8. Olivia returns
OLIVIA RETURNS
mother won’t let gus nibble on the leaves.
gus likes them. they smell like fun.
— gus
My whole body stiffens. A moment later, I turn to see Olivia hovering about five feet away from Riordan and me. She’s as near-transparent as she was before, only now I can see the end of the alley through her outline.
Riordan notices that something is wrong right away.
“Pen? What’s going on? Is she here? Is Olivia here?”
“I’ve been trying to get your attention forever,” she complains to me while ignoring the wolf shifter. “Something’s wrong with this building. I couldn’t manifest inside. I wasted too much energy trying, and I had to listen to you boo-hoo it up out here before I could finally catch your attention.”
Goddess damn it. And I was too distracted by Riordan to sense that she was back.
On the plus side, at least I know that the wormwood works. I left it in the kitchen so that I didn’t have to carry it out with me when I was taking a look at Riordan’s curse. It’s not working out here, but it’s good to know that I won’t have to worry about her popping up inside the bakery for now.
I glance behind me at Riordan and sigh. “Yes. She’s here, but she’s not happy.”
“You wouldn’t be, either, if your only hope of getting vengeance is too busy mooning over Mr. Metrosexual over here.”
Did I tell you that I really don’t like Olivia? When I first met her, she seemed nice enough, but as soon as she realized that she couldn’t manipulate me with her faux politeness and her ‘I’m such a devoted healer’ schtick, I got to see the real Olivia Frost.
Now I’m stuck with her.
Glossing over the way she insults Riordan—and choosing not to fill him in on her rude nickname for him—I pick up on the other part of what she said. “Vengeance?” I echo for Riordan’s sake. “I’m not helping you get vengeance, Olivia. I’m trying to give you closure so that you can cross over.”
Cross over and leave me alone.
The ghost twists her hazy features into an expression of innocence that I don’t buy for a second. “Did I say vengeance? Silly me. You’re right. I meant I was looking for… what did you call it? Closure.”
“Mm-hmm. Closure. Right.”
“She still wants vengeance, doesn’t she?” asks Riordan.
I nod. “Yeah. She does.”
“Of course I do, witchling!” explodes Olivia. Witchling? I’m thirty years old! “I was murdered! When all I wanted to do was see the coven flourish, I was struck down by one of those dogs. And where do I find you? With the one who’s supposed to be their king!”
Huh. So Olivia knows Riordan as more than just the chief deputy who investigated her first ‘death’...
“He’s the Beta of the Moonshadow Pack,” I correct her. “And the chief deputy who is helping me figure out who killed you.”
Olivia’s rage disappears as quickly as it came. “Oh. He is, is he? I’m sorry. I thought he was too busy undressing your rags with his eyes.”
I clutch my long, flowing skirt, digging my fingers into the folds of the fabric. “He was not.”
Riordan arches his eyebrows. “He? She must mean me. What wasn’t I doing?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Nothing,” I repeat, more for Olivia—and myself—than for Riordan. “Olivia. Is there a reason you wanted to talk to me? Besides reminding me that you’re dead and I’m looking for your killer?”
“Why, yes. Now that you mention it. I was wondering if you figured it out yet. It’s been almost forty-eighty hours. Surely you know who killed me by now.”
“I— what. How am I… no. No, I’m sorry, but no.”
“What did she say?”
That’s right. Riordan picked up on my reaction and knew we had company. Based on one side of the conversation, he’s gotten enough context clues to follow along, but he can’t see Olivia. He can’t talk to her. If I want him to know what’s going on, I have to tell him.
“She asked me if we know who killed her yet.”
Riordan follows the point of my stare so that he can address Olivia despite not being able to see her. “I’m good, but I’m not that good. I only got back to Moonburrow this morning. Give me a little time to review the case and I’m sure I’ll have a few leads to follow.”
“I didn’t ask him. I asked you.”
“We’re working together,” I tell Olivia.
She huffs. “Of course you are. Why am I not surprised? Okay. We got Watson and Holmes here.” The ghost waves one hand at me. “I’m sure you’re gonna be Watson, Penelope. But if this is what it takes for me to get my revenge—”
“Closure.”
“Sure. I guess I can wait a little longer for the Alpha’s brother to dig around and show off. At least someone cares about me.”
I don’t have the heart to tell Olivia that Riordan doesn’t care that she died. He just wants to make sure there aren’t any other murders in Moonburrow.
“She says you can solve her murder for her.”
“How kind of you, Olivia,” Riordan says wryly.
“You’re welcome.”
“She says you’re welcome,” I translate. Riordan’s face creases into a small smile. “What? She did.”
“I believe you, Pen. And this is all the more reason why I need you to work with me. I don’t know what she’s saying, but you do. Do you think I could ask her some questions and you can tell me her answers?”
I look at Olivia.
She lets out a put-upon sigh. “Very well.”
I nod.
“Who killed you?”
Olivia’s sigh becomes a bleating laugh. “This is the best we have? Doesn’t he think I would’ve told you that if I could? No. You’re supposed to figure that out. Not me.”
I try my best to keep my patience. “I’m sure Riordan didn’t expect you to give him a name. But he wasn’t there when we found your body. He doesn’t know what you told us. He’s just gathering information, Olivia. That’s all.”
She sniffs, a little mollified. “Then tell him it was a wolf.”
I do.
“A big one. With black fur.”
I repeat what she said.
Riordan’s lips go tight at the corners. “There aren’t that many alphas in Moonburrow with black fur. It might’ve been a delta… we have plenty of those… but if it was a big wolf… What about the eyes?”
“Gold. Just like yours.”
I swallow a nervous lump in my throat. “She says they look like yours.” And then, because sometimes I can be a real glutton for punishment, I say, “I’ve never seen you in your fur. What color is your wolf?”
“Black,” he says flatly. “So it was a shifted wolf. You saw him before he attacked?”
“It was dark. I didn’t notice that anyone was there until the first swipe of his paw. That’s what killed me. Everything that happened after… that was just the killer having fun.”
My heart stops. “That sounds like a feral.”
Riordan’s head whips my way. “Feral? How do you know about ferals?” A pointed look at a space a few inches away from where Olivia is hovering now. “What did she say?”
“I… something about how the wolf used his claws, then played with her body.”
He sucks in a breath. “That does sound like a feral. But unless Moonburrow went to hell since I’ve been gone, we don’t have any of those.”
Maybe not. But we do have a killer.
I can tell that it’s a struggle for Riordan to regain his composure after that.
He asks a few more questions about the attack, but when Olivia starts to get visibly frustrated, I try to signal to Riordan that it might be better to move on to a different line of questioning if he wants to get anything else out of her tonight.
To my surprise, he gets the hint.
To my even greater surprise, he asks Olivia, “Why did you try to frame Penelope for your death? Why her?”
I know why. It’s because I was an outsider, and because I pissed Olivia off by refusing to get the compact for her.
But why does Riordan care?
I don’t know, and the abrupt change of subject is enough to rile the witch’s ghost right up.
“What kind of question is that? I came here because I was murdered,” Olivia snaps. “Actually murdered. By a wolf. Does the chief deputy care about that?”
I hesitate, not sure if I want to repeat that to Riordan.
“What?” he asks.
Here goes nothing.
“She wants to know why you’re asking about her fake death rather than her real one.”
His expression doesn’t change. “Because I already know what she can tell me about her murder. I have Max’s notes for the rest. But I still don’t understand why she would turn against such a sweet witch like you, Pen.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Riordan, I—”
“You know what? I’m dead! I don’t have to put up with this. I’ll come back when he’s more interested in my murder than your feelings.” Olivia begins to fade out. When she’s half gone, her voice still calls out: “And I will be back because I’m not going anywhere until you solve this!”
“Olivia—”
Too late. She’s gone.
Riordan can’t see that, either, and he waits for me to tell him what she said.
Instead, I shrug my shoulders. “She left. Said she’ll be back, but I don’t think it’ll be tonight.”
Considering I plan on moving the cutting of wormwood to my room, it can’t be.
For a moment, Riordan watches the spot where Olivia was. I don’t have to ask to know that whatever passed between us before Olivia appeared is gone now. Maybe that’s for the best. I wanted to understand Riordan’s curse, and I do.
I also understand him a little better than I did before.
When he stays silent, I fist a handful of my skirt, swaying it absently as I purposely avoid meeting Riordan’s gaze. “So… what happens now?”
“She might think I don’t care, but that witch has no idea how motivated I am to solve her murder. And that starts on Friday.”
Okay. That has me daring to look over at him. “The day after tomorrow?”
He nods. “You know that I only just got back. I have a couple of things I need to take care of before we get to it. I’d like to go over Max’s notes with him and see where his head is at.
He’s the sheriff. My Alpha, too. Despite my blustering in there, he’s lead on this investigation.
He’ll let me handle Olivia Frost’s mauling because he knows this is personal to me.
It’s not a good idea to step on his toes, especially after…
” His voice trails off. When he finds it again, he abruptly asks, “What time can you be ready by?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. I did what you wanted. I let you fiddle around with my curse. Now it’s your turn to hold up your end of the bargain. You can help me during the investigation.”
“Chief Deputy Lobo—”
He arches a single eyebrow.
Right. “Riordan. I’m a seer. As you just witnessed, I can only pass along what Olivia said and I highly doubt she’s going to be any more helpful. I’d like to help you, I really would… but with your curse being a tough nut to crack, I don’t know how else to do that. I’m just a witch.”
“You’re not just a witch. You’re a sweet witch.
” He chuckles softly. “Anyone ever tell you that? Penelope, my sweet witch. So worried about my curse. I swear to the Luna, I’ll be better.
I’ll do my best not to accidentally order you to do anything, but I promise you that you’re the only one in Moonburrow who can be my partner on this case. ”
Just like he’s the only wolf in Moonburrow that I can trust isn’t the murderer…
Because I have no idea what to say to his comment, I stand there and mouth wordlessly at him.
“I mean it. Believe me if you can. Be wary of me if you can’t. I know I deserve it, but I don’t think I can do this without you.”
Of course not. I’m more convinced than ever that my locator spell screwed up to the point that Riordan has conflated his return to Moonburrow with being close to me. Kind of like I created a tie that, in the narrow part of this back alley, I almost swear I can feel stretching between us.
How can I say no? Right now, the most important thing is stopping the witch-killer from murdering again.
I also want to solve Olivia’s murder so that she’ll get some closure and peace (and, okay, maybe leave me alone).
If that means I have to partner up with Riordan Lobo to do that, that’s what I have to do.
“I’m an early riser,” I say at last. “I sometimes go down as Honey’s prepping for her day and make a cup of tea while keeping her company. So six? Seven? Let me know and I’ll be ready to go.”
Is that a sigh of relief? Or a slight smirk that he got his way without having to force me to agree? I’m not sure, but Riordan holds out his hand. I guess, since I already held his in mine, it’s okay to take it again.
I do, and he squeezes my fingers lightly. “I’m an early riser, too, but those we might be going to see probably will appreciate a later hour. I’ll be there around nine. Friday. Okay?”
Breathlessly, I nod. He returns the gesture and lets my hand slip out of his suddenly lax grip. “Goodnight, Pen.”
At least he gave up on the idea that he’s going to stay by my side…
“Um. Goodnight, Riordan. Enjoy your dinner.”
With one last searching look at me—probably making sure that he didn’t somehow put a command on me without him realizing it… or that I wasn’t yanking on his curse again—he lifts his hand in a goodbye gesture, then turns around.
I watch him go. I watch him stride down the alleyway, swallowing roughly as his powerful stride becomes an intoxicating stalking motion that sends my heart racing.
He has complete control over his body, moving like the predator that he is, and I’m helpless to do anything other than keep my eyes on him until he takes a turn and disappears out of sight.
Reaching behind me, I grope for the door handle. I remember belatedly that it’s an auto-lock. Roxy might be able to pick the lock if she were here, but not me. And I put my purse down on the counter after I let myself in earlier.
Where are my keys? In that purse.
Forgetting about Riordan for a moment, I turn and peer at the knob. Just in case, I give it a jiggle. Nope. It’s locked, and if Honey is on her way back to pack land, she would’ve locked the front door, too.
If Honey is gone… but what if she isn’t?
For a split second, I debate casting an unlock spell on the door. It’s considered unethical for a witch to do so—one of reasons that Olivia, as a healer, tried breaking into Roxy’s shop with human tools—but since I technically live here, it wouldn’t be a cheat.
No, but if my spell backfires on me, I might blow up the bakery. So, yeah… I’m not about to do that.
Thank the Goddess for pockets. I pull my phone out of the pocket in my skirt and hurriedly select one of my contacts, waiting hopefully for someone to—
“Hello?”
“Honey? It’s Penelope. Please tell me you guys didn’t leave yet…”