Chapter 9 #2
A gnome female with violet colored hair holding a notepad jabbed a fancy looking fountain pen in the air. “Yes! Her name was Dawn, and she was an employee of the local von Stiehl Winery.”
Beckett frowned. “And you believe it is another supernatural crime?”
“Yes.” Stewart said. “She was attacked in the same manner—from behind—and doesn’t remember the incident.”
I worriedly glanced at Beckett. The way he tightened his lips and shifted his weight made me suspect he was also concerned, even if he didn’t show it.
“The issue must be addressed,” Stewart declared. “If the humans realize a supernatural is the perpetrator, the trust we’ve worked so hard to forge with them will be broken. So.” He nudged Bobby forward. “A sacrifice. I mean gift!”
Bobby did a little flourish with his hat. “Bon Appetit!”
“No,” Beckett flatly said. “Go home—with your sacrifice.” He pulled me inside and slammed the door shut.
“Is it really okay to ignore them like that?” I asked.
“Certainly. They thrive on it.” Beckett frowned. “Ideally this will force them to take the issue to the werewolves and discuss it between the two groups—like they should.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” I said, slowly, even though I couldn’t help the wiggling sensation of concern in my gut. “The more supernaturals involved the better, and as you said you aren’t public. But…”
Beckett cocked his head. “What?”
“Is it really okay not to get involved at all? If something is hurting humans…”
Beckett rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll inform my contacts at Magiford.
But as I’m not public, that is the extent of what I can do.
Hopefully Magiford will send someone to handle it, or at the very least they’ll reach out to talk to the gnomes and the Ahnapee River Pack, since those are the two most populated supernatural groups in the area. ”
My shoulders settled at Beckett’s reassurance, and I nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”
Beckett nodded once. For some reason he seemed uneasy as he lingered with me.
I cast around my brain for anything I could further discuss with him. “You mentioned your Magiford contacts. Is that the group text chat of yours that you mentioned previously?”
Beckett relaxed, his forehead puckering in a war between amusement and judginess. “You have an uncomfortably good memory at times. Except when it comes to your work hours. You might be unaware, but it’s after five p.m. now, so you’re working—”
“Overtime,” I finished for him. “I know, I know. I’ll go store my binder and get off the clock.”
I hurried down the hallway before Beckett could chide me further, but even when I stepped into my office, I wasn’t able to gloat over my glorious binder. The knowledge of the second attack sat in my belly like an anchor.
Maybe I should ask Jonas and Shannon and see if I can get some more details for Beckett before he notifies his Magiford friend.
Before, I would have been happy to wash my hands of the situation as it didn’t involve me, but even so there was something still personal about this case. Besides, I was trying to be more involved in the community around me.
Snooping would count as being involved… right?
I stood on the sidewalk and stared up at the faded brick of the von Stiehl Winery, with its maroon entrance canopy, tapping my thigh with my rolled up copy of my Algoma guidebook.
“You look like you’re preparing for battle.”
I whirled around, then smiled. “Daphne. What are you doing in the area?”
“Flint wanted to get donuts and kolaches for the Pack from the North Water Bakery & Deli.” Daphne gestured across the river as she strode up the sidewalk, joining me. “He always takes forever to choose, so I thought I’d take a stroll in the meantime. What’s up?”
I uneasily rocked forward and backwards on the balls of my feet. “The gnomes visited Beckett yesterday. They told us about the second victim.”
Daphne raised her eyebrows. “You call Kinge, Beckett, now?”
“Yeah,” I said, a little surprised that was what she chose to react to. “Anyway, the gnomes mentioned the newest victim worked at the von Stiehl Winery. I was considering going in and talking to the staff to see if they could tell me anything about her.”
Daphne cocked her head back and forth. “Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a human. Why would you try to help us supernaturals with this issue?”
The question poked uncomfortably close to my own thoughts on if this was a good idea or if I was losing my mind.
I cleared my throat. “Beckett said he’d notify some people at Magiford. I thought the more details he had about the issue, the more they might be able to help.”
Daphne looked me up and down, her amber eyes intense. She then nodded, and offered me a friendly smile. “Got it. Let’s go in.”
“Together?” I hurried after her as she confidently strode up the front walkway.
“Sure! If you’re going to investigate the situation, I might as well help.”
“Thank you.” I hurriedly flipped open my guidebook. “According to their advertisement in the guidebook, they do wine tastings. Will you be okay to drink?”
“I’m not big into drinking as I’m not a fan of losing control given my werewolf strength.
But it takes quite a bit of alcohol to get me even a little toasted with my metabolism, so I can handle the wine tasting.
We can do it together, and ask our questions while we’re at it,” Daphne said as we climbed the cement stairs.
I recognized she was being friendly, so I attempted a smile. I might have misstepped though, as she gave me another searching look when she reached the shade of the awning. “Beckett, huh? Now that is interesting.” She shook her head, then pulled one of the wooden doors open.