Magical Murder: An Urban Fantasy Mystery (The Lyon Fox Mysteries Book 1)

by Ann Denton

  I don’t even finish knocking on Mrs. Snow’s door before she opens. Surprisingly, Tabby’s there again. The smell that wafts out is more like peanut butter cookies than rat innards. I sigh in relief.

  “Oh my, sugar, your young man is just the sweetest thing.”

  “No,” Tabby interjects, pulling a kindergarten-teacher sweater over her shoulders. She sticks her hands into the apple-shaped pockets as she retorts, “I dunno who the dragon-shifter was, but girl, if you don’t want him, he’s mine.”

  Mrs. Snow claps. “We’ve been here since it all happened. My bunco group came over and we all had a nice chat about which one you’d choose.”

  I nod slowly. My personal life has just become prime gossip for a group of retired women with nothing better to do. And one of them owns a crystal ball and has been known to peep.

  Note to self. Move. Break all crystal balls in town. Or never have sex again. If that’s even an option. I haven’t even kissed either one. But now I’m paranoid. I don’t want them watching me. Unless … if Tabby only likes shifters, maybe I choose Luke. But my conversation with Bennett makes Luke the prime suspect again.

  I realize the women have stopped talking and everyone’s staring at me, waiting for introductions.

  “Mrs. Snow, Ms. Blue, this is Jacob Watts,” I say.

  Jacob politely shakes hands with both women and I think I see Tabby blush.

  “Did you wanna see the flowers Luke left, yeah?” Mrs. Snow asks as she ushers us inside.

  “Oh. Um, sure.”

  Her dining table has a bouquet of white lilies and roses on it. Normally, I’d say it’s gorgeous. But after Hearts and Powers, I’m a little flowered out. “It’s nice,” I shrug nonchalantly.

  “Nice! Girl, you have a thing or two to learn.” Mrs. Snow lectures as she goes to grab a pitcher of lemonade and a platter of peanut butter cookies.

  We sit at the dining table, but the flowers block me from making eye contact. I move them to the floor.

  “I actually came to see if you ladies still have that crystal ball,” I try to keep my voice calm and even. “Jacob and I are looking into a murder.” I phrase it carefully. I do not say investigating. I don’t officially have any authority to investigate. And I definitely do not say that we’re investigating a murder I’ve been charged with. God, that would get the lips flapping. The bunco ladies would probably permanently move in and take turns patrolling me.

  Tabby’s jaw drops.

  Mrs. Snow misses her mouth and spills lemonade on the table.

  “A murder!”

  “You don’t mean that young man we saw last time, do you?” Tabby asks, worried about Bennett.

  “No. No. He’s fine,” I hope. “I’m not really sure how to say this, but someone thinks Luke might be involved in a murder.” I gesture to the flowers to remind them of my other gentleman-caller.

  Like a comedy movie, both women’s hands fly to their hearts. “No!”

  I nod sadly. “I think that person is a little crazy. But I just met Luke and you never know—”

  Tabby nods. “It’s true. Men can lie. I once dated a shifter who said he was a bob-cat. Three months later I found out he was a nasty little no-haired sphynx cat.”

  Mrs. Snow curls her lip. “Awful.”

  Jacob, shockingly, joins in. “Yeah, people can lie to your face. And you sometimes don’t even know.”

  Both women look at Jacob and turn to me. I give a tiny nod. They nod in return—acknowledging we have an active heartbreak on our hands. Tabby pats Jacob’s hand sympathetically.

  Mrs. Snow pounds the table. “Well, that’s it then. Let’s grab that ball and take a look at Luke. We gotta prove that boy’s innocence so he can come courtin’.”

  Tabby’s back with a crystal ball in no time. She plops it onto the middle of the table, setting up some tropical-themed coasters as blocks to keep it from rolling around. She cracks her knuckles. “So, we’re just looking for Luke? Easy enough.” She closes her eyes.

  Two seconds later, the ball is glowing.

  Luke and Cherry Jones pop into view. They’re sitting in a cramped office with a bald witch doctor, who’s waving a skull around in one hand and throwing some nasty-looking orange water on Luke’s face.

  “Nope. Not sheeing anything.” The witch doctor has a nasty lisp that verges on a whistle. And he slurps his own spittle before he speaks again. “No love shpells. You’re free and clear.”

  Luke leans back in his chair with a sigh. Cherry offers him a towel and he wipes the orange liquid off his face. He tosses a bag of gold onto the table. The witch doctor grabs it, packs his bag, and bows himself out.

  “So, it’s real.” Luke sits back in this chair. “I actually like this girl.”

  Cherry leans forward. “After what G did to you. To us. I think we both deserve some happiness. I’m happy for you, Luke.”

  He grins at her across the desk. But Cherry’s violet eyes start to grow big and pleading.

  “But—” he says slowly.

  “But, that ceremony just means you like her. It doesn’t mean she likes you. For all we know she could be using you.”

  Luke rolls his eyes. “What could Lyon possibly want?”

  “She’s been accused of G’s murder.” Mrs. Snow and Tabby both gasp and look up at me. I hold my hands up in the universal protest of innocence. I want to glare at Cherry for outing me. But that wouldn’t do any good.

  “She didn’t do it,” Jacob whispers to the women. For some reason, the word of a stranger calms them down.

  “There is no way that girl is a murderer,” Luke’s voice is loud and clear.

  I feel myself swell up with pride at the way he defends me. But then I check myself. What the heck am I doing feeling pride that someone doesn’t think I’m a murderer? I’m not. Hello. That’s not something to be proud of. That’s a given. I mentally smack myself before staring back at the ball.

  “Even if she’s not, she’ll be desperate to find out who is. And if she gets wind of the kid—”

  Kid—what kid? The wicked witch had a kid?

  “Adelia would never let that get out. It would ruin the family. Besides she loves that kid too much.”

  “So you say. But now G’s dad’s gone too. How do ya think that happened?”

  “Don’t be so paranoid.”

  “Don’t get so wrapped up in this girl so quick.”

  “I’m not.”

  Her eyes grow even bigger. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Luke snorts. “Knock it off, Cher. That doesn’t work on me.”

  “Too bad,” she flutters her eyelashes.

  The light in the ball fades as Luke pulls open the door to the office and leaves.

  Mrs. Snow turns to me. “Investigating a murder, huh?”

  “Trying to clear my name.”

  Both women open their mouths at the same time. I hold up a hand. “Jacob can explain. It might take him awhile. I have to go make a phone call. And then go to dinner. Do you mind if he stays here?”

  Tabby looks excited. Mrs. Snow—ever the southern lady—can’t refuse an opportunity to play hostess.

  They flutter around him, asking questions.

  He gives me a death glare and mouths, “You owe me,” over their heads.

  I wiggle my fingers at him. He might hate me but keeping busy-bodies at bay is better than moping. I’ve left him in capable, if overeager, hands.

  I pull out my phone, scroll through my contacts, until I reach ‘Monkey Butt Licker’ aka Bennett French. Might be time to rename that contact. I hit dial. It rings. He doesn’t answer. Screw it.

  He won’t answer? I’ll go find him.

  Chapter 18

  I walk past Arnold the asshat supervisor on my way to Bennett’s office.

  “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

  “I’m not here for work.”

  He stares me down as though I owe him an explanation as to why I’m near the courthouse at all. I bite down on my ton
gue in order to keep it in my mouth. Sometimes, I think I deserve a medal for dealing with such a butt-munch on a daily basis. Why are bosses always such jerk-offs? Is that part of the test to get promoted to supervisor? Seriously.

  When Arnold doesn’t get his explanation, he huffs and continues on down the hall. I roll my eyes.

  I knock before entering Bennett’s office. He’s hunched over a series of photos, a huge book of runes opened beside him. He has a soggy meatball sandwich in one hand and a photo in the other.

  “How’s it going?”

  He looks up, startled. A meatball plops out of his sandwich onto the pictures.

  “Crap! Ly, I didn’t hear you.”

  “I knocked.”

  “I was just—” he blots at the mess and scarfs down the meatball that fell (gross) and gestures at his pile. “I’ve been trying to figure out what these damn runes mean.”

  I take a seat and pull a couple of photos toward me. Among the blackened mess that was Georgina’s apartment, there are at least five runes glowing like embers. “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Like two hours.”

  “Don’t you have a witch on staff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Call her in here.”

  “She’s not on the case.”

  “You don’t need her on the case.”

  Ben gives me the evil eye. But I wave him off.

  “Trust me. Who told you about infrared pictures? Who’s gotten you every lead on this case so far? In fact, I think you should pay me. I’m pretty much doing your job for you—”

  Bennett grumbles and reaches for his phone. “I still don’t know how you knew about that infrared thing.”

  “I had an interesting cellmate when I was improperly arrested and imprisoned while unconscious,” I retort.

  He asks the witch, Amy, to come over to his office.

  “Now, why did I do that?” he asks as he puts down his phone.

  “If you were a girl, you’d never have asked that question.”

  When Amy enters, I hand her a photo. “Did you ever do the match spell in high school?”

  She grins. “Like every other day.”

  “Bennett doesn’t know what the match spell is.”

  Amy turns to him. “It’s only like the best spell to find the dress to go with your perfect shoes. Or vice versa.”

  “Shoes?” Mr. French looks like he doubts my brilliant plan.

  “The spell finds things that go together,” I explain to him before turning to Amy. “Can you match the pictures of these runes with the definitions in the book?”

  “Easy peasy.”

  She closes her eyes, whispers the spell, snaps, and flip! Voila! Bennett’s book is open on the page with the correct rune. I grab the photo from her and stick it into the book to mark the page.

  “Amazing.” I enjoy watching Bennett’s shocked face. I could get used to that. I make a mental note to try to get him to make that face as often as possible.

  “Amy, we have a few more.” I hand her another.

  Amy matches the remaining four runes and leaves after Bennett and I have thanked her. I promise her Ben owes her donuts tomorrow and she seems pretty happy. Ben doesn’t seem quite so amused by my generosity on his behalf.

  “I don’t want my people thinking rewards are a thing,” he scolds me.

  “But they are a thing,” I quip.

  “Not from me.”

  “Okay, Arnold.” I roll my eyes. See, supervisors equal jerks. Am I right?

  Bennett ignores me and flips open the rune dictionary. “To stay… to hide … to subdue… to conceal … to forget.”

  My eyes widen. “Those sound serious. Like Georgina was doing something illegal. And hiding it. The reporter said neighbors heard strange noises from that apartment.”

  Ben’s eyes flicker up to mine. And I can tell, immediately, that he’s hiding something.

  “What is it?”

  He bites his lip. Lust flares up, but I push it down. The case is too serious right now for that. We’re on the cusp of something. I can feel it.

  “What is it?” I repeat.

  “I think she was doing something illegal.”

  “Do you think … draining?” My voice is weak. I remember why I came here. Luke and Cherry mentioned a kid. “Oh holy night.” Do not let G have been draining kids. Do not let that be true.

  Ben sighs. “I don’t think so. Draining’s quick. The biggest problem with a drain is body disposal. These runes, and the chains in her walls make me think it’s something even worse.”

  “Chains?” The blood drains from my face.

  “She had chains in one of the bedrooms. Thick chains that spanned the length of the room. Gave access to a bathroom. But not the window. I think Georgina was holding someone prisoner.”

  A shiver crawls like a spider down my spine. That’s so effin’ creepy. Like monster-vampire-nightmare creepy. “Who?”

  “Well, her father’s ashes were found mixed into those chains.”

  “She chained up her father?”

  “No. She couldn’t have. I interviewed the parents, remember? They were no help.”

  “So, she’d chained up someone else?”

  “I think so. But clearly, they escaped.”

  “I heard rumors she had a kid.” I’m not sure of the legality of spying on Luke. So I’m vague.

  “Vamps can’t have kids.”

  “She turned a kid, maybe? I dunno. It was just a rumor.”

  “I haven’t heard anything like that. Who’d you hear it from?”

  I wince. “Luke.”

  Ben growls. “When did you see him?”

  I bite my lip and admit to spying. Ben is much more forgiving of my illegal peeping than he should be. Is that relief on his face? I’m not sure. But whatever it is, I’m glad I’m not getting my ass chewed.

  “Why would she turn a kid? Vamps hate kids. They’re too human. And dirty. And all that. Luke has to be wrong.”

  “I think you just want him to be wrong.”

  “I think you just want to have blinders on when it comes to him.”

  “This is about a kid. Not him.”

  “Well, here’s the thing. Why would Georgina run for office if she had a vamp kid? They’re eternally little terrors. She wouldn’t have time to campaign. She would have to take care of it—”

  “She did cancel all the dinners at her house. Cherry told me that.” I offer.

  He shakes his head. “I just don’t see it.”

  “Yeah, well she ran Hearts and Powers and that didn’t seem to fit her ice-queen personality much either.”

  Ben rolls his eyes. “I’ll look into it.”

  “Good.”

  “So what’s your working theory about all this? One murderer? Two separate murders?”

  Bennett shrugs. “Now, that’s the big question isn’t it? Are the two related? Did someone kill Georgina? Did that person go into her apartment intending to kill Mr. Knight? Or did they go in to set the fire and then just have to kill him because he was a witness?”

  “Who would do that?”

  He laughs. “Well, when you figure it out, you’ve solved the case.”

  “You don’t have any leads?”

  He shakes his head. “Whoever did it was smart. The construction rubble and the fire make evidence collection a bitch.”

  “And you’re for sure it’s not Matthew?” I know it’s wrong but part of me hates him so much right now, that I wouldn’t mind seeing him go down for this.

  Bennett comes around his desk to perch on the edge, close enough that our knees almost touch. I can feel his body heat and I have to suppress a tremor of lust. “Unless his accountant is lying. But, he doesn’t have much reason to lie. How’s Jacob?”

  I shrug. “I left him in the gossipy hands of my elderly downstairs neighbor and her friend, who are probably dissecting my love-life right now because Luke gave them flowers and they saw you shift—they were mildly impressed, by the w
ay—so I’m hoping he’s reasonably distracted and focused on his annoyance at me right now. Instead of other things.”

  “Hold on. Back up. Mildly impressed?” Ben slides down so our knees are touching.

  My breath catches. Our eyes meet. My mouth rambles. “One of them might have mentioned she’d be interested. I could give her your number if you want? She’s seventy. Think she’s part cat-shifter.”

  He gives a half-grin. “Unfortunately, I’m only interested in one woman.”

  My heart stops as he leans forward. “Should we continue our conversation now, Lyon?”

  His green eyes are inches from mine. And they’re burning with desire. I see the dragon’s flame leap in his irises. Heat and magic engulf me, pulse around me. I lean forward, entranced.

  “You know, if you use magic, it’s cheating.”

  “I don’t mind cheating to win you over. But I promise you I would never ever do what Saffron did. I won’t cheat any other way.”

  “And… you killed it.” I scoot back in my seat.

  “What? I’m telling you I’ll be loyal.”

  “Yeah, in the worst way possible.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I sigh. “Me too.”

  “Can I tell you that you look beautiful?”

  I laugh. “The mood’s gone. Dead. Vanished. Vamoosed. Exiled—”

  Ben cuts me off as he hauls me to my feet. He whirls me around and pushes me up against his desk, wedging his body between my legs. His hands travel up my back, my neck. He traces the edge of my jaw. He nuzzles my ear. And suddenly I can’t think. My blood is pounding. And his lips are close. So close.

  “Do you know why I went rogue?”

  “Why?”

  “Because of you.” Ben stares at me with such intensity, I can’t keep eye contact.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “They wanted to arrange a match. For me. But when you said you loved me … it changed things. Me.”

  Tears fill my eyes. He cannot be serious. When I said that, we broke up. “Ben, if this is an effin’ joke, it’s not funny.”

  He grabs both my hands, linking our fingers. I should pull it away, but I don’t. I’m too busy trying to hold it together inside. Deep breath. Deep breath.