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The next morning found me doing my own version of research. In the quiet hour before the shop opened, I sat at my workbench with my journals scattered and open.
I’d tacked Paracelsus’s letter to the low cork board that ran under the window to the shop—a very handy place for recipes, reminders, and in this case, reference material. Paracelsus had included a drawing of the plant he wanted me to look for. At first glance it looked like a little wildflower, perhaps six inches tall on a slender stem. But the fern-like leaves and unusual heart-shaped petals made it distinctive. Neither Rhys nor I could remember seeing something like that on the mountain—and I made a point of foraging all the ingredients I could. During my years in Belville, I’d been pretty good about keeping journals of the plants I found on the mountain, so theoretically if I had come across the plant and forgotten it, I should still be able to find it in my records . .. .
Theoretically. But now as I was going through my journals, it was clear how my organizational skills had failed me. My journals were a bit haphazard, filled out randomly when I had the time, or only containing the briefest notes from moments when I hadn’t had time. Notes on minerals were mixed in with notes on plants. Even the details I recorded varied from entry to entry. Clearly, no matter how well-maintained my lab might be, I did not quite have my act together.
I was starting to understand why Paracelsus had chosen to send me new journals along with this project. My former mentor had probably foreseen this frustration with myself!
Before I tackled reorganizing my writings, though, I wanted to make sure I addressed Paracelsus’s question. And so far, I had found no drawings or pressed flowers in my journals that matched this mysterious plant.
As I continued flipping through the pages, William sauntered down from upstairs. He clambered up onto his stool and flopped his chin onto the windowsill overlooking my lab table before he spoke. “Looking for more murder victims?”
“Looking for a flower,” I retorted. “You’re just jealous Officer Thorn doesn’t drag you along more often.”
“I see plenty of Officer Thorn.” William yawned. “I’d rather be here in the shop than out getting muddy, anyway.”
“I guess mud is a little easier to shed when you have boots instead of furry feet.” I decided to take a break, stretching out my shoulders and smiling at him. “You said there was some good business yesterday?”
“Lots of orders picked up,” he confirmed. “Apparently a big storm is supposed to roll in today or tomorrow.”
I sighed. “Just what we need. I wonder if it’ll clear up for Samhain.”
Much as I might complain about town events, I did love them. It made me sad to think that the holiday this year might be rained out—especially when several people in town, Lavender and Luca included, could use a bit of fun.
But apparently William wasn’t worried about the fair. “So,” he said. “What does Officer Thorn know about the victim so far? And whatever happened with the stranger who collapsed in the Square?”
“You probably know more than I do.” I eyed him warily. “Are you just asking so you have something to gossip with Dusty about later?”
“What, I can’t be concerned about town affairs?” he asked innocently.
At that moment, as though he had conjured her, Officer Thorn’s knock sounded at the back door.
I got up to let her in and was met with an enormous basket covered in a tea towel.
“Maggie’s taken up baking,” said Officer Thorn’s voice. She couldn’t be seen behind the pile underneath the towel, which smelled like sugar and yeast.
“For an entire carnival?” William asked.
With some difficulty, Thorn maneuvered herself through the doorway and turned so that she could see us, smiling fondly as she said, “She misread the recipe and thought ‘spoons’ were ‘cups,’ or something. I told her, the more the muffinier.”
I grinned despite the awful joke. “Well, next time you could tell her to ask me if she wants any tips. I’m no Glacial, but I do pretty well in the kitchen.”
“She actually gets along with Glacial too, believe it or not.” Officer Thorn sounded just slightly worried: Glacial, the baker for the Pomegranate Café, had long been rumored to be an ex-mercenary. She certainly wasn’t outgoing, but she did make a very good cupcake. “Are you going to let me into the shop so I can put these down?”
Pleased that she had remembered not to encourage eating in my lab—or perhaps she had seen my pile of journals and decided there was no room left—I hastened to open the next door for her. She and William immediately congregated around the sales counter. I followed her into the shop and made for the tea kettle in the corner, turning on the magic burner underneath.
When I turned around, a small mountain of muffins had taken over the counter. Above it, Officer Thorn grinned widely. “This is to say sorry for getting you mixed up with a surprise body yesterday.”
“Did Maggie put you up to that, too?” I smiled as I joined them. “It’s alright. You had no more idea than I did what we might find.”
“So both your tips have turned out to be truer than you thought?” William prompted, his tail wagging—whether about the chance to ask Thorn for info directly, or the muffins, it was hard to tell.
Officer Thorn flipped hair damp from the misty morning over her shoulder. “The notes were too vague to tell. One was two hundred years too late, if it’s about Purslane or Jack, and the other wasn’t very urgent for something referring to murder.”
“Now you sound like me,” I teased as I sorted through the muffins. There were pumpkin nut muffins, cinnamon ones, and something that looked like it might be dried raspberry and chocolate. I set one of those aside, knowing Luca would be intrigued.
“You do come in handy,” Thorn said. “In fact . . .”
She pulled a glass vial out of one of her uniform’s many pockets. I set down my pumpkin muffin and examined the soft yellowish glow coming from it. “Some kind of residue you want tested?”
“I don’t know what you would call it, but I do want it tested,” Thorn agreed. “Found it on our victim’s boots.”
While that was hardly appealing, I was curious about what the substance might be. It didn’t look like any potion I recognized, and it was too delicate—not to mention too glowy—for mud. I held it up for William to see. “Magic?”
Blue sparkles flared in his eyes as he looked at it, but then he shrugged. “Probably, yes, but not the spellwork kind. Something more natural.”
“Natural, hm?” I examined it again, considering my options for testing.
“And speaking of natural,” Officer Thorn cut in, half a muffin in her hand, “I’m headed to the grocer’s market next. Who of you wants to come?”
“What about Olivia?” William protested.
“Watching Jack,” she explained. And before we could ask, she added, “He’s recovering just fine, but he still won’t talk. Trent said soon it’ll be time to let him go.”
“Are you planning to let him go?” William asked. I tensed, remembering Thorn’s fight with Trent the day before.
“He’s a flight risk,” the officer replied firmly. “And a person of interest. As soon as he’s healed, I want to take him up to the Lost River Outlook and find out if that’s where he came from. If it is, then he’s a suspect—although I’m still thinking the death occurred after he showed up in town.”
I agreed with Thorn that at least it seemed likely Jack had come from the hidden apartment. Where else could he have been so secluded? But the idea of waiting for confirmation in a case which so far was mostly hearsay made me itchy. “You could try giving him paints,” I said slowly. “See if he makes pictures like the ones in the tower.”
Officer Thorn tilted her head. “Tricky. I like it.”
“It’s not that I’m trying to be underhanded,” I blushed. “It’s just, that would also help prove which room was his, which—”
“Which implies that the other room was the victim’s, and based on the contents of the room, that our victim was a sorcerer,” Thorn finished.
William’s ears perked up. “The sorcerer? Lavender’s story is true?”
“I don’t doubt Lavender, I would just hesitate to jump to conclusions when neither of the people involved is actually talking,” I said.
“Sounds to me like you’re the one who should come along for questioning merchants,” Officer Thorn said, smirking at me. “Plus you can come along to the tavern and see if you spot the housekeeper from the other day.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I do run a shop, you know.” It was a longstanding joke between us. Turning to William, I asked, “Is that okay?”
“I would rather be here,” he said reluctantly. “But I expect a full report when you get back.”
* * *
While Officer Thorn and William chowed down on muffins and tea, I slipped back into my lab to set up some tests on the mysterious glowing material. I put some of it in my distillation setup, a system of glass tubes and bulbs over a small burner, which would break the sample down into its component parts. On a whim, I also put some of the unknown substance into a clean terrarium and set it under a grow light just to see what might happen. William had said he thought it was natural, after all.
With that done, I traded my lab coat for a thick woolen cloak and pulled on my boots. After promising to check back in at lunch time, I let Thorn lead the way out the front door.
She showed me the coin in her hand as she walked. “I didn’t make it to the grocer’s last night. But that’s for the best,” she said. “It’s a morning market anyway, and better practice to interview bystanders with a clear head.”
“I’m not a trainee,” I reminded her wryly. She’d lapsed into the teaching voice she sometimes used with Olivia. “But for the record, I do agree. You probably wouldn’t have found anyone around last night.”
“We might find too many people today,” Thorn observed. As we crossed Market Square, we had ample opportunity to notice people in the park and on the streets. The café and the bakery were busy, as was to be expected, but so were many of the little stores that lined the Square.
“William said another big storm is coming, so everyone’s probably trying to prepare,” I said.
“Not a bad idea. But still, I don’t want this getting around too much. We’ve already got more rumors than we know what to do with.” Officer Thorn pocketed the coin with a quick glance around.
I glanced, too, though only the old oak trees and fallen leaves were nearby. The morning fog was lifting, but the sky was still heavy and gray. I turned back to Thorn. “So, you’re saying be discreet?”
“You I don’t have to worry about as much as that dog,” she replied cheerfully.
“I wonder why.” I chuckled to myself. As a magical creature with no small ego of his own, William hated it when anyone called him just a dog. “If he’d come along, he would probably be giving you a hard time about not having the Square decorated yet.”
“I’ll get to it,” said Officer Thorn with confidence. “We could even get in some work this afternoon. Once we get identification on the victim, I have to wait for the Guild to contact any remaining family for instructions anyway.”
I was familiar with the Police Guild policy on contacting first of kin before conducting autopsies or invasive magics, but I still thought Officer Thorn was being far too optimistic about her timing. I shook my head. “Between experiments and interviews, my day is all booked up.”
“Just you wait,” Thorn said. “If my hunch is right, you may find that’s actually true.”