Heists and Homicides

by Lily Webb

  “Zoe?” Mueller prompted.

  “Yeah, I heard you. I’ll behave,” I said.

  “You’d better. This one is serious,” Mueller said, his eyes flashing. Yeah, like I didn’t already know that.

  “Go home and get some rest, Zoe. We’ll take care of everything from here. I’ll call you if I need your help,” Mueller said, but I knew he wouldn’t. Had it not been for all the times I’d interfered with investigations in Moon Grove, the MGPD would still be sitting on half a dozen cold cases — and I doubted this one would be any different.

  “Right, yeah, okay,” I said as Grandma sidled up next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

  “C’mon, Sugar, let’s get outta here,” she whispered. “Let the police do their jobs.”

  “She’s right. Take care of yourselves. I’m glad neither of you were injured,” Mueller said and with a nod, he excused himself to talk to the fairies, leaving me with thoughts buzzing in my head like mosquitos.

  On our way out of the bank, I stole one last glance over my shoulder at the lobby where the fairies had covered Percy with a cloth and Victor was holding Selena in his arms while she sobbed.

  Whether he liked it not, Mueller was going to need my help on this case — and he was going to get it.

  Chapter Four

  “I’m sorry, you want to do what?” Mitch asked, his knuckles white as he gripped his desk in disbelief.

  “You heard me. I want to figure out who was behind this. I mean, the city and government is my beat, why wouldn’t I try to figure out who robbed the bank and why?” I asked.

  Mitch and I had been around the bend more than once since I came in to work that morning. Though he was glad I was okay and made no secret of saying so, he didn’t seem to appreciate my interest in following the story through to its logical conclusion — especially after I told him Mueller forbid me from doing so.

  “Zoe, I don’t know if this hasn’t set in for you yet or what, but whoever tried to rob the bank also nearly killed you,” Mitch said. “I know you have a little bit of an adrenaline addiction, but this one takes the broom.”

  “Yes, nearly killed me, but didn’t succeed. I’m telling you, Mitch, there’s something weird about this whole situation. I mean, seriously, who breaks into a magical bank, holds one of the owners hostage in the vaults, then leaves without taking a single coin?” I asked.

  Of all the things that should’ve been running through my head overnight, the most pressing was that fact: the witch or warlock who’d broken into one of the most valuable vaults in the Bank of Moon Grove and gotten Percy killed in the process hadn’t taken anything.

  “You’re right, that’s bizarre, but I really think this is one to leave to the police — especially since they told you to,” Mitch said. “I mean, put yourself in my shoes, Zoe. If I came to you asking to chase this story, would you say yes?”

  “No, but that’s why I’m glad I’m not in your shoes,” I said and Mitch shook his head.

  “That’s not funny. None of this is funny.”

  “Look, you and I both know that no matter what objections you raise to me chasing the story, I’m not going to stop,” I said. “We’ve been through this enough times now to know how to deal with each other, right?”

  “I’m starting to wonder if I should even bother pretending to be your boss anymore,” Mitch said, his arms thrown in the air.

  “I’m not doing this to get under your skin,” I said. “If I hadn’t been caught in the middle of all this, I think the story would be different. You probably would’ve sent me over there to chase any leads I might find.”

  “That’s totally different. For Lilith’s sake, let me repeat, whoever robbed the bank tried to kill you! How many times do I have to say that before it sinks in?” he asked.

  “You act like it’s uncommon for people to try to kill me,” I said.

  “And yet you still haven’t learned your lesson about sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” Mitch said.

  “I used to think you appreciated that about me. You said so recently, if I remember correctly,” I said and Mitch scowled at me.

  “I hate it when you do that.”

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “Turn my words against me. I only said that because I was trying to help you get out of the funk you’d fallen into, not encourage you to keep getting yourself in trouble,” Mitch said.

  “Well, don’t worry, I don’t ever need any encouragement,” I said.

  “Fine, let’s say I approve you going after the story — which, to be clear, I’m not yet. Hypothetically, what’s your angle? Who are your sources and what are your leads? Do you even have any?” Mitch asked and my heart jumped into my throat. He’d given me an opportunity and I had to make the best of it because it was the only one I’d get.

  “Becker Bloodworth,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “He was in the bank before the robbery started and he had some choice words to share with the management about the loan they’d given him,” I said, thinking back to the way he’d threatened Percy and had to be escorted out by the gargoyles. That didn’t necessarily mean he had anything to do with the robbery, but it certainly didn’t make him look good.

  “He makes wands, right?” Mitch asked.

  “Exactly. Clearly, he has some grasp of advanced magic if he does that for a living, and based on what I saw, whoever robbed the bank definitely had access to advanced magic,” I said.

  “I guess it’s as good a start as any. You know, his shop isn’t far away from the bank either, so that could fit,” Mitch said.

  “Where is it?”

  “It’s at the corner of Crescent and Mirth,” Mitch said. “I’m sure you’ve walked past it more than once since you’ve been here, even if you didn’t know what it was.”

  “You’re right, that isn’t far from the bank,” I said.

  “So, what are you waiting for?” Mitch asked and my pulse doubled.

  “Are you serious? You’re really going to let me run with this?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Mitch asked.

  “Nope. Thank you, Mitch. You won’t be sorry, I promise,” I said. I struggled to put it into words, but there was something about the bank robbery that clawed at me and refused to let go. Of all the various stories and plots I’d covered since moving to Moon Grove, none of them had grabbed me the same way.

  “Don’t thank me yet. You might live to regret this, Zoe,” Mitch said. “Now go, before I change my mind.”

  I jumped up out of the chair in Mitch’s office and walked out without another word. I understood why he was concerned after what happened to me at the bank, this case had become personal. Had someone intentionally sent me a tip to lure me to the bank because they knew it was going to be robbed — and did they hope I would get caught up in the crossfire?

  Of all the questions I had, that was the one I most wanted answered.

  I breezed past my desk and scooped up my things, including my broken wand — maybe while I was there Becker could repair it for me — on my way to the front door of the Messenger. I stepped out into the early afternoon air to walk the few blocks north on Crescent Street toward Mirth Avenue.

  As Mitch said, Bloodworth’s wand shop was at the corner on the left, but it didn’t seem to be open — in fact, judging from the boards hanging in the windows and the grimy stains on the street sign where the name used to be, it was the exact opposite.

  Carefully, I approached the shop, not at all sure what or who might jump out at me. If it was true that Becker was unstable enough to rob the bank of Moon Grove, I couldn’t take any more chances — if he was the robber, the same one who’d tried to kill me, there was no telling whether or not he’d try again.

  From the safety of the sidewalk, I peered inside and noticed someone or something moving. Against my better judgment, I went to the front door and pounded on it. Whoever was inside wouldn’t have been able to miss it.

  Unfortunately for me,
no one answered. The occupant was obviously trying to ignore me, but that didn’t make them look any better in my book. I raised my hand again and pounded on the door once more, harder this time.

  It flung open and the bleary-eyed, mottled face of Becker Bloodworth stared back at me, his beard fluttering in the breeze.

  “What in Lilith’s name do you want?” he snapped, spraying my face with spittle. It took everything I had not to squirm.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Bloodworth, my name’s Zoe Clark. I work for the Moon Grove Messenger and I have a few questions I want to ask you,” I said.

  “I’m not granting interviews,” Becker said and made to close the door.

  “Okay, but I actually also have a broken wand I was hoping you could take a look at,” I said and the door froze mid-swing. Becker peered around it and looked me up and down.

  “What’s wrong with it?” he asked. I rummaged in my bag to pull out the two halves and held them out to him.

  “It’s pretty badly broken. I fell on it yesterday during a scuffle at the bank,” I said, gauging his face for a reaction, but all I got was a pair of furrowed eyebrows.

  “It’s more common than you’d think. That does look like an awfully nice wand, though,” Becker said and in a speedy motion I wouldn’t have guessed he was capable of, he snatched the pieces out of my hands held them to the light. Its insides dangled out, stringy and free in the breeze.

  “It was given to me by Raina Woods. Allegedly it belonged to Lilith herself, but I don’t know how true that is,” I said. Becker stared at me open mouthed.

  “Really?” he gasped.

  “Really,” I said.

  “Please, come in,” Becker said, his voice awed and his attitude changed on a dime as he turned the pieces of my wand over in his hands. He kicked the door open further and stood aside.

  “Thanks. I promise I won’t be too much of a nuisance,” I said, though I knew better than to think I’d be able to honor the promise.

  “Sure you won’t,” Becker said absently and slammed the door closed behind me with his foot. The inside of the dingy shop plunged into darkness, leaving me guessing at its contents and layout as my eyes struggled to adjust.

  Becker, however, seemed to know it like the back of his hand. He weaved through half a dozen work tables, all of them buckling under the weight of overstuffed boxes. At the back of the shop, Becker waved his hand and a light flickered on over the largest of the tables built into the wall, bathing its contents in light.

  I stepped to the table and took a glance across it. Strange tools I didn’t recognize and pieces of what appeared to be random junk littered the surface, and it occurred to me that I had no idea what it took to actually make a wand, much less what was inside one.

  “You’ve got a lot of boxes lying around here. Are you going somewhere?” I asked.

  “Yes, out of business,” Becker quipped with his back to me as he fiddled with the pieces of my wand. I had to appreciate his blunt honesty.

  “Why’s that?” I asked. Becker glanced over his shoulder, his beard spilling over it, and scoffed at me.

  “I think you of all people ought to know the answer to that,” Becker said. “You were there yesterday at the bank. You saw what happened, and I’m sure you’ve put the pieces together by now.”

  “Does that have anything to do with why you’re closing your shop?”

  “It has everything to do with it,” Becker said, again with his back to me. I had no idea what he was doing to my wand, but he was an expert so I left him to it. I leaned against one of the tables, careful not to knock anything down, and waited a few moments before trying to press forward.

  “You know, Percy Thornheart died yesterday,” I said, testing the waters.

  “So I heard. Maybe karma exists after all,” Becker snapped. Who would say that about someone who had been killed as a hostage in a robbery? Clearly, there was bad blood between them — I knew that after their heated exchange at the bank.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  “Look around, Zoe. Do you really think this shop is closing because I wanted it to?” Becker asked, waving his hand over his head. “The answer is no. This shop is my life’s work, what I’ve been doing for as long as I can remember. It’s only closing because I can’t afford to keep it open anymore.”

  “What happened?”

  “Percy Thornheart, that’s what happened,” Becker spat.

  “I don’t understand. Where does he enter the picture?”

  “Business has been slow thanks to all the chaos going on in this town lately,” Becker said. “Unluckily for me, the downturn happened after I took out a loan to expand the shop.”

  “Expand it to do what?”

  “Wandmaking alone doesn’t pay the bills like it used to,” Becker said. Something popped and sizzled on the table, and I held my breath while hoping he hadn’t done further damage to my wand.

  But when he turned around, holding it in one piece again and twirling it between his fingers, for a moment I wondered if he was a true miracle worker. The wand was like new again and there wasn’t any lingering sign of the split.

  I rushed forward and took it into my hands. Sparks showered from its tip the same way it had the first time I held it. Becker smirked at me and nodded as he toyed with his overgrown beard.

  “No wonder you came into possession of this wand. It likes you,” he said. “I’ve always said it’s the wand that chooses the witch, not the other way around.”

  “Thank you so much. What do I owe you for this?” I asked, reaching into my bag for my wallet.

  “It’s on the house. It’s not like anything you could pay me now would make my debts go away,” Becker said.

  “But robbing a bank might help,” I said, only half joking. Becker scowled at me.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with that, no matter what you might think of my behavior yesterday,” he said. “I know I look like a crazy old fool to you and everyone else, but I would never do anything like that. I’ve given my time and talent to this community my entire life.”

  I gazed into his beady eyes, which were almost lost to the forest that was his beard, and was surprised to find tears glistening. The poor man was devastated and trying not to let it show; I didn’t blame him. If I lost my livelihood seemingly overnight, I didn’t know if I would’ve fared much better.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bloodworth. I had to know,” I said.

  “I understand, you’re doing your job,” Becker said.

  “What happened after you left the bank?”

  “I came back here. The only reason I went there was because I had an appointment scheduled with Percy to talk about my loan situation,” Becker said. “I hoped we could work out some sort of repayment agreement, but I knew from the second I walked in that Percy wasn’t feeling generous.”

  “So do you feel like Percy and the bank took advantage of you?” I asked.

  “That’s putting it lightly. It was never my idea to try to expand my business. I was too afraid to attempt anything risky like that on my own — but Percy himself waltzed in here one day and promised he could help me scale up,” Becker said.

  “And let me guess: he offered you a loan to help you do it?”

  “Exactly, and I was foolish enough to take him for his word,” Becker said. “An unsolicited piece of advice: don’t ever trust a banker.”

  “Duly noted,” I said, thinking back to how dangerously close I’d come to signing a loan of my own — in retrospect, mine seemed more suspicious than the one Percy had given Becker.

  “You know, I considered going to the press. You, specifically,” Becker said and I had to contain my surprise.

  “You did? Why?”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Ms. Clarke. You’ve done an excellent job getting answers that no one else could,” Becker said. “People have noticed, including me.”

  “That’s kind of you. I don’t know that I could’ve helped you though,” I said. Mitch would
’ve poked any number of holes in Becker’s story before we even started investigating it.

  “Maybe, maybe not. But the truth needs to get out there one way or another. Honestly, that’s the only reason I agreed to let you in here,” Becker said. “Well, that and because I wanted to see that wand of yours.”

  I smiled and shame burned in my stomach for prejudging him. Becker was right, he had an unusual appearance, but my conversation with him solidified the truth: Becker was an honest man trying not to let his situation get the best of him.

  “Thank you again for fixing it. I was terrified I might never get to use it again,” I said. “I wish I could repay you somehow.”

  “You can. Figure out what’s going on at that Lilith-forsaken bank and what Percy Thornheart was hiding inside it,” Becker said. “I don’t doubt for a second that’s why he offered me an egg of a loan. He owes people, scary people, and he was desperate.”

  I’d seen that first-hand. But if it wasn’t Becker disguised in the leather robes and matching mask who’d forced Percy into the vaults at wandpoint, then who did?

  “I’ll do my best. You have my word,” I said.

  “Good luck, Ms. Clarke,” Becker said. I tucked my wand back into my robes and made for the front door when another question occurred to me.

  “Sorry, one last thing. Do you have any idea why someone might want to break into the bank only to leave without stealing any money?” I asked.

  “I’ve heard there are things inside those vaults worth far more than any amount of money, Zoe. Some say they’re worth more than life itself,” Becker said and my skin prickled.

  “Like what?” I asked, though I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know.

  “I don’t know for certain, but I bet Victor Thornheart does,” Becker said. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that he and Percy hadn’t been seeing eye-to-eye lately. You should find out if what was in the vaults had something to do with that.”