Chapter Twenty
Cricket trembled as she held the note—it was the same handwriting as the one left for her before. When she stepped forward, a hand pressed down on her shoulder, and she screamed, whirling, knife in her grasp, but Zephyr dodged the blade.
“It’s me, Cricket,” he said, his voice soothing. “I heard your scream while I was gathering supplies from the tent and rushed over here.”
Just as she was about to answer, more sets of feet thumped against the earth. Several performers halted near the edge of the woods where they stood. Wilder, Autumn, and a few of the strong men studied them.
“You were screaming,” Autumn said, holding a wooden staff. “What happened?”
“Check the rest of the woods. The murderer was just here wearing a bright yellow cloak with a long pointy hood. They left this note pinned to the tree for me.” Cricket handed Zephyr the letter while the others spread out and began searching through the woods and cemetery.
Zephyr furrowed his brow as he read the letter, his expression hardening. “You didn’t see what direction they went?” He clenched his knife in his other hand as he surveyed the area.
“No, I saw the yellow fabric slip behind the trees, but I suppose I wasn’t quick enough. They vanished as soon as I came in here.”
“Let me take a look around.”
“I’ll go with you.” Cricket gripped her blade, her knuckles white. If she had any enhanced strength, she would’ve easily crushed it.
They trekked through the trees, searching for any sign of movement or even a scrap of yellow fabric that had possibly snagged along a branch. But there was nothing besides the sounds of crunching leaves or snapping twigs from their own feet. The only evidence of anyone being there was the note fisted in Zephyr’s hand. She peered at the ground for footprints, but the dirt was too hardened for the murderer to have left any behind.
“We came up with nothing,” Autumn said as she and Wilder stepped out from between two trees.
“Empty here as well.” One of the strong men sighed, his muscles bulging against the sleeves of his shirt.
Zephyr gave the letter back to Cricket. “The upside is that a left-behind note is better than a dead body, right?”
Cricket scowled. “I suppose. I need to tell Mistress Eliza, then give it to Bram.”
“We’ll inform the others what happened while you two do that,” Autumn said to Zephyr and Cricket before they went their separate ways.
Mistress Eliza wasn’t in her caravan but sitting inside her tent, sifting through a deck of tarot cards. Two candles were lit, and a few crystals rested on the square table draped in red velvet fabric.
“Need a reading that desperately? You know the rules about barging in here,” Mistress Eliza snapped, but then her brows rose as she studied their faces. “What is it?”
“I’m telling you this time,” Cricket started, an anxious feeling clawing at her insides. “A note from the Dahlia Murderer was left for me in the woods near the cemetery. They were wearing a yellow cloak, but they got away.”
Mistress Eliza pushed up from the chair and limped toward them. Her lips remained set in a tight line as she read over the note. “Was anyone murdered?”
Zephyr shook his head. “No, and this isn’t Cricket’s fault. You won’t threaten or berate her for this, or I’ll fucking leave right now with her.”
“Well then…” Mistress Eliza blinked, seeming unused to this tone from Zephyr toward her.
“It’s fine, Zephyr, you don’t have to—”
But the necromancer cut her off by lifting a hand. “What I need is for you two to take a horse and tell the authorities to get this solved. We have lost pay, and traveling to our next location is still too soon. Everyone here needs to remain in pairs. No more milling about alone at whatever hours people please.”
“I won a good amount of money yesterday at the pub during a card game. Not that it’s as much as what could’ve been earned, but you can have it for the carnival,” Cricket offered.
“Thank you, child. That will do.”
After telling Mistress Eliza that the other performers were being informed, Zephyr grasped Cricket by the hand and led her toward the horses.
“We can take one together. It’ll be faster,” he said as he untacked a chestnut mare from the stables.
The last time Cricket had ridden a horse was when she’d first awoken and had borrowed it to take back to Nobel over a month ago.
After placing the saddle on the mare, Zephyr easily lifted Cricket and settled her into it. With one swift motion, he mounted behind her, his strong body pressed to hers as he grasped the horse’s reins and brought them down. The mare jolted, then barreled forward. A small yelp escaped Cricket, and she gripped the horse’s mane, perhaps a bit too roughly, as the mare galloped at a pace faster than she’d ever ridden. Growing up, she and Anika had never had their own horses—they’d always walked everywhere. Bram was the one who’d taught them both how to ride.
It didn’t take long before they reached the heart of the city. Cricket knew Bram wouldn’t be at his manor and would most likely either be with the authorities or at the coroner’s.
Zephyr tugged on the reins, slowing the horse to a stop as they reached the authority building. He easily leapt to the gravel from the mare and grasped Cricket by the waist to help her down. She didn’t hesitate and rushed into the building with Zephyr close behind her.
Miles’s eyes widened when he noticed her, and he set aside the book he held. “Can I help you with something, Miss Cricket?” His voice was gentle as it had been each time she’d encountered him.
“Is Bram here? We need to speak to him,” she rushed out, looking around the room and finding only two other empty desks and sketches of the city with markings pinned to the walls.
“He came from the coroner’s earlier, then had to run another errand, but he should be back at any moment.”
Zephyr leaned against the desk, telling Miles about the note left for her when the door opened. Bram walked in, taking his hat from his head, his hair mussed. His gaze fell to hers, and he halted. “Cricket?”
She didn’t waste time and took the note from her satchel. “If you had any doubt that the same person was the murderer from last night, this is proof they are. They were in the woods near the cemetery wearing a bright yellow cloak. I followed them but only found this note.”
Bram’s lips pursed while scanning the message. “What the hell were you doing following someone into the woods alone?”
“I screamed for the others as I went inside, and I had a knife. I didn’t just tiptoe in there. I couldn’t waste time and let them slink away, even though they did just that.” She may not be an authority, but she wasn’t helpless.
Bram pinched the bridge of his nose.
“It’s fucking obvious the murderer is taunting her,” Zephyr growled. “What are you going to do about that?”
“What she needs is not to be left alone.” Bram frowned.
“I wasn’t alone. Anika and Breeta came for breakfast. They had just left when I saw the flash of yellow,” Cricket said.
“Anika?” He inhaled sharply, his lips pursing together even tighter. “A murderer is on the loose, and no one chooses to listen.”
Zephyr’s jaw hardened. “Cricket has received two letters now, and you’ve found nothing on the handwriting?”
“Three times,” Bram said, releasing a breath. “The coroner discovered one this morning, hidden in a secret pocket of the victim’s coat from last night. I was going to leave here and come straight to the carnival to tell you.”
Cricket swallowed the lump in her throat down. “What did it say?”
Bram took the letter from the front pocket of his coat and opened it for her to read. Cricket, it’s a pity you stabbed the wrong person .
Zephyr cursed under his breath as nausea bubbled up her throat.
“I’m going to question everyone at the carnival again,” Bram started. “Are you certain you want to stay there still?”
“I’ll make sure she has someone with her at all times. She’s safe with us at the carnival,” Zephyr said.
The murderer had known she was at the pub the night before… “I don’t think it matters where I go, but I’ll let Mistress Eliza decide,” Cricket murmured. “We’ll follow you there.”
Cricket and Zephyr mounted their horse with Bram and Miles following suit. When they arrived at the carnival, most of the performers were gathered around the fire, only a few eating. Juniper rushed toward Cricket, her red curls tangled from the breeze, while Zephyr returned the mare to the stables.
“You received another letter?” Juniper asked, her eyes wild with worry.
“Not only that one. Another was left as a vengeful little gift on the victim from last night, telling me it’s a pity I stabbed the wrong person,” Cricket said, anger now coursing through her instead of nausea.
Juniper bit her lip as she furrowed her brow, seeming to mull something over. “I don’t understand the point of these notes being left behind. If the murderer wanted you dead, they would most likely do it. Why taunt? Unless it’s part of something bigger and they’re waiting.”
“Waiting for what, though?” Cricket wondered aloud.
“I don’t know, but it’s something for us to think about.”
Bram was questioning Mistress Eliza and two other performers. The necromancer’s eyes found hers, and she sighed. Cricket knew she must’ve heard about the third note and was holding a strong opinion that Cricket was more trouble than she was worth, that she was luring a murderer into the carnival over and over again.
Once Bram finished with Mistress Eliza, the necromancer limped toward her and motioned Juniper away.
“I can leave if you want,” Cricket said.
“I’m not going to yell at you, child. It seems, more than anything, you need to be protected. No one else has been hurt or threatened here, so we’ll do our best to take care of you. These sorry excuses for authorities need to move faster. Just watch your back and don’t bathe alone either,” the woman grunted. “You can stay now, but the same circumstance remains for when we leave for the next town, regardless.”
That was more than Cricket expected. “Thank you.”
Once Mistress Eliza went to talk with Autumn, Zephyr slid up beside her. “Seems she needs a good night of pleasure to rid herself of that sour mood.” He smirked. “In case you thought I was offering myself to be the one, I wasn’t. I have my sights set on the lovely blonde female standing beside me.”
Cricket rolled her eyes. “She needs her necromancy back is what she needs. But she’s allowed me to stay when most wouldn’t have.”
Wilder and a group of performers approached. “We’ll make sure you’re safe, Cricket,” he said. She’d rarely talked to any of them, but his kind words made her heart swell. Yet she felt as if she’d brought all of this on herself.
Bram pulled her aside, questioning her one more time alone. She had nothing else to give besides mentioning the yellow cloak again. She couldn’t even give accurate details such as height and body shape since she hadn’t been close enough. But they hadn’t appeared smaller than Cricket. It most certainly could’ve been either a man or a woman. If only she’d caught a glimpse of the hair color or part of their face.
“The person seems to be growing bolder, though,” Cricket said. “Since they left a note like this during the day.”
“I’m going to have more authorities monitor the roads here. We’re going to catch this bastard just as we did with Clancy. I swear it,” Bram vowed.
As he turned away, she promised herself that when the murderer was caught, she would be front and center to watch them hang, the way she hadn’t been able to witness Clancy’s death.