Chapter 7
We brought Mom home, which was good since her absence was hard on Dad. I also filled Riley in on everything that had happened at the club, although it wasn’t necessary since news was already spreading around town.
Over the next two days, I spent most of my free time digging into Easton Hancock, Charles Bingley, and Darcy.
While there were articles and pictures about Charles all over the web, I could hardly find anything about his murderous friend “Darcy”—if that was even his real name.
And while the false name might explain why I couldn’t find anything online, it also brought a slew of questions bubbling to the surface like a cauldron over a fire.
“Thanks for letting me come with you, Jane.” I inhaled the crisp scent of autumn air and smoke from a small bonfire at the Autumn Festival.
“I needed to cover the festival for work anyway, so it’ll be more fun to come with you.
” When research had gotten me nowhere, I’d invited myself on Jane’s date using work as an excuse.
“Of course. I’m glad you said something. We’re going to have a blast.” Jane squeezed my hand and pulled me deeper into the crowd. “You’re going to love Charles.”
“I’m sure I will. He seems cool,” I said. “Just the fact that he recognized how amazing you were at the club guarantees that I’ll like him.”
Jane’s smile widened. “I was so surprised when he asked me to dance again.”
I sighed dramatically. “That is the difference between us. Compliments, even ones that are well deserved, always surprise you, but the true mystery would’ve been if Charles hadn’t asked you to dance again. I give you permission to like him. He doesn’t suck.”
She giggled. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Not as ridiculous as some men you’ve liked.”
Leaves crunched under our feet as we wove between townspeople, and I stepped around a few enchanted jack-o’-lanterns that wandered across the path on stubby vine legs.
“Once we get to know Darcy like Charles does, I’m sure we’ll see that he isn’t capable of killing anyone,” Jane said after a moment.
Pushing away a sliver of guilt, I fingered the glass vial in my pocket.
I was going to get to know Darcy, but not for the reasons Jane hoped.
If he had the police force in his pocket—who was he to do that anyway?
—I had to find out everything I could about him, and this was my best shot.
I’d saved a bit of the veritas potion I brewed the other night, so all I had to do was give it to Darcy without him or Jane noticing.
I had no idea why Darcy agreed to come today, but this was my chance to verify his motive, means, and opportunity.
Well, just his motive, as his opportunity and means were clear.
“Who knows? Maybe you two will even become friends?” She shot me a hopeful smile.
I pressed my lips together instead of telling Jane that it was more likely for me to decide to stay in Austen Heights forever than it was for Darcy and me to be friends, especially after that crap he pulled with Mom.
“Give him a chance, Lizzy.”
“Why are you hounding me about this, Jane? You don’t know him that well, either.” It wasn’t like her to be so stubborn about something, which was yet another sign of how quickly she was falling for Charles.
She bit her lip, betraying her discomfort. Even this small confrontation was hard for her, but she didn’t look away. “Because once you make up your mind about someone, it can be hard to change it.”
“Well, excuse me for not wanting to be friends with a killer.” I cleared my throat and glanced down at my ankle boots.
“You’re dressed nicely for someone who isn’t trying to impress anyone.” Jane tugged on the sleeve of my knit sweater and gave me a small smile, trying to clear the air.
“I don’t want to give the fae any more reason to look down on us.” Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to look my best for what I had planned.
Jane sighed and fell silent, so I pulled my scarf tighter over my loose brown waves to counter the chill and reviewed what I’d learned so far.
Darcy had killed Easton with his magic outside Netherfield Park, and I’d confirmed with a friend of mine on the force that the cause of death was unknown.
The police still leaned toward Mom, for reasons I had yet to get to the bottom of.
That was one of many things I hoped to discover today.
But since my questions had proved ineffective before, it was time to try sweet-talking the answers out of him with what the town called the “Bennet charm” mixed with a healthy dose of a truth potion.
We passed Lydia chatting with a girl at the Enchanted Teapot’s booth. The two were deep in conversation with their heads pressed together.
“When did they become friends?” I asked Jane as I tilted my head toward Lydia and the other girl.
“I don’t know. I guess they moved in while we were off at college, so maybe then,” she said. “She’s the daughter of the fae who own the Enchanted Teapot, right?”
“I think so.” They weren’t exactly our business rivals since they sold herbal remedies, but they were the closest thing our potion shop had to competition in Austen Heights.
Although when it came to rivals, Mom always said her biggest competition was Mrs. Long, which made absolutely no sense since she owned a fashion boutique.
Those two always found the silliest things to compete with.
Lydia caught my eye, then linked arms with the other girl and pulled her away.
I glanced at Jane, but she was fidgeting with her skirt, her brow pinched as she studied her outfit. I grabbed her hand to stop the nervous gesture. “You look beautiful, Jane.”
Her expression cleared like the sun glinting off the harbor, and her dimples peeked out. “Thanks, Lizzy.”
I sighed in mock disappointment. “You see? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re far too nice to everyone and forgive far too easily, which is exactly why I have to be twice as disagreeable for both of us.”
“And you have to hold on to grudges longer?” Jane asked with a grin.
“Precisely.”
We burst out into laughter. It was times like these when it was easy to remember that Jane wasn’t just my big sister. She was my best friend.
“Jane!” Charles called as he elbowed his way through the crowd.
Jane squeezed my hand and said in a low voice, “Promise me you’ll give Darcy a chance.”
“I will.” I’d give him a chance to explain himself with the help of my potion, which maybe wasn’t what she wanted but was the best I could offer.
Charles reached us and stopped in front of Jane, smiling at her.
Darcy trailed behind in a blue quilted vest, white T-shirt, and probably overpriced shoes.
It looked like he was trying to fit in with what he thought people wore in small towns, but the shoes ruined it.
He stared at me, probably thinking Jane and I had been laughing too loudly or something—as if the festival wasn’t full of noise already.
“Hi.” Jane’s cheeks were rosy, and it wasn’t from the chill.
“Hey.” Charles still hadn’t stopped grinning, unlike Darcy, whose brooding expression darkened his green eyes.
“Thanks for inviting us.” I forced a sunny smile for Darcy.
Jane gave me a nod of approval, but Darcy’s eyes widened, then narrowed again.
This might be harder than I thought.
“Do you two want any food or would you like to ride something?” Charles asked.
“I’m not hung—”
“I’d love a drink,” I cut Jane off with an apologetic smile. I didn’t have to fake a shiver as a cold breeze snaked through the area. “I think they’re selling pumpkin brew over there.”
The four of us made our way over, and Charles paid for our drinks, which sparkled with pixie dust as the vendor set them on the counter. Steam rose from their surface, along with the mouthwatering scents of pumpkin and vanilla.
My hand hidden in the pocket of my pea coat shook slightly. I needed to get the potion into Darcy’s cup without getting caught.
Before Charles passed out any of the drinks, someone jostled into me from behind.
I stumbled forward, tumbling against Darcy’s hard chest. His warmth washed over me, completely at odds with the way he stiffened. Cheeks hot, I retreated until I couldn’t feel Darcy’s breath on my face.
Darcy glowered at the teenager now rubbing his forehead and shooting sheepish glances at a group of boys laughing nearby.
“Guys.” The boy glared at his friends, who stood near a table where a few townspeople were preparing for the annual pie-eating contest.
“Are you okay, Lizzy?” Jane shot me a worried glance.
“I’m fine.” As soon as their attention returned to the boy, I yanked the vial from my pocket and poured half of it into the cup nearest Darcy.
Too much would make the taste too noticeable, but only pouring some limited how long the potion would work.
If I’d done my estimates correctly, it should affect him in the next few minutes and give me a quarter of an hour to ask my questions.
I shoved the vial back into my pocket and picked up two of the untainted cups. I pasted on what was hopefully a normal-looking smile and handed one to Jane, claiming the other for myself. My pulse thrummed in my ears, and I tried not to stare too hard at Darcy.
“You should apologize.” Darcy’s tone was as frosty as the ice I’d scraped off my windshield that morning.
The boy’s eyes widened, matching my own stunned gaze. He ducked his head with a muttered, “Sorry,” in my direction.
“No harm, no foul,” I told him before he shuffled off with his friends. Why had Darcy made him apologize to me? No, wait. He hadn’t told him to apologize to me, just to apologize. He’d probably meant that the boy needed to apologize to Darcy for disrupting his outing.
Jane wrapped her hands around her cup and inhaled the steam. “Mmm. Smells great.”
Darcy reached for his cup, and I inhaled sharply, praying the scent of cinnamon and spices would cover the potion.
“Darcy, wait.” Charles took the cup instead.