A Hex for Danger

by Esme Addison

  Her friend was all smiles and looking professional in a fitted two-piece skirt suit. She stopped when she saw Alex, the friendly expression sliding off her face. “What are you doing here?”

  “Don’t worry—I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m here to see Dylan.”

  Celeste relaxed a bit. “Discussing me?” Alex shook her head. “Then what?”

  “Totally unrelated to you. But you and I do need to talk later. I’m worried about you.”

  Celeste lowered her voice, grin still in place. “I’m worried about me too. But I don’t want you and Mr. Wesley discussing the investigation, if that’s what you’re planning. This is my job. I’ve worked hard to be here, and I don’t want to lose it. Don’t ruin it for me, please.”

  Shocked, Alex stared at her. “Celeste Thomas, I’m not trying to ruin anything. I’m trying to help you.”

  Celeste gave her a worried look but nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m on edge, okay. New job. A boyfriend I can’t trust. And a murder investigation. I’m trying to hold it all together, that’s all. I really want to impress the Wesleys, Alex.”

  “And you’re doing a great job. I understand—no more talk about the investigation, okay?” Celeste nodded, a look of gratitude on her face. She looked over Alex’s shoulder. “Here comes Mr. Wesley.”

  Alex watched her join the group, and they went to the elevator together.

  Dylan greeted her with a warm smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I have some questions.”

  His smile stayed in place. “Don’t you always?”

  She smiled at him. “Indulge me.”

  He shook his head as a slow grin appeared on his face. “What do you want to know?”

  “I heard that you’ve purchased four companies, one of which is Tarheel Defense.”

  “Yes. So?”

  “Do you really need four more companies?”

  He laughed. “It’s business.”

  “Those poor people. All out of work. So, you’re a corporate raider now. Dylan, I’m surprised.”

  His grin wasn’t a happy one. “Why, you think I’m better than that?”

  Alex ignored his question. “What about the employees who will lose their jobs.”

  “They’ve all been well compensated and have access to job placement resources. Some will come work for Wesley.” His gaze sharpened. “Is this really why you came to see me?”

  “You’re leaving Pro-Tek and Bio-Tek open. Why? Because it’s your friend’s company?”

  “Let’s take a walk on the grounds.” He led her though a back entrance, and they were in a beautiful park-like landscape with lush green grass, strategically placed trees, bright flowers, and walking paths. Employees dressed down in athletic gear were walking and running the paths. Outdoor equipment like chin bars and monkey bars spotted the run trails. Some staff had laptops on picnic tables, and a few people swung in hammocks, reading books. It was certainly a forward-thinking campus.

  He stopped in front of a wrought iron bench beside a rock-lined creek and indicated that she should sit.

  Trees provided shade, though dappled sunlight still fell all around them, and the scent of honeysuckle and lilac perfumed the air. The Wesley campus was beautiful and peaceful, and Alex could see why Celeste enjoyed working there.

  “Bryce called and told me you tracked him down and cross-examined him over eggs and bacon this morning.”

  “That’s not exactly how it happened. He wanted to talk herbs.”

  A gentle smile played on his lips, but his voice had an edge. “I don’t appreciate you grilling my friends.”

  But Alex ignored his tone and returned his smile with one of her own. “He said he was with you when Neve was killed. Is that true? Are you his alibi?”

  Dylan gazed at the greenery around him. “Not exactly.”

  Aha! Alex thought. I knew it. “Tell me.”

  He dipped his head downward. “It doesn’t mean anything, but we stepped outside to talk business. It was loud inside, so I went to the porch.” He shrugged. “While we were outside, I got a call and asked for privacy. He said no problem, told me he’d walk around to the gardens to give me privacy.”

  “Why didn’t he go back inside?”

  “I don’t know. Probably the crowds. He was never what you’d call a social butterfly,” Dylan laughed. “But after college he joined the army and was deployed a few times overseas. When he came back, he just didn’t like being in crowds. I didn’t ask why. So, it wasn’t weird that he didn’t want to go back inside.”

  “But you don’t know.”

  “No, I don’t. But I know him. I’ve known him for years. He’s not a murderer. People who spend their life trying to discover new medicines to end pain and suffering don’t usually go around killing people.”

  “And you’ve also recently acquired his company and brought him into Wesley Inc. You certainly don’t need the bad press … You lied to protect him?”

  “Sure.” He stood. “I didn’t tell the whole truth. But he didn’t do it. I doubt he had time.”

  “That’s not for you to determine.” Alex’s voice rose slightly. “Did you know Celeste is considered the number-one suspect?” She snapped her mouth close. She hadn’t meant to say that.

  His eyes widened. “No, I didn’t know that. Because …?”

  “Because you gave your friend an alibi, for starters. Will you let Jack know?”

  He stood. “I need to talk to Bryce first. But yes, I will.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.”

  “Because you want to help Celeste?”

  “Because I want to do the right thing.”

  And Alex exhaled. Maybe now Jack would begin to look at someone else and give her more time to find Neve’s killer.

  * * *

  Alex had time before she had to be at the apothecary, so she headed to the coffee shop. After ordering a blueberry biscuit and a large latte with an extra shot of espresso, she settled at a table in the back of the room and began typing on her laptop. She needed to find out more about Bryce.

  She knew that the secret Neve had found out about was the mermaid gene, but she needed more information.

  She found several articles profiling Bryce as an up-and-coming businessman, a couple detailing his takeover of the business, a few from his time in the army.

  She tried to find anything on the mermaid gene, but all she could find were references to The Little Mermaid. Maybe it wasn’t even real. Maybe Neve had made it up so she could make her discussions more interesting. And then, Alex found something. It was small and on an unassuming blog called Bizarre Bellamy Bay—where life is stranger than fiction.

  There were no images or bright colors. The blog looked like something from the late 1990s, but there were archives going back ten years, cataloging the strange goings-on in a small town with apparently over ten thousand followers. Alex vaguely remembered hearing about this blog—maybe from Minka?

  The post in question, titled “Are Mermaids Real?,” stated that a trusted insider source had provided information on many occasion, told the blogger that there was a company who believed in mermaids, believed they’d found a series of gene mutations that made up what they were calling the “mermaid gene.” And those genes had been narrowed down to Bellamy Bay, among a few other places. The blogger ended the post with the thought-provoking question: Well, readers. Is this fact or fiction?

  Alex read through the hundreds of comments and saw that, although a few commenters expressed skepticism, and at least one commenter wondered if the mermaid festival celebrated a true mermaid heritage, most readers believed it was science and wanted to know the characteristics of a person with the gene. Laughing and shaking her head in wonder, she continued to skim.

  Who are these people who simply believe without proof? she thought to herself. She had proof, and sometimes she still had a hard time believing.

  Alex looked at archives and saw that the
blogger normally added a post once a week on Mondays, and that had been the schedule for years. She wondered why he hadn’t posted anything in the last two weeks. She tried to find contact information for the blog owner. Maybe this person had more information to share. Did they even know Neve had been murdered? If they did, maybe they thought they were in danger as well. Maybe Neve had told the blogger who she was afraid of.

  Alex quickly typed up a message expressing interest in talking further and offering new information about their mutual friend sharing the mermaid tip. She hit “Send” and hoped for the best. But this was definitely the proof Alex needed, showing that Neve had been killed for spilled secrets. Only she couldn’t tell Jack, could she? He wouldn’t believe it.

  Could she tell Dylan? He’d purchased Tarheel Defense—didn’t that mean he was somehow involved?

  No, she’d have to handle this herself.

  * * *

  Alex looked up and saw Pepper walking past the window. She trotted to the front door and waved her in.

  “I was just thinking about you,” the journalist said, entering the shop. She sniffed the air. “The coffee smells so good, and I could use a cup. And I found something you ought to see.”

  “Great. Join me.” Alex pointed to her table.

  After Pepper placed and received her order, she returned to the table, set up her laptop and turned it around to face Alex. Several tabs were open, the first of which was a local Boston newspaper article detailing the latest artwork by Neve. The accompanying photo showed her standing beside several men and women—and Jasper Collins.

  “Wow,” Alex breathed. “The plot thickens.” She wondered if Celeste was on to something when she thought those two had been seeing each other. And Jasper had lied—blatantly lied to her face—when he told her he didn’t know Neve before she came to town. Why would he lie unless he had something to hide?

  “But wait, there’s more,” Pepper said in the voice of cheesy late-night commercial narrator. She clicked on the next tab. This time it was an article from a Honolulu art blog featuring a reception for Neve at a pineapple plantation.

  Alex skimmed the article and inhaled sharply. “This event was sponsored by Leviathan Industries.” She turned to look at Pepper and they both spoke at the same time.

  “Montgomery Blue.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “We have three definite suspects,” Alex said.

  “Bryce Greenberg, Jasper Collins, and Montgomery Blue.” She explained Bryce’s lack of alibi and possible motive without going into details about the mermaid gene.

  Pepper took notes on everything and then looked up, her pupils dilated. “Industrial espionage. This is exciting.”

  “So now, I need to talk to Jasper and Montgomery, find out exactly what they’re relationship with Neve was.”

  “I wonder if she was in a relationship with one of these men?” Pepper mused as she chewed on her pen.

  And she was pregnant, Alex thought to herself. Did the father of her child kill her for some reason? Jasper seemed like the most probable candidate. She needed to find out from Celeste exactly why she thought they’d been having an affair.

  “We should take a harder look at Jasper Collins.” And then a thought occurred to Alex. “When you get back to work, can you check your archives for any photographs of Jasper’s office?”

  “Sure, I can check. What are we looking for?”

  “I’m not sure. But something that could’ve been used as a murder weapon.”

  Pepper scribbled something on her notepad, then stood, beginning to pack up. “Sure. I can do that. I have a deadline for an article I’m working on, so it may not be until tomorrow. Can it wait that long?”

  “Sure. I guess Jack won’t arrest Celeste by tomorrow. I have another question for you. Have you ever heard of a blog called Bizarre Bellamy Bay?”

  Pepper snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, sure—the ramblings of some sci-fi enthusiast who lives in his mother’s basement.”

  Alex wasn’t sure that assessment was far off, but still, at least some of the information on the blog was based in truth. “Any idea who’s writing it?”

  Pepper screwed up her face. “Not a real journalist, that’s for sure,” she scoffed. “Thanks to the internet, anyone thinks they can be a reporter. But it’s not true. I have degrees in journalism. I interned with the biggest paper in Atlanta before I returned here, and have researched and reported on tons of events. I’m the real deal, while this person is afraid to show his face.”

  Alex eyed Pepper curiously. She seemed very worked up by this blogger. Almost artificially so. “You’re not the blogger, are you?”

  Laughter sputtered from Pepper’s lips. “Who, me? Of course not. That blogger is practically a fiction writer. I want to win a Pulitzer one day.”

  “But he gets scoops, doesn’t he? People come to him with big stories. I know you want that for yourself. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Okay.” She exhaled loudly. “When I first heard about this blogger, I thought I could find out who was behind it, and make a name for myself.”

  “And?”

  “And I investigated and came up with nothing. I couldn’t find out anything. It was almost like they didn’t actually exist.”

  “Well, of course they exist. Just because you—”

  “I’m good at my job. I did everything right. I should’ve been able to find him—it bothers me, okay?” Pepper crossed her arms over her chest. “I couldn’t find this stupid blogger, sitting in his underwear in the dark, writing about aliens in his mother’s basement.”

  “Maybe I can help you.”

  Pepper’s green eyes brightened. “Two heads are better than one?” Alex nodded. “And I take the credit, I get the scoop?”

  Alex rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Sure, Pepper. I just want to find out who the blogger is and talk. They may have some insight into something I’m looking into.”

  “What could you possibly be looking into that’s related to the Bizarre Bellamy Bay blogger?” Pepper stared at Alex expectantly and then grinned. “Let me guess—you’re not at liberty to say?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I have a file. I’ll find it for you, okay?”

  Trying not show her excitement, Alex nodded.

  Pepper pushed her phone into her purse. “Okay, now I’m really leaving. We’ll talk soon.”

  Pepper left the shop, and Alex stayed to finish her latte.

  * * *

  It was a little after noon, and the sun was at its zenith. There were a million things running through her mind, and Alex couldn’t think. Whenever she had what her dad called “monkey mind,” a term he’d learned when he began practicing meditation for stress, she ran.

  After a quick stop at home, where she changed into her running gear, added a baseball cap to protect her face, and picked up Athena, she began running toward the beach.

  She was already anticipating the calming rhythmic sound of the waves crashing on the surf. She didn’t listen to music when she ran, instead preferring to hear the sounds of the sea gulls overhead, the splash of the water as it hit the beach, and the whir of the breeze. She ran past downtown, past the police station, and onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. When she came upon a wooden stair that took her up a dune and down to the beach, she stopped for a breather. For her and Athena too, who had been bounding alongside her the entire time.

  Instead of running on the boardwalk, she wanted to jog on the sand. She took her shoes off and placed them under the stairs, took a deep breath and took off, Athena’s leash in hand. While she ran, Athena was good about staying focused on the run and not on the sand crabs scuttling on the sand. They ran uninterrupted for a mile before Alex stopped, hands on knees. There was no one around, so Alex took Athena’s leash off and let her play in the water. The dog ran to and from the water as it ebbed in and out.

  And Alex watched her dog with a smile, always enjoying watching her play at the beach. Athena stopped
dashing about and looked at Alex from about twenty-five yards away, her ears perked up. “What is it, girl?” Alex murmured to herself, knowing her dog couldn’t hear her. But then Athena turned away and went back to tugging on a piece of driftwood she’d claimed.

  Alex began walking again, stopping to stretch out her legs and arms, rolling her neck around when the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She turned around but didn’t see anything. But she did have the distinct feeling that she should retrieve Athena and head back home. It was around two pm but the stretch of beach she was on was deserted. Now that she thought about it, that was strange. Just two hundred feet away she could see the beach was packed with tourists.

  She stopped and stared down the expanse of beach. Something is wrong, she thought as a lump formed in her throat. Her feet felt rooted to the sand, but a voice inside her screamed, Leave. Leave now. Smiling and speaking in soothing tones so she wouldn’t spook Athena, she grabbed the leash, attached it to Athena’s collar, and began running the way she came, toward the staircase and her shoes.

  She heard Athena’s low growl first, and then something cold and invisible smacked against her. She moaned on impact. It didn’t hurt exactly, more stung as she felt an icy slipperiness wrap around her body. She couldn’t breathe. She could blink her eyes, but not much otherwise.

  She was frozen in mid-step, with one arm and leg raised in mid-stride, other knee bent. Something, some kind of energy prevented her from moving. She struggled against the invisible bonds, but nothing happened. Alex looked down to see straps of glowing blue energy wrapped around her body. And then she remembered: Bryn had used the same technique to immobilize Stephanie Bennet before Alex had found and saved her.

  A Magical was here.

  Again, she struggled against the restraints as Athena ran around her in circles, her bark deep and forceful. What. The. Heck. How could she get out of this? And who was doing this? She was frozen in place, when she heard a voice in her head. It was telepathic, but she could tell it was male, and its tone was low and insistent.