Chapter 6
“Dinner looks amazing, Kara,” Zane said as he stood next to my small kitchen table.
“Thanks.” I waved my hand in front of the two tapered candles and lit them using magic. “I hope you’re hungry.”
By sheer luck, I’d managed to not only bake the lava cake…
but I’d also managed to whip up two tuna cakes for Savage’s date.
Nyxie had arrived around four o’clock, and while the lava cake was baking, I’d fed them the tuna cakes outside on the makeshift table I’d laid out for them.
Once the tuna cakes were eaten, I’d surreptitiously given Savage the velvet pouch that contained Nyxie’s charm.
I was a little surprised when he didn’t give it to her straightaway.
Instead, I’d heard him say they should go for a stroll in the cemetery.
And that was the last I’d seen of them.
“I’m starving,” Zane said. “Breakfast was a long time ago.”
“Thank you again for the flowers.” I leaned down and smelled the bouquet he’d given me. Instead of traditional red roses, he’d bought me deep red calla lily clusters, purple orchids, and black roses. “I love how unique they are.”
“Something special for someone special.” He brushed his lips across mine. “Now and forever, Valkyrie.”
I smiled and brushed my fingertips over his hair. “Now and forever, Fallen Angel.”
“Your gift now or after dinner?”
I smiled and kissed him one last time. “After dinner. Let’s eat while it’s hot.”
He pulled out my chair and then poured a glass of red wine for each of us. We’d just picked up our forks when the night came crashing down around us.
Zane’s phone rang, and I groaned. “Who would be calling on Valentine’s Day?”
Zane withdrew his phone and grimaced. “It’s Sheriff Stiles. I’ll put it on speakerphone.” He slid his finger over the icon. “This is Zane.”
“Zane, it’s Sheriff Stiles. I hate to disturb you tonight, but I’m afraid we have a…
” His voice trailed off for a moment. “Sorry. I wanted to step away so no one could overhear. Looks like we might have a murder. I think there are signs of strangulation.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve called in Doc Treestone.”
My eyes met Zane’s, and I set down my fork and pushed away my wineglass.
“Give us the address,” Zane said. “Kara and I will be right there.” The sheriff rattled off the address, and Zane looked shocked. “Really? Well, the good news is we’ll be there in a few minutes.” He disconnected and sighed. “Sorry about the dinner, Kara.”
I snuffed the candles and whispered a spell that would keep the dinner warm for the next four hours. “It’ll keep. Are we flying or driving?”
“Driving.”
Five minutes later, Zane pulled to a stop behind a handful of law enforcement vehicles.
The circular drive curved around a trimmed island of winter shrubs and flowing fountain.
There was still a smattering of snow, which meant the sun was shaded from this area.
Small enchanted lights lined the circular drive, casting a soft golden glow upward onto the stone exterior.
The two-story house sat near the cliff, much like my cottage.
But instead of being small like my cottage, this stone house was much larger.
Not Zane’s mansion large, but still quite imposing.
Myriad windows lined the front of the house, and as I shut the Aston’s door, I could hear the roar of the water below.
“Pretty secluded area,” I said. “Houses spread apart, lots of trees.” I frowned. “My cottage is up the coastline from here, right?”
Zane nodded. “Yes. There’s a small cove up a ways, but your cottage isn’t far from here.”
“I think I’ve seen this house sometimes when Crystal and I fly.”
Manicured hedges framed the walkway leading to the oversized front door. Even in the fading light, I could tell they were meticulously maintained. Valentine yard signs also dotted the front yard. “Be Mine” and “Forever, Love” greeted me as I reached the entrance.
“These people are practically your neighbors,” I said.
“Yes.”
There was something in his voice that stopped me. “Who is it? You obviously know them.”
“Hunter and Mari Quinn,” Zane said as he stepped inside their house.
I frowned. “Mari Quinn? You mean the romance writer?”
“Yes.”
My heart lurched when I thought about the last time I’d seen her today. She’d been talking with her daughter on the phone. “Is Mari the one who was murdered?”
“I don’t know.”
I stepped inside the foyer and glanced around.
The flooring was slate with tans, browns, and greens reflecting off the massive chandelier that hung overhead.
The stone from the exterior continued inside, climbing two stories high along one far wall.
A sweeping wrought-iron staircase directly in front of us curved upward.
“It’s pretty,” I said. “Reminds me of the forest.”
Sheriff Stiles stood near the base of the staircase, hat tucked beneath his arm.
“Zane. Kara.” He sighed and shook his head. “Sorry to bring you two out tonight, but I’m sure PADA will want to take over. I have two men out questioning the neighbors. If they get anything, I’ll let you know.”
The front door opened behind us, and Doc Treestone stepped inside.
The medical examiner was an imposing polar bear shifter.
His long silver-and-black hair was pulled back from his face, accentuating his high cheekbones beneath his neatly trimmed beard.
He was so large, he filled the doorway without trying.
“Evening,” he said, stepping farther inside the foyer. “Cold out there.”
“I’ll say,” a voice muttered behind him.
As a descendant of an Amazonian tribe, Barbie Warren stood just over six feet tall.
She was lithe and athletic, and the way she moved reminded me of a fighter assessing every room she entered.
Her voice always sounded like she smoked a pack a day and gargled with rocks, even though I knew she didn’t.
Tonight, the tips of her spiky hair were colored pink and red.
A nod to Valentine’s Day, I assumed. She wore a tailored red pantsuit that accentuated her strong frame and carried a field kit in one hand.
“Nice hair,” I said.
The forensic scientist grinned. “Figured I’d lean into the theme. I was out with friends having dinner when the call came in.”
“And I’m sorry about that.” Sheriff Stiles cleared his throat. “I’ll take you to the kitchen. That’s where we found her.”
We followed him down a wide hallway that opened into a formal living room on the left.
A deputy sat stiffly in an armchair, notepad in hand.
Across from him, on a long cream-colored couch, sat a man who looked as if the ground had dropped out from beneath him.
His elbows rested on his knees, and even from my place in the hallway, I could see his fingers were laced together so tightly his knuckles were white.
He looked up as we passed, and our eyes met for half a second. Emotions crossed his face—fear and guilt. He quickly averted his gaze and stared down at the floor.
“Mari’s husband,” Sheriff Stiles said quietly as we moved farther down the hall.
I glanced at the family portraits lining both sides of the walls…pictures of numerous family vacations, a wedding photo, a little girl chasing a dog.
The hallway opened into an extremely large kitchen.
It was like two rooms had been combined into one seamless space.
A massive marble island dominated the center, large enough to prepare a meal for an army.
Pendant lights hung overhead, casting bright white light across the countertops.
Stainless steel appliances lined one wall, including double ovens, a commercial-grade refrigerator, and a gas range with six burners.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched along the back wall, revealing the ocean beyond. Even though it was almost dark outside, I could see the water clearly. The exterior enchanted lights illuminated the waves as they rolled in, crashing over the rocks.
A private wooden dock with two boat slips extended out into the water. It, too, was lit up. I turned from the windows and stared down at the body on the kitchen floor. Mari Quinn, her blonde hair fanning around her head, lay on the polished hardwood near the far end of the island.
The same blonde woman from the alley.
The same blonde woman from the grocery store.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Sheriff Stiles said. “I’ll be in the living room with the husband.”