twenty-nine

Tuesday morning. The museum was closed for the day, and I stared vacantly at my aunt’s bookshelf of nautical instruments. I bounced my stockinged foot. How could I trap the killer without my prior irritate-them-until-they-try-to-kill-me approach? Seriously, there had to be a better way.

The logical person to call for advice was Jason. Maybe I should have called him last night. But I didn’t have proof, and he was still on medical leave.

I was not going to call his partner. Laurel would either laugh or threaten me with interfering in an investigation. And I certainly wasn’t going to poke the bear and try to get the murderer to confess. That sort of thing never ended well.

At loose ends, I bundled up in a Paranormal Museum hoodie and down vest and hurried down the steps to my pickup. It coughed, sputtered, died. I pumped the gas and turned the key again. The truck wheezed and fell silent.

Cursing, I lowered my head to the wheel. The lingering morning fog spiraled around my truck.

I called a tow truck and then an Uber driver, and arrived at the museum way past GD’s breakfast time. The cat looked up from a sunny patch on the glass counter and hissed.

“Sorry I’m late.” I unwound my scarf and draped it over the cash register.

He flicked his tail and growled, a ridge of black fur rising along his spine.

Hastily I fed him, then pulled my clipboard from beneath the counter and scanned the inventory list. My forehead wrinkled. The Christmas fairies were nearly sold out. But we were closing in on the big day. There was no time to order more.

Clipboard beneath my arm, I strolled into the Gallery and turned on the twinkle lights to cheer myself up. Delicate fairies spiraled from the ceiling, danced atop display cases, frolicked in drifts of fake snow. But there were empty spots that needed filling.

The front door opened and I froze, heart thumping. I was sure I’d locked the door.

“Maddie?” Jason called.

My heart beat faster. “In here.” I strolled into the main room.

Purring, GD rubbed against Jason’s leg, depositing black hairs on his jeans. The detective knelt and stroked the cat’s fur with his good arm. Then he rose, adjusting his sling. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Relief fizzed inside me. Jason was here. We could finally talk, and the first thing I wanted to talk about was my theory on the murder. But something in his expression stopped me. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”

There was a long, brittle silence. Two deep lines appeared between his gold-flecked eyes. “I guessed you would think something was wrong after the last time we met. I’m here to say I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“I know I was brusque the other night, about you and Mason.”

I raked my hand through my hair. “There is no me and Mason. There hasn’t been for months.”

“I know.”

“You do?” I asked, relieved.

“I was angry the other night, but not at you.”

“Oh.” I shrugged to hide my confusion.

“What?” he asked.

“If that was you angry, you hid it well.” And that seemed like a good thing. Between the museum, my mom, Herb the paranoid paranormal collector, and Ladies Aid, a drama-free relationship would be heaven.

“You can’t lose your temper when you’re a cop. But it leaked out the other night when I saw that hole in your wall.” He stepped closer. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, smell his musky scent. “You’ve thrown me off-balance, Maddie. After the divorce, I thought I was done with relationships, but …”

My breath caught.

He smiled, wry. “You’ve got the strangest look on your face. Should I go?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Please stay.” My face warmed. “Assuming being off-balance isn’t always a bad thing.”

“Not in this case,” he rumbled. Gently, he pulled me into the circle of his uninjured arm and kissed me.

I melted against his broad chest. My legs trembled, and I clutched his parka for balance.

We drew apart, breathless.

“At least I can kiss you now without any police ethics violations,” he said.

“Ethics are important,” I agreed, pulse pounding. And now was the time for me to tell him what I suspected.

But then he kissed me again, and I forgot all about newspaper articles and murderers.

GD gagged, expelling a hairball.

Pulling away, I glared at the cat. He’d timed that.

“Sorry.” I sighed. “I need to clean that up.” Because I couldn’t kiss Jason next to one of GD’s hairballs festering on the black-and-white floor.

Jason braced his good elbow on the counter and watched, grinning, while I cleaned up. “I’ve been doing more digging into that curse,” he said.

My feet as light as one of Adele’s cream puffs, I returned the broom to its black-painted cupboard. “I didn’t think there was much left to dig into. We talked to Jennifer Falls. I spoke to her husband—”

“You did?” Jason straightened off the counter, and his cop face dropped into place like a mask. “What did he say?”

I sat on my barstool behind the counter and rested my hand on the glass. “Byron Falls denied all knowledge of and interest in the curse. And I believed him. He seems a lot more practical than Jennifer’s first husband. People said her first husband was a sensible, driven guy, if a bit of a cheapskate. But only an idiot would put an electrical appliance on the bathtub ledge.”

“I talked to one of the cops who worked the bathtub scene.” Jason’s mouth drew into a straight line. “He’s retired now. He said he hadn’t liked writing it up as an accident. It looked too pat—his words. But there was no evidence of foul play.”

GD sank his fangs into my hand.

I yelped, springing from my seat. Scowling, I rubbed the two faint white marks. “What was that for?”

And then my mouth fell open. The jolt of pain had got my brain firing. “The hat pins.”

“What?”

“Jennifer Falls was here wearing one of her old-fashioned hats the day of the curse removal.” My words tumbled over each other. “There were hat pins in it. She could have used them to make those marks on the women who were attacked.”

GD growled.

“I always knew you didn’t do it,” I said to the cat, then looked up at Jason. “But if I’m right … I can’t be right. There must have been other ways those two women could have been bitten. Because why would Jennifer intentionally promote the curse?”

Jason’s eyes glittered. “What else did you hear about her first husband?”

“He was a miser. Jennifer liked to party and presumably spend the money. You don’t think …” My eyes widened. “Could she have killed him? Is that why she’s pushing the curse? To shift attention away from the real cause of his death?”

We stared at each other.

“I’m jumping to conclusions, right?” I asked.

“Right.” But he rubbed his jaw.

I laid my hand beside his on the counter. “Jason, nothing’s changed. She remarried the same type of guy. She still has a motive. What if she’s not talking up the curse just to cover for a decades-old murder?”

“She’s using it as cover for a new one.”

My head spun. Had Jason and I actually stumbled upon a murder in the making?

“I’ve gotta go.” He strode out the door, knocking into Leo and Cora Gale coming in. “Sorry.” He raced down the street.

“Good goddess.” Cora floated into the museum on a current of scarves. She smoothed her windblown gray hair. “Is everything all right?”

“What’s his hurry?” Leo set his motorcycle helmet on the counter. His black leather jacket was zipped to his chin.

I swore. Dammit, I hadn’t had a chance to tell Jason what I’d learned about the arrow murders. “He has a hot lead. What are you two doing here?”

“Christmas shopping for Leo’s cousins,” Cora said.

“You’ve got cousins?” I asked. I didn’t think Leo had any family left after the death of his parents, and I was glad he did.

“They’re in Eureka.” He shrugged. “They invited me for Christmas, but I’d rather stay here.”

“However, it’s an excellent excuse to reconnect with family,” Cora said. “And it’s only polite to arrive with host and hostess gifts. Especially for a holiday dinner. We saw the lights on and thought we’d stop by. What are you doing here on your day off ? And with the police detective …?” Her brows arched, coy.

“He saw the lights on in the window too, and with everything that’s been happening …” I turned to Leo. “Are you feeling better?” I was desperate to change the subject.

He sniffed. “Yeah. I can work tomorrow. Hey, I parked my bike in the alley—do you mind?”

“Of course not,” I said.

A pained look crossed Cora’s face at the mention of the motorcycle, and I shot her a sympathetic look. It unnerved me every time I saw Leo get on it.

“Leo,” she said, “perhaps one of those fairies would make a nice hostess gift?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Do you mind, Maddie?”

“I never say no to a sale.” Even if he did get an employee discount.

While they perused the Gallery, I locked the front door and unlocked the cash register. A few minutes later, they emerged with a delicate blue-and-white fairy.

“This one doesn’t suck,” Leo said.

Cora rolled her eyes. “He’s in a mood.”

Leo’s brows lowered. “I don’t want to drive to Eureka.”

“It is a long drive on a motorcycle,” I said innocently as I rang up the fairy. “Maybe he could use some company?”

“Company?” Cora asked. “Well, I suppose I … But I wasn’t invited.”

Leo brightened. “They said I could bring a guest.”

“Well.” She fussed with a filmy violet scarf. “My children aren’t coming to visit this year. They’re busy with their own families. So I could come. But I’m sure your cousins meant for your plus-one to be a younger friend or a girlfriend.”

“They said guest,” he said, gruff. “Besides, you’re family too.”

She blinked rapidly. “Oh. What a lovely idea. Then I’ll go with you to Eureka. And now I need a hostess gift too. I have to buy some wine.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a cabinet full of it.” I drew wrapping paper from beneath the register and spread it atop the counter.

“Good wine,” she amended.

The wall phone rang and I reached for it. “Paranormal Museum, this is Maddie speaking.”

“Madelyn, this is your mother,” she said, her voice strained.

Phone cradled to my ear, I packed the fairy in its box. “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

There was a long pause.

“Mom?” I waited. “Mom …?” Had her phone battery died?

“I have your mother.” The voice was mechanical, like one of those voice-scrambly things you hear on TV shows. The hair on the back of my neck lifted. “If you want to see her alive again, come to the corner of Walnut and McKay.”

The gears in my brain locked. “What?”

“Come alone. If I see any police, your mother dies. You have fifteen minutes.”

“But—”

The voice hung up.

I swayed, dizzy. “Keys.”

“Madelyn, you’re white as a sheet,” Cora said.

“Leo, I need the keys to your bike.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Kendra Breathnach’s kidnapped my mother.”