Growling Grimoire: A Nine Lives Magic Mystery, page 15
Kent’s face went pale. “That’s a lie!” he yelled, but his voice wavered.
“Turn up the heat, Clint!” Selene barked, effortlessly slipping back into her usual role as the commanding officer.
Clint, for his part, remained still, and the flames remained unchanged.
“Fine,” Selene sniffed, realizing her demand was going unmet. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t need a confession. I know where the murder weapon is stashed.”
I blinked. “You do?”
“What do you think I was doing in that shed in the first place? Mirin’s signature was to kill with silver-plated scissors, but the wounds on Harris were cruder and larger. He used—” She stopped short, her tiny mouth dropping open as her eyes widened. “Oh my goddess, they’re right there! In his hand! The garden shears!”
Selene recoiled, her furry face scrunched with disgust. “You’re still using them to trim your rosebushes? After what you did? That’s just sick!”
Kent dropped the shears as though the handles were suddenly molten.
“I was looking for them when the door slammed shut. I tried every spell I could think of, but nothing got through.”
“Nasty cat!” Kent snarled.
A burst of pink sparks pierced the flames and snagged the shears. “There,” Selene said, reeling the current back toward her, “that’s all Sheriff Bowman will need to throw you in a cell for whatever time you have left.” Then, looking at the manticore, who was hissing and swiping at the strange fire, she added, “Sorry, fuzzball, looks like you’re an orphan now.”
Kent began sobbing. “I-I was only trying to protect him!”
“Harris?” I asked.
“No!” Kent snapped, looking up with red eyes. “Fluffy! Harris tried to poison him. I caught it on my security cameras. He was tossing rat poison over into my yard, hoping Fluffy would eat some and—” A choked sob broke off the rest and the man’s shoulders shook as he buried his face in his hands.
The buzz and flurry of the neighbors pressed in closer as the police arrived in three separate squad cars. As Sheriff Bowman emerged alongside her uniformed deputies, someone shouted, “It was him! He killed Harris!”
And another added, “He did it!”
The fire vanished and Clint promptly collapsed onto the ground. I raced over the smoldering lines in the grass, past Fluffy and Kent, and dropped beside him. “Clint?!”
“I-I’m all right. Just … exhausted.”
I cradled him to my chest—which he didn’t seem to mind at all—and watched the chaotic scene unfold.
Selene remained in the center of things, sticking close to Kent’s side until he nodded and agreed to the officer’s barked questions.
Sheriff Bowman snapped her fingers and cuffs circled Kent’s wrists. Two officers flanked him, each holding one arm to steer him toward a waiting squad car.
“How could you have possibly known?” Kent exclaimed, his voice breaking as he crumpled and sagged in the officers’ grip.
“It was right there in the first article about the murder,” Selene said. “You gave yourself away, making up the story about going over there to return a borrowed yard tool, and finding Harris dead. But the truth is, you and Harris were sworn enemies. He wouldn’t have let you borrow so much as a cup of sugar, would he?”
Fluffy pawed haplessly for his owner, and my heart twisted for the poor creature.
“Please, let him stay with me,” Kent pleaded to the officers. “He won’t survive on his own.”
“We’ll see that he’s taken care of,” Sheriff Bowman said, though her expression revealed a hint of uncertainty as she looked at Fluffy. “Magical animal control will place him with a qualified rescue until after your trial.”
Selene shot me a withering look. “Don’t you dare think about adopting another stray.”
Clint sat up and draped an arm around my shoulder. “I’m with Selene on this one, honey.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling a little.
A shadow fell across Clint’s face, and we turned to find Sheriff Bowman standing over us, her hands on her hips. With a grimace, Clint and I got to our feet.
“You must be Cora Hearth,” she said in a dry voice that suggested the introduction was somewhat less than welcome. “And you must be Selene.”
Selene preened, lifting her chin and tail as high as they could go. “That’s right.”
Sheriff Bowman looked around at the scorched yard, sullen manticore, and whispering throngs of neighbors. “He did warn me about you.”
I winced. “Templeton?”
Slowly, she dragged her eyes back to mine. “That’s right. Told me to keep you two on a tight leash.”
“Ha! I’d have loved to see him try to put a leash on me,” Selene retorted. “He’d have ended up with a few less fingers than he was accustomed to!”
My eyes squeezed shut.
“It seems we might need a more thorough introduction down at the station,” Sheriff Bowman said, and neither her tone nor stone-cold expression left room for argument.
Before we could attempt to wriggle out of a sit-down chat in an interrogation room, the sheriff’s phone trilled out a high-pitched alarm. She jolted and reached for it, quickly bringing it to her ear. “Warden Quinton?”
Beside me, Selene’s eyes glowed brightly. “Aha. It’s about time…”
“What did you do now?” I hissed.
A host of emotions played across Sheriff Bowman’s face. “Yes, ma’am! I’m on my way!”
She listened for another moment, already signaling for three of the uniformed deputies who’d started processing the scene, while others stood to the side, keeping the nosy neighbors at a reasonable distance.
When she ended the abrupt call and shoved her phone back into her pocket, she tore a glance away from her team long enough to look back at the three of us. “Listen, I still have questions for you three, and I’ll expect your full cooperation when I have time to continue this conversation, but something’s come up.”
The phone rang a second time, and she winced, then ran for her squad car.
“I’ll just bet it has,” Selene purred.
I planted my hands on my hips and stared down at her. “All right, start talking!”
“Let’s just say I took a little inspiration from Sleeping Beauty, and Mirin’s about to get a wake-up kiss from Lady Justice herself.”
CHAPTER 20
“Istill don’t know quite how you pulled this one off,” I said, setting down a copy of the Winterspell Gazette, where the entirety of the front page had been cleared to give Tiffany Albright’s article the full spotlight.
Selene leaned over and gave a derisive sniff. “I still think she could have worked copydog into the headline.”
I smirked and reached for my coffee. It was one of those slow mornings where I was still in my pajamas and in no hurry to get out of them as the soft sunlight moved across the hardwood floors.
As it was, the headline read: MIRIN GALANIS AND HER DEADLY COPYCAT BEHIND BARS.
“It was really one of those two birds, one stone, things,” Selene added with a satisfied swish of her tail.
Frowning, I waved at the air, shooing away stray cat hairs before they could land in my mug.
“Once Mirin confirmed our theory about Kent and told me about the murder weapon, I figured she’d served her purpose, and then it was night-night time. She couldn’t see my plan if she was knocked out cold!”
“Do I even want to ask where the sleeping potion came from? Is that something you just keep on hand … or a special order?”
Selene flashed her tiny fangs. “I have my ways.”
“Yes, that’s the part that worries me.”
“Hey, it all worked out, didn’t it?”
Clint came into the kitchen, fresh from his morning jog and glowing with sweat. He removed one ear bud and leaned over to kiss me. “Morning, honey.”
Pippin trotted in after Clint, having stopped to gather a tennis ball on the way.
“Selene was just regaling me with the tale of her brilliance for the tenth time,” I said with a grin.
“Oh, brother.” Clint shook his head and chuckled as he crossed the kitchen to get a glass of water. “Make sure she doesn’t leave out the part where I saved the day.”
Selene narrowed her eyes in his direction. “I would have figured a way out of the shed … eventually.”
Clint grinned. “Come on, Selene. Give credit where credit is due!”
In the days that followed both Kent’s and Mirin’s arrests, Clint hadn’t so much as tried to strike a match with his magic, assuring me it had very much been fueled by panic and fear, and not something to attempt repeating. Which was fine by me. The goddesses knew there was enough magic already zinging around our home on any given day.
“Fine, fine,” Selene muttered. “You … helped. Are you happy?”
He leaned against the counter and chugged a few gulps, his eyes alight with amusement.
“I hope you realize that your pyrotechnics likely landed you on Sheriff Bowman’s watch list,” I added.
The three of us had already been trooped into the police department to give our official statements, but as Kent had pled guilty in exchange for a lighter sentence, there wasn’t much left to say, and the sheriff had let us go with a warning to keep out of trouble.
“I’m not too worried,” Clint said, setting the empty glass beside the sink as he pushed away from the counter. “Pretty soon I’ll be too busy to even think of getting into trouble. Which, reminds me, Cora, I need a final decision on the lease by Wednesday afternoon.”
“Mm-hmm.” I gave him a strained smile.
Clint pressed another quick kiss to my forehead and left the kitchen.
“When are you going to tell him the truth?” Selene asked when his footsteps faded down the hall.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She canted her head. “Come on, Cora. You look like you’re being herded off to the gallows every time he brings up the new shop.”
My nose scrunched. “That’s lovely imagery for ten o’clock in the morning.”
“Don’t change the subject!”
In the front room, Pippin started barking wildly, his toenails scrabbling against the floor.
Selene swore loudly. “Do something about your mutt, or I will!”
Abandoning my coffee, I jumped up and ran down the hall, reaching the agitated dog just as the doorbell rang.
“One second!” I snagged Pippin by the collar and started guiding him to the back door.
“Uh, Cora?” Selene called from the front of the house. “We’ve got a problem.”
Huffing, I pushed Pippin outside and closed the back door, then scrambled through the house to check the peephole.
Only to immediately wish I hadn’t.
“What is she doing here?” Selene hissed.
My mouth was suddenly too dry to speak.
The doorbell rang a second time.
With clammy hands, I unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door for Warden Quinton.
And Fluffy.
“Ack! What is that thing doing here?!” Selene screeched, already scaling the back of the couch to get away from the manticore.
Fluffy looked up at Warden Quinton with adoration, showing off the crystal-studded collar around his neck.
Warden Quinton smiled down at her new sidekick. “He needed a new home, and I decided I had something of a manticore-shaped hole in my life.” She leaned down and patted the creature on the head, sending the beast’s plated tail to quivering. “Fluffy’s doing quite nicely. He’s well on his way to becoming an official member of the Order.”
“My, my, how the standards have fallen,” Selene quipped.
Warden Quinton shot her a dark look as she straightened to her full height. She looped her hands together in front of her and exhaled. “May we come inside?”
I swallowed hard, knowing there wasn’t much of a choice in the matter.
“Of—of course,” I said, stepping out of the way.
The warden and her newly adopted pet followed my gesture and headed for the formal sitting room, just off the foyer. Fluffy sniffed at Selene’s cat bed, earning a hiss of displeasure from my pint-sized familiar.
“Easy,” I said, shooing her off the back of the couch before her claws could do further damage. It was only after taking a seat opposite the warden that I realized I was still in my pajamas, and I caved in on myself a bit.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” Warden Quinton began. I would be intimidated by her even if I wore a power suit and a full face of makeup, but to sit before her in faded leggings and a baggy t-shirt was downright unbearable. “But I will be leaving Winterspell this afternoon, and I’m not sure when I will be able to return. As you can imagine, the past few days have been a bit … hectic.”
I didn’t dare look at Selene. After the trick she’d played on Mirin, we knew there was more than a good chance the woman would rat us out to the warden and anyone else who would listen. But when nothing happened in the days after Mirin’s capture, we started to think we were in the clear. Selene even posited that it was possible Mirin couldn’t say anything until the terms of the blood pact were fulfilled.
And despite Selene’s impatient streak, she’d decided to wait for things to blow over a bit before trying to collect.
“I’m still not sure how she factors into everything that transpired here, but I don’t imagine her presence in Winterspell was merely a coincidence,” Warden Quinton continued. She took a beat, as though expecting one of us might chime in.
At our silence, she gave a subtle nod. “But until I have solid proof of my, theory, shall we say, my hands are tied.”
I could only hope they stayed that way, at least in this matter.
“So … you and your furry demon just popped in to say goodbye?” Selene said, still glowering at the manticore as he continued exploring the sitting room.
Warden Quinton frowned. “This is not public knowledge, but Mirin Galanis was moved to a different correctional facility today. As you can imagine, there are many considerations to make when incarcerating someone with her abilities, and it seems there were some miscalculations made when she was originally placed at the Northwest facility.”
“Gee, you think?” Selene muttered.
I elbowed her.
Warden Quinton’s lips pressed into a thin line as she gathered her thoughts. “Besides the obvious, Mirin was suffering in that facility, and that is not our aim. Thus, she has been moved to a facility that will be strict and dangerous, should she attempt a second escape, but should help alleviate the headaches and other symptoms she was experiencing.”
I bobbed my head, unsure what to say. My feelings toward the woman had not changed since her capture. On a human level, I didn’t want her to suffer needlessly, but that was about as much empathy I could muster, all things considered.
Warden Quinton reached into the pocket of her lightweight jacket—the one she always seemed to wear, regardless of the weather—and produced a white envelope. “All that to say, she will no longer be able to receive correspondence, as that was an integral part of her escape, but she asked me to pass this to you.”
She handed me the letter, though the lines at the corners of her mouth hinted at some unspoken reticence to do so.
I turned over the envelope, looking for signs that I was not the first to read its contents.
“I don’t know what it says,” Warden Quinton interjected. “Though, should you choose to share the contents, I would be willing to strike up some sort of immunity agreement—”
“For what?” Selene snapped.
Fluffy scampered into Warden Quinton’s lap, startled by the noise. She absently stroked his side.
“Seems like everyone ended up where they meant to,” Selene continued. “Harris’s real killer is behind bars, Mirin’s off to some underground bunker in the middle of Merlin-knows-where, and hey, the hellspawn even found a new home. Someone should write to Hallmark and pitch them on the story. Cause it just gives me the warm and fuzzies.”
“Enough, Selene.”
Warden Quinton rose to her feet, holding the manticore to her chest. “Despite what you seem to think, I’m not your enemy, Selene. And for all our sakes—” her eyes found mine, “—I hope that doesn’t need to change.”
I ducked my chin, focusing my attention on the sealed envelope in my hands.
“I’ll see myself out,” the warden said, not waiting before sweeping from the room.
The front door softly closed a moment later.
“What does it say?” Selene said, all but pouncing onto me. She swiped at the envelope, tearing a chunk from the flap.
“Stop it!” I barked. “Why aren’t you taking this more seriously! Did you hear anything the warden just said?”
“Did you? This is the last we’ll hear from Mirin, so if this doesn’t tell us how to reverse the bond, this was all for nothing!”
My molars clenched as I ripped the envelope and let Selene swipe the letter from my hands with a tendril of magic. She unfolded it, keeping the single white page suspended in mid-air.
As much as I wish for revenge, it seems the Three Sisters have other plans, and a role for you to play. And I suppose, there is some pleasure for me in giving you the answer to your query, as I doubt it will bring you any satisfaction.
The bond between you cannot be changed with time, for time itself has become meaningless.
Return what does not belong to you, as that is the only way to set the hands of time into motion again. The years of your ninth life may be short by comparison, but they will be entirely yours.
Pink sparks crushed the sheet of paper into a tiny ball and sent it into the opposite wall.
“Selene?”
“Leave it alone, Cora. It’s over now. This was all for nothing. The experiment failed.”
Selene continued to withdraw in the weeks following the warden’s visit. Any attempts to console her were met with blank stares or barbed comments, sharper than her usual jabs, and even extravagant meals consisting of all her favorites went largely untouched.
