“Ned McFinn, the man who was killed in Springhill, also exhibited some strange behavior,” I bluffed. I didn’t want to out him as being a werewolf, but Lucas knew what I was talking about. “It seems to me that those two murders were possibly related. I didn’t know for sure, but it was a hunch. Marvin dying from a poisoning was also a strange coincidence, given that there were possibly two other deaths in the previous cook-off towns.”
“How could I have possibly killed Marvin?” Lucas sneered, picking up his bag. “You were with me when it happened. I didn’t have the means, or the motive. One of the cooks here is known to carry poisonous plants, maybe she has the means. Another cook is always coming in second place, giving him a motive. Why don’t you go accuse them? I don’t have to stand here and listen to this. You’re talking utter nonsense.”
He made to leave, but I stepped up to block his way.
“Careful, Zoey,” cautioned Bart. “I’m not so sure getting close to him is a good idea if you’re right and he’s the murderer.”
“Before you go,” I said, “I actually heard a little bit of nonsense recently. Someone was saying that Marvin had the ability to someone water out of thin air. Doesn’t that sound crazy?”
Lucas stood his ground, staring down at me.
“This is what I think happened,” I continued. “When you went to Ravendale, your wife told you that she wanted to… gain some special powers, let’s say. She told you after the process began, and you couldn’t take it well. You thought she was going to become a monster, and wanted to stop it before she did something she regretted. Later on, now believing in people with these abilities back at home in Springhill, you began piecing together that Ned might’ve also had some. You procured a silver sword, knowing it was the only way to kill him, and attacked him when he least expected it.”
“Finally, last night, you were down at the Antler’s. You heard a crazy drunk telling a tale that was so out there, no one believed it. No one, that is, except for you. You knew these stories weren’t just fiction, but real. Believing that Marvin also had certain abilities, you plotted his death. You knew Mary carried dangerous plants with her, which would let you have a perfect murder weapon. If that failed, at least you could blame it on the always angry and always second place John Lorden.”
“Whether or not you’re right, you always took a cowards way out,” I said, trying to rile him up. I couldn’t go to the police with the connection being paranormal, so I needed him to get angry, and speak without thinking. “You always killed your target when they were unaware. Marvin was poisoned, without knowing it. Ned was attacked in the back. Your wife…”
“Cynthia,” he said quietly. “Her name, was Cynthia.”
I paused as he put his bag down before looking back to me.
“You must believe it, too,” he said, a grin appearing on his face.
“Believe what?” I asked, a little caught off guard by his happy tone.
“These stories,” he continued. “Vampires. Werewolves. All of the things that go bump in the night. Monsters. You must believe them, too, to have figured out that I was involved in all three instances. I was making the world a better place.”
“The world is a better place, because you killed you wife?” I asked. He must be joking.
“Careful with this guy, Zoey,” said Bart. “I don’t like the way his eyes are looking.”
I didn’t notice it until Bart mentioned it, but Lucas’ eyes had gone wide, looking around wildly. It looked as if he was losing control.
“I thought no one would believe me when I told them,” he said. “I killed Cynthia before she could finally turn into a vampire. I knew I had already lost her, and that if I didn’t stop her, she’d go on a rampage. I took it hard, of course. At least at first. I slowly realized that she died the second the vampire bit her, infecting her with that disease. He was the one that killed her. All I killed was a monster.”
“I was at a bar in Springhill - one that I recommended to John and Chad, actually - when I heard strange rumors about Ned. People whispered about how they had seen him acting strange at full moons, and how there was talk of him being connected with a large, black dog that seemed to appear only when he was in town. My company had helped build a metalworking shop a while back, and I had made myself a key to the place. I went in, looking for anything silver. When I found that sword… I realized what had happened.”
“And that was?” I asked, imploring him to continue.
“I was being called down a new path. I was being called to become a monster hunter,” he said, his smile spreading further than I’d ever seen before. “It was my destiny. When I came to Twistchapel, again I heard rumors about a freak. I was sad to hear it was Marvin, I truly was, but I had no choice. I had to kill him. As you said, I took that weird plant while Mary was serving some people, and then I stuck it in a specially made serving for when Marvin came around.”
“So you did it,” I clarified, raising my voice just a bit in hopes that other people could hear the confession. “You killed those three people?”
“I killed those three monsters!” he shouted, raising his hands high. “Don’t you see? I have helped keep our small towns safer! Without me, those three freaks would still be running around, killing countless innocent people!”
“Sorry to interrupt,” said Drake, walking up behind Lucas. The crazed man didn’t seem to realize that everyone around us stopped to listen. “Did I hear you correctly? Three people, including Marvin, were killed by you?”
“Yes. Cynthia would be so proud of me, if she was never tricked by that vampire into throwing her life away. Have you come to thank me?” asked Lucas. “You should be on your guard, as well, Detective. There are other rumors dealing with unnatural people in this town. One of your old mayors was a vampire. Did you know that?”
“Okay, man,” said Drake calmly, taking out a pair of handcuffs. “Why don’t you calm down and we can take you somewhere safe to tell us more?”
“I’d be happy to, Detective,” said Lucas, not resisting at all while Drake cuffed his hands behind his back. He appeared confident that he could convince Drake to see his point of view. I didn’t think it was going to quite go the way Lucas thought it would. “Did you know there’s a witch in Twistchapel, too? She runs a business here, and talks to spirits!”
Bart and I shared a look. He was talking about me, and he didn’t even know it. Apparently, I was being watched more than I thought I was, even in my own store. I really needed to be careful talk to Bart, even if I thought the coast was clear.
“Is that right?” asked Drake, his tone as if a toddler just told him the sky was purple. “Well, these nice men are going to help you into a car, and we’ll talk later, okay?”
“I’d be happy to help educate them as well,” smiled Lucas, as two police officers gently grabbed his arms and directed him away from the crowd. “You’ll all see! When the monsters come out of the shadows, I’ll be the one you all turn to!”
The crowd murmured among themselves as Lucas was taken away, before going on their way as if nothing of note happened.
“How’d you figure it out?” asked Drake.
“I thought Ned’s death by a silver sword was strange, and remembered that silver could kill werewolves, according to legend,” I lied. “I figured I’d see how Lucas would respond to these urban myths, and he seemed to crack. He thought I believed everything he did, and confessed to both murders, plus one of his wife. I honestly didn’t expect him to go fully crazy.”
“So sad,” said Drake, shaking his head. “Can you imagine thinking your spouse was a monster like that? I hope they keep him away from Nicole. I’d hate for her to think for a second that Marvin was some sort of wizard or something.”
“That… that does sound horrible…” I said, trying to put on a smile. This just proved me right. I couldn’t tell Drake about what I really was… at least not yet.
“Good job solving this one,” smiled Drake, taking my hand and squeezing i
t.
“Oh, it was nothing,” I smiled.
“I should really go help the other guys,” he said, letting go of my hand. “We’ll talk again soon, okay?”
“Looking forward to it,” I said, watching him walk away. I hoped that one day I could be open with him about my secret. It would take some time, but maybe he’d be able to accept it one day. For now, I should just be happy with how things were going.
“I knew you could do it, Miss Foster,” said a man, patting me on the back. “And ahead of schedule!”
“What can I say,” I said, glancing sideways at Warren. I had a feeling the warlock would show up sooner or later. “I’m getting pretty good at this.”
“How did you know to come here?” asked Bart, raising an eyebrow. “Seems suspicious.”
“Miss Foster mentioned coming here to Detective Drake earlier,” shrugged Warren. “Plus, talk of that firefighter’s death was all over the town. I figured Miss Foster wouldn’t stop until she figured out who did it. I must admit I didn’t expect it to be connected to the Ravendale woman.”
“Cynthia,” I said. “Her name was Cynthia.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “I’ll be sure to mention that to my employer when I inform them that the matter has been solved.”
“Looks like you won’t be able to bring the killer in to them, since he’s in police custody,” I said.
“I just had to figure out the who and the why. Now that I know both, my job, and yours, is complete.”
“I assume we aren’t getting compensated for this one, as usual?” asked Bart.
“Actually… I do have a gift,” smirked Warren, handing me a small box. It was covered in birthday wrapping paper, with a bow on top.
“Thanks, but it isn’t my birthday,” I said.
“I know that, silly,” he said. “I believe that will come in handy sooner rather than later. However, you mustn’t open it until she arrives.”
“She?” I asked. What was he talking about?
“Congratulations on another case solved, Miss Foster,” said Warren, ignoring my question and walking away. “We’ll be in touch.”
I looked down at the box as he left. Part of me wanted to throw it away, and another part wanted to open it up immediately. Instead, I put it in my pocket for another time. I didn’t know what he meant, and I didn’t always trust him, but Warren had an annoying habit of being right.
“I think I’m going to have Bridgette come over,” I said to Bart, pulling out my phone to text her. After such a crazy day, I needed to tell someone about it.
“Oh fun,” laughed Bart. “I can’t wait to tell her how you wouldn’t stop hitting on the killer!”
“Don’t tell people that!” I laughed. I didn’t want people thinking I was talking to spirits, but I really didn’t want people thinking I was trying to get together with murderers.
Epilogue
“No!” gasped Bridgette, taking a handful of popcorn. “He just goes crazy after you lay out what happened?”
“Pretty much,” I said, taking some popcorn myself. Bridgette and I had been talking about the day’s events for a couple of hours back at my house. Even Bart was enjoying the time, interjecting whenever he could.
“Was Drake impressed?” she asked.
“Sort of, I think?” I said, trying to remember how he responded. “He mentioned how sad it would be to think that your spouse was a monster… made me think things might not work out with us after all.”
“Oh no, don’t say that!” said Bridgette.
“Warren mentioned a couple of months ago that those touched by the paranormal can never truly have a deep and meaningful romantic relationship with normal people,” I said. “I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that maybe he was right.”
“Don’t listen to that guy,” she said. “He sounds skeevy, and is probably just trying to get in your head so that you’ll give him the time of day.”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t think he’s trying to do that. Granted, he always seems to be playing games, even in serious moments.”
“What do you think about Warren, Bart?” asked Bridgette.
“I don’t like or trust him,” purred the cat. “He’s rarely honest with us.”
“He hasn’t done anything harmful towards us, though,” I said.
“Yet,” said Bart.
I sighed. I didn’t know what to think. I felt like I should’ve been happier that I figured out three murders in just an afternoon, but something seemed off. Maybe it had to do with Warren’s mysterious gift and warning. What could he have meant?
Knock. Knock.
“Expecting someone else?” asked Bridgette.
“No,” I said, glancing in the direction of my front door.
“Could it be Drake?” asked Bart, fading back into the immaterial plane so that he wouldn’t be seen.
“Oh, I bet it is!” giggled Bridgette. “Should I leave out the back? Give you some alone time?”
“Don’t be silly,” I said, getting up. “I’ll go see who it is. If it’s Drake, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, too.”
I walked over to the door, messing with my hair in the mirror next to it just in case Bart was right. I assumed Drake would’ve called or texted first, but I’d welcome the surprise.
I opened the door with a big smile… that immediately dropped.
An older woman with salt and pepper hair stood on my porch, arms crossed in front of her. She had her ugly yellow green purse over her shoulder, which she had for decades. I always wanted to burn that thing.
“What do you want?” I asked. I didn’t want to deal with her, not now. “Why are you here?”
“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Zoey,” smiled the woman. “Why so hostile?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“All in due time,” said the woman. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Zoey? Who is it?” asked Bridgette, still at the table.
“Is that Bridgette? I haven’t seen her in ages!”
I stood in the frame, blocking the view in from the door, trying to think over my options. I really didn’t want to let her in, but I didn’t exactly have a choice. I couldn’t keep this up forever. Maybe things would be different this time. Probably not, but maybe.
“Zoey?” called out Bridgette again.
“Don’t worry,” I said, turning my body to let the woman in. I wasn’t sure whether I said that more for me or for Bridgette. “Nothing is wrong.”
“Who is it?” she asked. “Is it Drake?”
“No. It’s… It’s my mom.”
The End.
The Twistchapel Cozy Mystery Series:
The Befuddled Butcher (Book 1)
Released September 2017
The Suspicious Spirit (Book 2)
Released October 2017
The Vexing Vampire (Book 3)
Released October 2017
The Problematic Pixie (Book 4)
Released November 2017
The Watchful Werewolf (Book 5)
Released November 2017
The Wrong Witch (Book 6)
Releasing December 2017
Twistchapel Holiday Short:
The Stolen Santa
Released November 2017
For updates on the newest Twistchapel releases, as well as freebies and giveaways, come subscribe to my mailing list at http://eepurl.com/c8CE4L
If you enjoyed the book I'd love to hear from you through a review on Amazon or via email at [email protected] !
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The Watchful Werewolf: Twistchapel Cozy Mystery Book 5 Page 7
