by Nova Nelson
Ruby groaned, then looked around Harley, catching his eye and nodding. She returned her attention to Bloom. “You know I don’t care about a couple of wealthy East Winds and their mediocre toddler. Anything good on the High Council?”
“If there was anything juicy, you think I would know about it? They keep me as far away from their meetings as possible. The better to cut the entire sheriff’s department budget.” Bloom shrugged a shoulder and sipped her tea as Harley hurried over to refill Ruby’s cup with more hot water.
“Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” Ruby said once she’d thanked him and he’d left. “Your gossip is no good today. Tell me about what work you have for me.” She wafted the fresh steam toward her nose, and in the process Bloom caught hints of jasmine and rose coming from it.
“The Manchesters say they heard something rumbling around their attic.”
Ruby hardly looked up from her drink. “And they’re sure it’s not mice?”
“That’s what they want someone else to find out.” She watched Ruby for any signs of interest but found none.
“Could be that little son of theirs. He’s quite rambunctious. Perhaps he’s pulling a prank.”
Bloom’s eyebrows shot up incredulously. “Stuart? No way. He’s the most straight-laced kid I’ve ever met. A little unsettling, actually… You know he scolded me for littering, back before he was even out of diapers?”
Now she had Ruby’s interest. “You littered?”
“Of course not. I’d just tackled Kelsea Scandrick when she was fleeing Ezra’s Magical Outfitters after robbing it, and a few of my feathers shook loose and floated past him and his mother on the street. That kid really handed it to me, I tell you. No, he wouldn’t pull a prank on anyone. No sense of humor about him.” She paused. “Do you want to check it out or not?”
“Do they know I have a consultation fee?”
Bloom groaned. “Ruby, everyone knows that by now. You’re not exactly coy about it.”
Ruby’s posture straightened. “I think it’s quite reasonable. I spend most of my days tending to false alarms. A lady has to eat.”
“Of course a lady does. But we both know you’re no lady.” Bloom managed to keep a straight face until Ruby’s rigid exterior cracked, then they both laughed.
The sheriff opened her mouth again, but she didn’t get the words out before a clanging bell rang just inside the door. A message had arrived.
Harley hurried to the door and opened it, and an owl swooped in and landed on the table between Ruby and Bloom. It was careful not to knock over either of their drinks, and clutched the message in its claw. The small roll of owl parchment wasn’t even secured, which meant someone had sent it in a hurry. But that was how most messages to the Eastwind Sheriff arrived.
Bloom pulled it open, her eyes scanning it closely, finishing it before immediately reading it again. Then she looked up at Ruby and said, “Want to take a trip with me?”
“Where are we going?”
“Fluke Mountain.”
Chapter Four
That she now found herself on the way to Fluke Mountain after thinking only an hour before that she wouldn’t have occasion to visit was slightly serendipitous. Ruby wouldn’t deny that. But she wasn’t sure she would be of much use in this particular case, given what Bloom had relayed from the emergency message. But more importantly for her business, she definitely couldn’t expect earning a consultation fee from it since she was accompanying Bloom on official police business and the sender of the message hadn’t specifically requested Ruby’s services.
“You know I’ll only be useful if the missing person is not only dead, but has some unfinished business to attend to, right?” She tried not to sound so winded as they climbed the steep incline in the direction of Treetop Lodge. But when was the last time she’d exerted herself like this? Battling spirits was one thing, and while it definitely left her drained, it didn’t usually leave her lungs in such a sorry condition as they were now. She wondered if she could grab ahold of Clifford’s fur and have him help her along …
Bloom didn’t even seem to notice the extra exertion. “Yes, I realize that. But if this missing person went into the woods and was, say, murdered, don’t you think he’s likely to have some unfinished business?”
Ruby shrugged. “Perhaps. Depends on his self-awareness. Some people know they are at a high risk of being murdered based on the way they live their life and treat others. Those people generally accept their death as a natural byproduct of their poor choices and move on when that time comes.”
“From what I’ve heard, Swamy Stormstruck is not that kind of person.”
“Not self-aware?”
“No, not the type anyone would want to murder. I’ve certainly never had any dealings with him, and neither has Deputy Titterfield, to my knowledge. Oh, also, if you could not mention any of what you just said once we’re around his concerned girlfriend, that would be extremely helpful.”
“You wound me, Gabby. I have better sense than that.”
Bloom didn’t argue, but she also didn’t agree. She merely grunted and kept walking.
They were just past the expansive wooden structure of Treetop Lodge when the address listed on the message came into view. Bloom led the way toward the modest home, and as they drew nearer, a hulking figure approached from down the small foot path that wove in front of the rows of residential cabins.
Zax Banderfield grinned as soon as his eyes fell on Ruby. He paused only a few feet ahead of them and nodded to the sheriff before turning his attention back to the Fifth Wind. “I had no idea you would take me up on the offer so soon.”
“Don’t get your fur up about it, Zax. I’m here on official business.”
The sheriff looked back and forth between the pair, clearly trying to fill in the gaps; Ruby would catch her up on it later. She would also do her best to rid Bloom of whatever presumptions she was clearly forming about the two of them.
Zax sighed and addressed the sheriff. “Thanks for responding so quickly. I hope I’m not wasting your time. It’s just that Opal was so distraught, she wouldn’t relent until I sent word.”
The four of them continued down the footpath, Bloom and Zax in front with Ruby and Clifford taking up the rear.
“And why didn’t she send the owl herself?” Bloom asked the werebear.
“She thought you would respond quicker if someone on the High Council sent it.”
Ruby suspected there might have been some truth to that, though Bloom would never admit such a thing. To say relations between the Sheriff’s Department and the High Council were strained would be a tragic understatement. But the two needed each other, whether they ever admitted that or not, and Bloom was a practical person—she knew that her only hope of getting the budget to hire another deputy rested solely upon the whims of the High Council, and keeping them happy improved the odds that their whims would go her way.
However, as far as Ruby was aware, Bloom had no issues with Zax. At least she’d never mentioned him by name. But he was only one of seven, so his favor could only get anyone so far.
They reached the cabin’s front porch, and Bloom planted herself on a mossy welcome mat and then turned to the others with a confident grin on her face. “Ready?” Ruby and Zax nodded, and the sheriff knocked on the door and announced herself.
A petit werebear with burgundy hair, and likely in her mid-twenties by the look of her, answered. Her bloodshot eyes and tear-stained shirt collar said what needed to be said, and when she stepped to the side, muffling a sob, Bloom led the way inside to the living room.
Zax sat next to Opal on a small love seat that faced two overstuffed wingback chairs. Ruby and Bloom made themselves comfortable in those.
“All clear,” Clifford said after a quick sniff of the entryway and living room. His sense for immediate threats was the best Ruby had ever seen.
“Good boy. Have a seat.”
Clifford didn’t need to be told twice. He flopped down in front of the f
ront door. Ruby knew that to be a strategic placement; his bulk kept any new variables to the social equation from bursting in unannounced.
Back on the love seat, Zax gave Opal’s shoulder an awkward squeeze before breaking contact and keeping his hands to himself.
She may be one of his sleuth and under his protection, but he knew boundaries. Ruby found that refreshing in a man.
“I understand you believe your boyfriend is missing?” Bloom said.
Opal stared down at her hands in her lap and nodded.
“And the two of you live together?”
Opal nodded again.
“Okay, so tell me what happened. When was the last time you saw him?”
For a moment, it didn’t appear like she would reply, but then she sighed and shrugged at some thought she didn’t bother sharing with the rest in the room and raised her chin slightly. However, she didn’t meet the sheriff’s eyes, instead opting to stare at the angel’s leather boots. “He didn’t come home last night.”
Ruby sat silently, waiting for more information, but none was readily provided.
Bloom prodded, “And that’s unusual?”
“Yes!” snapped Opal defensively, causing Ruby’s eyes to shoot wide open. “He always comes home!”
“Forgive me,” said the sheriff. “I’m probably not as knowledgeable about werebear customs as I should be.”
Zax jumped in, smartly diffusing the situation. “It’s not unusual for weres to go out on the prowl at night. The Silent Reach is designated werebear territory. Most everything else stays away from that part of Fluke Mountain, and because of that, there are almost never any issues with us shifting out there.”
Ruby’s mind leaped back to what she’d overheard him telling Kayleigh Lytefoot in the Pixie Mixie earlier. Perhaps that accounted for the “almost.”
Bloom nodded and returned her attention to Opal. “Could he have gone out for a prowl and simply lost track of time out there? Or maybe he had to go straight to work?”
“No!” snapped Opal. “Swamy doesn’t do that.”
“A little defensive,” said Ruby.
And Clifford replied, “If she had hackles, they’d be raised.”
But while Ruby was losing patience with the woman’s outbursts, Bloom remained cool as she collected the rest of the information. It felt to Ruby a little like getting blood from a stone (and not the cursed kind of stone that was reportedly found in the Deadwoods and bled profusely no matter what anyone did). But as long as she was able to keep her mouth shut and nothing was required of her, Ruby could school her facial expressions well enough.
She busied herself with a good look around the space. It was tidy, though there didn’t seem to be any specific design theme with the decor. The two wingback chairs she and Bloom occupied were not only different shapes, but one was pink and the other yellow. And the loveseat was a boxy leather thing that would have looked more at home in a hunting lodge than a home. There were no pictures on the walls, but a few shelves carried dusty knickknacks that seemed more likely to be heirlooms than anything someone in her mid-twenties like Opal would have picked out.
Just as Ruby was thinking that this was the second dud of her day, Zax’s deep voice interjected. “I know the policy is that a person isn’t officially missing until they’ve been gone for forty-eight hours, but for what it’s worth, I do feel like there’s reason for concern in this case.” He paused, his chest rising on a deep inhale before he continued.
“There have been, um, unusual rumblings lately. I can’t exactly put my paw on it, but there’s a malaise on the mountain. I know you’re not in the business of investigating hunches, Sheriff, but my gut says Opal is right to worry. I know Swamy, and he’s nothing if not responsible. He’s not the type to stay out all night drinking or fooling around. And if he went straight from prowling to work, he would have sent word back to his woman.” Opal nodded along, staring desperately at her sleuth leader like he was her only lifeline. “If it’s not too much trouble”—he looked at Ruby now—“would you mind checking on the possibility that…” He didn’t have to finish.
“I can reach out,” she said. “But I’ll need complete silence.”
It wasn’t true. She could do this with a little bit of noise, but if she could convince Opal to stop her whimpering, which seemed a little much for the situation at hand, all the better.
“Do you have a picture of him?” she asked before beginning. “I should know who I’m looking for.”
Opal nodded and hurried out of the room and down the hall. She returned a moment later with a framed picture of her and Swamy eating roasted corn together underneath the Lunasa Festival archway.
That would do. Ruby studied the features of his face.
Then she shut her eyes.
After two decades of practice, Ruby was able to summon her astral nook immediately. The space looked different to each Fifth Wind, or at least that’s what she’d read. Her astral nook appeared as a green stretch of soft grass along a lazy riverbank. The sky was always blue with cotton-ball clouds ornamenting it and the air was always that perfect temperature where one doesn’t notice the temperature at all. The sun warmed her cheeks as she sat on a soft plaid blanket, sipped iced peach tea and watched the passersby. She’d been to the real version of this place only once before she’d died, but it’d left such an impression on her that when it came time to envision a meditative meeting place with the spirits, this one had immediately presented itself as the perfect venue. It was simply a canvas on which she practiced her art, but, boy, was it a nice one.
The path running parallel to the riverbank was crowded with souls enjoying their day. And good for them; considering they were all dead, they might as well enjoy it.
She scanned the faces gliding past, trying to spot Swamy. But after a few minutes of searching, she saw no blond men in their mid-twenties wandering by. Either he’d moved on beyond this spiritual waystation, or he wasn’t dead.
She opened her eyes. “He’s not there.”
While that should have been a relief, it only caused Opal to emit a loud sob. She turned and pressed her face into Zax’s thick arm, and he cringed slightly before patting her awkwardly on the back.
One of the things Ruby liked best about Sheriff Bloom was that when the angel was done, she was done. And it looked like they were almost to that point. Bloom smacked her hands on her knees, ready to stand, but Opal pulled her face away from Zax’s arm and barked, “Wait! It could be something else. I didn’t want to mention it if I didn’t have to, but…”
Bloom narrowed her eyes on the young woman and delayed standing. “But?”
Zax shut his eyes like he was bracing for embarrassment, then mumbled, “If you’re about to go where I think you are…” But Opal ignored him.
“Taurus,” she said. “There’s talk that Taurus has returned to the woods.”
Ruby snuck a glance at the sheriff and was relieved to see the angel was as lost as she was.
Zax shook his head slowly. “It’s not Taurus.”
“Who’s Taurus?” Bloom asked.
“No one,” Zax said before Opal could jump in. “It’s just a legend meant to scare cubs. It’s not real.”
“Tell that to Virgil Pine,” Opal spat.
Ruby felt her ears perk up. Or maybe she was feeling that vicariously from Clifford. Virgil was a name she’d already heard today.
“Who is Virgil Pine?” Ruby asked, casually.
“Another werebear,” said the sleuth leader firmly, as if that was the end of it.
“And something happened to him?” Ruby asked, feigning ignorance as best she could. It would do no good to admit to her earlier eavesdropping.
Opal nodded emphatically, almost victoriously, while Zax’s eyes darted from Ruby to the sheriff. “He just got a little scratched up,” he said.
Bloom nodded, as if that sufficed, though Ruby was sure the angel hadn’t mentally glossed over the detail. As it was, though, Bloom’s interest was already fo
cused elsewhere. “And Taurus. Is he or she a werebear?”
“No,” said Opal. “He’s not. Taurus is a minotaur. And ancient one and the sworn enemy of werebears. He hunts us for sport.”
Zax raised a flat hand between himself and Opal, as if cutting through the nonsense. “It’s just a bunch of unicorn swirls, Sheriff. Like I said, Taurus is a legend.”
Opal’s face flushed a fresh shade of pink that had nothing to do with her crying. “So you think Virgil is lying about what he saw?”
Ruby didn’t miss the tiny perturbed flare of Zax’s nostrils. “Not at all. I think he believes he saw a minotaur attacking him. But as someone who’s been attacked his fair share of times, I can tell you that it’s extremely difficult to make sense of what is happening when you’re in the moment and claws and fur are flashing.”
“Is it possible,” Ruby said, “that it was a minotaur who attacked Virgil?”
Zax grimaced. “I suppose, but it would be highly unlikely. The few who live in Eastwind don’t come up on Fluke Mountain, let alone to the Silent Reach. They know it’s werebear territory, and they don’t want to start anything. From what I’ve heard, they prefer the Deadwoods.”
“That’s what I’ve heard as well,” Bloom confirmed. “But we can certainly speak with a few of them and see if they know of any of their kind straying this way. And we’ll definitely have a word with Virgil.”
Though it wasn’t an outright acceptance of the Taurus theory, that plan worked to temporarily subdue Opal’s emotions. And after Bloom promised to give Swamy’s disappearance top priority, Opal allowed them to leave without a fuss.
But Ruby knew the workday was far from over. Her Insight was practically screaming at her: Virgil! Virgil! Virgil!
