Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
A possible date and an interrogation (and a little more coffee)
Declan
That night, there was no contractor banging around next door, the police hadn’t arrived to search Elwood’s apartment, and Elwood hadn’t slipped out in the middle of the night to God knew where to do God knew what.
So, considering everything that happened in the last few days, I enjoyed a decent sleep, and morning arrived without incident.
But that didn’t mean I was ready to dive into the day without coffee. I needed to buy a French press or something because Elwood’s anti-coffee lifestyle wasn’t working for me.
“Are you sure you don’t need help getting ready for the festival?” I asked Elwood as we washed up the breakfast dishes. There weren’t many, but Elwood always dealt with them right away.
It wasn’t like when I’d lived with Josh.
We’d each held out, waiting to see which of us would give in and clean them first. It was amazing the number of dishes you could fit on a counter if you needed to.
In retrospect, that was yet another sign of our deteriorating relationship.
We definitely hadn’t brought out the best in one another.
“A couple of days ago, you weren’t even going to be here,” Elwood pointed out as he handed me a wet bowl. “I was ready to do the festival on my own then. That hasn’t changed.”
“Yes, but I’m here now.” I punctuated my words with a yawn. I wondered what kind of coffee Lily would be trying to flog today—honey mustard? Sweet chili? You know, I might even try a sweet chili coffee.
I dried the bowl and placed it in the cupboard.
“It’s more important to find out what happened to Winston.” Elwood gave me another bowl to dry. “Besides, it’ll be good for you to meet some of the locals.”
“By going around and asking if they’re murderers? That doesn’t seem like the best way to make friends and influence people.” It’d been a while since I’d read that book, but I was pretty sure Dale Carnegie hadn’t covered murder interrogations.
“Perhaps not, but if you’re planning to stay for a while…” Elwood’s words drifted off as he watched me.
“I guess we haven’t had a chance to talk since I showed up on your doorstep.” I wiped the dishtowel over the bowl again, even though it was already dry. “Is it, um, okay if I stick around for a bit?”
Elwood nodded. “It might even be for the best. If your magic has manifested, you’ll need some training. It’ll also help being around so much other magic. Ravenstone is filled with it.”
I bit my bottom lip. Elwood was right. I’d come here to get away from Josh, but with the whole magic thing, I had even more reason to stay.
I hadn’t wanted to bring it up until Elwood did, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Magic. It was still so fantastical, like something I’d dreamed up.
But now that he’d said something, I felt like he was inviting me to talk about it.
“Do you truly believe I have magic? I mean, I know what everyone said last night about my cake, but do I really have enough that I need magic lessons?”
“If that spice cake was anything to go by, I’d say you’ve already been practicing magic. We just need to give it a little structure. And that happens through more practice and training.”
Wow, look at me, having my very own Percy Jackson moment at the ripe old age of twenty-seven. I collapsed into a nearby chair. “Really? But how?”
“You have a lot of potential.” Elwood sat across from me. “Do you not feel anything different since you’ve arrived here?”
“Huh. I feel…” I rubbed my chest. I didn’t notice the champagne bubbles at the moment, but could that be related to the magic, too? “I don’t know exactly what I feel. I was awake half the night thinking about it. I don’t even know what magic does. If I’m already using it, wouldn’t I know?”
“It’s innate, but your control, understanding, and mastery of it will grow stronger with instruction.”
My cheeks heated. “It’s all a little overwhelming. In a good way, I think.”
“I should hope it’s good. It’s a part of who you are. You need to accept it like you do all the other parts of yourself. If you can get used to having hazel eyes and tripping over your feet all the time–”
“Hey!”
“You can get used to magic,” Elwood continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “It’ll be a bit of an adjustment, but I know you can do it. I just wish you hadn’t already lost so much time. Your father has a lot to answer for.”
“What do you mean?”
“He hid your magic from me. Probably thought it’d go away if he didn’t acknowledge it. But your magic would have manifested when you were about eighteen.”
“Wait? Dad knows?” I raised my eyebrows. “Is he magical, too?”
“He is,” Elwood said. “His is more related to luck. It’s one of the reasons he’s so good at his job.
It also means that he can dismiss his magic as being something else.
How many times have you heard him say something like ‘I was just prepared,’ ‘the research came through,’ or ‘I put the work in and made my own luck.’”
Yeah, Dad had said all those things. All the freaking time.
“Huh. Who knew?”
Before I could ask anything more, the doorbell chimed.
“That’ll be Gideon,” I said. I tucked the damp dish towel over a hook. “We’re going to talk to Jim this morning.”
Elwood nodded. “Be careful.”
“I will,” I agreed as I adjusted my glasses. “One last thing. Should I, um, be worried about anything? Like, could my magic hurt someone?”
“For practitioners like us, magic is largely about intent. If you don’t wish to hurt someone, you won’t.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Okay. That’s good.”
“But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still be careful,” he said.
I nodded, feeling lighter about, well, everything than I had when I woke.
And I was happy Elwood didn’t try to talk me out of investigating Winston’s murder.
Although I wasn’t even sure why I felt compelled to continue the investigation at this point.
Grady had moved on from his interest in Elwood.
But I kept thinking about how quickly he’d hauled Elwood in for questioning to begin with.
What if the sheriff changed his mind again? What if someone tried to frame Elwood now that they knew he’d been questioned once already? Or what if the killer came for Elwood next? We didn’t know why Winston had been killed, so what if someone was murdering local business owners?
Okay. That last one sounded pretty far-fetched, but something wasn’t right, and I didn’t trust Grady to figure it out. I was sure he was a pleasant man and all, but he was too easily misdirected. Well, that, and my intuition was screaming at me that I needed to do this.
I’d never felt anything like it. Was that my newly discovered magical-ness? Or was it because I’d been there when Winston’s body was discovered? Either way, I couldn’t step away. Maybe Gideon felt the same way, and that’s why he was going with me today.
I opened the door at the bottom of the steps and found Gideon waiting for me. He was holding a to-go cup.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Morning.” He thrust the cup at me. “Here. This is for you.”
I sniffed it. “Coffee?”
He nodded. “And it isn’t from Lily’s. I thought you’d want something decent, and I know Elwood doesn’t keep coffee at his place.”
“Thanks.” I grinned. I took a sip and moaned. “This is perfect.”
“Glad you like it.” Gideon rubbed the back of his neck. Were his cheeks a little pinker than they had been? Weird.
Without another word, he started walking down the street.
I followed. We were heading toward the town plaza.
The rest of downtown was empty. It was still early, after all.
But there was a cluster of cars and trucks by the park.
White tents were popping up on the massive lawn in front of the town hall like giant mushrooms, and the faint whine of drills broke the quiet.
The sky didn’t have a single cloud, and the sun was already heating the sidewalk. It was going to be another hot day. The festival committee would be happy about that.
“So, where are we going?” I asked. “Does Jim have a workshop somewhere over here?”
Gideon shook his head. “Sable heard Jim’s been hired to help set up the festival.”
“Who’s Sable?” Was that his girlfriend? Shit. I should have guessed a guy like Gideon would be in a relationship. And why did the idea of Gideon in a relationship make me a teensy bit irritated?
“Sable works with me at The Den,” Gideon said when we reached the intersection and had to wait for a car to coast by before we crossed.
I took another sip of the excellent coffee before I asked something I shouldn’t, like: Are you single?
“Most of the tools Jim needs for larger jobs are still in Winston’s building. And he can’t get them from the crime scene because the police are still going over the place looking for evidence. There isn’t much he can do without all his equipment.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” I nodded. “So, what’s the plan? Are you playing bad cop? Because I feel like I’d make a better good cop.”
“We aren’t cops.”
“No, no,” I said as we crossed the other street to get to the park in front of the town hall building. “I realize that. But it’s an interrogation technique, right?”
“You watch too much TV. We’re just going to have a conversation.”
“Right…” I nodded. “But I’ll be the friendly one who commiserates. You’ll be the hard ass.”
Gideon lifted one of his eyebrows. It was quite impressive, really. I’d never been able to do that. Instead of agreeing, Gideon said. “Let’s just talk to the man and go from there.”
“Fine.”
Gideon should loosen up a little. Role-playing could be fun. Everyone knew that.
And because my mind was a fun little amusement park of its own, now I was thinking about what Gideon would be like in bed.
Because thoughts of role-playing led me to think about other times I’d role-played, which then jumped over to sexy role-playing…
and yeah. Imagining what Gideon would be like in bed… naked… made me trip over my feet.