Chapter 3 #2
He shook his head. “No idea.”
We turned the corner and came to a stop in front of a shop called The Flower Pot. It was a garden shop. My heart skipped a beat. Almost all the gardeners I had encountered had been nurturing and caring—which made dropping bad news on them even more difficult.
I looked around and saw a couple of police officers—Dark Fae—heading toward us. Wager waved at them.
“Hey, Erica,” he said.
“Wager,” the woman officer said, nodding. She had long blonde hair pulled back in a braid, and she looked muscled and fit beneath that uniform. Erica had long been Herne and Ember’s access to inside info from the Seattle police. She had done a good job of disguising the connection.
“What do we have?” I asked. I had met Erica a couple of times.
“Same as the others. We’ll take the lead, and then let you interview her. The mayor was very clear about the fact that we’re helping you investigate this, and not the other way around,” the male officer said. His nametag read varis.
“All right, let’s go in.” I swung in behind Erica and Varis, with Kipa and Wager behind me.
The shop was lit with a soft, ambient light, and gentle music played in the background.
The sounds of the Viaduct Market faded as the door closed behind us.
The shelves were filled with gardening gear, and in the back of the shop was a series of buckets, each labeled with the name of the bulbs they contained.
The smell of earth and loam filled the air.
“May I help you?” the woman behind the counter asked. She looked frazzled, with a wary concern filling her eyes. This had to be his wife.
Varis stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Are you Avis Statler, the wife of Linus Statler?”
She nodded. “Yes, I am. What’s wrong? Is this about Linus?” Her voice trembled. She folded her arms across her chest as though she knew what was coming.
“I’m afraid so,” Varis said. “I’m sorry to tell you that we found—”
“No…no…” Avis started to whimper.
“This morning we discovered your husband down on the dock, deceased,” Erica said, pushing in front of Varis. “I’m so sorry.”
Avis slowly began to crumble, and Kipa darted around the counter to grab a stepstool that was there. He helped guide her over to it, where she sat down.
Clutching her stomach, Avis said, “I knew something was wrong. He never stays out all night—he never does,” she added.
“I’m sorry, but we need to ask you some questions,” Erica said.
Avis nodded, staring at the floor. She was so tightly wound I was afraid she might have a stroke.
I motioned for Kipa to move, then slid in behind her and placed my hand on her left shoulder.
It was one of the best ways—magically—to help ground someone.
Avis didn’t seem to notice, but she didn’t shy away from me, either.
“Water,” I mouthed to Kipa, nodding at Avis. He turned and headed over toward a mini-fridge in the corner. He peeked inside, then returned with a bottle of water, opening it before handing it to the woman.
She took a sip, then put the lid back on and looked up at Erica. “How did he die? He was in such good health that I can’t imagine what happened.”
“We’re not sure, but…we suspect foul play.” Erica glanced over at Wager and gestured for him to take over. She, Varis, and Kipa backed up a couple of steps to give Avis breathing room.
“Can you tell us, was he home last night?” Wager asked.
Avis shook her head. “We had a fight,” she said, her voice shaking. “He said something about going over to his brother’s. We don’t fight often, and when we do, he usually hangs out there till we both calm down.”
“What time did he leave?” I asked.
“Around eight o’clock. When he wasn’t home by ten, I thought he was staying with John for the night, so I texted him that I was going to bed.
When I woke up, I expected him to just meet me here.
I got here, and he wasn’t around. I called his brother, but John said that Linus hadn’t been there at all.
I called the cops, and they said they’d send someone around when they could, and told me to call all of our friends.
I was doing that when you came in,” she added.
The Seattle PD had always been short-staffed, and that hadn’t changed in the time we’d been away.
“Do you know why Linus might have come down to the docks?” Wager asked.
“He probably came down to work on the inventory. We’re in the middle of checking our shelves, and more was done than when we left yesterday.
I don’t know why he would have gone out on the pier, though.
Maybe for a walk. He liked being around the water.
” She let out a cry and hung her head. “I should have called John last night.”
“You didn’t know,” Kipa said.
“No, I didn’t,” she said.
“Do you know if your husband had any enemies? Anyone with a grudge against him?” Wager asked. Given what had happened to the man, it seemed an odd question, but then again—we had to explore all aspects.
Avis hesitated, then shrugged. “Linus has an abrasive personality. I know that under the grouchy exterior he’s really a sweetheart, but most people find him a little hard to take at first. But he’s a good person,” she said. “He’s never really hurt anybody in his life—not without provocation.”
“Do you know of anybody with whom he’s recently tangled?”
Avis worried her lip. “Yeah, I do. He got into a scuffle with a selkie not long ago. It was early August—just a couple weeks ago. He was down by the docks, fishing, and his line accidentally got tangled with that of another man. They got into an argument, and Linus accidentally broke the guy’s fishing pole.
The selkie threatened to drag Linus underwater if he didn’t pay for it.
Linus insisted it was an accident, but the other guy was a lot bigger and stronger than my husband, and I finally convinced him to just pay for the pole.
It didn’t seem to calm the selkie down, but he took the money and left. ”
Selkie? They were Light Fae, bound to the water. I wasn’t sure what powers they had, but that might track with what we knew so far.
“Do you know his name? The selkie’s name?” I asked.
She nodded. “Linus had to App-Pay him. His name was Ian McMasterson.” She paused, then asked. “Where do I find my husband’s remains? Is he at the morgue?”
Not wanting to be the one to tell her that her husband was essentially a pile of jellyfish goo, I stepped away, thinking.
A selkie—a magical one—might have some sort of power to transform others, especially given that they were shifters themselves.
We’d want to pay a visit to Mr. McMasterson, to find out where he’d been last night, and what he’d been doing.