With a deep breath and a push, Wynona took off, weaving seamlessly into traffic. Rascal’s apartment building must have been a family affair, because children and adults who looked like they were also shifters were pouring out of the place as if it was a pack den.
Wynona frowned and checked the address once more. Nope. No mistake. This was it. Pasting on her best smile, she nodded politely and greeted everyone she walked past, doing her best to ignore the fact that every single one of them stopped and stared. It would appear that witches were not common in this community.
Putting her head high, Wynona tried to pretend like she belonged, but as the noise gradually died down, leaving a pregnant silence in its wake, she felt her knees begin to tremble. Marching up to Rascal’s door, she raised her hand, clenching her fist tight to keep it from shaking, and gave a firm knock.
Rocking back on her heels, Wynona waited, but no one came to the door. She raised her hand to knock again, but suddenly felt foolish. What was she doing? Chasing down a police officer in his own home, just to see if there were any updates on the case? Rascal was going to think she was crazy. She was crazy!
Spinning on her heel, Wynona was determined to get out of there before someone could figure out who she was.
A door opened behind her and voices filtered into the hallway. One in particular made Wynona pick up her pace.
“Wynona?”
She hesitated, but didn’t turn around.
“Ms. Le Doux?”
Crud. Wynona stopped and squeezed her eyes shut. Taking a deep breath, she turned and smiled. “Hello, Officer Strongclaw.”
He was grinning at her as if he could see exactly how embarrassed she was. “Funny seeing you here,” he said, wiping his hands on a paper towel. He turned back to the tiny, older woman beside him. “Just let me know if that drain gives you any more trouble, alright?”
The woman stopped glaring at Wynona just long enough to look up at Rascal adoringly. “You’re such a good wolf,” she said, patting his cheek. “Don’t be a stranger.” With one last glare at Wynona, she slammed the door, leaving Rascal in the hallway.
He continued to grin while sauntering toward her, only to stop at his door. “Would you like to come in?”
Wynona opened her mouth to say “no”, but forced herself to stop. She wasn’t some young teenage girl. She was an adult and perfectly capable of doing hard things....like asking police officers for help. Nodding instead, she walked back. “Yes, thank you. I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”
Rascal chuckled as he opened his door and ushered her in. “For you to hunt me down at home, I have a feeling it's more than a few.”
Wynona shot him a look, but that only seemed to amuse him more.
“Have a seat,” he said, indicating the couch.
Wynona sat down gingerly, doing her best to maintain proper decorum.
He headed to the kitchen. “Drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Coming back with a glass of water, Rascal apparently hadn’t had the same manners tutor as Wynona and threw himself into an arm chair sideways, so his legs were hanging off the side. He drained the glass and set it aside. “Now, Ms. Le Doux—”
“Wynona.”
He nodded. “Of course. We’ve played this game before.” He smiled. “Wynona. What brings you here?” He frowned. “And how did you even know where I live?”
Wynona pursed her lips. “I probably shouldn’t tell you that.”
“What? Why you’re here? Or how you knew to come here?”
Wynona tried to hide her smile, but she was pretty darn sure Rascal could see it anyway. “I’m here because I’m hoping we can discuss notes on the case.”
One thick eyebrow went up. “You really don’t plan to give up, do you?”
She shook her head. “No. I need to see this through.”
He brought his legs forward and then leaned with his elbows on his knees. “Why is this so important to you? Why are you willing to risk getting hurt in order to solve the case?”
Wynona considered her answer. She didn’t want to dig into everything, but so far Rascal had proven that he was trustworthy. Perhaps she could level with him a bit. Copying his stance, she leaned forward onto her knees. “I need to open my tea shop,” she said softly. “I’ve already had trouble with patrons cancelling appointments because they think I’m a murderer. And if the shop doesn’t open on its planned date, the odds of it ever happening are slim.” Her hands intertwined and she wrung her fingers. “This is all I have, Deputy Chief Strongclaw. If I don’t make this work, I won’t have anything. I barely managed to break ties with my family as it was and going back would be the worst thing I can do, so before you suggest that, just know it’s not an option. I’d rather be homeless and living at the creature shelter than deal with them again.”
He narrowed his eyes, studying her, and Wynona held still for the look. This wasn’t a man sizing up a woman, it was an officer sizing up the truth. Finally he nodded. “You realize we don’t usually let civilians help us?”
Wynona nodded in return. “Yes. And as much as I hate to ask for exceptions, your boss seems in no hurry to help clear my name.”
Rascal scratched his chin. “Yeah...I’m not quite sure what he has against you. Although, it’s not like your family doesn’t have enemies.”
She splayed her hands to the side. “I know, and believe me, I understand why, but he’s never even met me.” She sighed and leaned back. “It’s probably hate based on association and for that, I’m sorry. But I can’t help who I was born to.”
“True enough.” Rascal relaxed against his seat as well. “So, you spoke to the wife?”
Wynona shrugged. “Yes. But since then I’ve come up with more questions.”
“Such as?”
“Such as what’s in the will? I didn’t particularly feel like she was the killer, but I think it’s possible she had the most to gain.”
Rascal grinned and shook his head. “And there’s where you’d be wrong.”
Wynona’s eyebrows shot up.
“The wife doesn’t get a thing if her husband is killed.”
Wynona gasped. “Are you serious?”
Rascal nodded. “It’s all in the prenup. He was wealthy when he married her and it says she doesn’t get a dime. Basically, she’s free to go back to her family, but that’s about it.”
“Oh my goodness...” Wynona’s gaze moved around the room, but she wasn’t seeing any of it. Her mind whirled. Without the will, there was no reason for Mrs. Droxon to kill her husband. None. Except for the abuse, but the question still was, why not just leave? “Who does the money go to?” she asked, refocusing herself on Rascal.
A slight reddish tinge crept into the shifter’s brown skin. “Well...now...we don’t actually know.”
“What?” Wynona jerked upright. “You just said it doesn’t go to the wife. How would you know that if you haven’t seen the will?”
He gave her a look. “Because we have seen the prenuptial agreement. The conditions were very clear that she wouldn’t get anything.”
“Then why haven’t you seen the will?”
“Because no one can find it.”
“No one can find it?” Wynona repeated the words, trying to make sure she was hearing correctly. “Rascal, excuse me if I’m wrong, but Chef Droxon is still very much alive. The murder might have been aimed at him, but he’s still living. Why not ask him where the will is?”
“We have,” he said defensively.
“And he just refuses to share it?”
Rascal shook his head. “No. He said it’s not in the safe where it’s supposed to be.”
“It’s...missing?”
Rascal nodded slowly. “Yep.”
“Oh my...” Wynona deflated into her seat a little. “That does put a kink in things, doesn’t it?” She quickly leaned forward. “Did you ask Chef Droxon who the will talks about?”
Rascal chuckled. “Boy, you’re tenacious.”
&
nbsp; She grinned back at him. “Sorry. But I’ve told you more than once that my entire life is hanging on this murder being solved.”
“Yeah...I get it.”
Screaming children from outside his window caught Wynona’s attention and she automatically turned at the sound.
“Ignore them,” Rascal said easily. “It’s always noisy around here.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
He shrugged. “Shifters, especially wolf shifters, tend to like being in groups. Our animals are social creatures.”
Wynona made a mental note to someday ask about his wolf. She was fascinated by the idea of shifting and if she and Rascal remained friends, maybe she could ask him some personal questions about it. Of course, if she had her powers, she might be able to shift herself. That was the beauty of being a witch. They could do almost all the same magic as the other magical creatures, but with fewer consequences, like being pulled by a full moon. “Good to know,” she responded.
He grinned. “Not a fan?”
She shrugged. “I like my quiet house, but then again, this is the first time I’ve actually owned my own space, so that might have something to do with it.” Or the fact that she grew up alone and it was what she was used to. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Wynona jumped to her feet. She needed to get to the tea shop. “Thank you so much for answering my questions,” she said in a rush. “I have an appointment, but I hope to chat with you again.”
Rascal stood and escorted her across the room to the door. “Anytime,” he said, pulling on the handle. “Now that you know where I live, feel free to come get updates whenever you need.” He winked, a move Wynona was coming to realize was his signature, but that didn’t stop her from blushing.
He really was very handsome. Maybe even more so than Roderick, though they were on complete opposite ends of the spectrum from each other. It probably just depended on one’s preference.
“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate that.”
“And I’ll be waiting.” Still grinning, he closed the door and Wynona headed down the hall.
It wasn’t until she was on her scooter that she realized she’d never gotten the answer to her last question. Squinting up at the building, she smiled and shook her head. She had a strange feeling he did that on purpose. Well, if he wanted her to come back, she just might take him up on the invitation.
CHAPTER 14
“Yerba. For concentration. Careful,” Wynona warned as she set a cup of steaming tea in front of Prim. “It’s hot.”
Prim rolled her pink eyes. “No kidding?”
Wynona huffed. “Sorry.”
Prim grinned. “It’s fine. You just have a nurturing spirit.”
“Indeed,” Roderick said into his tea cup.
That blasted flush heated up Wynona’s cheeks and she quickly raised her own cup, hoping it would look like the steam was causing her to overheat instead of the compliment.
“What good is nurturing if you can’t keep your house clean?” Lusgu muttered as he walked by, guiding a broom around the table they sat at.
Wynona ignored his complaint, something she was getting quite good at, but she couldn’t help looking longingly at the way his fingers danced, making the broom do his bidding. It must be so nice to have such easy access to powers.
Roderick cleared his throat and Wynona blinked herself back into the present. She smiled. “Looks like we’re all...” Her voice trailed off when she felt something shift against her leg. She stiffened and her eyes widened. Was Roderick playing footsies with her? Seriously?
“Oh my goodness!” Prim squealed, bouncing in her seat and pointing at Wynona. “Now our circle is complete!”
Wynona relaxed when she realized the movement on her leg had been Violet.
“You look stunning today, Violet,” Prim gushed.
If Wynona didn’t know any better, she would say the purple mouse now sitting on her shoulder was preening. The thought, however, was entirely ridiculous. After cleaning her face, Violet turned her twitching nose toward Wynona.
“Hungry?”
Violet squeaked.
Picking up a bit of biscuit, Wynona handed it to the small rodent, who took it and settled in for a nice snack.
Prim put her face in her hand. “Do you think she’s your familiar?” the fairy asked.
Wynona shook her head, careful not to knock off her guest. “I don’t have powers, remember? A familiar would be attracted to the magic since that’s how they connect with their masters.”
“True.” Prim sighed. “Still, I can’t believe you tamed a mouse.”
The thought made Wynona pause. Really, she hadn’t tamed Violet at all. A few crumbs shouldn’t have been enough to tame any wild animal, but nonetheless, there was no denying Violet’s friendly personality.
“Why don’t we jump to why we’re here?” Wynona said, changing the subject. She didn’t have answers as to why she was suddenly friends with a mouse and her head couldn’t take more than one mystery at a time.
“Oh, yes,” Prim said quickly, straightening her tutu. She was in her human form at the moment, which meant the tuft of tulle was quite short, but Prim loved to dress dramatically. “Do tell us everything you’ve learned.”
Roderick had been sitting quietly the whole time, but his eyes had followed the conversation...and the mouse.
“I already told Roderick a few things earlier, but I now have more information, which changes what I already knew.” Wynona spent the next twenty minutes going over what she knew and the added information from Rascal. Knowing Mrs. Droxon gained nothing from the baker’s death put a massive shift in her direction.
“So, the wife would gain nothing? Not even a penny?” Prim said in disbelief. She crossed her slim legs and sipped her tea. “That seems rather harsh.”
Wynona shrugged. “I agree, but apparently it’s been that way since the beginning. She signed the prenuptial agreement.” Wynona paused. “Or at least someone in her family had her do so.”
“She does come from a rather wealthy background,” Roderick added. “I suppose it was a way to make sure she wasn’t marrying Atherton for his money.”
“And yet, that’s exactly why I believe she married him,” Wynona mused.
Prim shivered delicately. “Lifestyles of the rich and famous. I just don’t see the appeal. Give me a bed of roses and I’m happy.”
Wynona smiled at her sweet friend.
“But what about the son?” Roderick asked, looking back to Wynona.
Wynona sat up straight. “Son?”
The landlord nodded. “Yes. Mrs. and Chef Droxon have a son. What does the will say about him?”
Wynona pinched her lips together. No wonder Rascal had been so smug. He’d held back more information than he’d let on. If this wasn’t a one and done thing on the solving mystery front, Wynona knew she would need to become much better at picking people’s brains. “I didn’t even know there was a son.”
Prim’s pink eyes gleamed with intelligence as she leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “Funny you should ask that.” One side of her pale pink lips pulled up into a grin. “The Curl and Die was buzzing with his name today.”
“What were they saying?” Wynona asked, passing another bit of biscuit to Violet.
“That dear Kayne had been cut out of Daddy’s will.”
Wynona paused. “How would they know that?” That seemed like a bit too much of a coincidence, but it did add to her list of suspects. Both the wife and the son were cut off? Would Mrs. Droxon have killed in order to preserve her son’s standing as heir? Possibly before Chef Droxon could change the will? Would this Kayne have killed for his own sake?
Prim shrugged one delicate shoulder. “I’m not quite sure, but Gypsy is never wrong.”
Wynona worked to hold back her smile. She adored Prim, but her penchant for gossip was amusing at times.
Roderick raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Never?”
Prim glared at him in challenge. “Neve
r.”
He nodded and turned to Wynona. “While I don’t necessarily have quite as much confidence in everything that filters through those doors, I do have to admit that the ladies there have an uncanny ability to know the pulse of the town.”
Wynona crumbled a cookie as she considered the situation. “Did anyone know why he was cutting Kayne off? Did they just have a falling out? How old is Kayne?”
Prim tapped her lips. “I believe he’s in his early twenties.” She grinned. “Awfully handsome, that one.”
Wynona’s eyebrows went up. Chef Droxon was anything but handsome. Another gnome might find his short, bulbous features attractive, but they weren’t anything Wynona would fawn over.
As if knowing exactly what Wynona was thinking, Prim waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Don’t worry, he takes after his mother.”
“Ah.” Wynona understood the appeal now. Elves could be very attractive indeed. The few males Wynona had run into since being free all held a sense of mystery about them that was quite alluring, even if their magic level was quite a bit less than a warlock’s. Not to mention, Maeve had been exceedingly lovely. Which was more than likely why she was Chef Droxon’s wife. He could afford the best.
“Anyway, as the only child of our famed chef, Kayne Droxon grew up...how to put it nicely...” Prim ticked her head back and forth. “Spoiled?”
Wynona laughed softly. “That’s putting it nicely?”
“It was the only word that worked,” Prim said with an unrepentant grin.
“I can imagine he was the apple of his mother’s eye,” Roderick added, setting his teacup down. He reached for a cookie. “Especially since her marriage was apparently not a happy one.”
Wynona nodded. “Yes. It would make sense. But still, most fathers don’t cut off their sons just for being spoiled.”
“Unless the spoiled child acts out against the father,” Prim offered.
“Maybe.” Was it as simple as that? Right now, Wynona wasn’t sure. Mostly, the information gave her an added suspect and a new motive. Instead of bringing clarity, it seemed as if her work was getting harder.
“So we have the neglected wife, the prodigal son and the secretary, right?” Prim asked.
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