by Nova Nelson
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 chance 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.”
“Good call,” I replied. “If you’re anything like me, having a little bit of something good only makes you want more.”
“Yes,” she said, her grin widening. “Looks like you have me pegged.”
Chapter Ten
“Tanner!” I said, grabbing him by the bicep after I charged into Medium Rare. “I need to speak with you.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, struggling to keep the coffee pot from spilling at the sudden jolt. “What’s so urgent? Oh, wait.” His face dropped. “Please don’t tell me I’m in Veronica’s will.” His eyes scrunched up as he grimaced. “I swear! Why do people keep doing this? It’s like they want me to be suspected in their death!” He set the pot down on the counter a little too hard, and the contents sloshed out of the spout.
“Easy there,” I said. “You’re not in her will, or at least I don’t think you are. Wait, you don’t work for her on the weekends or something, do you?” I thought of Barty and the strange array of services he provided for the old widow. No, Tanner wouldn’t do that.
Would he?
“No. Although,” he leaned forward, speaking in low tones, “I am delivering her meals to her at no extra cost. Just seemed like the right thing to do, you know? Since she has to order out on account of someone poisoning her.”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s rich, Tanner. You don’t have to give her a discount. Also, this is exactly the sort of selfless behavior that is going to land you in jail one day when you end up in the wrong person’s will.”
He frowned. “You’re right. I gotta knock it off.”
“For sure.”
“Oh!” he said, remembering. “Don’t tell anyone that the food is for Veronica. She doesn’t want it to get around town that she orders from here every so often, so I promised her I would keep it low-key.”
For fang’s sake. “Have you spoken with her?”
“Just through owls. We’ve sort of been writing back and forth along with the orders.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh, you two are pen pals now?”
“I’m only slightly confident I know what that is, but yes, I think we’re pen pals.”
Did his thoughtfulness know no bounds? It was both annoying and sexy.
But in this case, that quality was useful. “How’s she doing?”
He shook his head somberly. “Not good. She seems to be going downhill. Dizziness is getting worse. Headaches. Blurred vision.”
“We don’t have much time, then.” I grabbed his wrist and led him into the kitchen where we could have more privacy. Once we were in the office with the door shut, I filled him in on what I’d discovered at Atlantis Day Spa.
“But I don’t think there was anything she would have had to eat or drink there, other than the sparkleberry-infused water. Maybe the fruit would cover up the taste of silver.”
“There’s an easy way to answer this,” he said.
A few minutes later, the carrier owl took flight from its brass perch by the back door of Medium Rare, carrying the query to Ruby.
“If she’s home and awake,” he said, “we should hear back in a matter of minutes.”
“Those owls don’t mess around.”
“No, they don’t.”
“And you’re sure no one can intercept it?”
“Nuh-uh. Eastwind’s mail network has so many protective spells around it from centuries ago, not even all the witches in Eastwind could harm or manipulate an owl. They’re untouchable.”
“I have to be honest,” I said. “I’m worried that Heather didn’t drink the water, and then what?”
He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s wait to hear back from Ruby before we worry.”
But when we did hear back a few minutes later, the reply was what I’d feared. I hovered over Tanner’s shoulder where we stood on the back step of the diner, just beside the owl perch, to read the response. The message simply said, in Ruby’s flourishing handwriting, “She didn’t drink anything at the spa.”
“Shoot,” I said, staring down at the paper in Tanner’s hands. “Dead end.”
He pressed his lips together, squinting his eyes as he stared down the back alley. “No, not necessarily.”
I perked up. “Meaning?”
He turned his attention to me, and his hazel eyes held an intense excitement. “You’re forgetting that Heather was feeling dizzy for a while before she ever went to Atlantis that afternoon. It was only after Atlantis that she died. That means something had been poisoning her for a while, and maybe her body simply received the final fatal dose at Atlantis.”
I could feel where he was going with this, but my mind hadn’t yet put words to it. “She didn’t eat or drink anything there, though.”
“I heard about this fairy who died from inhaling iron dust. Apparently, she got too close to a blacksmith’s workshop as he was filing down some iron. Fairies can’t touch iron without it harming them, like werewolves with silver, so they’re smart enough to stay away. Word has it, she was downwind of the anvil where the blacksmith was working, and inhaling dust into her lungs was enough to kill her.”
“You think Heather inhaled silver dust?”
He shrugged. “No clue. I’m just po
inting out that there are other ways to be poisoned by things.”
I considered it, then finally, finally, a theory began to take shape. “Tanner, what precisely happens when a werewolf touches silver?”
“It stings them. If they touch it for too long, it can leave a permanent mark on their skin.”
All the years of scare-tactics-based consumer reports on the news were finally paying off. “So, what if it was just a little silver?” I didn’t expect him to have an answer. I was mostly speaking aloud to help myself through the process. “That would probably just sting a little bit, but not more than women are used to when it comes to creams and lotions.”
“Uh, I guess not. I don’t know much about women’s creams and lotions. What are you thinking here, Nora?”
I had it. I knew I did. “She didn’t ingest it, she absorbed it! Tanner! That’s it!” I threw my arms around him and almost kissed him before I caught myself and pulled back.
“I don’t think I follow,” he said, grinning like a fool. “But I’m glad you’re happy.”
I dragged him back into the kitchen and paused. “I understand that you’re technically working right now, but I need you to do me a favor.”
“Yeah, anything. Jane can take over for a little while.”
“Deliver Veronica’s food to her yourself. Tell her to take a shower immediately and not use whatever Heather sent her for her birthday afterward. Oh, and if she invites you into the shower with her, which isn’t out of the realm of possibility if I’m being candid, just say no, okay? Then I need her to call Atlantis and say she would like to order another one of whatever Heather got her and that she’ll be sending me to pick it up. Got it?”
He nodded determinedly. “I understood what you said, but not why you said it.”
“Because she has a manservant who might also be her lover.”
“Huh?”
“Bartholomew. Barty. I’m pretty sure he’s her boy toy.”
Tanner shook his head slowly. “You lost me.”
Get it together, Nora! “Never mind the shower part. Can you remember to do the other stuff?”
“You’re worried about me showering with Veronica Lovelace?” His confusion gave way to amusement. It felt a little like he was laughing at me.
“No. I mean, do what you want,” I said quickly, slightly befuddled how we’d ended up here in the first place. “Tell her to shower—if you want to shower with her, that’s up to you—”
“I do like ’em slightly older,” he said, suppressing a grin.
I decided to pretend I hadn’t heard it. “And then have her call the spa and—”
“Yeah, I got the last bit. Have her order more, and you’ll pick it up. I just don’t get why that’s important.”
“That’s okay.” Honestly, I was just thrilled we were off the shower thing. “Do what I asked and you don’t have to understand why.”
“Absolutely. And where are you going?”
“I have a couple stops to make before I head to the spa.”
“At a time like this?” he said, struggling against a grin. “We’re about to catch a murderer and here you are going to relax.”
“Very funny.” I turned toward the door into the dining room but paused when I felt his strong fingers grab my wrist. I stared up into his eyes, and the lightheartedness from a moment earlier was nowhere to be found.
He stepped closer, our bodies only a few inches apart. “I can’t help but think you’re about to go do something dangerous, Nora.”
I nodded, speechless because I was certain, based on the gleam in his eyes, that it was about to happen. Finally. Tanner Culpepper was going to kiss me.
He leaned forward, and I shut my eyes.
But nothing.
I cracked one eyelid and quickly opened the other, staring down at an object he held in his hand between us.
A salt shaker. “You said she was a nix, right?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“What do you know about nixes?”
“Um …” Dang. “Nothing,” I admitted.
“If you’re going to do something dangerous, I suggest you slow down and figure out what you’re getting into first. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Fine. Do you know about nixes?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. They’re freshwater spirits that take on human form. Want to know how to defend yourself from one? I’ll give you a hint.”
He wiggled the salt shaker in front of my face, and I snatched it away, tucking it away into the small, tan, over-the-shoulder satchel where I kept my coin purse. “Salt. Got it. Anything else you need to tell me before we head out?” Urgency pulsed through my bloodstream. Each second that passed without warning Veronica felt like a step closer to catastrophe.
After nibbling his lower lip in concentration, he said, “Plenty more I should tell you, but nothing that can’t wait.”
My heart skipped in my chest. But that was probably just adrenaline, right?
I turned to leave and he hollered, “Bring that shaker back, or it comes out of your paycheck!”
I laughed and hurried out of Medium Rare. There was a ghost—and a couple men—I needed to have a word with, face to face.
Chapter Eleven
Ruby wasn’t thrilled with the excited manner in which I entered her home. She glared up at me from her comfy chair in the corner as the front door bounced on the hinges. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m in a hurry.”
“So I see, but might I suggest that there’s nothing which necessitates one hurrying so much that she demolishes the door of her landlady?” She closed the book she was reading and set it on the side table.
“Where’s Heather?” I asked. “I need to speak with her.”
“Taking a break from visibility, I expect. Perhaps frolicking between worlds.”
Ruby was not being especially helpful.
Grim pushed past me into the house. “Oh, sweet baby jackalope!” He flopped down by the blue flames in the hearth. “This heat will be the second death of me.”
I’d hardly noticed the heat on the walk from Medium Rare. The five o’clock sun was lowering in the sky and I had other things on my mind as I hurried along.
“How do we get Heather to come back?”
Without a word, Ruby shuffled over to the copper bowl, still full of the crushed herbs and berries of the anchoring spell, and brought it over to the parlor table along with a small copper baton. “Watch carefully,” she said, bringing the baton to the lip of the bowl before working it in slow circles around the top. After a half dozen rotations, a low ringing echoed through the room, growing louder as the speed of Ruby’s rotations increased.
Then suddenly Heather appeared, laughing maniacally. “Oh, please! Stop! Puh-lease stop! That tickles!”
Ruby removed the baton from the bowl, and the ringing slowly faded. “You’re needed,” was all she said before heading back to her chair and opening her book again.
Heather looked at me. “Yes? You have some new information?”
“Lots. The skin cream you got from Atlantis Day Spa. Frankie sold that to you, right?”
“Oh yes, she mixes it up. She has quite the talent for that sort of thing. She takes special requests, too. I prefer the scent of eucalyptus and orange blossom, but my mother prefers pine and rosemary, so I can order each of those and Frankie will mix them with a base she creates herself.”
“And when you used the face cream, did it tingle? Maybe even sting a little bit?”
Heather narrowed her eyes. “Yes, it did. But I assumed that meant it was working.”
“Oh, it was working, all right, but not the way you thought it was.”
“I’m not sure—”
“Silver,” I said. “Frankie put silver powder in your face cream. Not enough to kill you immediately, just enough to sting a little and over time, as it absorbed into your system, make you sick. And then sicker. And then”—I waved a hand at her ghostly form—“here you are.”
He
r hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh no! You think … but why would Frankie want me dead?”
“The same reason she wants your mother dead.”
“My mother …?” She was a little slow on it, but then again, I supposed it made sense, since I’d just awoken her from whatever ghost sleep she was enjoying. “My mother! Oh no! The birthday present!”
“Yep. Unfortunately, you made it extra easy for Frankie to move onto stage two of her plot when you went there for your mother’s gift rather than buying her a new outfit.”
“Is she okay? Oh dear! We have to tell her!”
“She’s sick, but I’ve already sent Tanner over there to take care of it.”
“What have I done?” she breathed.
“We can self-pity later, Heather. Right now, I need you to come with me.” I turned to Ruby, who was doing a poor job of pretending to read and not listen in eagerly as I unraveled the murder. “You said there’s a way to remove the anchor. How do I do it?”
Ruby blinked at me a few times. “It’s not that hard,” she said. “Just dump out the bowl.”
“Dump out the … For fang’s sake! That’s it?”
“Yes.” She nodded, lifting her eyebrows impatiently. “That’s it. Magic doesn’t always have to be complicated.” She looked at her book again. “Just put it in the fire so the night veils burn up.”
I had to scoot a sleeping Grim and Clifford to the side with my feet to pour the contents of the bowl into the flames, but as soon as I did, Heather groaned. “Oh, that feels so much better.”
“Great. Come with me. Grim, you too.”
“Not a chance.”
“Oh, come on. What can I do to persuade you?”
“Nothing. The only thing you can do for me is wrap up this investigation so I can take my holiday in the Deadwoods.”
I didn’t have time for this. “Fine, you win this round. But next time—”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll cross that death-trap of a bridge when we get to it.”
I opened the front door, which creaked on its hinges (probably partly my fault for the way I’d entered), and Ruby called after me, “Good luck. Try not to get yourself killed.”
