Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
Acrash outside the bathroom door made me flinch. I rushed out to see Brad hovering over Cosmo’s stroller.
"I must have put it down wrong, otherwise it wouldn't have toppled over,” I worried. "Are you okay?" I asked the poor cat, hoping he wasn't too startled.
He gave a weak meow. His head started to shake.
It took me a moment to realize that he was trying to point me toward something. I glanced around under my eyelashes. All I saw was a pair of rugged hiking boots. A bit of mud clung to them.
There was nothing peculiar about owning them. After all, we had a lot of woods around. And Brad was a nature lover. At least, that's the impression I got.
"I'm so sorry," I said to Brad. "I hope there's no damage."
"No worries." He gently touched my hand. "Do you want me to carry him and the stroller downstairs for you?"
“If you don’t mind? At least the rain has stopped," I said. "It's so hard to be trapped inside with bad weather."
"It’s the worst," he admitted. "Going on long hikes is one of my favorite things to do."
I didn't know what else to say, so I said nothing.
With one swift movement, Brad lifted the stroller with Cosmo and transported it down for Cosmo and I to head out.
"What was all that about?" I asked the cat once we were safely back home and in private.
"Did you notice anything?" Cosmo asked.
"Yeah. At first, I thought this guy was absolutely on the level. But he could just be a very slick operator."
"He's not a witch, if that's what you're wondering."
"Are you sure?" I asked Cosmo.
"Oh, definitely. For his job, he needs to open all kinds of energy channels. There's no way a human could cloak his abilities like that, when he’s practicing reiki. There are a few telltale signs."
"You said that before, but you didn’t really explain."
He groomed his sleek head. "You told me after the open mic night that you might have spotted other gifted humans."
"Right. I’d almost forgotten.” I gazed into his green eyes. “Is Reina a witch?"
"What makes you think so?"
"Her voice—the way she could always sing a crying baby to sleep.
You also said we can't use our gifts for personal gain.
Whenever there was a talent scout who invited Reina to a recording session, she never got a contract.
It happened again and again, yet I swear I've seen people on Broadway who couldn’t hold a candle to her. "
"She’s not a witch. But she is gifted." Cosmo smoothed the fur on his paws.
"Then what is she?"
"Ever heard of a siren?"
"Like the mythical creatures who lured sailors onto the shores and shipwrecked them?"
"They got a bad rap. But she has indeed siren blood in her veins.
Her magic only affects you when you hear her in person, not on a recording, which is all for the good.
Can you imagine otherwise what she or others could do, if you could be enchanted just by streaming her music or hearing her on the radio? "
"Poor Reina. She’s been heartbroken so many times, always thinking the next recording session would lead to a contract with a label."
"I told you, certain things come at a cost."
“At least she’s found her true love.” I remembered another question that had been on my mind. "Was it my fault that your stroller fell over, or did you topple it?"
"What else was I supposed to do?" Cosmo asked. "You weren’t looking properly."
"Oh yeah?" I crossed my arms. "I found an important clue in the bathroom.
“I found another one outside of it—one you wouldn’t have noticed."
"I don’t know about cats," I continued, "but among humans, liking nature hikes is considered normal. Especially when you live in a place like Oregon."
"But it is not normal," Cosmo said, "to leave muddy hiking boots upstairs when he’s got a perfectly good, functional shoe rack downstairs in the practice. One where he wouldn’t drag in all that mud. Haven’t you noticed how spotless and tidy the rest of the place was?"
"That’s true," I admitted. "But I still don’t understand what that’s supposed to tell me."
"Why didn’t he leave those boots downstairs?" Cosmo pressed.
I frowned. "Because he didn’t want anyone else to see them?"
"Exactly. And why didn’t he want anyone to see them?"
We seemed to be aligned in our thinking. "Because he had a secret rendezvous with somebody he shouldn’t have met. And then he got distracted or ran out of time and forgot to clean them properly."
"Now you’re getting it," Cosmo purred.
I sat down, my mind racing. "I think we need to go over our timeline again. Because while I was on the treatment couch, I could remember—pinpoint exactly—when I decided that my hair needed a serious change."
He purred again, not to relax me, but to show his appreciation.
I gave myself a slight pat on the shoulder. I’d been too hard on myself for too long, and that was going to change—for good. I grabbed a sheet of paper. "Let’s start from the beginning. When did Aunt Violet close the library on her last night?"
"At the normal time," Cosmo said.
"And everything was fine then. But about thirty minutes later..." I tapped my pen against the table. "That’s when I had the sudden urge to buy hair dye. I remember checking how long the drugstore would be open."
"Are you absolutely sure?" Cosmo asked.
"Positively. I double-checked online, and their opening hours haven’t changed. I had enough time to get there, ask a shop assistant for help, and then..."
"And then?"
"Go home," I finished.
The question lingered between us. What was happening here at that exact time?
"Violet and I had a conversation. Or rather, she was talking to me," he recalled. "She told me that, in her opinion, Jake’s death was no accident. And that she planned to do something about it."
A cold shiver ran down my spine. “If that’s what you and she were talking about," I said slowly, "then it triggered whatever is going on in the witchosphere—the transfer of Aunt Violet’s powers to me. And that means..."
"That’s what led to her death.”
The room felt colder suddenly.
"The question is," I asked, swallowing hard, "who would have known?"
"Anyone within earshot. We had the windows open. And she spoke loudly. Since she started losing her hearing, I got used to it."
We both stood back and looked at the timeline I’d scribbled down.
"The big question is—why was it so urgent to get rid of her?" I said aloud. "Everybody was buying the idea that Jake had died of natural causes. Or ate a bad mushroom."
"But she did send that letter," Cosmo pointed out.
"Yes, but even after the autopsy, there wasn’t much of an investigation. Which makes it likely that our killer wasn’t obviously linked to Jake’s death. They didn’t stand to gain so much from it that suspicion would immediately fall on them."
I paused. This was getting more complicated with every new revelation.
"Let’s write down the facts as we know them," Cosmo suggested.
I obeyed. There was too little to go on, but maybe, just maybe, writing it down would help us see the bigger picture.
"If only she’d made herself clear," Cosmo said. "She could have told me or left a note saying who she suspected—if she had a concrete suspicion."
"It feels more like she was trying to figure it out," I mused. "Or sending a warning."
My blood turned to ice. "I think I know why she had to die," I whispered. "Why they couldn’t just wait to see what happened with Jake."
"Why?" Cosmo asked, his ears twitching.
"Because there’s another murder about to happen. One that her survival would have made impossible to carry out."
I pressed my eyes shut. Think, Bex. Think.
"What do we know for certain?" I murmured, forcing myself to focus. "It all started with Jake."
"Right," Cosmo agreed.
"He was a warrior for the truth. Unbending. A stickler for the rules. Always insisting on doing the right thing."
"But he let Kyle off the hook," Cosmo pointed out.
"Because the boy was trying to make amends. Jake wouldn’t ruin his life over a stupid prank," I said. "And he made him work for it."
Then it hit me. An explanation that, for once, made sense.