Witchin' Impossible, page 3
“Ow.” I squirmed when she clung to my jeans on the backside of my thigh. I was looking sooo not cool in front of the one person I wanted to look cool for. I glared down at the squirrel; her head poked out from around my ass, and her tail swished against the back of my thigh. “Tizzy,” I ordered. “Out.”
“But Haze—” she protested.
“Nope.” I cut off her argument. “Go be with Lily. I got this.”
She looked up at Ford and glared, her long eyelashes fluttering with anger. “If you hurt Hazel, I swear I’ll hunt you down and harvest your nuts.”
His eyes widened, and he cast the briefest of glances at his crotch before meeting my familiar’s hot gaze. “Duly noted.”
She harrumphed loudly, and it sounded more like someone stepped on a dog toy. “I have my eyes on you, Grizzly Adams.” With two fingers, she pointed at her eyes and up to his and back to hers. “Watch your back.” After her final warning, she ran between Ford’s legs and out of the room.
“She’s intense,” he said.
I blew out a breath. “You’re not kidding.”
He jangled his cuffs. “The easy way or the hard way, Kinsey.”
“Are you really going to be a douche about this?”
“That’s Officer Douche.”
He was not going to let up or let me go, so I nodded. “Fine. The easy way. For now.”
The Paradise Falls Police Station hadn’t changed too much on the outside over the past fifteen years, and the inside was just as underwhelming. We were let inside the locked door by Officer Givens, a plump but pleasant woman dressed in full uniform. The air inside was stale, and I felt a little claustrophobic. It was, after all, the nightmare of my childhood, thanks to Dirk Nichols. The chief, at the time, had been Charlie Tibbs, a good old boy werebadger with a badge. He was the only reason I’d managed to get out of Paradise Falls with a clean record. The way the police were handling Danny’s murder told me the town was worse off without him.
I wanted to ask Ford why he smelled so much like a streusel topping all the time, but instead, I asked, “Why has the investigation stalled on Danny Mason?”
His cheeks reddened for a moment, but he didn’t answer.
“Is it true every bone was broken in his body?”
“I’m not allowed to discuss an open investigation.”
“Is it, though? An open investigation?” Yes, I was pushing buttons, but I needed more information on the case, and maybe I could goad him into saying something that might help me help Lily. Either that, or I was upset he didn’t seem to recognize me at all. “What happened to him was more than a troubled young man getting what was coming to him? I know Danny wasn’t a peach, but damn, he didn’t deserve this.”
Ford’s gaze connected with mine. “Why did you come back here, Hazel?”
“Oh.” I crossed my arms. “You do remember me then.”
The spicy scent of him grew stronger as his gaze briefly met mine. He pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit near a small desk. He took the seat in front where an old computer took up space.
“I remember you.” He typed into the keyboard. A beep sounded. The screen came up with a brown-and-white scheme. “Full name.”
“This is dumb.”
“Is that a legal name change, or just something you like to go by?” I saw the hint of a smile curl the corner of his mouth.
So he wasn’t a complete robot. “Hazel Marie Kinsey,” I answered.
“Date of birth.”
“Old enough.”
“Date of birth,” he repeated.
“I’m an agent with the FBI,” I told him, “not a criminal, and I don’t like being treated like one.”
“This is a witness statement. Not a criminal report.”
“Not the point.”
“Kinda is.”
“Fine.” I slouched in a pouty huff…then remembered the card the Grand Inquisitor had given me. I grabbed my wallet, pulled out the little white rectangle that said “pass” and slid it across the desk.
Ford growled. “I’ll let the chief know when he gets back from the crime scene. Until then, make yourself comfortable.”
I smirked. “I’ll do that.”
Three hours, two vending machine vanilla cakes with pink frosting, and one bad cup of coffee later, Chief Nichols ushered me into his office. “I don’t like this one damn bit, Mizz Kinsey. This is my town. I really ought to throw you out on your butt.”
I curled my lip. “Did you talk to the Grand Inquisitor?”
His blanching cheeks told me he had. “You should have checked in with me the minute you hit town.”
“I was planning on it first thing in the morning. How in the heck was I supposed to know Lily Mason’s neighbor was going to die?” I didn’t add “in a gruesome, most horrifying and awful way.” I think that part was implied.
“Can’t be helped now,” he blustered. “Being related to Clementine Battles will get you no special favors here, Kinsey.” Anger wrinkled his forehead, marring his unlined face. He wasn’t ugly. But, even so, past his full head of blond hair and symmetrical features, there was nothing appealing about the man. He was the kind of guy who wore his warts on the inside. “It didn’t save your father from prison,” he added, “and it damn sure won’t save you if you get in my way.”
My anger matched his, but I used my training to appear stoic and unruffled. “I need all the investigation files and notes you have on Daniel Mason.” I resisted calling him Dick. He might be under orders to cooperate, but I was certain he planned to make things difficult for me.
His expression soured even more. “I’ll have Officer Baylor get you whatever files you require, but nothing leaves this station. You understand me?”
“Perfectly.”
He grunted. “As long as we’re clear.”
“Crystal,” I told him.
“You’re still an asshole,” he said.
“Ditto that, Chief.”
His lips thinned out as he frowned. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Mizzz Kinsey?”
I didn’t bother to correct him with a “Special Agent” comeback. I simply said, “Nope. The files are good for now.”
“Then get the hell out of my office.”
I stood up, turned on my heel, and did as I was told.
On the way out, I saw John and Joy Decker clinging to each other in the hall outside. A man with black hair and a salt-and-pepper beard sat with them. He murmured quiet comforts to the grieving parents. John looked up at me, his brown eyes glistening with tears.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Decker,” I said with sympathy.
Joy sobbed harder, but John tightened his mouth and nodded. “Thank you, Hazel.”
“Hazel Kinsey?” The man next to them stood up and held out his hand. “I’m Robert Townsend, a good friend of the Deckers. If I can do anything to aid you in your investigation, let me know.”
How did he know I was investigating?
I could feel the power in his grip as he shook my hand. “I’m the alpha of the paullulum mammalia.”
I’ll admit that I wasn’t well-versed in shifter hierarchy. Lily and I rarely talked about the differences between witches and therianthropes. We knew how to make each other laugh, and we always had each other’s backs. Even so, I wouldn’t know a paullulum from a pole dance. “I apologize, but I’m not familiar with the term,” I said to Townsend.
“It encompasses all the small animal shifters,” he explained.
Ah. He was the head mucky-muck over the chipmunk, beaver, badger, rabbit, and raccoon shifters in the area. Which meant he was part of the Witch-Shifter council. He would’ve been apprised of my arrival. “I appreciate your cooperation, sir.”
He gave me a smile that both reflected friendliness and proper decorum for the mood in the hall.
To the Deckers, I said, “I’ll be at Lily’s house for the next week or so. If you all need anything, please let me know.”
CHAPTER 4
The sparsely furnished guest bedroom at Lily’s consisted of a full-size bed with a worn but clean quilt. The colorful blanket made of l and sage green blocks had belonged to Lily’s great-great-grandmother. It had been handed down from one daughter to the next until Lily’s mom was presented with it on her wedding day. Now that her mom was dead, Lily had become its keeper. I envied her the cozy history of a loving family, something I’d never really experienced. My mother had been a cold woman.
The rest of the room had been designed for utility. There was an ironing board in the corner. Several large, green storage tubs—the kind you can pick up at the general store—were stacked near the closet. The vanity had an oval mirror that had lost a distracting amount of silvering.
I sat on the edge of the bed staring at Danny’s slim police file. Despite Nichols’ order, I’d snuck it out of the police station. Screw Dick and his attitude about me and my investigation. Besides, it had been difficult to concentrate with Ford’s scent covering every inch of the place. As I read through the limited investigation, the thing that angered me the most was how little had been done to find Danny’s killer. It made me want to punch someone in the throat.
I rolled over on the mattress and combed through what information the police had gathered. Next, I jotted down a few key details and photographed anything else I thought important. The crime scene report had been written by Dennis Mitchel. He’d been the lead detective on the case. I’d asked for a meeting with him, but Ford had told me he’d taken a leave of absence for a family emergency. Bad for me. Good for Mitchel. I wanted to grill his nards over an open flame. There were more holes in this investigation than a colander.
The report said that Danny’s body was found in a folded heap in an abandoned barn out on the edge of town. The property had gone into foreclosure five years earlier and was currently owned by the bank. Very little blood had been found at the scene other than a small amount that had dried around Danny’s mouth. His face had been as bloated and purple as the rest of his body. Unidentifiable.
If it hadn’t been for the wallet in his pocket that contained his driver’s license, it would’ve taken much longer to identify him. Along with the license, his wallet contained a Paradise Falls Grocer card, a family picture of him and Lily with their parents when he was five years old, and seven dollars in ones.
The toxicology report showed trace evidence of ketamine, barely enough to even effect a shifter. The autopsy report confirmed what Lily had told me. Every bone in Danny’s body had been broken. Not a single one had been missed, from the individual plates in his skull down to the tips of his toes. Even the tiny bones inside his ears had been cracked. No wonder he’d been unrecognizable in the crime scene photos.
I felt sick while reading about the 205 bones broken before the rib fracture that punctured his heart. Who or what could’ve done that? Be so precise? And how long had they made Danny suffer?
I shuddered, pushing the thought to the back of my mind.
Other than his body, no other material evidence had been found. No fingerprints, stray hairs, or fibers. There had been no footprints at the scene either. Someone had managed to kill Danny and dump his body in a dirt-floor barn without leaving even the tiniest scuff mark behind.
I had to stop thinking of the victim as Danny. I had to put my emotions aside if I wanted to be the person Lily needed me to be, but the more I read about the case, the harder it was to stay dispassionate.
Lily’s gentle knock on the door had me closing my notes fast and shoving them and the police file under the pillow. She cracked the door open.
“Hey,” she said, her eyes red with exhaustion. “Can I come in?”
“Of course,” I said a little too brightly. “It’s been a rough day, huh?”
“Rough year,” she amended.
I was an idiot. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Lils. I didn’t mean—”
Her simple smile let me off the hook. “I’ve missed you. I’m so glad you’re here.” She leaned forward, and her smile grew wider. “I can’t believe Dick Knuckles had you hauled down to the station. What a butt-wipe.”
“No kidding.” I patted the bed as an invitation for her to sit next to me. “And who the hell does Officer Baylor think he is, threatening to cuff me? I’m a federal agent, for the love of Pete.”
“You mean Officer Woo-woo, don’t you?” Her smile verged on a grin now as she took the offer. “Or at least that’s what you called him in high school. Ford “Woo-woo” Baylor, because every time you saw him, you’d say woo-woo.”
A hot flush crept to my cheeks. “I’m not having this conversation.”
“Woooo-woo,” she teased. “You pined for that boy like nobody’s business our senior year.”
“Because it was nobody’s business,” I countered. I had to admit, I was glad to see Lily having fun, even if it was at my expense. I smirked. “I crushed on him hardcore, didn’t I?”
“Uhm, if by hardcore you mean writing Mrs. Haze Baylor all over your spiral notebooks and tennis shoes every day, then yes, I’ll agree, you crushed on him hardcore.”
“I hate you.”
“You’re a detective.” Lily spread her hands wide. “The evidence speaks for itself.”
I laughed. She wasn’t wrong. I think there were a few textbooks I’d graffitied as well. Ford had been, as my teenage self would have said, dreamy. Nothing had changed in that department. He still looked and smelled better than any man I’d ever met.
“I’m sure he’s happily married with a dozen cubs by now.” I frowned at the unhappy thought.
“You know therians actually have babies, right?”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “Did he marry Greta Sharp?” She’d been a bear shifter like Ford, and the two of them had been Prom King and Queen our senior year.
“He didn’t mate with Greta.”
“Then who?”
Lily grinned. “He’s single.”
A wave of adrenaline rushed through me, raising gooseflesh on my skin. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. I hear about him dating occasionally, but nothing has stuck.” She gave me a meaningful look, which I poo-pooed away.
“He barely remembered me from high school, Lily. Besides, I’ve moved on with my life.”
“I can see that by the ring on your finger and your phone gallery full of pictures of your children.”
“Smart-ass.”
“Smart cougar,” she corrected. “The ass shifters live in another part of town.”
We fell into a fit of laughter verging on hysteria. Frankly, it was better than crying our eyes out. After a few minutes, we settled down. Lily reclined on the bed next to me, both of us staring at the flaking popcorn ceiling.
“I used to love coming here,” I told her. “It was my favorite place in Paradise Falls.” I turned my head and looked at her. “Amend that. Anywhere we could hang out together was my favorite place to be.”
“Same here,” she told me. Her voice was quiet as she asked, “What happened to Boyd? The morgue guys rolled out something large and lumpy in a black zipped-up bag. It didn’t look like a person was in there.”
The horrific image of Boyd waving at me with black claws popped into my head. I shuddered. “It didn’t look much like a person out of the bag, either.”
“How awful.”
“Did Danny and Boyd hang out?”
“Do you think the two deaths are related?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” The two deaths were months apart, but the unusual circumstances of both cases made me wonder. “I’ll have to wait and see what Boyd’s autopsy shows. The only two things both of them have in common is the bizarre, unexplained nature. I mean, Boyd looked like something out of a D horror movie.”
“Magic or was it a physical attack?” she asked.
I shook my head. “It looked like something only witch magic could do. However, I didn’t feel any residual magic in the room or on the victim.”
She cast me a wary glance that made my heart hurt. “Are you sure?”
“I cross my heart, Lily.” I touched her hand. “Do you think Danny’s death was caused by a spell?”
She shrugged, her green eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I don’t know. I thought maybe…but the medical examiner had said no. It all felt like someone was trying to cover something up.”
“I don’t blame you for being suspicious. I thought Boyd’s death was magical as well, which is why I checked. But honest, Lils, I felt nothing.”
“Well, you always say you’re a terrible witch. Can you be wrong?”
I forced a smile because I knew she was only half teasing about the terrible witch comment. “Not in this case. I may not be any good at spellcasting and such, but it’s innate in my kind to be able to feel our kind of magic. And there is no spell that can block it because we’d feel the blocking spell.”
She nodded. “And was Boyd like… Was he broken like Danny?”
“No.” I shuddered as I thought about Boyd’s misshapen form. “If I hadn’t seen him for myself—like, if I’d seen it in a picture or on the computer—I would have thought he was photoshopped. I’d never seen anything so awful.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know, Lils. It’s kind of terrible.”
“I’m not a delicate flower, Haze. No matter what my parents named me.”
That’s my Lily, I thought. She might only be a tiny five feet two inches, but she was always the stronger one between the two of us. I’d relied on her strength so many times when we were young. Then her parents died.
Shame filled me. I’d left her behind. I had been so caught up in my own drama with my mother’s death, and my father being hauled off to jail for her murder. Before his mother had come to take him away, he’d told me to leave Paradise Falls as soon as I could, and I did. I couldn’t run soon enough or fast enough for my taste. And over the years, I’d rarely looked back.
“Come on, Hazel,” Lily said. “I need to know.”
I sighed. “Okay, I’m not sure how to describe it though. Uhm, have you ever heard of those weird twin tumors, where they find big lumps of flesh with teeth and hair and other gross stuff inside someone?”
