My jaguar made a feeble attempt to claw to get out, but I shut it down. I couldn’t rely on my emotions now. I had to focus on logic instead.
Saldor cleared his throat. “Miss Holmes is right, and if you recall, Rollins, Morant didn’t specify the attack happened by a jaguar shifter—she said it looked like an attack she’d seen once before, which ended up being a jaguar attack.” He looked at me rather than Rollins while he spoke, his grey eyes kind.
It was good to have at least one person on our side.
“Seems to me, Mr. Rollins,” I said as I turned back to the snake shifter, “that you’re jumping to conclusions. Anyone with eyes can see this looks like an animal attack. But there are so many options. Any shifter class from the pantera genus could be responsible. Or it could be a witch who summoned a catlike demon to do her bidding. Or maybe an animal escaped from the local zoo and attacked the school. It’s unlikely, but you can’t rule out a possibility simply because it’s unlikely.”
Rollins stared at me without offering any kind of retort. I could’ve imagined it, but I thought the corner of his mouth twitched a little. Some of the other Council members looked intrigued, and most were still trying to recover from looking at the gruesome pictures. Unlike the field agents, the ruling body of the Conclave had little or no experience with fieldwork, or with seeing mangled corpses of young girls.
“That is precisely why we brought you here, Miss Holmes,” Saldor said. “We believe that because you yourself are a jaguar shifter, you might be best qualified to solve this case. Also, because of your mother’s status as head of the jaguar clan, we thought it best to keep you both informed.”
“Thank you.” Mother nodded at Saldor and then looked at the other Conclave members. “I’m grateful for the information. While I’m certain whoever committed this outrageous act is certainly not a member of our clan, I’m confident that my daughter will unmask the culprit, and that the murderer of Elise Felton will be punished, and punished harshly.”
A rather dramatic pause followed until Balthy took the lead again. “Miss Holmes will leave for the Waynard Academy first thing tomorrow.”
The idea of going out and travelling instantly put my jaguar in a good mood. It purred, almost like a cat, and lay down on its side, ready for a nap. My inner jaguar loved to travel. I usually liked travelling, too, but not so much when my travels involved solving murders of teenage girls.
“We’ve arranged a ticket with the Eurostar, and one of our contacts will meet her at the Academy. You’ll be enrolled as a student so as not to cause suspicion while we investigate the case. None of the students or staff will be informed of your arrival or why you’re there. We don’t want to raise suspicion, in case the jag—” He smiled in a fake apology. “The person who did this is a student or faculty member at the school.”
“All right.” I nodded at him to let him know I understood.
“Now, as to your supervisor…” He gestured at the girl sitting next to him. Her face was partially hidden behind a mane of long black hair. “Indra Marraux, one of our senior agents, will act as your supervisor for this case. She has an exemplary track record, and she’s young enough to enroll in the school as well and not stand out.”
Indra barely acknowledged me. She gave a short nod in my direction and then looked back at Rollins. She was one of the people I’d earlier identified as a snake shifter, and her better-than-you attitude only confirmed my suspicions.
Great. I’d have a snake breathing down my neck during this entire case.
“As everyone here understands, this case is delicate and must be treated with the utmost secrecy,” Saldor said. “No one outside this circle may be told. This counts in most cases, but even more so now. The Gathering of Clans is only three days away, and we can’t allow it to be disrupted, not by anything.”
Heads nodded in approval, and soft murmuring erupted from the other Conclave members, but most seemed to agree with Saldor’s stance. I certainly agreed… Even more, a nagging thought in the back of my mind told me that if someone wanted to disrupt the upcoming gathering, murder most foul was the best possible way to do so.
Chapter Four
Mother had been on the phone for over an hour, talking to some of her lieutenants, all of them whom had fancy royal titles I couldn’t bother to remember. They acted like lieutenants, so I called them that, and she was the general of our little jaguar shifter army. She was as upset by the news of Elise Felton being killed as I suspected she would be. Royals getting killed was rare, even rarer when it happened at a boarding school, of all places.
I, on the other hand, didn’t know what to feel. My jaguar was pacing about nervously inside me, but I stayed put on the couch, unable to move. Of course, I was sad about what had happened to Elise. I didn’t know her that well, but what’d happened to her was the kind of thing you wouldn’t wish on your own enemy. Whoever had done that to her deserved to be punished, and I wanted to help catch the culprit.
Catch him and make him pay. Something I hadn’t been able to do with Mannix.
She finally hung up the phone and walked into the living room. I pretended to be invested in the e-book I was reading on my laptop, but the whole time I’d been fretting about the case instead.
“Are you hungry?” Mother asked. She leaned against the doorway, wrinkles marring her pretty features. She looked as haggard as a freshly raised zombie.
“Not really. You look tired.”
She sighed and moved to sit next to me on the couch. “It’s been a long day. I don’t think the murder of Elise Felton is a coincidence, this close to the Gathering, and neither do my advisors.” She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure if you should go.”
“To England?” I frowned while my jaguar roared at being told what to do. My jaguar side certainly didn’t like being bossed around. “Why?”
“It sounds dangerous.” She shook her head and leaned back in the seat. She looked a million years old at that moment, carrying the weight of the world. “Not only does it sound dangerous, I’m pretty sure it is. You’re a royal, Marisol. You’re my only heir.” She smiled sadly at me, and I wondered if it was the thought of having just one heir that made her sad or the thought of something happening to me.
Seeing her like that made my heart hurt. I didn’t want to make her sad, but it seemed like whatever I did, it always ended up hurting her.
“I’ve always…tolerated you working as a detective for the Conclave. I don’t quite think it suitable for royals, but the Conclave was your father’s thing, and well, if you want to continue it, so be it, but this… There aren’t any other royals in the Conclave, Marisol, at least not as field agents, and there’s a reason for that. It’s just too dangerous. These missions, these murder cases. Especially this one. I want you to sit this one out.”
“Sit this one out?” My frown deepened. “I can’t do that. They’ve just allowed me this new chance. This last chance. I can’t just go back on that and waste this opportunity.”
While human-me could stay calm, jaguar-me could not. The jaguar growled in frustration and narrowed its eyes at me, making it quite clear that we were going to do this, even if it went against Mother’s demands.
“I have a bad feeling about it, Marisol.” Mother crinkled her nose. “I don’t trust this. And you’d be all by yourself in a foreign country and…”
“You’re growing sentimental, Mother,” I joked. I didn’t want her to continue talking because she was scaring me. Mother wasn’t like this. She wasn’t scared of anything. She didn’t worry about me because she knew I was self-reliant and I would be fine. I was already convinced something about this case was fishy, but to have her say it out loud, confirming my suspicions, made everything ten times as bad.
“I’m not sentimental. I’m worried. You’re only seventeen, and you’re still my daughter. I don’t want to lose you, not like…”
She didn’t have to finish her sentence for me to know what she meant. She didn’t want to lose me the way her s
ister, my aunt, had lost her daughter. The last time I had seen my aunt was during Amaranth’s funeral, and I’d never seen a woman more wrecked. Broken, haunted, destroyed. The thought of my own mother having to go through the same thing…
Don’t go there, Marisol. I pushed the thoughts about Amaranth back behind that door in my mind and focused on my mother and the here and now.
“I know.” I tightened my lips. “But I can’t give this up. You know how I get when I have a case. I’d just go crazy trying to solve it anyway. And that girl, she deserves justice for what happened to her. She deserves to have her murderer punished.” While logic told me the case was fishy, especially considering Balthazar Rollins had already used it to try and frame jaguars for the murder, my emotions wouldn’t let me give up. My emotions, and if I was completely honest, my guilt, too.
“They can send someone else to solve the case.”
“I’m their best bet. And not just because I’m a Holmes, but because I’m a shifter, too. You have to let me do this.” I always got like this when I had a case, passionate to the extreme, willing to do whatever it took to bring it to an end. I couldn’t let any case go unsolved. Not just because the victims deserved justice, although that played a huge role, but also because not solving it made me feel like a failure. It simply wasn’t an option not to solve the case.
And now, after everything Mannix had put me through, my drive to solve this case was a hundred times stronger. I had to do it, to prove to myself that I could still do this, that I was still a Holmes, that I could still trust myself. If I ever wanted to get over the guilt I felt toward my cousin, the anger I felt toward myself…then I had no other option.
She took a deep breath. “Fine. But first sign of trouble, you’re heading back home. And you’ll be back in time for the ball at the Gathering.”
When I didn’t respond right away, she grabbed my chin and turned my head so I would face her. “Promise me, Marisol.”
I bit my lip. I didn’t want to make this promise because chances were high I’d break it anyway, but she would never let me go if I didn’t. Ever since Amaranth, Mother had two sides to her: a cold, disappointed side that showed whenever she thought about what happened or whenever I let her down, and an overprotective side that worried that what happened to my cousin would happen to me. “All right, fine. I promise.”
“Good.” She let go of my chin and sighed while she got up. “How about McDonalds? I have a craving for greasy fries and hamburgers.”
“McDonalds?” I couldn’t believe my ears. It had been at least four years since Mother had set foot inside a fast-food restaurant. While I enjoyed a greasy cheeseburger every now and then, my jaguar absolutely loved fast food and started drooling at the thought. “Sure,” I said hastily before she could change her mind.
“Don’t look so surprised. I do indulge myself sometimes,” she said with a wink. “Besides, you’re heading off to England tomorrow, and I want to spoil you before you leave. What do you want?”
“A Big Mac, fries, and a Coke.”
“All right. I’ll ring for the order.”
“Hold on.” I put up a hand to stop her. “Supersize that. I’m starving.”
Mother disappeared into the office to grab her cell phone, and I leaned back on the couch. My temples throbbed, and I wished I could shake the feeling that something about this case was, undoubtedly, undeniably, very, very wrong.
And no amount of Big Macs would make me feel better.
Chapter Five
I boarded the Eurostar—the high-speed train going from Calais to London—early the next morning. My suitcase was heavier than usual. I was used to packing light, but because of the weather in the United Kingdom, Mother insisted I bring along some extra coats. And since I had no idea how long I would be there, she insisted I pack more than usual. I’d promised I’d come back for the ball she’d organized during the Gathering of Clans, but if I hadn’t solved the case by then, chances were I’d have to head back to Great Britain afterward. I secretly hoped I would miss the Gathering of Clans and the ball altogether, but of course I hadn’t voiced that out loud, at least not in Mother’s presence.
I dragged the suitcase on board the train and went to my assigned seat, venturing through several compartments. When I reached my seat, I groaned when I spotted Indra already sitting there.
“Good morning.” She barely looked up at me and right away focused back on the folder in her hands. “This is the case file,” she explained, “so I can brief you on what the Conclave knows.”
“Right.” I didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “Brief me?” I’d never been briefed before; one of the Conclave representatives had always deposited the folder straight in my lap for me to interpret and do what I did best: deduct things ordinary people missed. “You’re joking.”
My jaguar wasn’t too pleased with her choice of words, either, as it narrowed its eyes at her and growled. She didn’t like snakes to being with, didn’t like their sly, cunning nature—it totally went against the nature of a jaguar who’d rather just attack their enemies head on than stab them in the back.
I dumped the suitcase on the empty seat next to me and sat down, staring at her pointedly. Without the presence of the other snakes, she looked a lot less impressive. She was small and willowy, with an elfin figure, small nose, and narrow green eyes. While she didn’t look very remarkable, snakes didn’t rely on muscles and strength to defend themselves. They relied on their intelligence and cunning.
“I’m not joking.” She scrunched her nose indignantly as if the idea of her telling a joke was the silliest thing she’d ever heard. “I’m here as your supervisor, and I intend to act and behave that way, regardless of your reputation.”
“You don’t have to be so stuck up about it,” I muttered. “You’re what, nineteen or something?”
“I’m eighteen. And you’re seventeen. Point being?”
“Point being: you don’t have to act all high and mighty.” I crossed my arms. “You’re only one year older than I am.”
Indra stayed quiet for a moment, then leaned over toward me. “I’m your supervisor, and you’ll have to learn to deal with it, whether you like it or not.” She patted the folder on her lap. “Now, can we cut to the chase? I don’t have all day.”
“Very well.” I dragged out the words reluctantly. I much preferred working solo, but there was no escaping her, at least not right now, while we were stuck on the train. When we got to the Academy, I might be able to hatch up a plan to ditch her…
“Elise Felton, seventeen years old, leopard shifter from the royal Felton family. She’d been enrolled in the Waynard Academy since she was twelve, so four years. Model student, straight A’s. Practiced athletics and tennis.” She showed me a picture of Elise Felton. Gorgeous light brown hair, straight white teeth—she could’ve just come from a top model photo shoot. The few times I’d seen her in real life, she’d always been friendly and polite. From the picture, she looked like a genuine, nice person. And genuine, nice people deserved to be killed least of all.
I swallowed hard, thinking about Amaranth and how nice she was…and how she hadn’t deserved to be killed, either. “Enemies?”
“None. Police already talked to over a dozen students in her class, and no one had any issues with her, not any of them or anyone they knew of. She was loved by everyone. I have the witness reports here. You can check them later.” Indra gave a wry smile.
“Thanks for trusting me to read those on my own,” I said sarcastically. “Any jealous exes? Is she the sole inheritor of a giant fortune? There must be something. People don’t get killed over nothing.”
Indra glanced down at the file before she spoke. “Nope and nope. Never dated, too busy with academics, if her friends are to be believed. And her family was loaded, but she has three brothers and two sisters. Large family, no grandparents left, parents are only in their forties, so an upcoming inheritance isn’t likely.”
“Hmm.” I scratch
ed my chin, a nervous habit I had whenever I was thinking something through. “Anything else?”
“Here are pictures of her parents. Michael and Gina Felton.” She handed me the pictures. “Both were on a trip to Australia when it happened. They have several bodyguards who were present with them at the time, so they definitely have an alibi. Her one sister, Reyna Felton, goes to Waynard Academy, too. The others have all graduated. All have alibis, but those are included in the police report, if you want to check it.”
“Does Reyna have an alibi?”
Indra shook her head thoughtfully. “Yes and no. She was asleep in her dorm room, but her roommate is a koala shifter.”
I groaned. Koalas were notorious for sleeping up to fifteen hours a day and resting about five more. If you were rooming with a koala shifter, you could throw a house party and invite fifty people over, and she’d still sleep right through it.
“So basically, her alibi is no alibi.”
“There’s no motive, though,” Indra reminded me. “The two sisters got along great by all accounts. Best friends, shared a room, even dressed the same.”
“Twins?”
Indra checked the papers. “Yes.”
“Isn’t that weird, though? Dressing up in the same clothes when you’re not children anymore? I thought it was something only kids did.”
Indra shrugged. “I don’t have a sister, so I don’t know. Anyway, back to the facts. Elise Felton was killed either on the night of September 14 or on the morning of September 15. She was last seen by her friend, Wyatt Johnson. He told police officers he last saw Elise in the library. He’s a prefect and in charge of locking up the library. She had told him she was working on a paper.”
A Study In Shifters Page 4
