Chapter 9
I drifted into wakefulness, the transition as gentle as the winter snow. I snuggled deeper into the pillow, not wanting to open my eyes and face the day. Chiyo Obasan’s bed was much more comfortable than mine. It was warm and soft and smelled like cinnamon.
Wait a second. Cinnamon?
I tensed and cracked an eye open to find my arms wrapped around William and my face buried against his chest. His arms were around me too—which explained why it was so warm—but his breathing was slow and steady. He was still asleep.
Just for a second, I let myself soak in his warmth even though my instincts told me to pull away.
The whole point of our marriage was to keep my heart safe, but maybe I didn’t want to play it safe anymore.
What happened with Hugh—that complete and utter betrayal—was the worst possible outcome.
But William wasn’t smooth or womanizing.
He was awkward and overeager and not good with people.
Being with him made me realize how tired I was of being alone.
Maybe it was time for us to renegotiate the terms of our marriage of convenience. I couldn’t deny that a part of me wanted to.
But I was getting ahead of myself. Before we could figure out us, we had to figure out who was trying to hurt William. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him—especially now that I’d finally admitted how I felt.
I eased out of his arms as gently as I could, moving at a snail’s pace. I could have sworn the blanket wrapped around me even more tightly like it didn’t want me to leave his warmth.
William’s head tossed from side to side. Poor guy was having a bad dream. I resisted the urge to reach up and put my hand on his cheek to calm him. Instead, I continued the delicate process of extricating myself.
I’d managed to put quite a few inches between us but hadn’t quite escaped one of his arms when William jerked awake and sat bolt upright, his eyes wide and breathing heavy.
I sat up too. “Are you okay?”
He sucked in a few more deep breaths, then glanced at me. “Bad dream.”
“About what?”
“About that night,” he whispered.
I tensed, electricity running through me like his words were a live wire. “Did you remember something?”
“Yes. No? I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his brown hair, making the short curls even wilder. “May I hold your hand for a moment? I find it helps me focus, helps ground me.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
My necklace warmed, a sign that there was more he wanted to say, but what he’d managed was enough.
“Sure.” I slid my hand over to his and he wrapped his fingers around my slim ones. I’d never thought of William as particularly strong, but the steady way he gripped my hand belied his exterior. He had a quiet strength, one that he probably needed with his work as a pastor.
William’s eyes slid shut and he held my hand firmly but gently as he took slow, even breaths. After a minute, his hazel eyes slid open and found mine. “I think we were wrong.”
“About what?” I whispered back, not sure why we were whispering but not wanting to break his concentration.
“About me being the victim.” He wrinkled his nose in thought. “I don’t think the killer was after me.”
“You don’t?” My mouth fell open. “They were after Dahlia?”
“I think so.” His fingers traced his cuff. “I don’t remember why, but in my dream, or memory, she definitely came to me for help and I remember thinking I needed to protect her. There was something wrong… something that happened.” He blew out a breath. “I can’t remember.”
His words reminded me of Lizzy’s text, and my stomach tightened at the thought that Tessa might be involved.
I caught my thumb rubbing a soothing circle over the back of William’s hand, and I stopped it.
“If what you’re saying is true and it’s actually a memory and not just a dream, then that opens up some new avenues to explore.
We have lunch scheduled with Tessa, so we can get some info there and maybe find out about whatever secret Dahlia had uncovered about her. ”
“Do you think we should let the police handle it from here?” His brow furrowed like he was organizing a particularly difficult set of religious books. “If I’m not the target, maybe we shouldn’t be involved anymore.”
“We can’t stop now.” I shook my head and twisted some of my unruly black locks into a simple braid to keep them out of my face. “You might not have been their intended victim, but the odds are high that you saw the killer, which means they might still come after you to shut you up.”
“That sounds logical.” William sighed. “Didn’t you say they had plans to meet up that night? If so, Tessa talked to Dahlia just a few hours before she died. Maybe Tessa heard something that would be helpful. Or maybe she was the one who killed her.”
I shivered at his blunt tone. “We should also talk to Dahlia’s uncle again. He can probably tell us more about her social life and friends in town.”
I glanced at William. He didn’t like it when I brought up the potential of Lady Catherine’s involvement, which made it hard to talk through all the suspects.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, using the excuse to get out of bed and reinstate a bit of distance between us.
“I’ll see if I can find some brunch for us before we go. ”
“I’ll join you in a moment.”
I headed to the kitchen and found a note from Chiyo Obasan next to two cups of cocoa and a tray of traditional Japanese food.
The cocoa must’ve been in her ever-warm mugs since steam was still rising from them.
I rummaged through her cupboards until I found a pack of Earl Gray tea, and I let that steep while I admired the breakfast. My stomach grumbled at the smell of the grilled salmon, miso soup, and tamagoyaki, which she’d cut into the shape of snowflakes.
I skimmed her note, which told me she’d send me the money within the week so we could start getting things in order.
While at first I’d been a little annoyed that she’d wanted me to get married to get the money for my shop, now I was sort of grateful for her heavy-handed methods.
I never would’ve given William a chance otherwise.
I folded the note and slipped it into my pocket, butterflies stirring in my stomach. It was finally happening. But now I couldn’t tell if I was excited about the thought of the shop or the thought of opening it with William.
“I love eggs for breakfast,” he said from behind me. “Although I’ve never seen them cooked this way before.”
I jumped a little. “This is a tamagoyaki, or a Japanese rolled omelet. My aunt knows I love them.”
“That’s the third match in our preferences.” He smiled at me.
“You said you don’t like cocoa, so this one is for you,” I said, our hands brushing as I passed him the mug. He froze for a moment, but then his smile grew at the small touch. I pulled my hand back, blushing furiously.
“That was very thoughtful of you.” His other hand traced the rim of the cup, revealing another glimpse of his palm. His hand still had that sigil, a mark that was clearly a sign of a defensive spell he’d cast instead of a killing one.
“Maybe you were defending Dahlia instead of yourself,” I mused aloud.
“Maybe.” He glanced at the scrolling mark on his palm. “I’d like to think so.”
We ate a quick brunch, then headed into town. We pulled into a spot near Regency Meadow Park and walked through the streets to get a feel for how the festival decorations were going considering the situation with the missing star.
William held out his hand to me, a silent invitation to take it. My cheeks heated, but I slid my hand into his.
Christmas decorations filled the space, everything in full-swing for the tree lighting ceremony despite the missing star.
A group of kids made snowmen and snow angels using the fresh inches of snow we’d gotten last night.
Another child stood next to a candy-cane-shaped booth titled Letters to Santa, scribbling furiously.
At Lady Catherine’s booth, Merrick sold a few ornaments to someone.
A quick scan of the park showed that Maris was at another booth.
The brownie collected a frost-painted portrait of her and Merrick from Pennyfern’s booth, their names glinting in an elegant scrawl across the top.
The little sprite handled the painting with surprising ease even though it was twice her size.
I bit my lip and stopped in front of the Tea and Tarot. “I know you don’t want to consider it, but I feel like we can’t cross Lady Catherine off the suspect list just yet.” I took a moment to tell him what I’d seen in the memory ornament at her house and how she had no alibi for that night.
“There could have been a logical reason for her to say something that sounded like a threat. I don’t want to assume I understood her intent.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
I shook my head. “Maybe, but we can’t afford to be blinded by loyalty. I’m not against looking for other suspects, but I think we need to keep an open mind.”
He sighed. “I’ll consider it, but making an accusation without objective evidence would be irresponsible.”
“We’ll keep an open mind,” I promised.
“I like that ‘we.’’” He gave me a small smile. “Thank you for not making assumptions without evidence. I think loyalty reduces uncertainty—like a constant in a complex equation. Protecting Lady Catherine fits that logic, and I’d apply the same reasoning to your family, if necessary.”
His words stopped me cold. His fierce loyalty wasn’t blind; it was a careful kind of love, the kind that shaped his every move.
I’d been ready to scoff at him for it, but hadn’t I been doing the same?
I let my family’s expectations mold my choices, my fears, my heart, just like he’d let Lady Catherine shape his life.
I’d sacrificed so much and called it strength.
Maybe it was. But maybe William’s loyalty wasn’t weakness, either. And now that we were together, maybe we could find our own way.
The door jingled as we walked in, playing “Here Comes Santa Claus.” We walked under the evergreen garland framing the door and I inhaled the smell of orange and cloves—the perfect scent for a candle.
Unmelting snow dusted the walls and shelves even as red and green candles floated overhead.
A couple sat at a round table in the corner getting their fortune told by Madame Rosa, a dryad who peered into a crystal ball.
“Hey, Charlotte.” Tessa waved us over to her table, then tucked a lock of her brown bob behind an ear. We wove between a few others, which all had peppermint sticks decorating the tables, and passed by the reading nook now draped in red velvet and mistletoe.
“Hey.” I gave her a quick hug while William shuffled his weight from foot to foot behind me.
She nodded at William, shooting him a cursory glance, then focused on me. “So what is it you said you wanted to talk about?”
“It’s about Dahlia,” I said. “William thinks that she might’ve been the target after all.”
Her mouth fell open. “Are you serious? Why?”
“I’m not positive,” William said, “but I think my memory from that night at least partially came back while I slept. I remember her coming to me for help, and I think she was in trouble.”
Tessa chewed her lip. “That changes things.”
“I’m not sure how to interpret it yet,” William said, “but I also believe it’s noteworthy.”
“I know you mentioned that the two of you were pretty close, so we were hoping you might have some more information.” I rested my elbows on the table and leaned forward.
She narrowed her gaze. “You aren’t trying to do my job for me, are you, Charlotte?”
I shrugged. “Just trying to make sure that no one is going after my husband.” The word warmed me from the inside. William was mine, and I needed to protect him.
“Well, we spent quite a bit of time together when she’d come to visit her uncle in the summers, but we didn’t keep in contact a ton the rest of the year.”
“Can you tell us anything else about her?” I asked.
“Hmm.” Tessa fiddled with a lock of hair. “She was a fourth-grade teacher, but she told me she was hoping to move here after this school year ended. She wanted to come for good and find a place of her own since sometimes she and her uncle didn’t get along.”
“You mentioned that you were planning on seeing Dahlia after the wedding, right?” I asked.
“We were supposed to meet before my shift started, but she cancelled last minute.” Tessa frowned.
“She cancelled?” I exchanged a glance with William.
“Yeah, it was pretty abrupt,” Tessa continued, “so I went home after the wedding and spent the evening with my parents until I got called in for work when we found Dahlia’s body.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” William said.
She curled her hands into fists on the table. “Thanks.”
If Tessa was telling the truth, then she had an alibi for the time window of Dahlia’s murder.
Or she might. I still needed to check—but at least there was something to check now.
I could still ask her about Lizzy’s text.
“Also, this is random, but what was it that Dahlia found out that threatened your job?”
“How do you even—” She cut herself off and shook her head. “Not sure why anyone bothers trying to keep secrets here.”
I sat patiently, folding my hands in my lap.
She sighed. “Dahlia found out that I’d bewitched some snowmen to throw snowballs and yell at people as they drove by.”
“I remember when you did that,” I said. “It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.”
“It wasn’t at first.” She bit her lip, then blew out a breath. “But then one of the snowmen startled an old lady so badly that she drove her car off the road and got into an accident.”
I winced. I’d forgotten about that. “Is that really enough to lose your job?”
“I don’t know, but I didn’t want it brought to the chief’s attention either way. Better safe than sorry, ya know?” She shrugged.
I chewed on my lip, running over her story. “We spoke to Dahlia’s uncle yesterday and he mentioned something about an ex-boyfriend,” I said. “Do you know who he is?”
She nodded. “Of course I do, and you know him too.” She turned to William. “I’m surprised you don’t already know considering you work with him.”
“Wait… are you talking about Brexton?” I gaped at her.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt if you talked to him, but I don’t think he hurt Dahlia. It’s been years since they broke up.”
“That outcome wasn’t in my mental model of possibilities,” William said.
“Brexton didn’t say anything about dating Dahlia last time I talked to him,” I said. “So it looks like we need to pay our dear old junior pastor a visit.”