Cloaks and Daggers

by Annabel Chase

  “She’s adorable,” Nancy said.

  “Thank you,” I said. “We’re working on the basics like eating and sleeping. No cartwheels yet.”

  Someone thumped a rattle on the table. “Looks like we have a new member to welcome.”

  I turned to see a flame-haired banshee at the head of a rectangular table. Her face showed no signs of sleep deprivation and her skin glowed as though she’d come straight from a facial at the spa.

  “I’m Siobhan and this is my daughter, Phoenix.” She inclined her head toward the stroller beside her where a sleeping infant cuddled a toy dragon.

  “Is she an actual phoenix?” I asked. I couldn’t see enough of the infant to tell.

  “No.” Siobhan scowled. “Her father is a kitsune.”

  I seemed to have insulted her, though I wasn’t sure why. It was heartening to meet so many mothers of hybrids.

  “I’m Emma Hart and this is my daughter, Diana.” I glanced down at her again and stroked her head. “My husband is Daniel Starr.”

  “We know that,” the proud mom said. “We were all at your wedding.”

  “Oh,” Nancy said, her eyed widening. “I knew you seemed familiar. I thought maybe we went to the market at the same time.”

  Henrik delivered my latte to the table and I paid him.

  “And what does he do?” Siobhan asked, still intent on me.

  I peered at her. “You mean what do I do?”

  “No, your husband,” Siobhan said.

  I ignored her. “I’m the town defense attorney and Daniel is the director of tourism.”

  “An attorney sounds like a lot of work,” Siobhan said. “I’ll bet you’re glad to be giving that up.”

  I started to feel uncomfortable. “What makes you think I’d be giving it up?”

  “You have a child,” Siobhan said. “She’s your job now.”

  “I can’t have more than one role in life?” I asked.

  “Siobhan, we’ve had this conversation before,” Nancy interjected, her annoyance evident. “This gig is hard enough without judging each other.”

  “I’m not judging,” Siobhan said. “I’m merely trying to get to know our new member.”

  “By asking about her husband and questioning her life choices?” Nancy asked. “I think not.”

  “Husbands are perfectly capable of being full-time parents,” the dwarf chimed in.

  “Not my husband,” Siobhan said. “The only bottle he knows is full of ale.”

  “Sounds like a personal problem,” Nancy whispered.

  Phoenix’s eyes popped open and the baby immediately began to scream bloody murder. Siobhan nearly knocked over her coffee mug in an effort to get to the baby quickly and calm her.

  “Tantrum time,” Nancy whispered. “Happens every week.”

  Phoenix let loose a blood-curdling shriek that throttled my core. Siobhan scooped her out of the stroller and held her upright. “There’s my little banshee. Listen to those healthy lungs.”

  I softened at the sight of Siobhan soothing her child. It was a universal trait across all species—the desire to care for the those we loved. No matter how annoying Siobhan proved to be, I already knew we had that much in common. We didn’t need to be best friends—those slots in my life were already taken anyway—but we could still support each other.

  “How about we introduce ourselves to Emma and Diana?” Nancy said, deftly diverting attention from Siobhan and her crying daughter.

  “I’m Kasey and this is my son, Howie,” said a nymph in the far corner.

  “Who names a child Howie in this day and age?” Molly’s mom said with a laugh.

  “Howie’s my father’s name,” Kasey said. Her mouth formed a thin line. “He wanted a son, but he got me. I figured a grandson named Howie was the next best thing. Sadly, he’s no longer with us though.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “When did he die?”

  “Oh, he’s not dead,” Kasey said. “He moved to Arizona after the curse was broken. He’d always wanted to see the desert and he liked it so much that he decided to stay. He keeps pestering us to get the internet so we can do video chats.”

  “I want to attend the next town council meeting to ask about that,” Nancy said. “I know there’s a divide as to how advanced we should be if we want to retain our historic charm.”

  “Well, I want to surf the web or whatever it is they do in other places,” Kasey said. “The internet sounds magical.”

  “It has its pros and cons,” I said. I didn’t want to get into a serious discussion about the ramifications of the internet right now. This whole new mom group was supposed to be a fun bonding experience.

  “I’m Karyn and this is my amazing achievement, Molly.” The mother of the hairy, cartwheeling baby was a werewolf, which probably explained the baby’s excess fluff.

  “You must know Alex,” I said.

  Karyn’s proud smile faded. “Yes, I know Alex.”

  Her reaction surprised me. As far as I knew, the werewolf beta was highly regarded by the pack. “Don’t he and Darcy make a great couple? I’m so happy for them.”

  “Darcy is a harpy,” Karyn said simply.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I said with a laugh, but quickly realized that, to Karyn, it was. She was one of the werewolves that wanted him to date within the pack. It wasn’t an unusual sentiment among werewolves. Still, I wished they’d be happy that Alex found someone to love after the loss of his fiancée.

  “Darcy is my neighbor and she’s wonderful,” I said. “She can organize a fundraiser like nobody’s business.”

  “We have members of the pack that can do that,” Karyn sniffed. She smoothed her baby’s mound of hair. “Tell us more about Diana. Which percentile is she in?”

  “You mean like height and weight?” I asked. I racked my brain. I seemed to recall a chart, but I’d been too tired to pay attention to the numbers during our last visit.

  “You do remember, don’t you?” Karyn asked. “These stats are very important.”

  “Of course I remember.” I laughed weakly, as though I could never forget a number associated with my child. “She’s in the average percentiles for both.” I had no idea if that was true, but it seemed like a safe assumption.

  “Average,” Karyn said smugly. “Yes, I see that.”

  “Emma, perfect timing.”

  I swiveled to see Sheriff Astrid standing behind me with a cup of coffee. “Hi, I’m meeting with my new moms group.”

  Sheriff Astrid surveyed the cluster of babies. “I figured it was too much of a coincidence that you all showed up at the same time.”

  “Everyone, this is Sheriff Astrid,” I said.

  The Valkyrie gave a polite wave.

  “Your sister gave me a parking ticket last week,” Karyn complained. “I was only illegally parked for twenty minutes. I tried to talk sense into her, but she wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  “Why were you illegally parked for twenty minutes?” the sheriff asked.

  “For a very good reason! I bought a new exercise bike to help facilitate my post-baby body and they took forever to load it into my jalopy.” Karyn punctuated her complaint with a roll of her eyes. “I basically stood over them and lectured the whole time, but that didn’t seem to make them move any faster.”

  “No,” Sheriff Astrid said, trying to hide her smirk. “I suppose it didn’t.”

  I swiveled to face the sheriff. “Any news on the case?”

  “That’s why I said perfect timing. Turns out the cause of death wasn’t the stab wounds. Can you believe it?”

  I balked. “Wait, what?”

  “Stab wounds?” Siobhan repeated. She covered her baby’s ears. “I’m sorry. Could we mind our words in the presence of the children?”

  The sheriff squinted. “Can they understand the word ‘stab’ at this age?”

  Karyn gasped and covered Molly’s ears. “I can’t speak for the other children, but Molly is advanced.”

 
; Sheriff Astrid leaned forward and frowned. “I’d say she’s advanced in more than just her vocabulary. You could braid her hair, and I’m not talking about her head.”

  Karyn pursed her lips and held her baby protectively.

  The sheriff returned her attention to me. “Anyway, the victim was bludgeoned to death, then stabbed.”

  The moms recoiled in horror.

  “In Spellbound?” Nancy asked. “What’s the world coming to?”

  “Crime has always been present in Spellbound,” the Valkyrie said. “Sheriff Hugo handled plenty of offenses during his tenure.”

  And ignored plenty too. I wondered how that would play into the reexamination of old Spellbound cases.

  “So, the killer bludgeoned Andrea first and then stabbed her for good measure?” I asked. “Did they think she was liable to rise again?”

  “Are we talking about vampires?” Siobhan asked.

  “That’s what it looks like,” the sheriff said, ignoring her. “Someone was either incredibly angry or very intent on making sure she was dead.”

  “It could be a zombie,” Karyn said, picking up Siobhan’s thread. “If something managed to rise after being hit and stabbed, I bet it’s a zombie.”

  “My money’s on necromancy,” Nancy said.

  The sheriff bristled. “Nothing was rising after death.”

  Nancy raised her hand. “I sort of do each morning, at least since Trevor was born. I feel like I’ve been dead and buried and then dug up again to do it all over the next day.”

  “Yes!” another mom concurred, although I couldn’t see which one.

  I kept my focus on the sheriff. “Any idea what the killer used to hit her with?”

  “Based on the marks on the side of her head, something hard but somewhat small,” the sheriff said. “Would you mind if I come back to your house and take another look around?”

  Siobhan froze. “Your house? This violent act happened at your house?”

  “She won’t be hosting the group anytime soon,” Karyn grumbled. “I’m not bringing my sweet Molly into a murder house. She could be inhabited by a dark spirit.”

  “That happened to my great-aunt,” Siobhan said. “She was never the same. She started wearing her hair down and using vulgar language. It was scandalous.”

  “Whatever you need, Sheriff.” I looked at the other mothers. “I’m so sorry, but I need to cut out a little early.”

  Nancy scooted her chair away from me like I had cooties. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” the troll said unconvincingly. “Maybe we’ll see you next week.”

  “If you need any help getting blood stains out of the carpet, I know a great cleaner,” Kasey said. She seemed to realize how that sounded. “Not that I have any experience with that. At all.” She took a renewed interest in her baby.

  I lifted my tote bag over my shoulder and rose to my feet. “See you next time. Thanks for having me.” I kept the smile plastered across my face until Astrid, Diana and I were safely out of the coffee shop.

  “What’s the big deal?” Sheriff Astrid blurted. “Those women have babies. It’s not like they’re strangers to bodily fluids.”

  “I guess it’s not generally the result of violence though.”

  “Good thing,” Astrid said. “Did you see the muscles on the troll’s arms?” She whistled.

  I couldn’t help but think of the slight size of Nancy’s elf husband. “If she took even one swing at him, you’d be investigating another murder right now.”

  “Then I should be grateful that they get along,” Sheriff Astrid said. “Because one murder is all I can handle right now.”

  Chapter Eight

  I placed Diana in her crib and flicked the mobile to turn. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Magpie’s silhouette in the corner.

  “You’re on the alert, huh?” I asked.

  The hellbeast maintained a solemn expression.

  “One small request,” I said. “If you decide to spew fire at any intruders, avoid the baby.”

  Magpie hissed.

  “Yes, I realize you’re not stupid, but we don’t know what might happen in the heat of the moment.” I saluted him. “Thank you for your vigilance. Daniel and I appreciate it.” I left the nursery and went downstairs to assist Sheriff Astrid. The Valkyrie was in the kitchen opening and closing the drawers and doors.

  “Do you really think the killer would have left the murder weapon behind?” I asked.

  “You found her first thing in the morning,” the sheriff said. “No one had a chance to get rid of the evidence unless they snuck out in the middle of the night and came back or hid it in their bags.”

  “Which you and Britta and searched before anyone left.”

  Her hands rested on her hips. “My gut says the weapon is here.”

  “Any ideas on what leaves a mark like the one they found on her head?” I asked.

  “Something about an inch around,” she said.

  “Like the base of a screwdriver?”

  She lit up. “Could be, although I would think the killer would’ve opted to use the pointy end.”

  “What if they did? What if they bludgeoned with one end and stabbed with the other?” Who knew a screwdriver could be so multifunctional?

  “As gruesome as it sounds,” the sheriff said, “I think it’s plausible. Do you have a toolkit?”

  I shrugged helplessly. “Somewhere. Maybe.” I wasn’t very handy and Daniel wasn’t much better. “I tend to rely on magic for mundane jobs.”

  The Valkyrie snorted. “Magic users. Always with the shortcuts.”

  “To be fair, I don’t think a stranger in the house would have found my toolkit if I don’t even know where it is.”

  Seemingly from nowhere, Sedgwick flew onto the island with the toolkit handle clutched in his beak. He dropped the kit in front of us and spread his wings--the owl equivalent of a mic drop.

  You’re welcome, he said.

  “Where did you find it?” I asked.

  In the pantry on the floor, the owl replied.

  Sheriff Astrid peered at the layer of dust on the top. “I’m going to take a wild guess that nobody’s cracked this bad boy open recently, not even an opportunistic murderer.”

  Gareth materialized in the foyer, his translucent body stiff with agitation. “When are the cleaners due to return?”

  “Excuse me,” I said. “Can’t you see I’m busy with the sheriff?”

  He clenched his fists like a toddler verging on a meltdown. “The television crew made a complete mess of this house.”

  “I think a dead body made a complete mess of this house,” I said.

  “Have you even seen the dining room?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes for a brief moment to calm my nerves. “What’s the problem, Gareth? I did a cleaning spell and a cleansing spell.”

  “And this is why you should leave such things to a professional. Come view the horrors for yourself.” He floated toward the dining room and I knew I had no choice but to follow. The vampire ghost was like a dog with a bone when it came to complaints. Come to think of it, maybe he should take Diana to the next new mom meetup.

  “He hasn’t changed, has he?” Sheriff Astrid asked, close behind me.

  “You think because he’s dead undead that he’ll be less anal?” I asked incredulously. “He has nothing to do except strengthen his critical eye.”

  We entered the dining room and he jabbed a finger at the mantel. “Look at those candlesticks.”

  I folded my arms. “Yes, I see them.”

  He threw out his arms in exasperation. “I always make certain to keep them exactly two and a half inches from the edge on either side.”

  “And?” I prompted.

  “The one on the right is fine, but the one on the left is about to teeter off, not that I would care if it fell and broke, mind you. The thing is hideous.”

  “The candlesticks were a wedding gift,” I said.

  “That doesn’t make them any less hideous
.”

  Sheriff Astrid cocked her head. “Hey, that candlestick looks about the right size.” She clapped me on the back. “Good job, Emma.”

  “Tell her to look at the one on the left,” Gareth said.

  I sighed. “Check the one on the left. It’s apparently been moved and the culprit should go straight to hell.”

  Gareth seemed appeased. “I concur.”

  The sheriff pulled a glove from her pocket and lifted the candlestick to inspect it. “Looks like there’s dried blood on it.”

  I balked. “No! My good candlestick? It’s bad enough someone was murdered in our home, but they used my own decor to do it?”

  “Your decor kills me every day,” Gareth said. “Slowly.”

  I glared at him. “You’re already dead.”

  The sheriff clutched the candlestick. “If we could only find the other weapon, we’d be set.”

  “But this one is the actual murder weapon, right?” I asked.

  “I think so,” she said. “Still, having the weapon used to stab her might yield clues too. There has to be a reason the killer abandoned the candlestick and went for the stabbing.”

  I eyed the candlestick. “Probably because they were worried they didn’t do the job. It’s not the heaviest item in the room.”

  Sheriff Astrid surveyed the room. “No, but it was the easiest to wield as a weapon.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Even a chair would’ve been more effective.” Okay, that wasn’t strictly true since the candlestick had actually been the thing that killed her. The stabbing was like the icing on the murder cake. I cringed. Murder cake. Now there was one baked good I had no interest in eating.

  “We need something pointy and sharp,” the sheriff said.

  “I’ve got that covered,” Gareth said. He flicked his fangs.

  I shook my head at him. “Got it, Astrid. I’ll keep looking for stabby weapons.” I gave Gareth a pointed look. “I might enlist some assistance.”

  The sheriff crossed the dining room and returned to the doorway. “I’ll take this candlestick back to the office so we can analyze it for evidence. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “Thanks,” I said. Hopefully there’d be evidence linking the killer so that the rest of the Home Invaders crew could return to their actual homes. It had to be rough on them to be far away from home while trying to come to terms with Andrea’s death.