“You don’t seem too concerned,” Ada said.
“I have known many vampires over the years, and for the most part, they are decent creatures. Of course, it’s a matter of age. The older they get, the more civilized they become.”
“Does that apply to witches?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” he answered. “Sometimes, not.” He gave me a wink. At least I think it was a wink. Hard to tell with otters.
“Amelia Windermere, what of her?”
“Too young to be entirely civilized. Humans don’t often live long enough to become peace-loving.”
“Does Amelia haunt the manor?”
He paused for a moment, thinking. “I doubt it. I have heard nothing about it. And I would think I would know, since I live so close.”
“I agree,” I said. “You know of the murder?”
“I’m aware,” he said. “She was not a pleasant person.”
“But you don’t know who killed her?”
He shook his massive head. “I do know that it was a big party. Lots of possible killers.”
“Not if the killer has to be invisible,” Ada said.
“Yes,” he said. “That would appear to be needed.”
“Excuse me,” Ada said. “But you’ve been around many years, right?”
“Indeed, I have.”
“What do you know about dhampirs?”
He smiled. At least I thought it was a smile. Again, hard to tell. “I have never known many, but from what I hear, they make excellent detectives.”
“Detectives?” Ada asked. “Dhampirs? I’m not sure I understand.”
“You’re not aware of what you are?” he asked.
“I...I’ve been told, but that can’t possibly be true.”
“Many, many creatures deny their true essence in the beginning. But if they live long enough, they come to embrace it. There are some books you should read.”
“About dhampirs?”
“Exactly. Written by a dhampir named Preston I believe, from an earlier century. The local library won’t have them. I’m guessing the Windermere Manor library might. Perhaps, Ms. Greene can help you.”
“I’ll do what I can,” I said.
“Then, I’m satisfied that it will be enough. And now, I must leave you. Good luck. And detective, do not be afraid to explore yourself.”
I watched as the Otter King slipped under the ice and disappeared.
On our way back to town, Ada asked me whether or not she could believe the Otter King. I told her that he had no reason to lie, not about Amelia, or Linda Downs, or detectives. I had Ada drop me at my house, as I didn't wish to retrieve my bike from the shop. If things remained the same, I would be wading through snow in the morning, no matter what. As sleep flowed over my brain, I had a suspicion that I was missing something, and I had no idea what.
As I walked to Happy Blendings the next morning, I wondered what the walk would look like without snow. It seemed as if I had been trudging through the snow for years. Sometimes, I wondered about my own ability to accept new surroundings. I supposed that the human brain adapted to new environments quickly. Part of the old hunter/gatherer thing. A change of address had to be accepted without question.
David didn’t meet me at the door, and for a moment I thought he might have given up his quest for the perfect sports smoothie. I needn’t have worried. Moments later, he slipped me a smoothie that smelled like burnt rubber and looked like lemon juice. One sip and it was back in his hand. I shook my head.
“Blast,” he said. “I was hoping.”
“You’ll find it,” I said. “Are we ready?”
He nodded, and I turned on the signs and unlocked the door. The rosy cheeks and runny noses of Goodsprings’ faithful wandered into the shop. The new day had begun. I was no closer to solving the murder than I had been the day before.
Work is a good thing for the mind. It forces a person to concentrate on what has to be done, not on some strange “maybe” question. David and I worked, and I filled more special orders than usual. It seemed as if half the town was coming down with some case of the flu—mild in some, more pronounced in others. I blended many smoothies that varied to the needs of the customer. At one point, Mara arrived, and she, for one, was not suffering. She ordered hot tea, saying she had a column to finish, and she was getting no vibes from her house. A change of landscape might be exactly what she needed. That suited me, as I had someone to chat with, once the pre-lunch lull arrived. With my own cup, I settled in with her.
“What’s the column about?” I asked.
“The murder, what else?” Mara answered.
“Solve it?”
She laughed. “That’s your job. In fact, I’m not really working on a solution. I’m trying to make it really spooky, really strange, told from a first-person point of view. You know, I’m standing there, staring as you bend over the body, feeling for a pulse.”
“And not finding one,” as I recall.
“I know. I’ve been sitting here, trying to visualize exactly what happened. Trying to smell the smells, hear the sounds. I’m trying to get back into that room. I can see you, pressing your fingers against that white neck. Do you remember?”
I thought for a moment. “I do. I mean, I sort of remember. You know, it was kind of an emotional moment.”
“Tell me about it. I’m trying to capture that for my column.”
“I was there. I remember thinking that such a smooth neck shouldn’t belong to a dead person. And the skin was cool. Not warm, like a live person.”
“Wait,” Mara said. “You said the skin was smooth? Unmarred?”
“Exactly. Well, I’m pretty sure it was like that.”
“But I thought the detectives said there were puncture wounds, and some bleeding.”
I shook my head. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“Now that you mention it, I don’t either. But it had to have been. Or maybe it was on the other side of her neck.”
“No, that wouldn’t make sense. She was on the side of the bed. No one would reach across to stab her.”
“But we must be wrong. After all, half the people in town think the puncture wounds came from a vampire.”
“We have to call,” I said. “Ada or Ethan will be able to help.”
“You do it,” Mara said. “They’re friendlier with you.”
“They’re friends to all of us. But I’ll do it.”
I managed to get Ada on the line, and I explained the problem Mara and I were having, how we remember Linda’s neck being smooth, not showing puncture wounds.
“There were definitely puncture wounds,” Ada said. “As you faced the body, they were clearly visible. Perhaps, it was too dark when you first got there.”
“No,” I said. “I felt for a pulse. If there had been blood, I would have got some on my fingers. I couldn’t miss that.”
“I wasn’t there when you discovered the body. Sometimes, people think they see something they don’t. It happens all the time. Eyewitnesses make up the things they think should be there. Get used to seeing a certain something, and it’s there, even when it isn’t.”
“Okay, just for my own peace of mind, you’re saying there were definitely puncture wounds and blood.”
“According to the coroner. And frankly, they were there when Ethan and I arrived.”
“Well, if they weren’t there when I took her pulse, and they were there when you arrived, how did the get there?”
“The nurses,” Ada said.
“The nurses,” I repeated. “They tried to revive Linda, or so I thought.”
“If they did, then they would know about the puncture marks. I think perhaps I will have to bring them back in for further questioning.”
“Let me know how it works out?”
“Why don’t you come and watch? In fact, bring Tessa and Mara too. They were there in the room, correct?”
“We’ll be there.”
“Who’s we?” Mara asked as I killed th
e connection.
“The three smartest women in Goodsprings.”
“Shoot, I was hoping you and I could be there.”
“Very funny,” I said.
One-way glass separated us from the Ethan, Ada, and the nurses that they brought in one at a time.
“I wasn’t first,” Tanya said.
“Do they know we’re here,” Mara asked.
“No,” Tessa replied. “They can’t hear us either.”
“That’s good to know,” Mara said. “Although, I don’t need the speaker to hear them.”
“Don’t brag,” Tessa said. “It’s unbecoming.”
“And disappear,” Mara added.
“You’re pushing it girlfriend,” Tessa said. “Let’s just listen.”
Mara chuckled. Tessa stared. I tried to listen, as the detectives led Tanya through the sequence of events. According to Tanya, she arrived with Helen and Misty, and it was Misty who examined the body first.
“I was sort of herding people at that point,” Tanya said. “Those nice women from the smoothie place and the grill were hanging about, and well, in a medical situation, we need space.”
“Medical situation?” Tessa asked. “What medical situation? The woman was dead. Any fool could see that.”
“I think Helen was in the bathroom,” Tanya said. “You know, towels and water. It’s what we think of first.”
“After Misty, did you examine the body?” Ada asked.
“I did,” Tanya said. “And the puncture marks were clearly visible. Her death was pretty obvious.”
“Lots of bleeding?”
“Not externally. My guess is it was mostly internal. That happens with a puncture wound that nicks an artery.”
I shook my head and looked at Tessa. “Is that way you remember it?”
“Puncture marks?” Tessa asked. “Her neck was as smooth as a baby’s butt.”
“Not quite my analogy,” Mara said. “But I agree.”
“All right,” Ethan said. “The way you remember is the three women who found the body. Then, Misty, then you. Then...”
“Helen. She didn’t need the towels, as the woman was dead. But she looked anyway. We all agreed.”
The detectives finished up with Tanya and led her out. Then, they brought in Helen.
“What do you think?” Tessa asked. “Same story?”
“Think they rehearsed?” Mara asked.
“I don’t see why,” I said. “They certainly weren’t on the video.”
“Whoa,” Tessa said. “Are you saying they think we settled on the same story? To protect ourselves from murder?”
“If you were investigating, wouldn’t you think that?”
“But they know us,” Tessa said.
“All the more reason,” Mara said with a laugh.
“Ha, ha,” Tessa said. “I think I liked you better before the cure.”
Mara’s smile disappeared. “That really isn’t funny,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” Tessa said.
“Got ya,” Mara said with a smile. “I’m fine now.”
“Stop it you two,” I said. “Let’s listen to Helen.”
Tessa shrugged and Mara giggled. I turned to the questioning.
“That’s how I remember it,” Helen said.
“Misty was the first to check. Then, Tanya, then you.”
“Yes.”
“And you remember puncture marks? Some bleeding?”
“Yes, deep puncture marks, and a little bleeding. And no pulse. We all know how to check for that. It wasn’t there.”
As we listened to Helen, I could see why Tessa would ask about the nurses coordinating their stories. Of course, if that was what happened, one would expect their stories to match.
“So, far,” Tessa said. “We’re zero for two.”
“They both said the same thing—puncture wounds and little blood.”
“Let’s see what Misty has to say,” I said. “She might back us up.”
“Not likely,” Mara said.
“Not a chance,” Tessa added.
While we were hoping for a different tale, we didn’t get one. Misty, behind a large water bottle, was straight down the same line. She noticed the puncture marks and the blood and found no pulse. Simple and directly.
“Now what?” Tessa asked. “And don’t try to tell me that the puncture wounds appeared by magic.”
“Actually, I was thinking Amelia must have slipped past us and delivered the blow while we weren’t looking,” Mara said.
“I wouldn't put it past the old hag,” Tessa said.
“We are at a loss,” I said. “I know what I saw, what I felt. How could Linda’s neck go from smooth and dry to punctured and bloody in the wink of an eye?”
“Bear with me,” Ethan said over the speaker. “But we have a discrepancy between your memory and the memory of the women who touched the body before you.”
“They’re lying,” Misty said.
“But you don’t know what they said,” Ada came back.
“It doesn’t matter. They’re lying. If they say anything different from me, they’re lying. I’m guessing they killed that poor woman and are now lying to get out of it.”
“We know those women,” Ethan said. “They are respected members of the community. To my recollection, they have never been in trouble with the law.”
“Like I have?!” Misty exploded. “I’m well-respected too, and I don’t get in trouble either!”
“Please, calm down,” Ada said. “No one is accusing you of anything. We’re simply trying to marry your experiences with the others.”
“That’s not how I hear it,” Misty said. “I hear you saying those three are telling the truth because they’re your friends. I’m not a friend, so I must be lying.”
“Let’s start over,” Ethan said. “I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this.”
“Like hell,” Misty said.
“Please,” Ada said.
Misty unscrewed the top off her water bottle, as if to drink it. But she didn’t. Instead she stood and doused the detectives with the water. Then, Misty jumped back, as if expecting some sort of reaction.
“What was that?” Mara asked.
“A meltdown,” Tessa said.
“That’s insane,” I said.
As I watched, Ethan and Ada stood, wet and more than a little bit unhappy.
Ethan pulled out his cuffs. “Hands behind your back,” he said.
“Why? I didn’t do anything,” Misty said.
“In case you didn’t know, you just assaulted a police officer. That will land you in jail, at least for one night.”
Ethan was efficient as he cuffed the nurse and led her out the door. Ada watched before she grabbed the bottle and left the room. A moment later, she stepped in with us.
“What was that about?” Mara asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” Ada said. “She acted like the water was going to melt us. You know like the witch in the Wizard of Oz.”
“That was not a good scene for me,” Tessa said. “I know the evil witch was filled with black magic, but still, no one wants to see a witch die...even a green one.”
I thought about reminding Tessa of Lily, who was still a frog, but it didn’t seem like the time. That was when I smelled Ada, her clothes, and the smell was peculiar. It reminded me of something.
“Do you mind?” I asked and pointed to the bottle. “Something about the water smells familiar.”
“It’s not a smoothie, Sam,” Tessa said. “Just water.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Just water.”
“Knock yourself out,” Ada said.
“You need a water bottle?” Tessa asked as we left the police station. “I have a few.”
“I have water bottles. What I need is a reason why Misty lied.”
“You’re sure she lied?”
“Come on, Tessa, you were there.”
“I was, but it’s like Ethan says. Sometimes, you don’t see what�
�s there because you don’t expect to see it.”
“Call me in the morning,” I said and hurried away.
As soon as I reached the shop, I sent David home. Then, I closed up and rode the bike to my house. I was getting used to the pattern. Lots of snow overnight, melting during the day, more snow the next night. The first night it didn’t snow, I wouldn’t know what to do.
I set the water bottle on the kitchen table and studied it a second. I sniffed, and I knew the smell. As an earth witch, I was familiar with a number of scents. But while I was familiar with the smells, I would need a bit of magic to actually identify them. It would require a spell to unlock the traces that I needed to examine. I stared a moment.
Flower, tree, fruit, and smell.
Blossom, bloom, and herb, please tell
Where you came from. If you do,
Tell me now, tell me true.
The dregs in the bottle separated into several streams of fog. And the fogs came out one by one. I leaned over and sniffed the individual streams. As I did, my trained nose detected lavender, hyssop, meadowsweet, cloves, rosemary, horehound, and wild garlic. It wasn’t that the individual scents were strange, it was the combination. It reminded me of something I had read, something that wasn’t in the usual list of recipes. In other words, it was rare, and that generally meant there was a reason why it was rare.
One thing I was certain of was that I had never used this recipe. I would have recognized it. But my grandmother had built a library of books filled with recipes, some common, some exceedingly rare. My job, a job I couldn’t just pass over, was to find the recipe in one of those books. But finding it was only the first part of the quest. Learning what the concoction did was paramount. Misty had thrown it at the Gallaghers for a reason.
Tea was my poison of choice when I had to stay up. I brewed a big cup and set to work.
Unlike my grandmother, I was not a neat freak. When I pulled a book from a shelf, it wasn’t guaranteed to be replaced in the exact same spot. Hence, when I was looking for something, I had to go by feel. Did this book feel right? If it did, I’d go through it. If it didn’t, I’d find another book. My hit-and-miss method worked either exceedingly well, or hardly at all. It was the luck of the draw.
This night I wasn’t lucky.
A Drop in the Potion Page 9
