“Jules was the best in the class,” Fred said. “You’d have been impressed.”
“I’m sure I would have.” I gave her an appraising look. “Maybe you should consider rejoining. I’m not sure that painting is really your thing.”
“I don’t need a thing,” Jules said. “I have plenty of things.”
“I’m talking about a thing that doesn’t involve violence,” I said. “Something to do for fun and relaxation.”
“I throw axes for fun and relaxation,” Jules said.
“Did you miss the part where I mentioned no violence?” I turned my attention to Fred since I was clearly not going to make headway with the vampire right now. “Fred, my name is Eloise Worthington and I’m…”
“I know who you are,” he interjected. “I was at your welcome party, only for the first hour though. It was poker night with the fellas and I don’t like to miss it.”
I crossed my arms. “If you know who I am, then you probably know why I’d like to speak with you.”
A gentle sigh escaped his lips. “It’s about my complaint, isn’t it?” He swore under his breath. “The second I heard about Helen-Mary, I knew that complaint was going to bite me in the keister.”
Jules fixed him with a hard stare. “Then you may as well tell us everything.”
“There’s no everything to tell,” he said. “I filed a complaint with the HOA against Helen-Mary a few weeks ago because she sold me a faulty potion.”
“What was faulty about it?” I asked.
“I’d rather not say.”
“You said it in a complaint that you filed,” I said. “You might as well tell me now because I’m going to read it anyway.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’d been having issues with a dry scalp, so I went to her for help. Everyone says she’s the best in the village for potions.” Fred lifted the mop of hair from his head and I gasped. “Exactly. It was supposed to take care of my dry scalp. Instead, I lost half my body hair, including the hair on my head, which is a real issue for a werewolf.”
“What happened with the complaint?” I asked.
“I lost,” Fred said.
He lost? How could he have lost when he’d been forced to wear a hairpiece as a result? I knew Hera could be tough, but this seemed grossly unfair.
“I take it you didn’t let it end there,” Jules said.
Fred’s gaze shifted to the cracks in the sidewalk. “No, it was humiliating and I felt like Helen-Mary got a free pass, so I organized a peaceful protest outside True Brew since they distribute her potions there.”
I felt an unexpected connection with Fred.
“What did you hope to accomplish aside from humiliating her?” Jules asked.
“I demanded that they stop selling her potions until quality control measures were put into place,” he said. “No one should be able to sell potions that can have such adverse effects without repercussions.”
“Why do you think the HOA found against you?” I asked.
“Her junior potion partner was there.” He snapped his fingers. “Agatha. And I’m pretty sure Agatha is friendly with our Madam President.”
I recalled the goddess saying that the two of them played bridge together. “Yes, that’s true, but Hera doesn’t strike me as someone who plays favorites. She seems to despise everyone equally.”
He laughed. “That’s fair enough.”
“I’ve heard that Helen-Mary was competent with magic,” I said. “Do you think your potion was a glitch or is there some reason she’d want to deliberately sabotage your…body hair?”
Fred adjusted his wig. “I think it was a mistake in her potion process, but if I didn’t draw attention to it and demand improvements, then who knows how many others might’ve been harmed by another mistake?”
“Or even worse,” Jules said. “Obliterated.”
Fred’s Adam’s apple moved up and down. “I wouldn’t obliterate her to teach her some kind of lesson. That’s crazy. I only wanted to persuade her to take responsibility.”
“And you were frustrated that she wasn’t listening,” I said. After all, he had to suffer the consequences while she continued to make money.
Fred yanked up his sleeves in frustration and I noticed the baby smooth skin of his arms. Wow. He wasn’t kidding; his head wasn’t the only place he lost hair. “I’ll admit that I’ve been angry and bitter about the whole thing. I feel that my concerns should’ve been taken more seriously, first by Helen-Mary, then the HOA, and ultimately by the public at large.”
I folded my arms. “So basically you feel like a middle-aged woman at a congressional hearing.”
“Is there no way to get your hair back?” Jules asked. “Have you asked at True Brew about alternative magic?”
He shook his head. “I don’t trust the process anymore. I’m just going to hope it grows back the way it was, even if it takes time.” He grunted. “I mean, let’s face it. We’ve got nothing but time around here.”
“Unless you’re Helen-Mary,” I said. “A witness says you were spotted at the golf course the morning she was attacked.”
“Yeah, I had a tee time after hers. It was scheduled well in advance and I had no clue she’d be there.”
I jabbed a finger into his chest. “Says you.”
“Yes, says me. Who else would say it?”
“And you’re a werewolf,” Jules said.
Fred’s face contorted in confusion. “And?”
“You probably wear gloves when you golf,” Jules said.
He seemed genuinely baffled. “Of course I do. Some werewolves have a sensitivity to iron and I happen to be one of them.”
“You know you just admitted to hiding your fingerprints from the murder weapon,” Jules said.
“There were no prints, right?” I whispered to Jules.
“No prints,” Jules confirmed.
Fred exhaled loudly. “The only thing I’ve admitted to is playing golf with gloves, which is not unusual. Unless you have more than that to throw at me, then I’ll be going now. I got out of work early today because I have tickets to the playhouse later and I need to run errands first.”
“I heard they’re performing Waiting for God-ot again,” Jules said. “Don’t they know anything else?”
He shrugged. “It’s either that or let the witches perform Macbeth for the hundredth time.”
I held out a hand to stop him. “I’m not done with you yet, buster. I’m the marshal in this place and I say when it’s okay for you to leave.”
Fred’s growl was low and threatening. I snatched my hand back to my side, but not before Jules moved to stand between us.
“If you ever so much as sniff in my friend’s direction again, I’ll gut you with my fangs,” Jules said.
“I thought I was your friend,” Fred said. His disappointment seemed genuine.
“You’re a werewolf,” Jules said. “You can take care of yourself. Eloise is a human marshal in an afterlife of supernaturals. She isn’t equipped to go toe-to-toe with any of us.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” I said. “I can definitely take that raven god and the one that still wears his ancient robes…” I tapped my cheek, devising a mental list of all the villagers whose supernatural butts I could kick.
Jules glanced over her shoulder. “You’re not helping.”
“Ooh, sorry. Right. I’m helpless, dude, so you need to listen to Jules or else.”
Fred pursed his lips, seemingly resigned. “Fine. What other questions do you have for me?”
“Did you see Helen-Mary at the golf course that morning?” I asked.
“No, and I only heard about the incident last night during billiards.”
I laughed. “Golf. Billiards. Poker. Hula. Is there any activity you don’t engage in, Fred?”
The werewolf shrugged. “I’m an extrovert. I like to have an active social life.”
“When’s the last time you saw the victim?” I asked.
Fred stroked his smooth ch
in. “Not since the day of the protest. She went in through their back entrance and talked to me through the window. Told me to stop my nonsense and get a life.”
“Been there,” I murmured.
“You’d better not be lying, Fred, or we’ll find out,” Jules warned.
“Down, girl,” I said to the vampire. “We’re cool here. Thanks for your help, Fred. If you think of anything that would help the investigation, will you let me know?”
Fred nodded with enthusiasm. “I don’t like the idea of a killer roaming the village streets any more than you do.”
“Hey, if it’s any consolation, I see a whisker growing right there.” I poked the side of his chin.
Fred perked up. “Really?”
“Yeah, it’s coming in nice and thick too.”
He squared his shoulders. “Thanks. See you around, ladies.” He walked away with a swagger in his step.
The vampire waited until he was out of earshot to speak. “I didn’t see a whisker and I have vampire eyesight.”
I turned to walk back the way we came. “Oh, there was no hair. It was just a little white lie to make him feel better.”
Jules bumped me with her hip. “You little minx. That was nice and completely unnecessary.”
“I know, right? I’m like the Jessica Simpson of Divine Place.” Without the gorgeous face and incredible body. So maybe the Ashlee Simpson of Divine Place.
“What now?” Jules asked.
“Now you’ll go back to Bloodlust to torment whichever customers are day drinking and I’ll go back to Zone 1 in search of good fortune.”
Chapter Nine
I arrived at the Gods Complex in Zone 1 and went straight to the sandpit where a beach volleyball game was already underway. I noticed the cyclops named Dean that I’d met at the gym the first week of my arrival. He hovered in front of the net with his single eye trained on the ball. As the ball careened toward him, he jumped up to spike it and missed, landing on his knees in the sand with a thud. The werewolf behind him managed to bump the ball back into the air before it hit the ground.
I scanned the players in an attempt to identify Fortuna. In her white kaftan and floral headdress, she was surprisingly easy to spot. Petals spilled from her hair every time she moved to hit the ball and I tried to contain my excitement when I realized that many of those petals were light purple just as Gia said.
A slender woman with flaming red hair joined me on the sidelines. She was dressed in a canary yellow romper and wore large sunglasses that hid half her face. I noticed that she smelled vaguely of salt. “One more game until the championships. My money is on Fortuna’s Tunas.”
I turned to face her, unable to hide my amusement. “That’s the name of their team?”
“I’m a fan. Then again, I’m a sea goddess so I’ll support anything with the word ‘tuna’ in it.”
I offered my hand. “Marshal Eloise Worthington.”
“Gasmu,” she said, shaking my hand.
“Why aren’t you playing?”
“My team lost last week. I like to come and mock the competition.”
I smiled. “It is so nice to meet a likeminded woman.”
She tugged her sunglasses down to peer at me. “Heard you had the misfortunate of going out with Aidan last night. On behalf of women everywhere, I commend you for your sacrifice.”
“I can hardly consider it a sacrifice when the scallops were that incredible. Not that I don’t condone gossip—I mostly definitely do—but how did you hear about it?”
Gasmu’s breathy laugh reeked of the tangy smell of the sea. “He and I travel in the same circles.”
“Because of the whole affinity with water thing?”
“Pretty much. I mean, I’m a goddess so technically he should worship me, but…”
I gave her a knowing smile. “Let me guess. You’re not his type.”
“There is that.” Gasmu’s gaze flickered over me. “And let’s just say that he’s not mine.”
“What do you know about Fortuna?” I asked. I figured I might as well get some insight before I tackle the next interview.
“She’s hypercompetitive,” Gasmu said. “She once cut me off with her golf cart to get the last parking spot during the annual figurine sale at Dollhouse. She nicked the paint off the front of my cart without so much as an apology and I had to take it into the shop for a touchup.”
As I watched Fortuna body slam her teammate to get to the ball first, I began to understand the kind of goddess she was. She reminded me of my stepmother on Black Friday, willing to elbow and claw her way to any appliance offered at a deep discount. I once came home with muddy footprints on the back of my shirt that I was pretty sure matched her Nine West boots.
“I guess that’s why her team wins,” I said.
I waited for a natural break in the game to approach her. “Hey, Fortuna. Looking good out there.”
The brunette goddess turned toward me with an enigmatic smile. I’d never seen tighter corkscrew curls on a woman. “They don’t call me the goddess of good fortune for nothing.”
“Do you have a minute to talk?” I motioned for her to step away from the rest of the team so that we wouldn’t be overheard.
“I don’t want to be away from the court for too long. They need me.”
“This won’t take long. I’d like to ask you a few questions about Helen-Mary.” I watched her closely to gauge her reaction to the name.
Fortuna tilted her head back with entitled annoyance. “Is that witch giving you a hard time? Why doesn’t that surprise me? She thinks she’s above everyone. If she’d dare to look in the mirror every so often, she might remember she’s a mere witch and not a goddess.”
Apparently, the bad news hadn’t reached the sandpit. “Helen-Mary isn’t giving me a hard time. She isn’t giving anyone a hard time because she’s been obliterated.”
Fortuna gaped at me. “You’re not serious? She’s…gone?”
“I’m afraid so. Yesterday morning.”
“Great Zeus,” she murmured. “I can’t believe it. What’s this afterlife coming to? I’m going to start carrying pepper spray when I go out at night.”
“I just said she was obliterated in the morning.”
“Even so, a goddess can’t be too careful.”
I stared at her for another beat before deciding to plow ahead with my questions. “I understand the two of you had a disagreement recently.” Of course, I had no such understanding, only the flower petal found on Helen-Mary’s clothing. If I was wrong, it would be obvious pretty quickly.
Her brown eyes widened as my question hit home. “You cannot possibly think that I had anything to do with that. I’m the goddess of good luck, chance, and fortune. It would be against my nature to bring someone bad luck, no matter the state of our personal relationship.”
Bingo! A diversionary tactic rather than an outright denial of a disagreement. “Against your nature but not impossible,” I said.
Fortuna adjusted her headdress. “How dare you approach me in the middle of a very important volleyball game with such a horrendous accusation.”
“What was the disagreement about?” I pressed.
She glared at me. “It’s none of your concern.”
“As the marshal, I can assure you that it’s very much my concern and, if you don’t comply, I’ll drag you down to the HOA for the rest of my questions. A shame your team will have to play the rest of the game without you.”
A sharp intake of breath followed my threat. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I folded my arms. “Try me.”
Fortuna seemed to weigh the options and finally relented. “Fine. We had an argument on the village green last week. It wasn’t my best moment, but that doesn’t prove anything.”
“It proves you might’ve had a motive to shove a golf club through her heart.”
Fortuna shrank back in horror. “Through her heart? I could never commit such a violent act. At most, I would’ve shoved it…somewhere else.�
�
“Can you tell me what the argument was about?”
Someone called Fortuna’s name. “I need to get back to the game. If you want to continue asking me your ridiculous questions, you’ll have to follow me back to the court.”
I glanced at the players on the sand. If the one-eyed cyclops with depth perception issues could play, then it couldn’t be too dangerous to stand nearby. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Fortuna jogged back to her place on the court and I stood just over the line in the sand.
“Helen-Mary was ungrateful.” The ball sailed toward us and Fortuna smacked it to her teammate in the front row. “She was one of the villagers who always seemed to get her way.”
“You’re the goddess of good fortune. Shouldn’t you have been happy for her?”
The goddess scowled. “I would have been if she ever bothered to pay tribute to me. I hold the weekly offering session. Never once has she shown up. At the very least she could have come to light a candle to show me some respect.”
The ball careened toward me and I backed up so that Fortuna could give it a solid whack over the net. “What happens during an offering session?”
“Villagers bring me trinkets or other tokens of appreciation.”
I thought of the coin in my pocket from the leprechaun. “And the deal is what? That you can bless them with good luck?”
“I can assist them, yes. Either they’re having a run of bad luck and they want to turn it around, or they want to continue the streak of good luck that they’re having. Either way, I’m your goddess.”
The ball shot across the net and smacked the cyclops on the forehead. He stumbled backward and barely managed to stay on his feet. The opposing team cheered as the ball hit the ground.
“Seems like your stroke of luck for this game might have run out,” I said.
Fortuna glared at me. “It’s because I’m distracted. I need to focus to help my teammates.”
“You’ll be free to focus in another minute.”
Graves and Golf Carts Page 8
