Cloaks and Daggers Page 17

  The fairy unclenched her hands. “I don’t understand. Are you saying I didn’t kill her?”

  “No, someone else did.” And now I still had to figure out who that someone was. “Did you take her journal by any chance?”

  “No,” Paige said. “I probably should have, but I didn’t even think of it. I acted in the heat of the moment and then I tried to block it out.”

  Which meant that the real killer likely had the journal, or had disposed of it.

  “I was sure Jim would be able to sense what I’d done,” she continued. “The hardest thing I ever had to do was crawl into bed with him that night.”

  “Andrea was your friend,” I reminded her. “Your sister-in-law.”

  Relief washed over her delicate features. “Yes, but I didn’t do it,” she whispered. “I didn’t kill her.”

  “You still stabbed her.”

  Paige didn’t seem to hear me. “What does this mean? Nothing happens to me? I’m off the hook?”

  “Jim said you’re a lawyer,” I said. “Don’t you know?”

  “I practice land use,” Paige said, her nose wrinkled in derision. “I chose the most boring branch of law imaginable. Why do you think I collect butterflies? I needed something beautiful in my life to keep my soul from withering and dying.”

  “You’ll still be charged with attempted murder. You acted with the intent to kill. The fact that you didn’t know she was dead doesn’t change that fact.”

  “So Andrea wins again,” Paige whispered.

  “No,” I said. “This time, you both lose.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  An hour later I met Sheriff Astrid outside her office after Paige had been brought into custody.

  “Britta is processing Paige,” Sheriff Astrid said. “Jim’s in there too.”

  I felt a pang of sympathy for the elf. “How is he?”

  “Pretty much how you’d expect,” Sheriff Astrid said. “Stunned, upset, confused. Britta brought him a cup of tea and set him up in the conference room to hang out.”

  “We need to search for the journal,” I said. “I tried a locator spell, but it didn’t turn up.”

  “I wasn’t able to collect all the phones,” she said. “The rest refused to cooperate and demanded a legal order to turn them over.”

  “You’d think they’d want to get this over with quickly.”

  “What do you suggest next?” the sheriff asked.

  “A reveal spell,” I said. “If someone’s cloaking the journal, we can try to see past their spell.”

  “Doesn’t that mean it’s Bethany? She and Paige are the only two magic users and Paige said she didn’t take it. She has no reason to lie now.”

  “It’s not necessarily a magic user,” I said. “The spell isn’t difficult. A simple trip to the magic shop would be all the killer needed to do.”

  Sheriff Astrid adjusted the star-shaped badge affixed to her shirt. “I’m ready. Where should we start?”

  “It’ll be faster if we split up. You take Ashini, Ryan, and Natalya, and I’ll take Adam, Bethany, and Jackie,” I said.

  “What about Jim?” she asked. “We should still check his belongings.”

  “Good point.” And it would be easier while he’s elsewhere.

  “I’ll do it,” the Valkyrie said. “Ashini and Ryan are in the same room anyway.”

  “Take Ginger or Meg with you,” I said. “Either one can do the reveal spell.”

  “Maybe you should take backup,” the sheriff said.

  “I have it right here.” I patted the wand in my waistband. “Besides, we’re only looking for the journal. If I find it, I’ll let you know and you can take it from there.”

  “Sounds good. You know where to find Jackie already. Adam and Bethany have rented rooms at the back of The Spotted Owl. Apparently she has to stay within fifty feet of him when on location as part of her contract.”

  I winced. “Spell’s bells, I don’t envy her life.”

  Sheriff Astrid shrugged. “Bethany can always quit. She’s his employee, not his royal subject.” She walked off in the direction of Odyssey.

  I decided to hedge my bets and start with Bethany’s room. The sheriff was right—as a pixie, she was the only magic user left in the group and I had to start somewhere. The Spotted Owl wasn’t a long walk, and I could use the exercise. Although I’d lost most of the pregnancy weight, there was still an extra lawyer around my belly that stubbornly refused to vacate the premises. It felt good to have my equilibrium back, not that I’d magically morphed into some kind of graceful gazelle post-baby. I was as prone to trip on the cobblestone now as I was before my pregnancy.

  As I strolled through town, I tried to wrap my head around Andrea and Paige’s complicated relationship. I’d always felt sad to be an only child and to have so little family. Maybe it was for the best. Of course, Calix threatened to change all that. I still had no idea how to feel about his presence. I would simply have to take my time in processing my emotions. I didn’t owe him a timeline.

  I entered The Spotted Owl and asked the bartender for Bethany’s room number. Although I knew there were available rooms above the pub, I’d never known anyone to actually stay there.

  “Upstairs, first door on the right,” he said. “Not sure if she’s there though. I only got here half an hour ago.”

  “Thanks.” I made my way to the back of the pub and up the private staircase. “Bethany?” I knocked on the door and waited. When there was no answer, I wiggled the doorknob. Locked.

  I pulled out Tiffany and aimed the wand at the doorknob, unlocking the door with a quick spell. I wanted to get in and out before anyone spotted me. If the journal was here, I could safely grab it and run back to the sheriff’s office with it.

  The room was surprisingly messy considering Bethany’s job required her to be organized for Adam—and the fact that she hadn’t been here very long. Gareth would not approve.

  There was no time to waste. I gathered my magic and focused my will. I waved the wand in a zigzag pattern and said, “Like moonbeams shine on a night nocturnal/Illuminate the space where she’s hidden the journal.”

  The air crackled with energy and a spot on the desk began to shimmer. My spirits soared when the outline of a nondescript book appeared.

  I pumped my fist in the air. “Yes!” I darted toward the desk and opened the cover. Andrea’s loopy handwriting stared back at me—Property of Andrea Morton. Piss off. Before I could delve any further, the door opened. I spun around and forced a calm smile. “Oh, hi. I was expecting Bethany.”

  Adam’s imposing figure was framed in the doorway. “I could say the same.” His gaze shifted to the desk, where I had one hand resting casually on the open journal. “What are you doing in here?”

  “Bethany asked me to bring her this book,” I said. I closed the journal and clutched it against my chest, still holding my wand.

  He pointed. “That book? I’m pretty sure that’s where she’s written production notes for me. In fact, I was looking for it.” Something about his tone told me he knew exactly what this book was and that he didn’t want me to have it.

  “These aren’t production notes,” I said. I was acutely aware that the only way out was the doorway that Adam now blocked.

  “No? I’m sure they are.” He extended a hand. “Let me see.”

  I held the book tighter. “She hid it for you, didn’t she?”

  “I don’t know why Bethany has it. I didn’t even know it was here,” he said.

  “Then I suspect she hid it to protect you.”

  Adam folded his bulky arms. “And why would I need protection?”

  I jumped right to the heart of the matter. “Did you know she thought she was pregnant?”

  Adam’s thick eyebrows shot up. “Andrea?”

  “Yes, Andrea. The elf you were having an affair with—an affair which you denied.”

  “Because it isn’t true,” he said smoothly.

  “I suspect this journal tells a dif
ferent story.”

  He laughed and the sound rang cold and hollow. “The word of a dead woman who bullied everyone she came into contact with? That’s not proof.”

  “Why don’t I let Sheriff Astrid decide?”

  He expelled an annoyed breath. “Fine. We were involved. Happy now? Can I have the journal so we can protect her reputation? There’s no need to disparage a dead elf.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “You think I’m going to buy that? Andrea’s reputation doesn’t need protection.” My fingers tightened around my wand. “You know? I thought for sure this was about a personal matter, but it’s not, is it?”

  “No? Then what’s it about?”

  “The only thing you admittedly care about—money.”

  He flinched and that was enough. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Money wasn’t an issue between us. She was happy with her salary.”

  Then it hit me. Their argument over the last minute addition of Jim and Paige. It wasn’t because Andrea had lied about their occupations. It was because she’d let her brother in on the closely-held secret and it had made Adam furious.

  “What happened?” I asked. “You were so angry that she told Paige and Jim that the show is fake that you threatened to fire her?”

  Adam maintained a neutral expression. “That’s absurd. Home Invaders is an aspirational show, yes, but certainly not fake.”

  “Minotaur shit,” I said. “Everything is phony. None of the couples have huge budgets. They don’t even want to buy the houses they see. Paige and Jim weren’t unusual last-minute stand-ins. They were the standard.”

  “Okay fine, but it wasn’t that big of a secret,” he said. “Every couple we have on the show is aware. How could they not be?” Although Adam controlled his tone, I sensed the frustration simmering beneath the reserved exterior. “The ratings reflect that viewers want to see miniature unicorn figurine collectors with a million coins buying their forever home, so that’s what I give them.”

  I observed him coolly. “Regardless of how true it is.” I cocked my head. “But ratings have been slipping lately, haven’t they? That’s why you’re so obsessed with them. You’re afraid you’ll lose your lucrative deal…” I stopped talking as my head began spinning with possibilities. “The rival show.”

  Adam narrowed his eyes. “What rival show?”

  “Natalya interviewed for a job with a rival show.” I hugged the journal. “Andrea wasn’t angry because Natalya was going to leave. She was angry because she was afraid that you’d find out.” My eyes widened. “The rival show was hers.” Natalya must’ve been interviewed by someone else, but the cross-pollination had been enough to make Andrea nervous.

  “Andrea wanted to produce a real show with real homeowners. That would never make it in the ratings!” He yanked off his newsboy hat. “Nobody wants to watch paranormals remodel their modest homes on a realistic budget working jobs they hate. That’s not an escape from reality.”

  “It’s called a reality show,” I reminded him.

  “Who wants reality?” Adam’s voice was so loud that I was certain the bartender below heard him. “Nobody. Life is hard enough.”

  “How did you find out?” I asked.

  “She told me that night,” he said. “She knew it was only a matter of time before Natalya found out that Andrea was the producer of the new show and she wanted to pre-empt her telling me.” He grunted. “Andrea wanted something relatable for the masses. When I told her the idea was ridiculous, she got angry.”

  “Why not let her strike out on her own then?” I asked. “It would be her failure, not yours.”

  “She was planning to leave me in the lurch after everything I’ve done for her!” His face contorted with rage. “I’m in charge, not her. I say when it’s time for her to go.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “We argued in the dining room. She threatened to tell everyone that Home Invaders is fake. When she turned to walk away, I grabbed the candlestick from the mantel and hit her on the back of the head.” His expression hardened. “I knew I’d killed her.”

  “And you stuck her in a chair and walked away like nothing had happened?” Gods above. Adam was a total monster.

  “I figured it would give me enough time to clean up the evidence,” he said. “If someone passed by, they’d see her sitting and think she was alive and hard at work.” He rubbed his forehead. “I didn’t anticipate Paige though.”

  “And you’d go back to business as usual?”

  “I’m about to sign another three-year deal. I couldn’t risk Andrea ruining that.” His inscrutable mask dropped into place. “And I can’t risk you ruining it now.”

  I aimed my wand. “Stay away from me.”

  The minotaur loomed closer, cutting a menacing figure. “Or what? You won’t hurt me. You have a new baby and a husband. There’s too much at stake. Just let me go and I promise I won’t harm you.”

  His cavalier attitude incensed me. “This isn’t my first showdown,” I said. “And I’m not about to let a killer walk free. Andrea deserves justice.”

  “Andrea was a heartless wench who deserves exactly what she got,” he seethed. Before I could act, he lowered his head and ran toward me, horns first. I twisted aside and narrowly missed being impaled. His arm shot out and he grabbed my neck, squeezing.

  I jammed my elbow into his solar plexus and he let me go. He lunged sideways and I tried to focus my will, but he tackled me before I could finish. I fell backward but the desk stopped me from hitting the floor. The momentum of the fall propelled him forward and he glided over me. His horns went straight through the wall and stuck there. I grabbed my wand from where it had fallen on the floor and launched my attack.

  “What’s going on?” Bethany Bell stood in the open doorway, looking gobsmacked.

  “Bethany, please go downstairs,” I said.

  The pixie’s wings fluttered furiously. “Why is Adam attached to the wall?”

  “He killed Andrea,” I said. “And now he’s trying to kill me.”

  Bethany’s wings froze and she stood firmly on the floor. “No, Adam would never.”

  The minotaur wrenched his horns free and whirled around to attack me again.

  “Bethany, go!” I yelled. I pointed my wand at the minotaur and performed the freeze spell.

  But the pixie didn’t go. Instead she placed herself between us at precisely the wrong moment and froze in midair.

  “Why is she so devoted to you?” I practically shrieked. She was either the best employee in the history of employment or she was in love with Adam. Neither was helpful to me right now.

  Adam flung the pixie aside like she was nothing more than a toy.

  “Be careful. You might hurt her!” Adam didn’t care though. The only thing the minotaur cared about was himself—and eliminating me.

  I didn’t have time to think. I took aim and said the first spell that came to mind. ““Raindrops on roses, foam on the sea/Take him to a chosen memory.”

  Adam’s expression crumpled and his body slumped to the floor. Although his eyes were open, he suddenly seemed far away.

  “Adam?” I snapped my fingers in front of his face, but there was no response. Wherever he was, he was lost in a memory. I didn’t waste my chance. I conjured a set of magical handcuffs and secured his hands behind his back for when he snapped back to the present.

  “How was your escape from reality?” I asked, when his eyes eventually lost their glazed look.

  He struggled to wriggle free of the handcuffs but to no avail. “Let me go and I won’t hurt you.”

  I shook my head. “I know you have a hard time taking orders rather than giving them, but you seem to be confused about who’s in charge now.”

  He still seemed unsettled by whatever memory he’d experienced. “As often as we locked horns, I don’t think she ever thought I’d be capable of hurting her.”

  Ah, so he’d disappeared into the memory of the murder. That made sense, given that i
t had to be top of mind for him.

  “She wasn’t actually pregnant, by the way,” I said. “In case you were wondering.”

  “I didn’t think so.” His voice monotone.

  “But you weren’t sure.”

  He met my gaze, his brown eyes flat. “It was a risk I was willing to take. She would’ve made a terrible mother anyway.”

  My stomach churned at his callous comment. “And everyone thought Andrea was the cold, heartless one.” I clucked my tongue. “Boy, were they wrong.”

  The spell on Bethany wore off and she fluttered to her feet. “I’ll get the sheriff.” She gave Adam a look of contempt. “Not that I need to say it, but it will feel good.” She drew a deep breath. “Adam Newman, I hereby tender my resignation.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Once Sheriff Astrid came to collect her prize, I stayed behind to comfort Bethany. I’d opted not to tell Astrid about the fact that the journal had been cloaked when I handed it to her, only that I’d managed to find it.

  The pixie sat on the edge of the bed and hugged herself. “What will happen to me now?”

  “That depends,” I said. “Why did you cloak the journal?”

  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I didn’t hide it because I knew he killed her—I swear. I hid it because I thought he was innocent and that the journal would wrongfully incriminate him.”

  “Why protect him at all?” I asked. “Why not let it play out during the investigation and trust the sheriff?”

  “I was trying to help,” Bethany said. “It’s what I do.” Her face fell. “Not very well, apparently.”

  “Were you that committed to your job?”

  Bethany plucked an invisible thread on her shirt. “We all have our strengths. I guess I went overboard this time. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been.”

  “Love is often blind,” I said. “If it was more of a microscope, I think there’d be far fewer marriages.”

  “I don’t know that he loved her…”