3. Not-so-welcome back #2
“I’m pretty sure it was a supe. But I don’t know any more than that. Just that someone wanted me dead and now I am.” She waits a beat. “And you need to help me find out who did it.”
“Me? No—”
“You owe me.”
“I don’t think I do.”
“You wouldn’t even be in Moonburrow if it weren’t for me.”
Technically, that’s true. It was Olivia who went to both her coven leader and the chief deputy, telling them that Ashton Morgan was ‘cursed’ and a cursebreaker was needed to fix him.
I only found out later that she was aware that Penelope Willows was the last in Morrigaine’s line, and she used that connection to see if I could figure out what antique in Roxy’s shop was the latest incarnation of Morrigaine’s mirror.
And then, when I told her that I knew it was a compact, she wanted me to help her steal it, I said no, and—
“You framed me for your murder!”
She has the audacity to look surprised that I’m still holding a grudge over that. “And? Now I’ve actually been murdered, so I’d appreciate it if you could focus on the now and not the past.”
“The past was two months ago!”
“And I’m dead now.”
“You tried to kill Roxy!”
“And someone succeeded in killing me. I think mine is the more pressing problem. And now I’m going to make it your problem.”
I stare at Olivia. Olivia stares right back, looking every bit as smug and self-important in death as she did while she was alive, and something tells me that whatever powers decide who gets to cross over immediately and who gets stuck behind made a terrible mistake.
“You’re a healer,” I remind her. “Or you were. Don’t you have some sort of witchy belief about accepting death gracefully?”
She scoffs. “Not when I was murdered.”
Murdered. She keeps saying that.
Wait.
“Where exactly did you die? You said the woods, but where? In Maryland or Virginia or…”
If Riordan Lobo had stayed out of Moonburrow because he was searching for Olivia, to bring her back and make her pay for faking her death and trying to murder Roxy, then the fact that she’s a ghost now suggests that he might’ve caught up with her wherever he is.
Especially since she seems so certain that it was a wolf who killed her—
“It was here. In Moonburrow.”
Okay, then.
Riordan isn’t in Moonburrow. If Olivia died within the recently strengthened borders, then he’s the only wolf shifter from this town that couldn’t have done it.
But who killed her? And why does she think I’m going to help her? Because I’m a seer?
That’s why she’s here. That’s what she said. That I’m the only seer she could go to… but what was she doing in Moonburrow?
More importantly—
“How did you escape? From the holding cell, I mean?”
I have to know. It’s bothered all of us in town for months. Let’s put her death on the back burner for a second. I need her to tell me this.
“Oh, that?” Olivia waves her hand, brushing aside the question as though I’m silly for even wasting time asking it.
“It was easy. I told Deputy Dog that the salt was making my nose itch. That it didn’t work to temper my magic anyway, and the silver in the bars was enough to keep me in place.
He believed me and started to sweep up the mess.
I zapped him and levitated his keys off of his belt so I could get out of the cell.
Poor thing. I’m sure he didn’t want to admit what happened, that a witch bested him, and it seems like he hid the fact that he accidentally helped my escape. ”
At least the coven had been telling the truth that none of them aided Olivia’s escape. I figured as much; Max was the one who went to speak with Delilah after Olivia disappeared, and the sheriff’s alpha wolf would’ve known if the head witch was lying to cover for any of her witches.
Same for whichever deputy messed up by believing Olivia’s lies. Though Max must’ve interrogated everyone who was working at the station that day, if the unconscious wolf had no idea how she broke free, he wouldn’t be fibbing when he told Max that.
Still, I’m nothing if not curious—and thorough, too.
“Deputy Dog?” I know it couldn’t be the chief deputy, but… “Who’s that?”
“Barrel? Some ridiculous name like that. It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t going to let some mutt keep me in a cell. Not when I had work to do. And now look at me! Mauled in my prime.” She sniffs. “I’m a healer, for Hecate’s sake. What good was that gift if I couldn’t heal myself?”
I make a mental note to pass it on to the sheriff the identity of the wolf—Barrow, I’m pretty sure—who inadvertently helped Olivia.
From talking to Honey, I know it bothers Max that the witch was able to waltz out of the sheriff station and disappear out of Moonburrow, and I’m hoping it’ll at least give him some closure about what happened.
I just really don’t want to help Olivia find hers.
Unfortunately for me, I’m beginning to understand that I don’t have any choice, though I’m hoping I might be able to pass her off to the real detectives in town…
“Okay. Why don’t you tell me where your body is. That’s the first step in solving a crime.”
“Come with me. I’ll show you. And we should make it snappy. I hate to think what the elements are doing to me. I was only murdered at midnight, and the wolf left me a mess. Still. No reason to attract any other predators.”
She has a point. I’ve watched enough true crime shows on mortal television to know that preserving the crime scene is essential—for the pros, not unwilling witches in their pjs.
“You can tell me where. You don’t have to show me.”
“No way. If I tell you where I am, you’ll call that Alpha, he’ll find my body, and you’ll decide your part is over. It isn’t. Sleep later. You have to solve my murder now.”
For Hecate’s sake. “I can’t solve your murder. I’m a witch, not a detective.”
“And that’s why you have to. You’re a fellow witch. A seer. It’s gotta be in the code—”
I frown. “Witches don’t have codes.”
“Maybe not in Salem. In Moonburrow, we try to help each other out.”
“Because of you, I was put in a holding cell and accused of murder!”
Because of Olivia, Roxy had her shop broken into, Ash was shot, and Riordan ran away from Moonburrow.
She sniffs. “Are you really going to hold that against me?”
I goggle at her wordlessly.
“Anyway, I want to make one thing crystal clear, Penelope. You will solve my murder. And you know why? Because I won’t cross over until you do.
Unless you figure out who killed me, I’ll be here whenever you least expect it, and I’ll nag you and nag you, and you won’t get a second’s peace until I do. ”
Damn it, she can do it, too. As a newly dead with unfinished business, her vow right then is basically a geas.
The magic will hold her to it. She’ll be stuck on Earth in purgatory until the condition is met—and, with the remnants of her magic clinging to her in death, she’s made it so that I can’t refuse.
Would I really have if I could? I don’t know, but one thing is clear: I have no idea what to do. Her body is somewhere out in the woods, supposedly there’s a killer wolf out there in the woods of Moonburrow, and, like I said, I’m no detective. I can’t investigate and solve a crime by myself.
But I know someone who can.
I reach for my phone.
“What are you doing?” Olivia asks, a suspicious note to her ghostly voice.
“If you think I’m going out to find your dead body by myself during the witching hour, you’re very wrong.
I’ll go because you’re right: I have no choice.
”Goddess damn it, it’s my duty, and her magic will insist that I go.
“I’ll have to help you, and I will. But that doesn’t mean I won’t ask for any help myself.
You were murdered, Olivia. This might be a supernatural town, but do you know what we do when there’s a crime? We call the police.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t—”
Yes. I would.
She’s a ghost. A newly formed ghost. She has nowhere near enough spectral energy to stop me from grabbing my phone and making a call.
Honey answers after several rings, her voice so groggy that I almost want to apologize and call back in the morning. If I do that, though, I’m stuck with Olivia and… yeah. As much as it sucks to do this, I have to.
“Hello?”
“Honey? It’s Penelope. I’m so sorry. I know what time it is.”
A rustle comes through the phone. “Pen? Is everything okay? What… what’s wrong?”
“I need you to wake Max up.”
That does it. She sounds way more alert when she asks, “Why? What do you need my mate for?”
“Because Olivia Frost is in my bedroom.”
Honey’s screech has my ear ringing as she yelps, “What?!”
I switch the phone to my other ear. “And she’s a ghost, Honey. She’s dead.”
Goddess.
She’s dead.