Hexed Hit: An Urban Fantasy Mystery (The Lyon Fox Mysteries Book 4)

by Ann Denton

  “Start at the beginning. When you arrived at the nap shack, what did you see?”

  Lilypunt swipes at the sweat beading on his forehead. He takes a sip of coffee. “I dunno. It was dark.”

  “Not gonna buy that,” Flowers says.

  Lilypunt growls and gnashes his teeth. I’m a little surprised by that response. He seems like such a nerd. But I guess there is a bit of bear in him somewhere. He turns the growl into clearing his throat and apologizes.

  “So sorry about that. Tired.” He takes a long drink of coffee.

  I go for a soft smile and lean forward, hoping to put him at ease. “We really appreciate you coming in. We’re just trying to figure out what happened to that poor caretaker.” See how tactful that was? How I said caretaker, not drug dealer?

  “Louise? Something happened to Louise?” Lilypunt shifts in his seat, agitated. His fingers grab the edge of the table, then he retracts them. His eyes flicker between Flowers and me. “What happened to her? Is she okay?”

  I can’t quite figure this guy out. He was just growling and now he’s acting scared as shit. I’m glad I’m not dealing with him alone because he seems unbalanced.

  I give him a pitying look, as if he’s just a victim. “What can you tell me about Louise?”

  Lilypunt shrugs, “She’s nice. Always has a smile … you know, when I’d see her at the grocery store or something,” Lilypunt backtracks, realizing he might have just made himself look like a regular. (Yeah, sorry buddy, your actions are already kinda doing that.)

  “Last time you saw her, she say anything?” Flowers asks.

  Lilypunt shakes his head. “She was arguing with some girl when I came in—about a bill or something.”

  I smile and nod to encourage him. (I’m semi-shocked he might have dropped useful information.) “What did this girl look like?”

  “Tall. Really tall.”

  “Hair color?”

  “Pink maybe? Orange? Like I said, it was dark.”

  “What’d she say?”

  Lilypunt shakes his head as he recalls, “She was really angry, saying stuff like Louise did that on purpose—Louise was yelling right back at her saying about what happened to the bill wasn’t her fault or something—”

  “What was on purpose?” I lean forward. It sounds like Lilypunt could have witnessed someone with a motive to kill Louise.

  “When women argue, I just get out of the way,” Lilypunt holds up his hands.

  I glance over at Flowers to see him nodding and I have to resist rolling my eyes.

  I change the subject. “Tell me more about this girl. Had you seen her around there before?”

  Lilypunt shrugs. “All those young kids look the same to me. Black clothes and chains and all that.”

  “Any defining features? Big nose? Tattoos?”

  Lilypunt rubs his face and sighs. He yawns and rests his head on his hand. His eyelids look heavy. “Don’t they all have tattoos?”

  “What were the tattoos of?” I ask.

  He shrugs and yawns again. “I just saw a couple letters on her neck, that’s all.”

  “What did it say?”

  “I don’t know. Just a couple letters. Her initials. E.W. or something.”

  “Think you could recognize her if you saw her again?”

  He shrugs.

  Great. Lizard bear apparently got the lizard brain. I rate his helpfulness as a negative four. Louise had scattered notes about money all over the place. A lot of people owed her. And whatever this kid owed her; it couldn’t be more than Lilypunt.

  I turn to Flowers who just continues to lean unhelpfully against the wall. I wonder if he knew how utterly useless this interview was going to be and if he’s just torturing me with it.

  He jerks his head toward the witness as if to say, ‘get on with it.’

  I turn back to Lilypunt to find him nodding off with his hand for a pillow.

  Flowers says, “Nearly hibernation season. Wake him up.”

  I swallow a sigh. Freaking bear shifters. “Sir. Sir!” I smack the table to wake him up. Lilypunt jumps. His knees smack the table, sending the cup of coffee tumbling to the floor as he leaps backwards and grabs onto the side wall. His hands shift into furry claws and he scurries up the cinderblock wall a few feet before he realizes that he’s not in danger.

  “Care to join me back at the table?” I ask patiently, though I really feel like calling out a psychoanimalist. This guy’s shifter side has way more control over his instincts than normal. I keep a fake smile on my face as I wait for Lilypunt to climb back down the wall, shift his hands back to normal, and sit. It takes him a few minutes.

  While I wait, I silently give myself a patience award, frame it, and set it on my imaginary desk. It’s got one of those gold embossed stickers on it and everything. Finally—it feels like two years later—I continue questioning the suspect, “Louise have any family?”

  “Um a son or something … she mighta’ mentioned him helping her out a few times. Guess there’s a hippo she knows that gets a little rough. Her son was the muscle for that, I think.”

  Flowers and I exchange a look. I don’t know if he ever sent someone after that hippo I lost yesternight. I didn’t hear about a rampage on the evening news. So, I hope we’re good. Hopefully this rough hippo is cooling his jets at home and not rampaging through the town.

  “Know anything else about her son?” I ask, since Flowers doesn’t seem too eager to jump into the conversation.

  “Never met him myself, but everyone there always said he was a bit of an ass.”

  “He get along with his mom?”

  Lilypunt shrugs. “Not sure. I think he works at a bookstore: Tall Tales, maybe?”

  Darn it all. I love Tall Tales. Hopefully, her son doesn’t work there. I don’t want to taint my memories of my favorite bookstore. “Anything else?”

  Lilypunt shakes his head. “Didn’t have too much time to talk to her ever. Just casual chats. Weekend. Weather. That kinda thing.”

  “Do you know the son’s name?” I ask.

  “Fred or Freddie or something?” Lilypunt runs a hand through his hair.

  I nod. “Great. Great.” Dammit all to hell. Why does the son have to have an ‘f’ name? I turn to Flowers.

  He stands up from where’s he’s slouched. He makes eye contact with Lilypunt as he asks, “How many times a week do you typically use Nappies?”

  Lilypunt pales. “What? I don’t. It’s was a one-time—”

  Flower’s glare makes Lilypunt rethink his lie.

  “Once in a great while,” he says. “That’s it. I swear.”

  “Who else do you know there? Anyone you regularly go with?”

  “No,” Lilypunt’s headshake gets a bit more frantic. “Nope. Solo thing.”

  “How did you pay for your Nappies?” I jump in.

  “I really, I swear. I don’t use that much! I don’t!” Lilypunt sweat gets worse. And then his eyes flash. His hands start to shake. I see scales and fur start to sprout along his neck.

  Crap. He’s avoiding the question and he’s about to meltdown. He looks like he’s on the edge of losing his temper and shifting in public.

  I turn to Flowers, who doesn’t seem at all bothered. In fact, Flowers swaggers forward.

  “Really? Don’t use much?” He slams something onto the table in front of me. “Then explain this receipt that was in your wallet! Explain why you just bought an entire case o- diapers!”

  “My girl’s pregnant,” the hiss in Lilypunt’s voice gets more pronounced. A lizard tongue flicks out of his mouth and his nails start to lengthen into claws.

  “No, she’s not. Spoke with her earlier,” Flowers retorts, leaning over the table. “Those diapers were yours. You know it. I know it. You want your girl to know it? How you like to shit in these stink bags and cry in some old lady’s arms?”

  Lilypunt’s eyes widen. Then he slumps forward in his seat and holds his head in his hands.

  “I’m gonna let you th
ink a bit. Then we’ll come back and talk about how much money you owed Louise.”

  Lilypunt puts his head on the table. “I think I want a lawyer.”

  Flowers growls. “Oh, you’re gonna need one.”

  He leads the way out. I scoop up the receipt and follow, scanning the list of purchases until I see it: Haggies Overnights, 24 pack.

  Damn. Doomed by diapers.

  Chapter 9

  The rest of the work night is uneventful.

  I’m marching down to the parking garage to spray our van down with every kind of swamp-ass repellent I can find. My arms are loaded with buckets full of spray bottles and rags and paper towels.

  I push open the door to the parking garage with my butt and nearly brain Tabby, who’s about to pull the handle on the other side. Right behind her is Sarah Snow, who’s dressed like she’s going to a funeral. In fact, my eyes roam over Tabby again. Both ladies are looking particularly professional. They’re wearing black suits. Sarah’s looks velvet and she has a sharp purple blouse underneath. Tabby’s is so high waisted it could be from the seventies. It might actually be from the seventies. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so dressed up. Not even when I met her … in court.

  I swallow a sigh and look down at Tabby. “Did you get arrested again?”

  “No!” she says indignantly, shaking her head and making her white curls bounce. “We’re here on business.”

  I set down my buckets of cleaning supplies and block the door. My fairy senses are tingling on this one. “What kind of business?” I cross my arms. Please don’t say matchmaking. Please don’t.

  “We’re here to meet with a client,” Sarah’s tone is evasive.

  That sets off alarm bells in my brain. “What kind of client? A client that’s hired you?” I press. No way in hell am I letting them through the door if they’re going to harass Flowers.

  “He will,” Sarah crosses her arms defiantly.

  “No, please. I told you anyone but him.”

  The door smacks me in the back, and I fall to my knees on the concrete. “Son of a Bengel!” I curse as my hands scrape the concrete.

  Behind me, Petey’s voice asks, “What are you doing blocking the door, Fox?”

  I grumble and pull myself to my knees. “I’m trying to stop these two—” But when I look up, the two members of Blue Snow Matchmaking are gone.

  “Sabertooth balls,” I mutter. Those women are gonna get me fired.

  “What did you say?”

  “I’ve decided all curse words should be tiger-related.”

  Petey’s eyes grow wide. “If Flowers ever finds out—”

  I lean closer to Petey and say, “You know he’s the type to kill the messenger, right?”

  Petey waves his hands. “Whoa! I’m not gonna tell him!” (Sometimes I wonder how he became a vamp. He doesn’t fit the badass MO at all.)

  “Good. Now come with me.” I yank open the door to the building.

  “Um … I was heading home.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “You let those women in. You’re gonna have to help me get them out.”

  Petey’s boyish face is confused. He runs a hand through his auburn hair. It’s his nervous tell. “Are they gonna attack someone in there?”

  “Worse,” I whisper, letting him fester a second. “They’re gonna try and set up Flowers. On a date.”

  Petey’s eyes widen and he takes a step backward, toward the parking garage. “Wait. You just said he’ll kill the messenger.”

  “If they make it up there, I’m telling him you let them in.”

  Petey darts past me into the stairwell. He uses vamp speed, so he’s basically a blur with a streak of red on top.

  I smile and give myself an internal high-five. Then I start up the stairs and text Becca.

  Code Kitty. I repeat Code Kitty.

  Now? She responds.

  They’re on their way up the stairs.

  During our hours of evidence bagging, when the guys were gone for their turn sitting in on questioning (they got stuck with chickie pups), I briefed her on the whole Blue Snow debacle. Hopefully, she can run interference.

  Luckily for us all, Petey is faster than two old ladies. He has them stopped on the stairwell, just in front of the door that leads to the first floor of the courthouse and our lovely investigative offices.

  “I’m sorry, but you need a badge to go in there,” Petey crosses his arms. “Otherwise you need to use the public entrance out front.”

  He actually sounds good. All official and shit. I start to creep back down the stairs. No need to let them know I put him up to this.

  But Sarah spots me. “Lyon Fox! You get your tush up here and tell this young man we’re with you.”

  I turn, straddling two steps. “But … you’re not with me.”

  Sarah’s eyes narrow. “Oh really? I suppose that apricot strudel I made is just gonna have to go—”

  “Not fair!” I snap. She’s bribing me with sweets? She knows my fae Achilles’ heel. “I told you not to use my boss for—”

  “We aren’t using him,” Tabby snaps. “We’re getting his help.”

  “We’ve already called him, and he agreed last morning—”

  I smack a hand to my forehead. I look around for a minute, wondering if Gor the goblin is anywhere in the vicinity. He had a way of making me feel like I’d stepped into my worst nightmare. I’m pretty sure that’s what’s happened. This is my worst nightmare.

  Unless … this is all a joke. That has to be it. These women are playing a joke on me. “I’m not on ‘Stake Out’ am I?” I ask, peering behind me for hidden cameras. The vamp prank show has recently gone viral and their videos are popping up everywhere online. Vamps who prank supernaturals. Only three have died so far. Twenty pranks. Pretty impressive stats. If it wasn’t vamps running the pranks, I’d totally kill whoever’s pranking me now. I smile for the hidden cameras. “Okay. I get it. Joke’s on me.”

  Everyone else on the stairs just keeps glaring at me.

  Dammit.

  I don’t want this to be real.

  I stomp my foot. “You can’t go in there and set up my boss on a date!”

  The door swings open behind Petey. And who’s there?

  Bennett. Of course. He has to witness every humiliating moment of my life. Next to him is none other than Diego Flores.

  Sarah and Tabby immediately grin. Tabby gets this overly self-satisfied, cat-who-got-the-cream grin. And Sarah just holds out a hand like a debutante. Or a princess. “Why, just the gentleman we were hoping to see.”

  “Me?” Bennett touches his chest, confused.

  “Well, if you want a date, then sure,” Tabby says.

  “They’re actually here -or me,” Flowers grins and punches Bennett on the shoulder. “But maybe I’ll see some girl who’ll match you, Boss.”

  My eyes widen. “What?!”

  Flowers is smiling. Again. I swear Gor the Goblin’s got to be messing with me. Flowers smiling—it’s not supposed to happen. It’s just not. It’s unnatural.

  Bennett looks a little pleased by my shock, thinking I’m indignant about him dating. Which—yeah, I would be. Because I’m selfish like that. But right now, I’m really just reeling from this entire situation. What the hell is going on?

  Somehow, Tabby and Sarah convinced Flowers that he should go along with this matchmaking scheme. Has the apocalypse started? I mean, I know I saw stars over at Luke’s place last night. But I didn’t think it was literally world-ending stuff. I was just stroking the man’s ego when I said that. (I mean, it was toe-curlingly good.) Ah, crap. I really gotta watch what I say. Did I somehow cause the universe to collapse? Shit!

  Flowers smirks at all of us and says, “You’re looking at the new director o- matching at Blue Snow Matchmaking.”

  Bennett turns and gives Flowers a disbelieving stare. “You’re doing what?”

  Flowers gloats a bit. “I get to vet all the women. Make sure any crazies don’t make it through. It’s a ha
rd job, man, but someone’s …”

  Bennett thumps him on the back, thankfully cutting off what was sure to be an unoriginal arrogant-ass monologue. “Good luck, man.”

  Flowers gives one of those weird male chin raises. The ‘yeah’ or ‘I’ll see you’ ones. Then he trots down the stairs and extends his elbows to my neighbor and her best friend so they can loop their arms through his. “Ladies,” he says to Sarah and Tabby, “can I escort you down to the car?”

  Damn. Those women are smart as shit. They just locked Flores into blind dates of their choice and he doesn’t even realize it. Holy rabid frothing tigers. They might just be the most manipulative, reaper-level, badass matchmakers of all time. My urge to beat them morphs into the urge to be them.

  Sarah demurely takes Flower’s arm. Tabby waves him off, muttering about antiquated gestures.

  Sarah giggles at her clueless escort. “We’ve already gotten an applicant. A sweet young thing. Mid-twenties. Kind of shy. Think you could interview her at Wendel’s?”

  Sarah and Flowers walk down past me. Tabby follows shortly after. I’m starstruck. I think we all are a little stunned. Petey, Bennett, and I exchange a look.

  “Did that really just happen?” Bennett asks.

  “Oh, it happened,” Petey runs a hand through his hair. “I’m just kinda wondering if I’m dead all over again, this time in another dimension.”

  I turn and stare at the door to the parking garage for a second. “I’m still supposed to bleach the police van. But I really … really need to see this go down.”

  A second later, Bennett and Petey are on my heels. Bennett holds out his hand for the van keys. “I’ll drive while you clean.”

  Petey says, “I’ll help you clean on the way if you’ll let me watch, too.”

  An evil, excited grin spreads across my face. “Let’s go watch this puss—” I can’t finish the word. Dammit.

  “Pussy cat,” Bennett supplies.

  “Thank you—get his date on.”

  We all rush out the door.

  I have a feeling these dates are gonna be epic. They’re gonna blow like Vesuvius. They’re gonna be cat-astrophic.

  And if I have my way, they’re getting posted on BooTube.