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“This is the potential murderer?” Wynona asked. She and Rascal were still inside the truck, but parked in the driveway of the house that belonged to Alavara. Next door, a goblin was cutting his hedges. His craggy face was slightly shorter than the bushes themselves, but every once in a while, he rose on tiptoe, his large feet stretching to let him see the top.
Wynona couldn’t see anything wrong with his cutting, but the scowl on his face and the way he kept thrusting his sheers out in front of him would suggest that his cutting left much to be desired.
“He does look a little...”
“Grumpy?” Wynona offered.
Shifty, Violet pressed.
Wynona sent her familiar a sharp look. “Shifty would suggest he breaks the law.”
Violet shrugged while Rascal chuckled.
Wynona reached over and socked his arm. “Be nice,” she scolded. “And he definitely doesn’t look like he killed someone.”
“He does look like the type of guy who will report you to the HOA if you put a foot out of line, though,” Rascal said.
Wynona wanted to argue, but it was true. The goblin’s home was pristine. In fact, it looked like he even kept his garbage can scrubbed and buffed. There was nothing wrong with that, but usually creatures like that had a problem with others who didn’t. “Let’s just give him the benefit of the doubt,” she said, grabbing the door handle. She jumped to the ground and smoothed out her skirt and shirt. “Hello!” she called, waving to the neighbor.
Black eyes narrowed even further at her before ducking down behind the hedge.
Rascal hid his laugh behind a cough while Violet grumbled.
“You two are no help,” Wynona murmured, knowing Rascal’s wolf hearing picked it up. Sticking her chin in the air, she walked over. “Hello, Mr...?” She waited for him to supply his name.
“Who wants to know?” the goblin demanded, putting his hands on his hips in a defiant fashion. His eyes darted to Rascal, widened and then came back to Wynona. “You two cops?” His eyes moved over her skirt and shirt.
“Let me introduce Deputy Chief Strongclaw,” Wynona said, waving a hand at Rascal, who had finally composed himself and was standing tall and looking like the authority he was. “My name is Wynona Le Doux. I’m a consultant for the Hex Haven precinct, currently working on the case of Alavara Theramin.”
The goblin snorted. “Le Doux. Right. Like the presidential family would be working for the police.” He smirked at her, but when Wynona and Rascal’s faces didn’t change, the goblin’s face slowly blanched. “You’re really the president’s daughter?”
Wynona nodded, trying to keep a pleasant look on her face. She hated that her family elicited such fear.
The goblin swallowed hard, then must have decided he wasn’t going to give into his fear and straightened his thin shoulders. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s about time someone took some interest in all the broken laws of this neighborhood.”
Wynona glanced at Rascal. “Broken laws?” she asked. “What laws are you referring to?”
A skeletal finger pointed toward Alavara’s house. “The garbage can for that house hasn’t been cleaned in months.”
Wynona frowned. “Ms. Theramin is gone,” she said carefully. Did her neighbor not realize this? It was all over the news. Unless he spent his spare time with his head buried in the sand, there was no way for him to miss what had happened.
The goblin sniffed. “All the more reason to make sure the next occupant follows the rules.”
“There’s no city law stating anything about cleaning garbage cans,” Rascal said in a gruff voice.
“Our HOA requires it,” the goblin argued. “That woman knew that.” Once again he jammed his finger toward the house. “She was forever breaking the rules.”
“Rules and laws are two very different things,” Rascal said bluntly. “The police don’t get involved in HOA disputes.”
The goblin grumbled.
“You still haven’t told us your name,” Wynona said gently. This neighbor seemed to be a ticking time bomb. And he didn’t seem the least bit upset that his neighbor had recently been murdered. Was that because he’d been involved or because he was just that cold?
The goblin scowled, but glanced up when Rascal growled lightly. “Vrebs,” the small creature finally spat.
“Thank you,” Wynona said politely. This conversation reminded her of talking with her sister. Cecilia was difficult to get along with as well. “Mr. Vrebs, we heard that you and Ms. Theramin weren’t on the best of terms. Could you please tell us what you fought about?”
He shrugged and folded his arms over his chest. “I told you, already. She broke the rules.”
“Can you tell me exactly what ones she broke? Besides not cleaning her garbage can?” Wynona pressed. It was like pulling teeth with this one. And very sharp teeth at that. Ones that were currently being flashed in her direction.
“She didn’t trim her hedges properly. She never swept her driveway.” He sighed and threw his arms in the air. “Is any of this actually necessary? Alavara is gone. We’ll do a better job interviewing the next occupant. End of story.”
Rascal leaned over the hedge, getting in Vrebs’ face. “Not if you had something to do with the reason the house needs a new occupant,” he said in a low tone.
Vreb’s swallowed audibly and backed up a couple of steps. “You think I killed her?” He shook his head adamantly. “Why would I do that?”
“Why would you leave notes all over her house?” Wynona asked. The flutters of paper attached to the front door hadn’t escaped her notice, but she was banking on a guess that they were the work of Mr. Grumpy Pants.
Fear turned to anger. “Someone had to let her know,” Vrebs growled. “The HOA was too lenient on her. I’m part of the board and took it upon myself to let her know what needed to be changed.” He stuck his long nose in the air. “There’s no law against that.”
Wynona nodded and gently tapped Rascal’s back, who was still glaring hard at the small creature. Violet, thankfully, had been rather quiet. Wynona could only handle so much antagonism at one time. “You’re right,” Wynona agreed. “There’s no law against that, but your little feud could easily be seen as a reason for you to harm her.”
The goblin snorted, but the quivering in his hands gave away his true feelings. “I didn’t hurt her.”
“Where were you the night she was killed?” Rascal asked.
“Here. At home.” The goblin’s scowl deepened. “And before you ask, yes, I was alone.”
I wonder why, Violet drawled.
Aaaaand, there was the snarky comeback Wynona had been expecting during the conversation. Be nice, she sent back, making Violet huff in annoyance. “Did you hear or see anything unusual in the days leading up to her murder?” Wynona asked. In order for the neighbor to be so aware of Alavara’s faults, he had to be watching her closely. She really didn’t think the tiny goblin had hurt anyone, but he could possibly annoy a body to death.
The goblin shrugged. “There was always someone coming and going,” he grumbled. “She was dating an officer.” Black eyes darted up to Rascal’s before coming back to Wynona. “And a woman, don’t know her name. But she visited often.”
“How often?” Wynona asked. She tilted her head. “And do you know the woman’s name?”
The goblin shook his head. “No. No name, though I assume the women had business together. They didn’t always seem to get along, so I’m assuming it wasn’t a bosom buddy situation.” He smiled, his sharp teeth making it menacing instead of reassuring.
“Would you recognize her if you saw her again?” Wynona asked. What woman would Alavara be associating with? It couldn’t be a family member. Records showed the elf didn’t have any. Not a business associate. The tea shop had been under her name only. And Alavara hadn’t lived in Hex Haven long enough for there to be any kind of deep relationship, had she?
The goblin scratched his head, shifting the three hairs that lay across it. “Yes, but why bother? She didn’t fix the hedges. All they did was talk or shout.”
“Did you hear what they were shouting about?” Rascal hurried to ask.
Vrebs shook his head, his scowl firmly in place. “I’m not a busybody. I don’t know everyone else’s business.” He backed up. “I’ve told you all I know.” Turning, he muttered under his breath. “Treat me like a gossiping old hag. How would I have all their answers? Can I help it if creatures don’t know how to polish garbage cans properly? Nooo...but suddenly that makes me the neighborhood tattletale.”
Wynona stood stockstill, listening to the complaints with her eyebrows raised. Slowly, she turned to Rascal, who was turning pink in his attempt to hide his laughter.
His golden eyes turned her way, filled with mirth.
“I’m not quite sure what that was,” Wynona said, wincing as the goblin slammed his door.
Rascal raised a single eyebrow. “He better be careful. I’ll bet the sound was above the acceptable audible limit for this place.” He waved his phone in the air. “Chief says we’re good to go with the warrant.”
Wynona frowned and punched his upper arm. Ow... Sometimes his shifter strength was not to her advantage. “Come on. Stop making fun of a lonely, old creature and go inside the house.”
Stopping at the door, Wynona read over all the notes that had been left for Alavara, who would never read them. Her heart sank. No, she hadn’t particularly liked the elf, but Wynona wouldn’t wish this kind of end on anyone. Determination to find the killer and get back to her own life surged and Wynona straightened her shoulders. “Can we get inside?” she asked.
Rascal nodded. “Yeah. But I’ll have to call for the key.” He pulled his cell out of his back pocket, grinning as Violet nuzzled his jawline. Punching a few keys, he put the phone away. “Skymaw’s on his way with the key. It’s faster to have him bring it than go back and get it, then return.”
Wynona nodded. “‘Kay.” She looked around and eventually walked to the porch steps. Apparently, Alavara hadn’t had the time, or maybe the money, to put any furniture on the porch. The paint job was well taken care of, but the spot was simply...empty.
Rascal moved around behind her. “The inside is much the same,” he murmured, peeking through the windows. After a minute he came and sat down.
“What do you mean?” Wynona let her shoulder lean into him. She loved how warm and strong the wolf shifter was, even if it did mean her knuckles were still sore from punching him.
“Very little furniture,” Rascal said, scratching behind his ear. His arm then moved to wrap around Wynona, tugging her in under his arm. “A couple of chairs, a table...just the essentials. It almost looks as if she didn’t plan to be here very long.”
“Huh.” Wynona pursed her lips as she lost herself in thought. It made no sense. Alavara had built a business. She was dating a police officer. Those weren’t the actions of someone who planned to move on soon. A thick, warm finger gently tapped her forehead.
“What’s going on in that brilliant brain of yours?” Rascal asked before kissing the top of her head.
Wynona wanted to sigh in contentment at the show of affection, but she held herself in check. Mr. Peeping Tom was more than likely watching them this very minute. She wasn’t the type to put on a show for all and sundry. “Just trying to put the clues together,” Wynona answered honestly. She looked around. “This isn’t the cheapest of neighborhoods,” she mused.
“Nope. Upper middle class,” Rascal agreed.
“Right. So if she couldn’t afford furniture, why would she buy such a nice house?”
Maybe the outside mattered more than the inside, Violet offered.
Wynona ticked her head back and forth. “Possible, but unlikely. Women tend to nurture their spaces. They want to feel good in them.” She twisted to look over her shoulder. “If Alavara was planning on staying, she would have created a space conducive to that.” Wynona turned back around to look at Rascal. “But if she wasn’t planning to stay, why build a business from the ground up? Or start a relationship with Officer Montego?”
“All good questions,” Rascal said with a slow nod. “And none of which I have the answer to.”
“And you said there wasn’t much in the way of paperwork at the office?” Wynona asked, already knowing the answer, but wishing it were different.
Rascal shook his head. “We didn’t tear down the walls or anything, but nothing came up with a regular sweep through.”
She sighed. “And then we have that knife.”
And don’t forget the missing button.
Wynona nodded to Violet. “Right. Plus the button.” She scrunched her nose. “But what does it all mean? Officer Montego was brokenhearted and as a shifter, he definitely wouldn’t need a knife, nor would he leave one lying around as evidence if he’d been involved.”
“I would hope not.” Rascal snorted. “No officer would be that stupid.”
“Exactly,” Wynona responded. She paused. “Unless we were supposed to find the knife?”
But why? Violet asked as she scrubbed her face. What would be the purpose of providing us with the murder weapon?
Wynona shook her head again. “I’m not sure. There were no prints, so it’s not like they were trying to frame anyone and the coroner confirmed the knife was the actual weapon. No magic or spell. Just a good old fashioned stabbing.”
“Something you rarely see unless you’re dealing with non magical creatures,” Rascal muttered.
Wynona stiffened. “You don’t think...” She chewed her lip.
“What?”
“You don’t think they were trying to frame me?” Wynona asked softly. “Do you?”
“What? Why?” Rascal demanded, a growly undercurrent coming through.
Wynona shrugged and held out her hands. “I’m not sure, but there are very few creatures that have absolutely no magic and none of them have any bearing on this case that we know of.” She took a deep breath. “But as far as the world knows, I have no magic. Maybe I wasn’t a possible victim, but a possible suspect.”
Rascal pushed a hand through his hair. “Well, no matter the angle, we know you didn’t do it.”
“But Chief Ligurio had to ask, didn’t he?” Wynona whispered.
Rascal sighed and tugged her into his chest. “Doesn’t matter. The chief knows you’re innocent. We all do. And now you’re helping catch the real killer. If throwing suspicion to you was their intent, they’ll end up regretting it.”