by Sofia Belle
“That’s no problem.” She took my arm and walked me a few steps farther down the path, guiding me into a shady alcove, where we perched on a bench beneath a canopy of white blossoms. “Thank you, Bel. I mean it.”
I took a long breath before I began talking, and when I did, I filled her in as much as I could without incriminating my friends or myself. I told her that we’d stopped by the bachelorette party to check on the girls and that we might have looked inside Linda’s room.
I didn’t tell her about the note or the bag of donuts because really, what was there to say? Linda had gotten hungry the morning of her dress fitting? She might have made a date with someone while she was in town? Until we had more information, I’d keep that part quiet.
I finished by telling her that the chief had called and ruled Linda’s death a murder; that it was best if Hailey stayed here in the mansion, protected by the bodyguards that felt stifling and claustrophobic, at least for now. I ended with my condolences. “That’s all I know, I promise.”
Hailey gave a slow nod. “Why would someone want to murder Linda?”
“We haven’t figured that out yet. Do you have any thoughts?”
She shook her head slowly. “No, like I said, I have no clue. Do you think...do you think the killer left town once they got what they were after?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know the why. Or the who. Neither do the cops, from what I’ve heard. It’s a black hole.”
“Poison,” she murmured. “If it was poison, that would mean she ate something. Are you asking around breakfast places?”
I nodded. “We’re taking care of it.”
“Have you found anything?”
“I’ll call you the second we have anything substantial,” I said. A twinge of guilt pricked at my conscience, but then again, I didn’t owe it to Hailey to divulge all my theories. In a town this small, unfounded rumors had a way of ruining lives. I couldn’t ruin Andy Sweet’s business—or anybody’s, for that matter—on a hunch. “The police are looking into everything. Layla and I are asking around. And Rosie, for crying out loud, if anyone’s going to find something, it’s likely her. She’s a bloodhound on a trail for this news story. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Hailey gave a weak smile then fiddled with the edge of her dress. “Yes, all right, then.”
I gave a polite cough. “Hails, I really do need to figure out the flowers, though, if you’re still planning on going through with the wedding.” I let the end hang as a question. “We have two options. Whitman’s is more expensive, but they’re established. Or you can go with Anderson’s—new company, but cheaper prices.”
Hailey considered for a long time, and I wondered if she was even thinking about the flowers or if she was considering putting the wedding off. Eventually, she answered. “Yes, we’ll do it,” she said, nodding as if to convince herself. “We’re getting married. Let’s go with Whitman’s.”
“You know if you want to postpone…”
“I don’t.”
I smiled. “Well then, I will go get the flowers ordered this afternoon. I’ll check on your dress, get the cake ready, and that should be the last of it. Don’t worry about the final tasting. Everything else is in place. You’ll be okay, Hailey. Everything will be okay.”
“Clive and I are going to get married.” She tilted her chin up. “Nobody can stop that.”
“And you will live happily ever after,” I said. “I promise you. I haven’t been wrong yet, Hailey, and I don’t plan on starting now.”
Hailey looked at me and nodded, her eyes filled with equal parts hope and doubt. Over her shoulder, I saw a movement. Clive. For a groom-to-be, he had his head down, a hat pulled low, and the smooth, suspicious movements of a man who didn’t want to be seen.
And just as I’d promised that everything would work out, a small niggle in the back of my mind gave me pause. If everything was okay, then why was Clive sneaking out of the mansion?
Chapter 13
** **
Layla and I bid our goodbyes at the front door, waving to Hailey and Pippa as we all pretended not to notice the apples stashed in Layla’s pockets. We promised to be in touch soon, though whether we were talking about the wedding details or information on Linda’s case neither of us clarified.
Once Layla and I had navigated our way back to the vehicle through half an army’s worth of beefy guards, we climbed in and started down the driveway. I kept my eyes peeled, but the road was empty.
“Are you looking for Clive?” Layla surprised me with her question, her eyes moving equally fast as she scanned the surrounding yard. “I saw him sneaking out of here while you guys were talking.”
“You noticed that too?” I looked over. “I thought maybe I was being paranoid.”
“No way. For a person who is going to be part of the family in a few days’ time, he looked more like a cat burglar than a doting groom.”
“I thought the same thing.” I bit my lip. “What do you think he was up to?”
“I don’t know, but it looked like he didn’t want anyone to notice him leaving.”
“Well, he can’t have snuck in. This place is guarded more heavily than the Council.”
The Council was Fairyvale’s equivalent of City Hall. The sign out front read “Council of Magic.” Most tourists thought it was a joke. So did all the human locals. Only a few of us knew the irony of it hiding in plain sight. The Council believed in protecting itself through a discreet, dangerous web of curses, hexes, and invisible creatures. At least, that’s what the rumors said. I hadn’t been inside, and I certainly wasn’t privy to their security detail.
“Where do you think he’s going?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” I spun the wheel to turn us onto the main road. We were a few minutes behind him, still too far away.
Luck was with us, however. We almost flew past the gas station where Clive had stopped to fill up his car.
“Hello, Clive,” I murmured. “Nice of you to fill up nearby.”
Layla pointed out a private driveway to a house with a For Sale sign out front and dark windows inside. “Wait here then follow him when he leaves.”
We could see the gas station perfectly from the edge of the drive, and if any bystanders looked our way, it would be easy enough for Layla to reach out the car window and grab a flier for the house on the market.
Ten minutes later and fifty fliers richer, I pulled onto the road behind Clive, leaving two cars between us. Fairyvale wasn’t known for its heavy traffic, which normally made me happy. Now it just made things difficult.
He’d filled up his new BMW, a pretty-looking black car with a sporty vibe to it. After chatting a minute with the attendant, he’d gassed up, looked around, and climbed back in his car. He wore sunglasses and a hat and shifted his eyes with every breath he took—it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out the man didn’t want to be followed.
Clive snaked his way through the outskirts of town, working his way from the single road that led to the Monroe mansion all the way past the Council, heading toward the Forest of Fairies. We passed the Witch’s Britches shop, which was right next to the Wedding Witch headquarters and The Witch Weekly, where Rosie was likely typing furiously to hit a deadline.
“Where is he going?” Layla looked around. “Is it time for Dungeons and Donuts again? I am getting hungry what with all this stress of tailing a person.”
“Don’t feel stressed, we’re just exploring the city. Think of it like a tour. Clive just doesn’t know he’s our tour guide.”
Layla snorted. “Why do you have such a problem stretching the rules? Just admit you’re following him. You’re snooping.”
“I don’t snoop,” I said. “I follow the rules. I abide by the laws. I don’t make rash decisions. It’s just this whole thing has me so engrossed that I can’t seem to stop.” I looked over at Layla. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Well, I’d say you’re human, but that’s not true. Relax, Bel, you’re c
urious. It’s normal!”
“I realized one thing while talking to Hailey back there.”
“Me too. I realized how nice it must be to live so rich. Did you see the looks of that pool?”
I frowned. “I think we need to hand over the donut bag and the note to the chief.”
“Why? We found it.”
“Yes, but we weren’t supposed to be in her room.”
“Exactly.” Layla pointed toward the ceiling. “We weren’t supposed to be there. So how are you going to explain us finding it in the first place?”
“I’ve been trying to come up with a solution to that little issue, and I think I’ve got one.”
“You gonna share?”
“What if we said that it was left in Linda’s personal items?”
Layla shrugged. “You’re not wrong, but we still have the same problem. Her personal items were left in her hotel room. We can’t explain us finding them.”
“What if we say that Linda had dropped off one of her bags, or a purse, at Hailey's estate?” I said. “Maybe she came into town and visited her future family-in-law and then left a small backpack at her house. Hailey could've found it and asked us to give it to the police.”
“Why wouldn't she have called the police herself?”
“Look, I know this isn't airtight, but I'm just trying to figure out a way to do the right thing without getting anyone in trouble.” I glanced at Layla. “The chief needs to know about this. What if the midnight meeting has something to do with Linda's death?”
“Why don't we go and see? We're basically the lead investigators on this case, anyway.”
“Don't let the chief overhear you saying that,” I said with a small smile. “And anyway, I didn't say we wouldn't be tagging along. I just thought it'd be a smart idea to have backup in the form of police. You know, people who have weapons.”
“You have magic. I'd take magic over a weapon any day.”
“True, but I don't want the Council locking me up over Misconduct of Magic because we're snooping where we're not supposed to be snooping. Magic doesn't do us a whole lot of good if we're not allowed to use it.”
“You can use it. Just in self-defense.”
I gave Layla a wry smile. “Exactly. I don't like the idea of putting myself in a position where I need to use self-defense. That means I'm already in trouble.”
“Okay, fine.” Layla sighed. “Have it your way, but I think my way sounds a lot more fun.”
“Dangerous. Dangerous, Layla, not fun.”
“Aren't they the same thing?”
“No. Nope, dear, they're not.”
“Then just drop the note off at the cops and tell them the sort-of truth,” she said. “Say we stopped by Hailey's to talk about the flowers, and she had just discovered Linda's missing backpack and the note. She panicked and handed it over to us. That's completely believable, and plus, she's under a lot of stress. Nobody's going to question the bride who just experienced a murder in her wedding party.”
“Not a bad idea.” I nodded along with Layla's idea. “I think that'll work...hold on, where is he headed?”
“Follow! Right. Turn right!” Layla bounced in her seat, pointing after the tail end of Clive's car, which had just disappeared into a small alley off of Main Street.
We’d made it most of the way through town. The little alley where Clive had turned was virtually unknown to tourists. Even to the locals it was rarely used.
The alley was flanked by the backside of a variety of businesses: shops, bakeries, gift stands...and their garbage cans. Big, smelly garbage cans, which kept most people far, far away.
But not Clive. Clive hurtled down the street, hardly slowing as the front end of his car nicked one of the lids from the garbage bins. The plastic top blew off, creating a roadblock for the two of us. Layla muttered something under her breath and gave a quick point of her finger, a mysterious wind suddenly whipping up out of nowhere and blowing the lid straight over the front of our car. It landed harmlessly behind us.
“Layla,” I hissed. “We are too close to civilization! No magic.”
“What magic?” She gave me a wide-eyed, faux-innocent stare. “It's just a windy day outside.”
By now, we'd given up all pretense of being sneaky. I pressed the pedal to the floor and hurtled through the narrow alley as best I could, using a quick spell only once to move a particularly fat dumpster an inch to the left. Clive had noticed us—that much was obvious.
He twisted off the main alley and into the network of smaller roads that made up the backside of the city. The alleys here were mostly free of pedestrians, since the backs of the buildings weren't much to look at. The front of the stores made folks feel as if they'd stepped into Candyland, so the tourists chose to stay there.
My fingers began to sweat, slipping as I cranked the steering wheel right as hard as I could. Clive had disappeared around a winding street, and I lost all sight of his car. It was only for a moment, but when my car curled around the same corner, he was nowhere to be seen.
I stepped on the brakes, my breathing coming hard. “Did you see where he went?”
Layla squinted, looking up and down the street before she shook her head. “He can't have disappeared. Disappearing in a place this public would surely have the Council after him in seconds—if we’re dealing with magic.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “If he’s magic, I missed all the warning signs. Not to mention, the agents would already be here if he used a vanishing spell and took the car with him. There's no way he could get away with that, not in the middle of the day in the middle of town.”
“So if he didn't disappear, then where could he have gone?” Layla looked up and down the street before craning her neck to look behind us. “Actually? I changed my opinion.”
Before I could look, a knock sounded on the window and Clive stood next to our vehicle, his face a bright shade of red, his eyes burning with distaste. I swallowed. Then, because I couldn't think of anything else to do, I rolled the window down. “Clive, what brings you around here?”
He bent over, sticking his face in the window. His normally handsome features were contorted in anger, and when he spoke, his words dripped with unfriendliness. “What brings me here is none of your business. What brings you to follow me is my business.”
“We weren't following you. We were just...” I trailed off, hoping for a good reason to pop into my brain.
“Of course we were following you,” Layla said, leaning over and elbowing me so hard in the stomach I had to double over just to breathe.
“She just said you weren't following me.” Clive's eyes flashed between Layla and me. “One of you is lying.”
Layla rolled her eyes, cool as a cucumber under pressure, unlike me. I was not built for lying, and even stretching the truth practically triggered a panic attack. “You ask that as if we’re stalkers. We're not stalkers. Do we look like stalkers to you? Bel’s just worried about your wedding, and she had a question for you.” Layla elbowed me. “Right, Bel? What'd you want to ask him? I'm just along for the ride.”
“Right. Flowers,” I blurted. “I came to ask you about flowers.”
Unfortunately, the answer didn't seem to sit well with Clive. Instead of loosening up, his shoulders tensed. “I don't believe you. You were just with Hailey talking about flowers. I don't give a rat’s arse about the flowers, you know that. She cares much more about the details than I do. The day is for her.”
“Well, it's technically about the both of you,” I said. “Since you are getting married to each other.”
“Exactly.” Clive bent over again. “I care about marrying my fiancée. Not about the color of her dress or the type of flower she holds. She could wear a plastic sack and carry a dandelion and some grass and I'd still marry her. Do you understand?”
Layla clasped her hands over her chest, her eyes blinking rapidly. “Wow, that is so, so sweet. That is the most romantic thing I've ever heard. Clive, I like you. That is ador
able.”
I cleared my throat. “I understand. I'm sorry, I just wanted to run the price tag by you. She chose Whitman's, and they are more expensive than the newer company that's sprouted up in town. Is that all right with you? We might be pushing the budget a little tight.”
He waved a hand. “We've already spent a fortune on the day. What’s a few extra bucks on some flowers?”
“I just wanted to make sure. I make a promise to my clients that I never go over budget before clearing it with both parties first.”
Clive fell silent and crossed his arms, taking a step back from the car. “Fine. It's fine. whatever budget you need is the budget you can have, just...just leave me alone, and go through Hails.”
“Understood.” I flexed my fingers around the steering wheel, anxious to get out of there. Lucky thing I'd brought Layla with me. We made a good team. “I'm sorry to bother you, again.”
“Where are you off to so quick, anyway?” Layla leaned over. “For a man who's just out for a drive, you sure pulled some fast corners back there.”
“Yes, trying to get rid of you,” Clive growled. “I hired Bel to plan my wedding, not tail me around town.”
“And your future wife hired me to dress her all sexy on your honeymoon, so feel free to thank me anytime.” Layla leaned back in her seat, examining her nails. “You're welcome.”
A slight reddish tinge appeared on Clive's cheeks. “Just go through Hails, like I said. I don't want to know any details.”
“They suspect you, you know,” Layla called out my window as Clive turned to head back to his car, which he'd tucked into a semi-hidden driveway. We'd missed it when rounding the corner. “Just wanted to give you a heads up.”
“Suspect me?” Clive looked over his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
“Yes, what are you talking about?” I asked in a whisper. “Layla, drop it.”
Clive's hand fiddled around in his pocket. I hadn't seen a weapon on him, but he didn't look happy, either. The way he was running around town, he was a man on a mission. Wondering what sort of mission made my palms sweat.
