had the money to burn. I might as well use a little of it on myself. I hadn’t done anything resembling self-pampering since I got a wash and style at Echo’s Salon my first week in Eastwind. And the whole living-life-tightly-wound thing? Yeah, been there, done that. And I was falling into the pattern again in Eastwind. Why? I had money, a place to stay, a job that I enjoyed. What was still compelling me to work all the time?
The million-dollar question, right there. Maybe one day I’d figure it out.
Either way, deep down I knew that I had to find a way to decompress or I’d get in the vicious cycle of workaholism again, letting all other aspects of my life—for instance, the ones that make life worth living—fade into the background until they shriveled up like all the house plants I’d ever owned (I had quite the black thumb).
If my best options for unwinding were a spa or a pub, the spa seemed like the healthy and responsible choice, right?
Grim would just have to deal with it.
I didn’t have time for a visit right then, but I could at least schedule something for when I did have time. It was a step in the right direction, anyway.
Atlantis Day Spa was a block and a half past Echo’s Salon, away from Fulcrum Park. All the stores in this small section were for the wealthiest of Eastwind, maybe even those with Avalon money. A jeweler was just across the street from the spa, and next to that was Ezra’s Magical Outfitters where various models of brooms hovered in midair just behind the picture windows of the storefront. Two thin female witches in heels that tempted fate when mixed with cobblestones pointed and gabbed quickly and emphatically about which models they intended to buy next and which ones were cheap knock-offs. I doubted anything in this neighborhood was a knock-off, though.
We arrived at the spa at a little past three to find it lacked a proper front door. Instead, the way in was veiled by what looked to be a waterfall, cascading down from the top of the doorframe and disappearing into the bottom of it.
I wasn’t sure what to do, how to tackle it. Did people have to get drenched to walk inside? That seemed weird and the opposite of relaxation. But then a tall, lanky blonde woman emerged from behind the waterfall. She grinned serenely and appeared completely dry as she practically glided down the hill toward the center of town.
Okay, that was cool. Really, really cool.
I had to try it for myself.
“You coming in?” I asked Grim.
“Not a chance.” He settled himself in the shade of the building.
That was as I’d figured. A spa visit was one hundred percent not his thing, and I knew asking him to walk under a magic waterfall was just a bridge too far. He could stay outside in the heat if he wanted. Not my problem.
Closing my eyes out of reflex, I stepped underneath the waterfall entrance and felt not water but relaxation wash over me. My muscles felt like a sigh, and the tension in my shoulders from carrying heavy trays began to melt.
When I opened my eyes again, I was inside the spa, lit by dim floating orbs that slightly resembled Chinese lanterns. Had I just walked into a cave … in heaven? Holy smokes.
The marble ceiling was swirls of deep blues and greens, and dipped and receded unevenly like the top of a cavern worn down by years of groundwater flowing through. From the outside of the building, I never would have guessed how far back this room extended. In fa
ct, there was an obvious logical mismatch between the exterior and the interior, a physical impossibility. The anterior had a sitting area, and a reception desk made of dense but smooth gray stone created a spatial barrier from the rest of the cavern that extended back, back, back. The light from the orbs reflected off a clear pool behind the reception desk, causing wobbly light beams to dance along the ceilings and smooth rock walls. The soft sound of trickling water soothed my nerves further, until I felt like there might be a drowning hazard if I got into the water myself.
I peeked past the reception desk. The floor stretched away from me and then dipped, fading into a pool where a woman in a one-piece bathing suit was floating on her back, kicking her feet lethargically, and a male faun leaned against one of the edges, his arms draped along the sides, his head leaning back against a rock. Was he asleep? Should someone wake him?
A nasally voice on my left startled me. “Oh, hello,” he said. “Welcome to Atlantis. How can I help you today?” He was tall and slender, wearing a loose-fitting white top and pants that reminded me of high-fashion scrubs. White-blond hair streamed down around his face, flowing all the way down to his waist as the tips of pointed ears peeked out beneath the straight curtains.
I’d seen a few elves around Eastwind, but mostly they kept to themselves and didn’t travel far out of the more chic neighborhoods, like this one. Hyacinth Bouquet was the only one I’d seen in Medium Rare, and I suspected the reason she was willing to venture that far into the outskirts was that she had a werebear husband to keep her safe.
Since this was an elf I was dealing with, I went ahead and prepared myself for the aloofness and occasional condescension that they dealt in.
“My friend recommended this place to me, and I wanted to swing by and make an appointment for a massage. Except I can’t remember who my friend recommended I see.”
He glided over to the desk and opened a heavy ledger with a muffled thump. “Does your only friend have a name?”
“She’s not my only—” I bit back the argument. Who cared if this pretentious elf thought I had only one friend? “Heather Lovelace.”
“Ah.” His eyes shamelessly roamed over me from head to foot and back, no doubt wondering what someone who dressed like I did (and probably still smelled of grease) would be doing running around with a Lovelace. He shut the book without inspecting it any further. “You’ll be looking for Frankie then.”
“Great. Would you let him know I’m—” I didn’t get to finish before Mr. Customer Service glided off underneath a small waterfall and disappeared into some back section of the spa.
I looked around the small sitting area. The floor was covered in a spongy green moss, presumably to keep people from slipping and falling and … suing? Was that a thing that happened here? Slip-and-fall lawsuits? Were there consumer protections like that in Eastwind? There must be, or else everyone would be dying left and right, and not from murder but from accidents.
Now that I thought about it, I almost never heard of an accidental death in Eastwind. Intentional deaths, oh yeah, but not many accidental ones outside of the occasional spell-gone-wrong.
Admittedly, there were a lot of deaths in this town. I’d only been here four months and I needed two hands to count just the ones I’d heard about. Eastwind wasn’t a huge town, perhaps a few thousand people, so that death rate seemed awfully high.
When a woman emerged from the same waterfall through which her lovely coworker had disappeared a few moments before, quite a few pieces came together all at once.
First, Frankie wasn’t a man.
Second, Frankie was short for Francesca.
But most importantly, the person who Heather visited regularly at the spa was none other than her sister-in-law, Heath’s wife—the other smiling face in the picture at Veronica’s house, who I hadn’t bothered to learn anything about, other than—I wracked my brain—she was a nix (whatever that was) and she came from good stock (whatever that meant).
“Hi, I’m Frankie,” she said, extending a hand gracefully toward me.
“Nice to meet you. Nora.” As we shook, I struggled to stay relaxed, even with so many environmental factors working toward it. Warning bells sounded in my brain, but I didn’t yet have a clue why. Other than intuition. Something was strange about this.
“You were a friend of Heather’s?” she asked softly, tilting her head slightly and staring at me through big turquoise eyes.
“Yes. Recent friend. I hardly got to know her before …” I let the words trail off, playing the part of grieving friend to see how Frankie reacted.
She did what anyone would do, though. Her head drooped and she stared at the floor. “So terrible. I miss her so much.”
“Were you two friends? Outside of the spa, I mean.”
Her gaze jumped up to meet mine. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry, I figured she would have mentioned it. I’m married to her brother. Her twin. They were very close, as you might expect.” She hugged her arms to her body. “I haven’t had the heart to tell him yet.”
“He doesn’t know?” I asked, faking surprise.
She shook her head.
“Oh, Frankie, I’m so sorry. You can’t take off work for a while?”
Tandy Erixon hadn’t missed a day of work after her boyfriend, Bruce Saxon, was murdered, and the reason turned out to be that she wasn’t especially sad over it; after all, she was the one who’d done it.
“I did,” said Frankie. “I took a few days off. I’ve only just come back today. I don’t usually work on Sundays, but others have been covering my shifts, so I thought I would come in to cover Onyx’s closing shift so he could enjoy a night off.”
Hmm … again, normal behavior. What was it that nagged at me about her?
“Did you come to talk about Heather?” she asked. “Aeldoran said you wanted to schedule an appointment.”
I tried not to scoff at the elf’s name, but it did make me feel better about his arrogance that he had such a stupid one. “Yes, I was wondering if you had any availability for a massage two or three days from now.”
“Let’s check,” she said, her soft voice maintaining its sadness. She walked over to the heavy ledger and opened it silently, scanning down the page with her finger.
I used the moment to gather my thoughts. Did Frankie have a motive?
Duh. That was obvious. With Heather out of the way, she and Heath were the beneficiaries of Veronica’s estate. Veronica had seemed certain that they didn’t need the money, but I’d met my fair share of wealthy people, and there was no finish line for greed. You can afford a boat? Now you want a yacht. You can afford a yacht? Now you want a private island.
No, someone having money wasn’t a reason for them to stop wanting more money. That wasn’t how it worked.
The next part to consider was opportunity, and as soon as I turned my attention toward that problem, I realized it was the one that had bothered me so much. Frankie had access to Heather on her final day, and we’d never considered it. Heather hadn’t even thought to mention it that it was her sister-in-law who worked at the spa she frequented. With the other possibilities ruled out, which I was fairly certain they were, this was the last hiding place for answers, in this beautiful, luxurious cave.
Means, though, left me stumped. Did they serve food here? Could Heather have been offered something to eat or drink that was chock full of silver?
“We have availability on Wednesday. Would morning, afternoon, or evening work better for you?”
“Huh?”
“Your schedule on Wednesday. What time works best for you?”
“Oh, evening. I work in the morning and early afternoon.”
“Perfect. I’ll write you in. What’s your last name, Nora?”
“Ashcroft.” I smiled, trying not to let my anxiety show. “Man, I’m starving,” I said.
She finished writing down my name, but didn’t react to my words.
So, I tried again, this time much less subtly. “I have a long walk back. Any cha
nce the spa offers, um, snacks or chocolates or something to tide me over so I don’t have to stop for food?”
After gently shutting the ledger again, she peered over the desk at me, her eyebrows slightly pinched. “I’m afraid not. There’s a patisserie two doors down that serves delicious pastries, though. You could just stop in and—”
“No, no, it’s fine.” I waved her off. “Maybe just a little something to drink?”
Now she looked at me as if she were sure I was crazy. “We just have some sparkleberry-infused water for customers. I’m afraid we don’t—”
“Oh! That would be great! Thanks so much, Frankie.”
“Um.” She bit her lip.
I’d made her uncomfortable, but she didn’t turn me down. Instead, she flashed a smile and said, “Okay, one moment,” before hurrying through the waterfall and into the back. When she returned a second later, I’d had enough time to realize how stupid this was. If the water was what had poisoned Heather, it wasn’t like Frankie wouldn’t cover her tracks. She wouldn’t always have lethal levels of silver in the drinking supply for customers.
She handed me the water in a small, clear glass that reminded me of a Christmas ornament with the top cut off, similar to the one Tandy had served me the citrus blast with in Echo’s Salon, and I tossed it back, searching for any hints of a metallic flavor.
But the only hints I got were delicious sparkleberry. “Oh dang, that’s awesome,” I said, staring down at the empty glass in disbelief.
Frankie grinned. “Yes, it’s a big hit. We always keep it on hand. We used to serve other infusions, but this one was an immediate favorite, so we ditched the others.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Oh, something like two years ago. Never looked back since.”
“I can see why. I’d drink it all myself if I were in your position.”
She nodded. “Yes, I did that once and Aeldoran wasn’t happy about having to make more before our second customer of the day had arrived. I stay away from it altogether, now.”
