Chapter 9 #2
Even if that was possible, which I wasn’t convinced it was, it didn’t make much of a difference right now. I didn’t know how to use magic. I was probably a magical dud. Maybe my dad was, too. That might be why he was so determined to make his life so different from the way Elwood lived.
Yeah. That made sense. If I had magic, I would know.
Reciting all the supposed magical properties of cake ingredients really wasn’t making a spell.
It was just a quirky little thing I did.
With that settled, I stood up and brushed off my pants.
Then I went back to making my cake. As I worked, I let my thoughts turn to Winston (and away from ridiculous thoughts of me having magic).
It was obvious not everyone at last night’s meeting had liked him. But how much would you need to dislike someone to decide murder was the only solution? And why use a crystal point? Had someone taken it from Elwood’s store to use it as a weapon? Or had Winston owned it?
I tried to think back to where we’d found his body. I couldn’t remember much. I’d been so focused on the body that everything else was a blur.
Damn it.
How could I get a better look? The police had strung up caution tape, making it clear they didn’t want anyone messing with their crime scene.
But I could still look through the window.
They couldn’t stop me from doing that, could they?
At least then I’d find out if Winston had a bunch of crystals strewn around his place.
Yeah. That didn’t make sense, did it? The place was being renovated. Who would keep a bunch of crystals at a construction site? Or was I thinking too much like my father now? Because I could absolutely see Elwood stringing up talismans or amulets everywhere if his shop was under renovation.
As I mixed the ingredients, prepped the cake pan, and preheated the oven, I jotted down words on the paper I’d brought upstairs.
I worked slowly, taking my time with each step, thinking about all the questions I had about Winston’s death.
I started with the names of the people at the meeting.
Leon was the obvious suspect. Except he’d seemed genuinely surprised to find Winston dead.
If he was the killer, would he have been that convincing?
I’d never met a murderer before, though, so what did I know? Maybe that was how one would act.
While the cake was baking, I stared at the list of names some more. Of course, there could be other people who might want Winston dead, too, but how would I figure out who they were?
By the time the cake was ready to take out of the oven, I was no further ahead.
Hoping for a little more time to think and bake, I dug around in Elwood’s fridge again for something to use as a topping for the cake.
Elwood didn’t have any cream cheese, which was my favorite kind of icing on a spice cake, so I opted for dusting the cake with a mix of icing sugar and spices instead.
Once again, I found myself reciting the supposed magical properties of the spices as I worked. It was like I couldn’t help myself.
By the time the cake was coated in the icing sugar mixture and cooled enough to eat, I still didn’t have any answers. Now what?
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten yet today. I didn’t want to eat cake. I just liked making them. So maybe I should go to the pub for a bite to eat and try eavesdropping on some conversations while I’m there?
The doorbell chimed through the apartment.
My heart thudded as the sound of the bells faded. My intuition said it wasn’t Elwood waiting downstairs, but I figured I needed to answer the door anyway. I reluctantly walked down the stairs.
At the door, I peered through the peephole. I’d half-expected to see the police getting ready to ram open the door so they could search the apartment for evidence. Instead, Tulip was standing there with a few other people I didn’t recognize.
I opened the door slowly, apprehensive about what would bring these people to me. Had they heard something about Elwood that I hadn’t?
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Hello, Declan.” Tulip smiled and patted me on the arm. Then she stepped around me and came inside, like there was never a question of whether I’d agree to her being there.
Now that I suspected Tulip was an actual mermaid, her features seemed even less human than they normally did.
How had I not realized that before? The mind was a funny thing.
If you wanted it to fool you, it would. Tulip didn’t go up the stairs to the apartment as I’d expected but turned left and went into the shop.
A voluptuous brunette wearing a fifties-style dress with a poofy skirt came in next. She was followed by a small guy who looked like he’d never known a moment when he didn’t want to smile or have fun.
“Oh!” The man made a production of inhaling deeply. He had the most amazing turquoise hair. “It smells amazing in here. Spicy.” He rubbed his arms. “And all the magic in the air is tickling my skin. I like it.”
I glanced out the door to see if there were more people waiting to come in.
“Don’t worry. Gideon and Az will be here soon, too,” the guy said. “I’m Sandy, by the way. You know Tulip, obvs. And Hazel is the one who looks like she wants to be a pinup model. And I think Eugene should already be—” Then he smiled and waved at something behind me. “Hey, Eugene!”
I peered over my shoulder but didn’t see anything but a shadow beyond the door in the shop–
Wait. Was the shadow moving on its own?
“What’s going on?” I asked. My brain had finally caught up with what was happening.
“It’s a misfits’ meeting,” Sandy said. His tone suggested that this should be self-evident. “We were supposed to meet last night, but now we’re here tonight.”
“Right. Okay.” Maybe they’d have some ideas about how I could help Elwood.
And if people were coming here, I could at least feed them cake. I ran upstairs and grabbed the cake and some plates. I tucked my notes in my pocket, too.
By the time I got back downstairs, they were settled in the meeting space at the back of the store. Unlike last night’s festival meeting, the atmosphere was more relaxed, despite Elwood’s notable absence. Sandy bounced in his seat when he saw the cake.
As I organized the plates and forks, I decided I should make small talk, get to know Elwood’s friends and all that.
“I love the color of your hair,” I said to Sandy. “Does someone in town do that? Or do you color it yourself?”
“Aw… you’re sweet! Thank you.” Sandy fluffed his hair as he spoke.
As he moved, his messy turquoise locks shifted, and I had to do a double-take.
His ears were as pointy as Spock’s. “This is all natural, baby! When I was a kid, I always wished I had sapphire blue hair like my dad, but you learn to live with what you’ve got, am I right? Now I can’t imagine any other color.”
“Oh. Uh… right.” I blinked at him. It took me a minute to remember what I was doing. My hand trembled as I guided the knife through the cake.
“I’m so excited. I haven’t had magic-infused cake for ages,” Sandy enthused.
“Magic-infused? There isn’t any marijuana or anything like that in it.” I shook my head.
Sandy laughed and slapped his leg like I’d told a joke. “Of course not.”
Oh boy.
Meanwhile, Hazel was fussing with her skirt.
A protest almost burst out of me when she tugged the outer layer of her skirt free, before I realized she’d just pulled off an outer shell, and she was still wearing a skirt under it and…
um… I gulped. There were legs. Not human legs.
But… um… long, thin, black spider legs? No, that couldn’t be.
I counted them. One… two… all the way up to eight. So, yes. I’d been right.
“Ah, that’s better,” she said when the layer was gone. Those disturbingly long spider legs stretched and wiggled.
I wanted to scream and run away. Maybe even back to the apartment I’d shared with Josh, because as far as I knew, we didn’t have human-sized spiders there.
Hazel tucked her extra skirt layer-thing away in a bag.
Then she pulled out knitting needles, but no yarn.
Even though I hadn’t looked away, I couldn’t figure out where her, uh, thread—was that the right word?
—was coming from. I was a little queasy to realize she was making it herself.
Oh God. There was a spider lady in my grandfather’s shop, and she was knitting a small blanket with freakishly thick spider webbing.
“So, cake?” Sandy asked, pulling my attention away from the giant spider-person.
“Oh! I love cake!” Tulip exclaimed.
Did they not see the enormous spider knitting beside them? How were they so comfortable with this?
“Uh, right,” I agreed, setting the cake on the table. With a shaky hand, I dished up the cake and served pieces to Sandy and Tulip.
“Me too, dear,” Hazel said. She waved one of her knitting needles toward the corner. “And don’t forget Eugene.”
I slid a piece of cake toward Hazel, trying not to get too close. Because spider! Then I carried a piece in the direction she’d waved.
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about a plate for Eugene,” Sandy said. “We usually drop a bit on the floor for him. Doesn’t need to eat much, does he?”
Yeah. That wasn’t going to happen, particularly since the floor around where Tulip was sitting was already wet and water was rolling in that direction.
The idea of watery spice cake sounded awful.
I set the plate on the floor. The shadow in the corner shivered, and I got the sense it—Eugene—was happy.
“Oh, good,” Hazel said, glancing at Eugene’s plate. “He has enough to share with George, too. The poor dear must be beside himself with worry. I expect he’ll have some choice words for Elwood when he returns.”
Was she talking about my grandfather’s pet mouse? I returned to the table and collapsed into one of the seats. Was I too human to cope with all of this?
Then I heard the back door open again. Now what? I scrambled to my feet as Gideon and Az strolled in. Gideon was holding a large paper bag.
He glanced around at the others. “Good. You’re all here.”
“Isn’t anyone else coming tonight?” Tulip asked with a frown.
“Too short notice for Mellgren. I’m not sure about the others, but I think this might be it for tonight.” Gideon shook his head. Then he thrust the paper bag into my arms. It was heavy, warm, and smelled of greasy pub food. “Here.”
“What is it?”
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but I figured you probably hadn’t eaten yet. So there’s salad, burgers, onion rings, wings, shepherd’s pie, nachos…” He paused to sniff the air. “And I think Alvin threw in some fish and chips, too.”
I glanced down at the bag. No wonder it was so heavy. He’d brought half his menu. “I’ll never eat all this.”
“But you will eat something, right?” The look he gave me was so damn earnest that I couldn’t say no.
“Why don’t we spread it out, and everyone can take some?” I suggested.
“But you’ll dish up your plate first,” Gideon insisted. He pushed his hand through his dark brown hair like the idea of me not eating bothered him.
I rolled my eyes. “I can take care of myself.”
“Just let him do his thing, dear,” Hazel said without pausing her loops and knots. “It’s the alpha in him. He can’t help himself.”
Gideon scowled at the spider lady and looked ready to refute her words.
“We all know it’s true.” Sandy shrugged. “And then after we eat that, we’ll all have more cake. The magic in it is divine.”
“It’s exactly what we need to find my Winston’s killer.” Tulip’s eyes took on a glassy sheen, looking even more watery than normal.
“Yes, dear.” Hazel patted Tulip’s knee with one of her creepy spider legs. “And then Elwood will be released, and we can all go back to our regular misfits’ meetings as usual.”