Chapter 16
“Let’s start at the beginning,” Mason said.
He led Mrs. Abernathy to the chair across from his desk in the main area and then pulled out his own chair.
Adeline stood near the window with her arms crossed, and Princess Muffin Top sat on Casswell’s desk as she looked at him like a furry, judgmental gargoyle.
The station was empty except for the four of them, thankfully.
He should have seen this coming. He really should have.
He’d been so focused on ruling out Adeline that he’d never even considered the centenarians.
Why would he? They came from an assisted-living facility.
They showed up in Miss Moody’s Isetta, and then went home when the protests were over.
He’d assumed they were supervised, accounted for, and tucked into bed by eight o’clock with a cup of tea and a crossword puzzle.
He’d assumed wrong. “Tell me everything.”
Mrs. Abernathy folded her hands on top of the purse in her lap.
“The first time was the battery cables after Adeline’s first arrest. I waited until after midnight.
My room is on the second floor, so I used a levitation spell to lower myself off my balcony.
The facility has electric mopeds for the residents to use during the day.
Cute little things that hardly make any noise.
I borrowed one. Zipped out to the construction site, disconnected the cables, zipped back, and used another levitation spell to get back up to my balcony.
I was in bed before anyone was the wiser. ”
Mason stared incredulously at her. A ninety-seven-year-old witch who levitated off balconies, rode electric mopeds through the dark to a marsh, and then dismantled heavy equipment with the expertise of a trained mechanic.
He definitely hadn’t seen that one coming.
She must have read the look on his face because she continued with her story.
“My Henry owned a mechanic shop for sixty-three years,” she said.
“Not here in Moonlight Bay, but in another supernatural town.” She gave him a saucy grin.
“I can take apart an engine blindfolded, Chief. And those new-model Caterpillars aren’t as complicated as they look once you know where the battery housing is. ”
“And the glitter?” he asked.
Her eyes actually sparkled. “Just like I told Adeline. I knew pink would drive Ivan crazy. It was a double-layer iridescent pink with a disappearing spell. I put it on both his bulldozer and his truck. Just to annoy him.”
“And you did all of this...” Mason leaned forward. “While letting everyone believe Adeline was responsible.”
Mrs. Abernathy glanced at Adeline, and something soft crossed her face.
“I’ve already told this part to Adeline, but I’ll tell you now.
” She turned back to him. “I saw the sparks between you two. Reminded me of me and my Henry long, long ago. He was a bear shifter, and because of that, my family nearly disowned me for it.” She shrugged.
“I figured if Adeline kept getting arrested, it would keep putting the two of you together. And the marsh needed saving, young man. No matter what, those squish-squids and the entire marsh land need to be protected.” She shrugged, laughter dancing in her eyes.
“And if I could accomplish all those things—save the marsh and squish-squids, get under Ivan’s skin, and push you two together—then I figured I’d done a good thing. ”
He sat back in his chair. And there it was. The thing that had been clawing at him since Adeline had walked through the door and announced she needed to tell him something.
He wasn’t angry at Mrs. Abernathy. He understood her.
He didn’t agree with what she’d done or how she’d done it, but he understood the why of it...
the frustration, the conviction, the refusal to stand by while something you loved was destroyed.
He’d felt the same thing plenty of times during his years with PADA.
Sometimes the law moved too slowly. He got it.
He wasn’t angry. He was hurt.
How long had Adeline known before she came to his office tonight?
An hour? A day? She’d sat in her bakery eating a brownie and working it out while he was driving past her window wondering if she was okay.
She’d let him kiss her. She’d let him run his finger down her cheek and call her amazing.
And the whole time, had she known who the vandal really was?
Did she not trust him enough to tell him?
Or had she kept it secret for other reasons?
No matter what the answers were…it was still a betrayal of sorts.
That was the thing that sat like a stone in his chest. He’d spent so many years with PADA keeping everyone at arm’s length.
No attachments, no roots, no one close enough to hurt him or be hurt because of him.
And then he’d come to Moonlight Bay and met a stubborn, flour-dusted kitchen witch who smelled like vanilla and sugar and who threw mud at trolls.
And he’d thought—for the first time in his life—that maybe he could stop running and let someone in.
And all along she’d kept this from him. Why?
Was she afraid of what he’d do? Afraid of him?
But he’d never given her a reason to be afraid.
Or maybe he had. What really did he know about her?
He’d obviously read her wrong. She’d told him herself, on the first day he’d arrested her that she rarely took anything seriously.
Maybe this was just another thing she didn’t take seriously. The investigation. The law. Him.
He ran his hand over his face. No. He didn’t believe that.
He couldn’t believe that...because if he did, then every conversation they’d had—the stakeout, the kiss—was a lie.
And deep down, his wolf knew it wasn’t a lie.
His wolf had known from the first time he’d caught her scent that she was something different. Something real.
But real didn’t mean she hadn’t hurt him.
“I guess some of this is on me,” he said quietly, “for not asking about the hours at the assisted-living facility.”
Mrs. Abernathy waved a hand. “Oh, don’t blame yourself, dear. I’ve been sneaking out of that place for years. The night staff thinks I sleep like the dead.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I don’t.”
He gave her a small smile before glancing at Adeline and then pushing back his chair and standing.
His legs and heart felt heavy. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to arrest you, Mrs. Abernathy.
” He heard his own voice like it was coming from somewhere far away.
“Please understand. I don’t want to.” He looked at Adeline and held her gaze.
He let her see exactly what he was feeling because he was too tired and too hurt to hide it.
“But sometimes we have to do what we don’t want to do. No matter how much it hurts.”
“You can’t arrest her!” Adeline exclaimed. “She only did what she did to help the squish-squids and the marsh! How can you do this to her? She’s ninety-seven years old, Mason!”
“Now, Adeline,” Mrs. Abernathy said calmly, patting the air with both hands. “It’s okay. He has a job to do.”
“Yes, I do.” Mason heard the edge in his own voice, and he hated that.
He didn’t want to hear her accusations. He didn’t want to hear her tell him all the ways he was wrong.
It was bad enough that his chest felt like someone had reached in and squeezed his heart.
“Go back to your bakery, Adeline. I’ll handle the law side of things from here on out. ”
The words came out harder than he’d intended, but he couldn’t take them back now. She stood there, fists clenched, face pale. And damn her for staring him down. Why couldn’t she just go away and let him do his job?
“Come on, Adeline,” Princess Muffin Top said quietly, jumping down from the chair.
“You heard the werewolf. He doesn’t want us here.
” The Main Coon stopped in front of Mrs. Abernathy.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. A. I’ll break you out soon.
” She glanced toward the holding cell. “And there’s a file under the cot if you don’t want to wait for me. ”
Then Princess Muffin Top turned and looked at him. She didn’t say anything. She just stared at him with those large, unblinking cat eyes. Usually she was full of snark and sarcasm and relentless commentary. But now she was silent as she stared at him.
It was the most unnerving thing the cat had done to him so far. He thought the singing was bad…no, the silence was worse.
“You don’t have to do this, Mason.” His heart lurched at the plea in Adeline’s voice. “We can think of something. There has to be another way. Please!”
He pulled out the ink pad and the fingerprint card and set them on the desk.
He looked away because he couldn’t bring himself to look at Adeline any longer.
If he did, he’d break. He’d give in. He’d do whatever she asked because that’s what she did to him...
she made him want to bend every rule he’d ever followed.
And he couldn’t bend this one. Not this time.
He kept his head down and focused on the ink pad and paper, lining them up just so on the desk.
A few seconds later, he heard the front door slam shut.
The sound echoed through the station and hit him like a fist to his gut.
He sighed and sat down across from Mrs. Abernathy and slid the ink pad toward her.
“If you could press your right thumb here, please.”
Mrs. Abernathy obliged without complaint. She pressed her thumb onto the pad, then onto the card, then looked up at him with those clear, sharp eyes. “She didn’t know for long, you know. She only figured it out tonight. After she confronted me, she said we had to come straight to you.”
Mason said nothing. He labeled the card and set it aside.
“She came straight to you,” Mrs. Abernathy repeated. “When she could have kept it to herself. When she could have protected me and let you keep chasing your tail. She chose you, Chief Wolfe. She chose honesty over loyalty to me.” The old witch tilted her head. “That should tell you something.”
Mason’s jaw tightened. He pulled out the booking form and started filling in the blanks.
“And another thing,” Mrs. Abernathy continued, because apparently ninety-seven-year-old witches who knitted sweaters for squish-squids couldn’t read the room.
“Don’t let anger and hurt cloud your judgment, dear.
What you’re really feeling is love. You just don’t know how to express it.
” She reached over and patted his hand, leaving ink on his tanned skin. “But I have faith in you.”
He stopped writing. His pen hovered over the form. He stared at the ink on his hand and then at the lines on the page. “I’ll contact the prosecuting attorney in the morning. You’ll spend the night here, but I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”
“I’m sure I will be,” Mrs. Abernathy said pleasantly. “I’ve heard a lot about that cot over the years.”
He led her to the holding cell...the same holding cell that had imprisoned Princess Muffin Top three times this week, the same cot Princess Muffin Top had serenaded the station from, the same four walls that had witnessed more chaos in the past five days than most small-town stations saw in a year, he was sure.
And again his heart and stomach both felt like he’d been hit with an iron fist.
Mrs. Abernathy settled onto the cot, set her purse beside her, and pulled out a paperback romance novel. “Goodnight, Chief. Try not to brood and worry too much. It gives you wrinkles.”
Mason chuckled as he closed the cell door.
The clank of the lock making him wince. He walked back to his front-station desk and sat down.
The station was quiet. Mrs. Abernathy wouldn’t be serenading him while she was locked behind bars.
The ink pad was still open, and Mrs. Abernathy’s thumbprint was still drying on the card.
He withdrew his cell phone. No messages from Adeline.
Not that he should have been shocked. He’d have been shocked if she had left him a message or a text.
He closed his eyes and groaned. How could he have messed things up so badly?
Just a few hours ago he stood in her bakery and kissed her...
again. He was sure she felt the same way about him as he felt about her.
Mrs. Abernathy’s words rang through his head.
She’d come straight to him. She’d figured it out, and she’d come straight to him.
Mrs. Abernathy was right, Adeline could have kept it to herself.
She could have protected the old witch. Could have let him keep looking in the wrong direction.
But she hadn’t. She’d walked into his station and told him the truth, knowing it would cost her.
And he’d told her to go back to her bakery.
Mason leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
The hurt was still there...real and heavy and lodged somewhere between his ribs and heart.
But he wasn’t angry, just disappointed. In himself.
In the situation. In the fact that the first good thing he’d had in over a decade was sitting in a Volkswagen bus somewhere on Tide Street, probably just as upset because he’d been too proud and too hurt to say what he should have said…
which was, “Thank you for coming and telling me.”
Mason picked up his cell phone again. He typed two words. Deleted them. Typed them again. Deleted them again.
He set the phone on the desk and rubbed his face with both hands.
Tomorrow. He’d figure it out tomorrow. Right now he had a prisoner to see to. No way was he going to leave her alone in the station overnight. It was going to be a long night sleeping in the chair...but a part of him thought he deserved it.
And the other part of him started thinking about what he had to do to fix his mess.