Dead and Gone (Thornwood Academy)

Chapter 14

14

Along with recent thefts, somebody at the museum hid gems, some magical, and now the curator appears overly panicked about the mole's disappearance. There's a Redridge connection. No doubt.

This case isn't clear cut, and if there's one thing I've learned, I should've expected trouble—as do others when involved in Violet Blackwood's investigations.

Kai contacts Dale and invites him to join us "or else", and I message Grayson to meet us all at Kai's place. Once we reach Kai's ostentatious home on the outskirts of town, we walk around to the detached part of the house that the Sawyer's spoiled only child occupies.

Dale hides in the shadows outside, but I clearly see the individual in the dark and glare at him as Kai ushers us into his home. Kai's lounge smells unpleasantly like unwashed male teens and pizza, the room filled with expensive furniture including a black leather recliner facing a monstrous TV and game controllers on the rug beside it.

I remain standing as Dale walks in, perspiring and glancing between the sofa and window as if he might vault out rather than sit down.

"The curator was the person at the visitor center," I inform them.

Dale sits. "What?"

"You're fools. Didn't you consider that the person you blackmailed may attempt to apprehend you?" I continue.

Kai exchanges a furtive look with Dale. "The guy can't prove anything! I wasn't with you, and Dale ran."

Leif snorts. "Yes, you were well-hidden, but Mr. Wright figured out who you are."

Dale blows air into his cheeks. "He can't know for sure. Only if word gets out that we're the ones who have Marvin."

Why do they insist on keeping the manikin's ridiculous name?

"I promise word will get out if you don't co-operate."

Kai shifts and crosses his arms. "Dale, give Violet the mole. She takes it back to the museum. Everything solved."

Grayson points at his face. "The mole's missing eyes?"

Kai shrugs. "The curator guy can find new ones."

I balk. "You are an idiotic boy."

"Don't talk to me like that," he snaps back.

"Living moles are blind creatures, but this one most certainly needs its eyes. I cannot return the mole to the curator without them." I cross my arms. "Dale?"

"I don't understand why you did something so dumb in the first place," says Rowan. "Stealing from the museum, then blackmail too, and you intended to take the ransom money. That's disgusting."

" Fake money, by the way." I toss the envelope on the table.

Dale snatches hold and tips out the torn paper. "The curator didn't keep the bargain!"

"The curator didn't leave this for you, we did. And blackmail is not a sales transaction. Don't you want to avoid trouble with the police? Your father would not be happy if you tarnished the Sawyer name again, Kai."

He looks the other way, his jaw hard. These local male teenagers aren't known for thinking things through, but this is ridiculous.

"Dale. Where are the eyes?" I demand. "You maintain that you lost the mole and the eyes' fell out'?" He stares at the ceiling. "Good grief. Do you want me to use mind magic on you?"

"That's illegal," he retorts.

"So's theft," says Grayson.

Dale slumps back. "Fine. Some guy offered cash for the mole, no questions asked."

"What guy?" asks Kai sharply.

"Explain," I say stiffly.

"He sent Marvin a message on Insta. Wanted to buy the mole. Offered ￡400."

"What the hell?" asks Kai. "When?"

Grayson scoffs. "Why would somebody offer such a large amount for that thing?"

"He's a collector," retorts Dale.

"How did you know?" Rowan asks.

"S'what he said."

"Oh, for goodness sake." I shake my head. "I doubt there's a large underground market for taxidermy where someone would seek you out and offer large sums of money. This situation becomes increasingly worrying."

"I can't believe you went behind our backs with this, Dale. I bet we wouldn't know about the blackmail either unless I'd confronted you," snaps Kai.

"Show me Instagram," I demand, and hold out a hand. "Who is this collector?"

Dale scowls and pushes his phone across the table, and I frown in confusion, unable to comprehend what's on the screen. I hand the phone to Rowan, who studies what I struggle to decipher.

"Profile name LWRR601. But yeah, photos of an old guy with plenty of other stuffed animals in his feed." Rowan clicks across to the messages between LWRR601 and MarvintheMarvellous. "Nothing about a meetup here. How did you know where to go, Dale?"

Kai continues to glare at Dale. "And why the hell didn't you tell us? Should never've let you control Marvin's account."

He side glances Kai. "I arranged a time and place and deleted the messages."

"But you obviously didn't sell the mole," I interrupt before Kai throws the punch I can see in his mind.

"No. I told the guy I couldn't risk selling the mole after the curator visited school and lost his shit, so the buyer told me to just sell him the eyes. I did and replaced them with these." Dale pulls red beads from his pocket.

Grayson chokes a laugh. "Wow."

"Then the eyes fell out into my bag on the way to the visitor center."

I raise mine to the spotlights on the ceiling. "Have you not learned anything about goings-on in this town? The supernatural forces at work? Your buyer may not have been who he said."

"Nah. His Insta profile was all taxidermy and shit, wasn't it?" says Dale.

"Why would a keen taxidermy collector only want the eyes of a rare specimen?" I ask in disbelief. "He would want the whole manikin! That profile is fake."

"You morons," mutters Leif.

"Chances are the buyer was a witch searching for a magical item rather than a fan of taxidermy," says Rowan. "The mole originally belonged to a witch family."

"Did you meet this buyer in person, Dale?" asks Leif.

"No. I dropped the eyes off in the town graveyard. The buyer left the cash under a stone behind one of the mausoleums."

"Graveyard." I look at the others. "Was this last night?" Dale nods. Nobody followed us, and we were close to discovering the truth. I grind my teeth. If only I'd insisted on waiting around—we might've caught Dale or his mysterious buyer. Possibly both. "Any contact since?"

"No."

"Where's the money you got for the eyes, Dale?" asks Kai.

Dale sucks his lips together. "Someone else took the cash for safekeeping."

I straighten. " Someone else was involved with selling them?"

"Yeah." I raise an expectant eyebrow at him. "Corrie."

This time, Kai leaps from his seat. "What the actual fuck?"

"Was her idea," Dale mumbles. "Corrie bought some glass beads and we swapped them. The glue she used must be crap since the eyes fell out."

Oh. Oh . The buyer isn't upset about losing money, just as the curator isn't panicking about his missing manikin. And the threat to Corrie isn't about returning the mole—it's due to the fake eyes.

The pieces snap into place.

"You sold this collector beads because someone had replaced the eyes already," I say. "A witch bought the so-called eyes from Dale and Corrie."

"What do you mean?" asks Kai sharply.

"Give me the mole." Dale cautiously passes the manikin to me.

I unzip my jacket pocket and remove the red gems from the pouch, which I haven't let out of my sight since Rowan gave them to me. As I tip them into my palm, Rowan straightens. "Do you think…?" He trails off as he catches my small smile. "Oh, wow."

"What's happening?" asks Leif.

"I have the mole's original eyes." Biting down on my lip, I carefully push a gem into the eye socket.

A gem which fits perfectly.

A collective hush fills the room as I place the other eye into place, bracing myself for magic.

Nothing. Hmm. But the rubies fit .

"I don't understand. Where did you get the eyes?" Dale asks, and then his jaw slackens as he stands. "Wait. Did we sell them to you ?"

"No." Grayson's eyes grow wide in realization as he stares at the gems new resting place.

"You stole the eyes from the museum! You're as bad as us!" retorts Dale. "At least we intended to give the mole back."

"Apart from the eyes?" scoffs Grayson.

"Someone removed the mole's original eyes, swapped them for fake ones, and hid the gems. Once I've solved the mystery why , I intend to give the items to my father."

Dale stares at the mole as if it's a bomb. "Magic? Get the thing away from us! It could cast a curse on everybody now you've put its eyes back!"

"Only the rubies are magical, not the mole, but I don't understand the intended use. There's nothing to suggest they'll trigger a spell inside the mole." I poke at the eyes, now firmly in place. "I can only conclude that a Redridge hid the gems in the mole long before the museum donation. It would seem the glue that the first thief used was a more effective brand than Corrie's since your replacements fell out and theirs didn't."

"Someone took and hid the hidden gems?" Grayson gives a light laugh. "Man, that's weird."

"The person who purchased the eyes from Dale knows what magic they're used for. Something important, if the individual was prepared to pay such a large amount." I purse my lips. " Two people know what the gems really are—the buyer and the original thief. Two witches, likely."

"The curator?" asks Leif.

"The curator isn't a witch," says Rowan.

"Hence the continued mystery. I believe he's aware the mole's eyes are fake, as this explains his over the top worry about the theft. He's worried that someone will discover the modification."

"But why hide the rubies?" asks Rowan. "Why didn't the other witch take them?"

"Good question, and one I shall answer in good time. Corrie's safety is a more urgent matter. The person she sold the beads to is the one stalking her. They must think that Corrie still has the real ones," I say.

"The curator?" asks Grayson. "Crap. Do you think he's headed to her place?"

"No. He was with us at the visitor center, and I influenced his mind to ensure he returned to the museum."

"He could've snuck round to Corrie's afterwards," says Leif, and looks to Kai. "Are you guys normally together at night?"

"Dale is usually with Corrie," says Kai.

"But you never included Corrie in this blackmail transaction?" He looks the other way. "Where's Corrie?"

"Don't know. Called her earlier. No reply."

Again, unbelievable.

"Didn't you worry about the stalker?" asks Leif.

"She was imagining him," protests Kai. "Corrie likes drama. Probably wrote the note herself."

Oh. Good. Grief. "You are unpleasant, self-centered individuals," I inform them.

"Yeah, so are you," retorts Kai.

Baring my teeth, I step closer to stand over him where he sits. "That may be so, but I never disregard my friends' safety."

Kai is accustomed to my manner and has witnessed my less-than-pleasant hybrid side. He knows to keep his mouth shut, which he sensibly does.

"Call Corrie and check she's alright," says Rowan.

"Dale?" says Kai, still scowling at him. "You call. And get that bloody money off of her!"

I don't believe the curator threatened the teens, which points to somebody else. But who?

If the stalker is a witch and he believes that Corrie tricked him into buying beads, he'll be pissed when he discovers Corrie doesn't have the real eyes.

For her sake, I hope she hasn't spent the money.