Library Cat Magical Mysteries Box Set (Books 1-3), page 10
“Sure,” I said. “But it is your jurisdiction if they conspired together to kill Florian.”
“How do you figure?” he asked. I explained about how Florian had stolen his research then accused Magnus of academic dishonesty. “Magnus’s reputation was trashed. He wanted revenge. Professor Violeta wanted the appointment to Department Head. They could have planned it together.”
“Maybe,” he said. “It’s good enough to check out. Remember, that’s what the investigators said on episode four of the DWK doc. See who has the most to gain from a murder.” I’d forgotten I’d told him I’d been watching the Dark Wand Killer documentary.
“Unless it’s just a complete psychopath,” I said.
“Yeah, unless it’s one of those,” Rend said. “If it’s a psychopath, then we’re all in trouble. You swear it wasn’t you?” He looked me in the eye and I got the feeling he was using some of his Werewolf pheromone mind-control lie-detector powers.
“It wasn’t me,” I said.
“Okay,” he said. He squeezed his eyes shut for the briefest moment. “Good. You better not be lying to me, Francie.”
“I’m not,” I said.
“There’s one thing the Werewolf pack cannot abide, and that’s betrayal.”
“I know,” I said. “And I didn’t do it.”
“Alright then,” he said. “Then let’s go figure out who did.”
“Let’s?” I asked.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said. “By us I didn’t mean you.”
Chapter 15
On the way home, I fumed in the hot night air. Usually it was cooled off by now, but tonight I seemed to be burning up like a lizard on a hot stone in a patch of sun. Underneath my Academy robe, I was wearing an undershirt and leggings, so I shucked off the robe and slung it over my arm. It helped but not that much. I wasn’t overheating because of the weather. It was because I had just been accused of murder by our hot-but-off-limits Werewolf sheriff. He’d said he believed that I didn’t do it, but if the real killer was framing me, Rend would only be able to ignore so much evidence before he changed his mind and arrested me.
Kong appeared on the sidewalk. “Having a nice evening on the town?” I asked.
“Hardly,” he snorted. “My book club canceled at the last minute and I was stuck with an entire tray of salmon puffs.”
“I’m sure you had no trouble getting rid of those,” I said. “I think I see some pastry crumbs in your whiskers.”
“You lie,” he said, but stopped for a second to lick his paw and wipe at his muzzle a few times.
“I didn’t know you were in a book club,” I said. “You know we have one at the Archives.”
“This is a cat book club,” he said. “We read quality literature.”
“Excuse me,” I said. “What was the selection this month?”
“I doubt you’ve heard of it,” he said.
“I’m a librarian,” I said. “Of course I’ve at least heard of it. Unless it’s written in cat language.”
“Aren’t you a comedian,” he said. “If you must know, we read a riveting tale of suspense.”
“What was it about?” I asked.
“Two hapless victims fall prey to a transient predator,” he said. “He stalked them and picked the perfect time to attack when they were home alone and with no help around for miles.”
“Sounds grim,” I said.
“It was,” he said. “The villain was a scoundrel to be sure, six feet tall and festooned with a garish piece of headwear. He kept two of his brainwashed underlings imprisoned in a wooden crate so he could unleash the ravaging minions upon his victims—”
“Wait a second,” I said. “Were you reading The Cat in the Hat?”
“Dreadful book,” he said, shaking his head. “Can you believe that humans read it to their children?”
Couldn’t argue much with that.
We came upon the Academy. It was mostly dark, but a few windows were still lit up this late in the evening. “What’s that?” Kong said. I couldn’t see anything, but he has keener eyes than me.
“Where?”
“On the Spell Field,” he said. “I think it’s Lorelei.” I looked out onto the field and saw a hunched figure sprint across the grass. It could have been anyone, really, but Kong has a good sense of smell in addition to his eyesight.
“Let’s get a closer look,” I said. “If she’s sneaking around out there, it can’t be good.”
I pulled my Academy robe back down over my head to better blend in. We kept to the shadowy walkways along the buildings. We got as far as we could without being seen and stopped. Sound traveled very nicely across the empty field. I couldn’t place it at first, then I realized what it was.
A shovel sinking into dirt, then tossing it off to the side.
Lorelei was burying something.
“Go out and get a better look,” I told Kong. “She won’t notice you.”
“If she does, she’ll know you sent me,” Kong said.
“Then don’t get caught,” I said. I gave him a nudge with my shoe and he swiped at it with his claws. He galloped off into the field, going around the outer edge and taking cover by shrubs and rocks. He was gone for what seemed like forever before he came bounding back.
“She’s got a small hand spade, and she’s definitely burying something,” he said. “The ground is hardpan and it will be easy to find the place later, if you choose to unearth it.”
“I so choose,” I said. We waited in the shadows until she finished up, plopped a big rock over her work, and ran off back into the Academy building, presumably to her mother.
We waited a few minutes just to be safe, but when it seemed like Lorelei wasn’t coming back, we walked out to the place where she’d been digging.
“If anyone asks,” Kong said, “explain that you’re practicing your illumination spells.”
“But I’m pretty bad at those,” I said.
“Exactly,” he said.
The big rock stood out like a wart on a beauty queen’s nose—though, to be fair, much like our own physical faults that we obsess over, I’m not sure if anyone would have noticed if they weren’t looking for it. I bent down and moved the rock to the side. The dirt out here was hard, like a lump of Play-Doh you’d forgotten to put back in the canister. She’d had to fill the hole back in with crumbly chunks of hardpan and small rocks, so it was easy to find the item she’d buried.
It was an obelisk. Small, maybe about twelve inches tall. But it was heavy, that’s for sure. It appeared to be carved out of obsidian or maybe marble. As far as minerals go, let’s just say I failed my earth science class at the Academy. There were carvings on all four sides, and the wide base tapered to a pointy tip. It looked like the sort of historical artifact Professor Florian would have had on his desk.
And now Lorelei not only had it in her possession, but she was hiding it.
“She’s a tough little cuss, but there’s no way a thirteen-year-old girl was able to take down a portly guy like Professor Florian,” I whispered to Kong.
“Anything’s possible,” he said. “If she caught him unawares, maybe.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” I said. “But what would her motive be? She’s a pre-Academy student, so he’s not her teacher.”
“There’s another possibility,” Kong said. “That she didn’t do it at all, but that she’s merely disposing of the murder weapon on behalf of someone else.”
“But who would trust a kid to—” I didn’t even need to say the rest out loud. There was only one person in town who’d trust a kid to dispose of a murder weapon. And only one person a tough customer like Lorelei would do such a deed for.
Lady Hildegarde.
Chapter 16
The next morning, Lizzie came to take Sophie for the day. I woke up early, tossing and turning and not able to get back to sleep. Kong had no such problem and was curled up like a shrimp at the foot of my bed when I left the house.
I walked down Canal Street, trying to summon the willpower to not get a donut for breakfast. I wasn’t going to go Full-Lizzie and get a featherfly smoothie from Kit this morning, but I could at least get a real breakfast. I had my hand on the door handle of Soup and Sand Wedge when I peered through the glass and saw Fintan leaning up against the counter, waiting for his order.
No way was I going to go inside. He’d have leaped at the chance to bombard me with questions. The way my luck had been going, he’d have ended up misquoting me and making me look even more guilty.
This was a sign from the heavens. I was destined to get a donut today. Besides, the daily special was blueberry cream.
Penny was inside, with flour and icing smeared all over her apron. “Hey, Francie,” she said.
“Get me a blueberry cream donut and a coffee,” I said.
“I’ll have one too.”
I spun around and it was Fintan. He had a to-go bag from Soup and Sand Wedge in his hand and an arrogant smile on his face. It would have been infuriating if that cocksure grin didn’t suit him so perfectly. It matched his easy gait and rugged appearance.
I tried to think of something clever and witty to say to him, but I came up a total blank.
“Still no leads in the murder case?” Fintan asked.
“You’re asking me? I’m not a Werewolf.”
“That much is clear,” he said. “I’ve never seen a Werewolf this pretty before.”
I ignored his corny compliment… even if it made my stomach perform a teeny tiny backflip. “Just because the murder happened at the Archives doesn’t mean Rend Redclaw gives me special information.”
“I thought he gave you special information because you two were close,” Fintan said.
“We are not,” I said. “I promise.”
“You’re not dating?”
“No,” I said. “This is a small town; you’d know it if we were.”
“It’s a small town, sure, but every small town has secrets.”
“It’s not one of them,” I said.
“Good to know,” Fintan said.
“Why, are you going to do a write-up in the newspaper?” I asked. “Something for the society pages.”
“Ouch,” Fintan said. “I can tell you never read the newspaper. We don’t have a society section. But no, I’m not writing an article. I was going to ask you if you wanted to eat breakfast together. There’s a nice bench at the end of Canal Street, underneath the silverthorn tree.”
I glanced at Penny, who was busying herself wiping the counter, pretending not to listen.
“You’ve wiped that same square inch of countertop a hundred times,” I told her. “Get my donut, please. I’m in a hurry.”
“Cleanliness is next to Godliness,” she said.
“Fine, whatever,” I said. “Let’s go. But all I got was a donut and it’s a blueberry cream, so I’m probably going to snarf it down in two—possibly three—bites.”
“I love a woman who knows what she wants,” Fintan said.
“She wants a second one,” Penny chimed in.
“How long does it take to grab a donut and put it into the bag?”
“It’s the extra time and loving attention I give each donut that makes them so—”
“Come on!” I said.
“Don’t you see, Penny?” Fintan said, that arrogant smile resurfacing like a shark’s fin poking out of the water right before it strikes. “Francie’s eager to start our date.”
I wanted to die of embarrassment, but I tried to channel Kong’s haughty attitude. He’ll strut across the dinner table, lose his footing and fall on the ground, then get up and continue strutting like it was his plan all along.
I followed Fintan to the silverthorn tree. I sat down on the bench, putting a healthy distance between us, and sipped my coffee. I didn’t know what to say or what his angle was.
“I really just wanted to sit and talk,” he finally said. “You don’t have to be on guard.”
“Sorry,” I said. I wasn’t sorry at all. “But the murder has gotten me frazzled. Half the people in town seem to think I did it.” I was dangerously close to mentioning the so-called witness who had ‘seen’ me ditching evidence, but caught myself before I said too much to the newspaper writer.
“It must be hard,” he said. He unwrapped his breakfast sandwich and started eating. “Everyone’s going a little crazy. It’s a shame they had to cancel the Spelling Bee. How’s your niece holding up?”
“They what?” I said. If this had been a cartoon, I would have spit coffee in his face. But it was real life, so I awkwardly swallowed it and choked a little when a bubble got stuck in my throat and a few drops dribbled down my chin. I’m not sure which was more ignoble.
“This is why you have to read the paper,” he said. He had a leather satchel and reached into it and pulled out today’s edition.
The headline was “Spelling Bee Canceled.” I quickly scanned the article. Lady Hildegarde was postponing the event in the interest of safety. “It would be irresponsible to put our young witches at risk,” she had said.
“This is ridiculous,” I said. I knew that Lady Hildegarde was only doing this because she was scared that her daughter wasn’t going to win, so she’d called the whole thing off. What a coward.
“I can see why she’s uneasy holding a large event with a killer on the loose,” Fintan said. “Especially since a professor was killed. The murder might have something to do with the Academy.”
“I doubt the person who killed Professor Florian is planning violence at the Spelling Bee,” I said.
“I tend to agree with you,” he said. “But you know how people are.”
I knew how Lady Hildegarde was.
“Wouldn’t it be nice,” Fintan said, “if they got the killer? Lady Hildegarde would have to resume the Spelling Bee.”
“That would be nice,” I said. How I’d love to stick it to her. Then I realized what Fintan was up to. “Hey, you planned this whole thing, didn’t you?”
“Whatever do you mean?” he said and took another bite of his sandwich.
“You want to team up and solve the murder,” I said. “And you’re baiting me with the news that the Spelling Bee was canceled.”
“You want to team up?” he said. “What a great idea!”
“What’s in it for you?” I asked. “You just write about the news. Isn’t it better business for you if they don’t find the killer right away? You can milk it for all it’s worth. Day after day, you can scare people all over again with new articles about the murder and the incompetence of the Werewolf Law Enforcement Brigade.”
“Tempting…” he said. “But I prefer the killer to be caught.”
Fintan struck me as a man who did everything deliberately. If he wanted to go sleuthing, he had a pointed reason for it—even if he wasn’t telling me.
“I don’t have any information,” I said.
“I’m not sure about that,” he said. “Word on the street is that you’re trying to find the killer. You’re desperate to clear your name. And now you’re double-desperate to get the Spelling Bee back on. What do you say?”
“You’re just going to help me? For no reason?”
“Isn’t the company of a pretty lady reason enough?” he said.
“No,” Kong said. He came slinking from the other side of the street. “And Francie, it’s time to open the Archives. Ahab’s ranting about cannibals again.”
“Who’s Ahab?” Fintan asked. “Captain Ahab?”
“Long story,” I said. But I crammed the last bite of donut in my mouth and stood up. “Come by the Archives later if you find anything out. We can compare notes.”
“Will do,” he said. I swear, the only thing he was missing was a cowboy hat to tip in my direction. “See you later, Francie.”
At the Archives, Ahab was in a mood. He swore he was being stalked by cannibals.
“Captain?” I asked.
“Hide yourself, woman,” he shouted. “It ain’t safe for a lady. There be savages lurking in the stacks ready to flay you alive and roast you on the campfire.”
“That’s disgusting,” I said.
“Yar, that’s what I be trying to tell ye. Best to retreat while yer still in possession of yer hide.”
“Hey, Ahab,” I said. Sailors were purported to be extremely superstitious. Maybe he’d heard of the cursed books.
“If ye ain’t going to be quiet, then do some of yer devilry. Curse the savages to the pits of the abyss from whence they came!”
“Sure,” I said. If it would get him to relax so I could ask him about the cursed books. I took out my wand and thought of a flashy spell that would satisfy Ahab. I tried to illuminate the end of my wand, but instead of a soft orb of light the entire tip flared up in a wild blue flame.
“Ye truly be a witch, but I’m glad to have you on me crew!” Ahab said as he limped towards me.
“I have a question,” I said. “Have you heard folklore pertaining to six cursed books?”
“Aye, they speak of the Rotten Six from the Cape to the North Pole. Written not in ink—but in human blood. One will kill, two will thrill. What of them? Do you need them for your devilry?”
“I need to destroy them,” I said. “They’re real?”
“As real as the cannibals you just vanquished,” he said.
So this was what insanity was like.
It wasn’t so bad. Better than I thought it would be.
“Can you help me find them?”
“I’ll not have the accursed tomes aboard me vessel,” he said.
That would have been too easy. “Are there any folklore books about them? Can you help me find that book?”
“Of course,” he said. “Yer Captain is a man of letters. I’ll find what yer lookin for. You can use your hoodoo powers to break the curse.”
“Let’s hope so,” I said.
Ahab’s whalebone leg clicked and clanked all day long. I heard it in every corner of the Archives.
“What are the odds he actually turns something up?” I asked Kong.
“Quite good,” he said.
“Really?”
“He’s a man of brilliant, single-minded focus,” Kong said. “Give him a day or two. He’ll get what you need.”
