Whispers on the Wind, page 15
I inched closer to Kitsune, drawn by his unwavering resolve. The mysteries surrounding Victoria's death were like threads in a complex tapestry, and they were beginning to unravel.
“You have no proof of this,” he said. “Your claims are nothing but wild conjectures."
"I’m sure The Pour House will show us you were there to dump her body.”
“Or perhaps it won’t show anything,” the curator said. There was a confidence in his tone, one I didn’t like. “Those cameras don’t face where the body was found, do they? In fact, she was found in the same location the Lancaster kid and that woman were, wasn’t she?”
As his implications hung in the tense air, a fiery rage coursed through my veins. I felt an overwhelming urge to respond, to vehemently reject his insinuations, but before I could unleash my fury, Kitsune's firm yet gentle hand settled on my shoulder. His touch, like a calming balm, held me back, silently conveying that now wasn't the time for a confrontation even though he deserved it.
“No one actually caught the Badge Hunter, did they?” he continued, his words dripping out of his mouth like drool. “In fact, you were supposed to be the one to stop him, weren’t you? But you failed. You failed, and your fellow officers are dead. And you still haven’t done anything, have you? It’s been three years, and nothing. You’re a pathetic shell of the man you were. And the most amusing thing is that you’ll never figure it out.” His words dripped with a smug undercurrent, an unspoken challenge aimed at Kitsune.
Kitsune, cool and collected, remained unfazed. His gaze bore into Henderson’s, unwavering and intense. He wasn't one to engage in a battle of words. I knew this.
But I did. It was what got me into trouble with Alexander. It was definitely going to get me in trouble with this asshole.
I glanced at Kitsune, searching for a response, but his steely resolve remained unshaken. Part of me was mad at Kitsune for being so in control. I wanted him to go off. I wanted him to rip into this man. But he didn’t, and I didn’t understand why.
“What does the Badge Hunter have anything to do with Victoria Scheffeld?” I asked.
Henderson turned to me with a piercing stare. "Victoria was a talented artist, no doubt about that,” he acknowledged. “But she came with baggage, the kind I didn't want to deal with.” His eyes hardened with past frustrations. “Adrian Lancaster had been the one who had vouched for her, insisted on giving her a chance to better herself through the art scholarship. A decision that I didn't entirely agree with. This is a family event, and criminals and vagrants shouldn’t be allowed to participate, especially with Baron breathing down my neck. Everything was riding on me. Don’t you understand? I’m sure you can, Kitsune. Wasn’t the Badge Hunter’s capture riding on you?” Before Kitsune could respond, he continued. “And her troubles didn't end there. Men, angry and threatening, came demanding payment for her debts. They thought that because she knew Adrian, we'd cover her financial troubles. She was a risk.”
“But why?” I asked. “If Adrian gave her money, she’d be free. They wouldn’t come after her anymore. You wouldn’t have to worry about the men anymore. You didn’t have to kill her.”
“Of course I did, you ignorant fool,” Henderson said with a sneer. “I had to take her out before things got worse. She has a history. One step out of line, and I lose my job forever. Everything I worked for. I’m the one responsible for bringing tourism back after those murders. And she was going to ruin it with her vices. She had to be put down. There’s never just once with these people.”
I couldn't help but let out a loose breath as the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place. We had figured out who had been responsible for Victoria's death, and at last, she could be laid to rest. The sense of closure was heavy, tinged with the bitterness of the truth we had uncovered.
Kitsune made the call to George, his voice steady and unwavering. George would bring the curator in himself. Justice would be served.
"The Badge Hunter isn't gone, you know," he hissed, his voice cold and menacing. Even in his defeat, he still had vitriol to spew. "And now that you have someone dumb enough to work with you again, he'll be back. He'll always be back."
His laughter echoed through the room, eerie and haunting. It was a grim reminder that the darkness that had plagued our town wasn't vanquished with one revelation. The Badge Hunter remained a sinister presence, lurking in the shadows, and his return was a sinister cloud that now hung over us.
I looked at Kitsune and was surprised to see his eyes already on me. I couldn’t decipher the look on his face, but there was an intensity behind it.
I tilted my head, furrowing my brows in concern. I wanted to ask if he was okay, but not yet. Not in front of this murderer.
Kitsune seemed to snap out of it. He looked away, sliding his hands in his jacket, but I could still see his eyes so clearly in my mind.
He was haunted.
Regardless of his unflappable demeanor, what the curator said got to him.
Chapter 24
The beach stretched out before us, bathed in the warm, golden hues of the setting sun. The art festival was in full swing, and the shore was a bustling hub of activity. Stalls and booths lined the waterfront, displaying a kaleidoscope of colorful artwork, crafts, and tempting treats. Though the spring evening carried a slight chill in the breeze, it couldn't dampen the lively spirit of the occasion. The salty tang of the ocean blended with the enticing aromas wafting from the food vendors, filling the air with a unique blend of scents.
As we stood at the water's edge, the cool sand cradling our feet, the beach was a vivid tapestry of life. Families, both local and tourists, meandered along the shoreline. Children's laughter was a constant melody as they busied themselves building sandcastles and collecting seashells. The sounds of live music drifted from a nearby stage, infusing the entire scene with a celebratory energy. And in the background, the ocean waves whispered their secrets, providing a soothing undertone to the festival's lively atmosphere.
For a moment, Kitsune, George, and I gazed out at the bay. Despite the spring chill, the ambiance enveloped us like a comforting embrace. It was a testament to the resilience of our town, a place where art, culture, and community thrived, even after the darkness that had plagued it.
We watched as the crowds moved around us, their conversations and laughter forming a backdrop to our contemplative silence. The sun, in its final descent beyond the horizon, painted the sky with vivid shades of pink and orange.
"Victoria would have loved this," George whispered, a trace of melancholy in his voice. Turning toward Kitsune, he continued, gratitude etched in every line of his face. "Thanks for getting my sister's artwork showcased, Kitsune. It means more than you can imagine."
Kitsune inclined his head in acknowledgment. “While I would love to take credit for it,” he said, “Rose was the one who pulled it off.”
Feeling a flush of pride, I smiled. My encounter with Adrian had been surprisingly productive, despite my initial reluctance to approach him. That I now owed him a favor remained a closely guarded secret. There was no need to reveal that small detail. What mattered most was that Victoria's art was on full display, continuing to captivate hearts and minds alike.
The festival was a lively spectacle of creativity, with artists showcasing their talents and visitors delighting in the ocean-inspired artwork. The weather had a nip of chill, a lingering trace of winter in the early spring air. The gentle sound of waves served as the backdrop to the myriad colors and sounds, a soothing reminder of Cherry Blossom Bay's unique charm.
Amid the buzz of tourists and locals alike, George's eyes glittered with the emotion of the moment. The festival was a testament to his sister's legacy, a celebration of her talent, and a tribute to the art that had touched so many lives.
His hand landed on Kitsune's shoulder in a firm, heartfelt clap. "Regardless," he began, "I appreciate all the work you two put into this. It means the world."
Kitsune nodded, his expression softening as he watched George disappear into the lively crowd of the festival. As George blended in with the merriment, I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. The artwork was now a beacon of beauty for all to see, a testament to Victoria's enduring legacy.
With the weight of George's gratitude, Kitsune and I shared a moment of quiet reflection, the sound of the ocean serving as a gentle backdrop to our thoughts.
As the festival continued in full swing, Kitsune, and I remained on the beach. He raised an eyebrow as we watched the festival's vibrant atmosphere.
"I'm surprised Maru hasn't taken you to something like this," he commented.
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Maru's not exactly the festival type," I replied. "He's more into, you know, quiet evenings and good books. Chess.”
"But come on, Rose. A festival, the excitement, the crowds... It might be fun." He shrugged.
I shot him a look. "Fun doesn't always have to mean noisy festivals, Kitsune."
“Don’t forget the food,” he said.
I made a face. “I’m surprised you’re not here, trying to gobble up as much artery-blocking fried foods as possible,” I said.
“How can I, with you here?” he shot back.
“I’m not on the clock,” I pointed out.
Kitsune flashed an impish grin. "How do you know you don't like fried food if you've never tried some? Come on," he insisted. "I'll get you a funnel cake just to watch you eat it."
The mere mention of fried dough and powdered sugar made my stomach grumble in agreement, despite my high horse about greasy food. With a laugh, I surrendered this once. “All right, you've convinced me,” I said. “A funnel cake it is."
Kitsune's eyes sparkled with mischief as we ventured further into the festival, the promise of an indulgent treat adding an extra layer of sweetness to the vibrant celebration.
We strolled deeper into the heart of the festival together. I couldn't help but feel the lively energy of the place. Booths with vibrant paintings, intricate sculptures, and even unique jewelry adorned the streets. The sweet aroma of cotton candy mingled with the savory scent of grilling sausages. Laughter and music filled the air, punctuated by the delighted shouts of kids on carnival rides.
As we approached the concession stands, the sizzle of frying dough grew louder, and my anticipation grew. Kitsune ordered a generously powdered funnel cake, and I watched with a mix of curiosity and hunger as the vendor artfully drizzled the batter into the hot oil. Soon, he pulled out a golden-brown, steaming cake, a generous dusting of powdered sugar, whip cream (because Kitsune insisted on extra whipped cream) as white as snow and fresh strawberries.
He handed me a plate with the funnel cake, and I gingerly took a bite, the crispy exterior giving way to a fluffy, warm interior. Powdered sugar stuck to my lips, and I couldn't help but laugh. It was delicious, a delightful mix of sweetness and fried goodness.
Kitsune leaned against the food truck, watching me with evident amusement. "So," he teased between bites of his own. "What do you think of your first funnel cake?"
I swallowed a mouthful and grinned at him. “I think I've been missing out,” I said. “This is incredible."
“You've got a little whipped cream on your lips,” he said.
I reached up, but before I could do anything, his fingers gently brushed the creamy speck from the corner of my mouth. His touch was surprisingly tender, and for a heartbeat, everything around us seemed to fade into the background.
"Got it," he said softly, our eyes locking for a moment, and then he withdrew his hand.
I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Kitsune wasn’t the type to touch. I knew that. And yet, every time we touched, my body filled with warmth, and I prayed he would linger. I counted the seconds, practically begging for at least one more. I was being foolish; I knew. Kitsune was older than me, and he probably wasn’t looking to get into any sort of relationship, not being haunted by his past.
I thought I was competing with a dead girl, but maybe I wasn’t competing at all.
Maybe I was nowhere near Lynn.
And then I felt bad because I was jealous, and she was dead.
What was wrong with me?
Kitsune didn't seem to notice, or maybe he did and chose not to acknowledge it. Instead, he casually reached over and plucked a strawberry from the funnel cake before plopping it in his mouth.
“Kitsune,” I said. I knew I needed to talk to him. I doubted I would find the right words, but I had to try. “About what the curator said—"
He cut me off after finishing the strawberry. “He was just trying to ruffle my feathers, Rose,” he said. “Don't take it too seriously. I certainly don’t."
I nodded, but the unease persisted. “I know, but it got me thinking,” I said, chewing my bottom lip. “About the danger we might be in. About the Badge Hunter."
Kitsune glanced at me, a seriousness in his eyes that contrasted with the festival's lively backdrop. “I've been in this game for a while,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I looked at him squarely. “That's not what I'm saying,” I said. “I want you to know that I'm with you, no matter what. I won't run away when things get tough. We're a team, and that isn’t going to change."
Kitsune gave me a long, measured look. The intensity of the gaze caused my feet to root in the sand. Normally, he was unflappable, but right now, he was serious. Intense. “We are a team,” he said with a nod, “but there might come a time when our partnership has to end. If I ever release you from your position because of a threat, you need to listen to me, no matter what. I won't risk you."
His words, well-intentioned as they were, struck a nerve. Frustration flared within me. "So, it's okay to risk yourself?" I retorted, my voice edged with exasperation.
Kitsune's gaze remained steady. “That's different.” He slid his hands in his pockets. “This has always been my case. I owe it to the lives lost, and I won't let you be one of them. If you can't understand that, you might as well leave now."
The weight of his words sank in, and I felt the gravity of the situation. This was more than a professional stance; it was a personal conviction for him. The tension lingered, the festival's lively backdrop contrasting sharply with the seriousness of our conversation. I took a moment to collect my thoughts before responding.
“I know you think I don’t have any personal connections to the case, but I do,” I said. I turned my gaze to the horizon. White sailboats dotted the glittering ocean, and the cherry blossoms blew gently in the wind from the nearby trees. “You. You’re involved which means I’m involved. Whether or not you like it, we're in this together. If you're willing to face the danger, so am I. I won't let you carry this burden alone. You don’t have to."
His expression softened. “I appreciate your determination, but you need to trust me to make the right calls,” he said. “I won’t let you turn into me. He wasn’t wrong, you know. I am the shell of my former self, chasing ghosts. But that’s because I chose to be. You…you’re life. You’re joy. And you’re obnoxiously healthy unless you’re eating funnel cake. If I lose the Piper I know because you’ve turned cynical the way I have, I’ll have considered that a loss. And I won’t. I won't lose you to this case."
“What does that mean?” I asked. I wasn’t hungry anymore. In fact, I was ready to throw up. “Are you…are you firing me?”
Kitsune’s eyes snapped into mine. “Of course not,” he said. “Not unless you try to make me eat another salad, especially one Helen makes. Then I really will fire you. But, for now…” He let his voice trail off.
I didn’t agree with this.
I wanted Kitsune to realize that I wasn’t going to be afraid of this.
I meant what I said. I wouldn’t leave.
But I also knew he wouldn’t listen.
For now, the Badge Hunter was still gone. For now, we were safe.
But deep down, I knew that wouldn’t last.
At some point, the Badge Hunter would come back and Kitsune would try to send me away. But unbeknownst to him, I wasn’t going to let him.
Book 3 will be out in June, 2024!
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When a storm uncovers hidden passageways beneath Cherry Blossom Bay's haunted lighthouse, Piper and Kitsune unearth a century-old mystery entwining a cursed amulet, a tragic love affair, and a ghostly keeper whose secrets could doom them both.
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Acknowledgments
My family
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My friends
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Sarah Paige - for the amazing cover
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My husband
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My children
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And last but not least, my readers
H. C. Cardona, Whispers on the Wind
