CHAPTER NINE #2
After I finished with the mascara, I selected my eyebrow pencil and moved back to the mirror once more.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“Eyebrow pencil,” I explained. “My brows turned gray when my hair did, and if I don’t darken them up, they kind of disappear on my face.” I had finished the first brow when to my shock his hand reached over, cupped my chin and gently rotated my face toward his.
“I never realized that you darkened your eyebrows,” he said. “Seeing one done and one not...I understand what you mean. The darker brow makes your silver eyes really stand out.”
I froze. His hand was cupping my face, and we were close together in a hotel room. Alone.
For a moment we stood there not moving. He started to lean in closer. Our lips were about an inch apart when he suddenly seemed to realize where we were. Abruptly, Charles dropped his hand and stepped back.
He set the bag down on the dresser. “I’ll let you finish.”
Shaken by the almost kiss, I stayed quiet and finished my makeup. Once I was done, I unrolled the sock bun and finger combed the curls out.
“What strange magick is this?” Charles said. His genuine confusion made me smile. “Is that why your hair was in a bun?”
“It’s a sock bun,” I explained. “I roll my damp hair around the sock, leave it in overnight and it makes heatless curls in the morning.”
“Clever,” he said.
“Women’s magick,” I told him as I tucked my cosmetics bag into my tote. “And now I’m officially ready for breakfast.”
“Here’s hoping the Baneberry Diner is as good as the locals say,” he said, opening the door for me.
***
The diner’s breakfast was fabulous. Since I had no way of knowing what the day might bring, I chose a big breakfast with pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon from the menu and tucked right in. Charles ordered an egg white omelet, fruit, and wheat toast.
I caught him eyeballing my pancakes, and so I cut one of them in half and transferred it over to his plate. “Oh, for the love of the gods,” I said. “Have a pancake.”
Startled, he looked from the half-pancake and back to me.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Never had a woman share their breakfast with you before?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Live on the edge, Montgomery.” I picked up the syrup and passed it to him. “You know you want it.”
His blue eyes locked on mine, and I felt my face flush at my accidental double entendre.
“It seems...” he said, accepting the syrup while still maintaining eye contact, “that I just may.”
Trapped by my own careless words, I broke eye contact and focused on my food. It took us a few moments for the tension to fade, and our casual conversation to resume.
We had finished paying for our breakfast and were about to leave, when a tall, dark and uniformed male walked right up to our table.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m Lucas Archer, sheriff of Hemlock Hollow.”
I was pretty sure the male was a mortal...mostly. There was the slightest bit of magickal buzz about him. Meaning he likely had a Witch or possibly a Shaman as an ancestor. Gamely, I sent him a friendly smile, even though my stomach had tightened in a warning. “Good morning, Sheriff.”
“Mind if I join you?” he asked. And before I could say yeah or nay, he pulled out a chair and sat.
A waitress hailed him and brought him over a mug of coffee. He thanked her with a smile and returned his attention to Charles and me.
“My wife, Oona, is a member of the Council,” he said conversationally. “And she was informed of your arrival.”
The ‘council’ he referred to was obviously the Ozark Council of Supernaturals. Doing my best to appear composed, I reached for my water glass and took a sip.
I recognized the name of his wife, and it had my heart beating faster in anxiety.
It was a visceral reaction and even though it aggravated me, my apprehension was well-placed.
Because the ‘mostly mortal’ male at our table...
the sheriff...was married to Her Royal Highness, Princess Oona of the Dark Fae.
Still I fought hard not to let my emotions show.
If I had been seated with a Lycan or a Vampire, they would have certainly detected that my heart rate had picked up, and then my weakness would have been exposed.
The truth was that you never allowed another Supernatural being to know your fears, because dollars to doughnuts they would find a way to use it against you.
Glancing over at Charles, I could see that he was unaware of exactly who we were sitting with—and how he was connected to the local Supernaturals.
I had a moment to regret not filling him in on who was who in the hollow.
But truthfully, I hadn’t expected to be approached by the larger Supe community quite so quickly.
The sheriff took a sip of his coffee. “It’s my understanding that you are looking for Sawyer Weston and his girlfriend Shelby Murphy?”
“We are,” I said, working to keep my voice casual and my tone friendly.
“Sarah Weston, Sawyer’s sister,” Sheriff Archer began, “reported that her parents were missing a few days ago. Not shortly after her brother surprised the family with an unannounced visit.”
“I see,” Charles said. “How may we assist you, Sheriff?”
The man placed his mug on the table. “It is my understanding that Shelby Murphy was an employee of yours, Miss Southern?”
I met his gaze and held it. “Yes.”
He nodded. “Did you know her well?”
I grimaced. “Not as well as I’d thought, apparently.”
Sheriff Archer moved forward slightly in his chair. “Would you be able to identify her?”
From across the table, Charles narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Do you mean from a line up?”
Oh, my goddess. My stomach dropped hard as my intuition kicked in. “No. Not from a line up,” I said softly as not to be overheard by the other patrons. “You need me to come and identify a body. Don’t you, Sheriff?”
He nodded. “Last night a body was found in the state park. A white female, early thirties, with no identification. We pulled up Ms. Murphy’s driver’s license photo, however...with the condition of the body...”
“Meaning what exactly?” Charles asked.
“There was trauma to the face,” Sheriff Archer said very quietly.
My stomach twisted, and the bacon, eggs and pancakes I’d had for breakfast suddenly didn’t seem like such a good idea.
“Why ask Lorna?” Charles asked the sheriff. “Surely you can look at and compare dental records.”
“We could,” he agreed. “But first, we’d have to know Shelby Murphy’s dentist and obtain a court order. That would take time.”
I knew from Nash’s reports that Shelby had no living family. It would either be me or likely no one. Squaring my shoulders, I scooted my chair back from the table and stood. “All right,” I told him. “Let’s go now.”
Sheriff Archer stood as well. “Let me make a call so they’re ready for us.”
Together, the three of us exited the diner.