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“Wynona Le Doux to see Mrs. Droxon,” Wynona said to Gerall, the Droxons’ butler. She wasn’t really very excited to be back at the Droxon manor, but she was hoping to use giving her condolences to Mrs. Droxon as an excuse to see if Kayne was home. So far he had managed to evade her at every turn. Her time was running out and if she didn’t catch a break in this case soon, it was going to be too late.
“The family is in mourning,” Gerall said crisply. “They aren’t taking callers.”
Wynona did her best to keep her smile in place. “I understand that, but I believe Mrs. Droxon will see me. Please announce me anyway.”
Gerall’s lip curled at the edge. His yellow eyes pinned Wynona in place. He was certainly willing to give her a dirty look, but apparently looking was all he could offer because with a sniff, he turned and disappeared behind the large door.
Wynona glanced at her watch. She had to be back at the shop in time to host an early dinner with Roderick and Prim. Now that Chef Droxon was dead, they needed to brainstorm all over again, since the game seemed to have changed...again.
“Mrs. Droxon will see you,” Gerall said in a low tone. Slowly, he stepped back, opening the door enough for her to enter.
Wynona put a hand on his forearm and his head snapped toward her. “I appreciate that you’re protective of Mrs. Droxon,” she said in a soft voice. “Thank you for taking care of her.”
Gerall hesitated before nodding his head. His stiff demeanor softened the tiniest bit as he led the way farther into the mansion.
Wynona was sincere in her praise. She felt bad for Mrs. Droxon, even if staying in an abusive relationship was her own choice. No woman should feel it necessary to condemn herself to such a life. While Wynona had had her grandmother, she was glad that Maeve had Gerall.
“Ms. Le Doux,” Gerall intoned, announcing Wynona at the door of the same room as before.
Wynona walked inside and gave Maeve a sad smile. “Just Wynona,” she reminded her new acquaintance.
Maeve nodded, her face pale and free from makeup. Her clothes were much subdued as well. Gone was the large historical dress and in its place were slim lounge pants that appeared to be made of silk. She was draped just as artfully across the fainting couch, however, and Wynona assumed Maeve didn’t know how to be anything but elegant.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Maeve.”
Maeve nodded again and dabbed at her eyes. “Thank you,” she said thickly. Her eyes went to the far corner of the room. “Have you met my son? Kayne?”
Wynona held back the squeal of excitement that wanted to break free, and the sigh of relief that wished to follow. Finally, she had caught the prodigal son. Turning slowly, she inclined her head. “Kayne. Good to meet you at last. I’m sorry it’s under such terrible circumstances.”
Prim had been right. The son definitely took after his mother, which was definitely to his credit. Tall and lean, his features would have suited a lord of old time England. Blond hair was cut neatly at his shoulders and his ears poked delicately through the silky strands. His eyes were as blue as the ocean and sharp as ice. Slowly, he returned her greeting, never taking his eyes from hers. “Ms. Le Doux. Mother told me you visited the other day.” He tilted his head. “Why exactly are you looking into all this? The first murder and now the second? What do you have to do with them?”
It took some effort, but Wynona held her ground. She clasped her hands in front of her waist to keep them from giving away her nerves. “Let’s just say I’m working with the police to put a killer behind bars.”
“No...let’s not,” Kayne said. He came out from the corner, his walk almost leonine in style. If he had chosen to wear a bow and arrow and said he was hunting for prey, Wynona wouldn’t have batted an eye. The fact that she was his intended target at the moment, however, made it harder to appreciate his fluidity. “Let’s try answering the question again.” He stopped only a few feet away, the hostility in him pulsing forth like a living entity. “Why are you here?”
“Dear,” Mrs. Droxon started.
Kayne held up his hand. “No, Mother. I don’t care that she’s related to our president. She’s in our house, at a time when only close friends and family should be. And unless I’m mistaken, she’s here to ask more questions, similar to what she did before.” Even as he spoke to his mother, Kayne kept his eyes on Wynona, like he was studying an insect under a microscope. “Please answer my question.”
Wynona calmed herself with a deep breath. What she wouldn’t give for a cup of chamomile right now. “Since the first murder happened in my tea shop, I have a personal stake in seeing the killer brought to justice,” she said honestly. “My grand opening is in just a couple of days and the police still have it marked off as a crime scene.” She held back an eye roll. “Not to mention, the chief has put me at the top of his suspect list.” Shrugging, Wynona walked as calmly as she could to the nearest couch, pretending Kayne’s presence didn’t bother her. “I’ve bet my entire future on this shop and if I can’t open, I’ll be in serious trouble.”
“With your family?” Kayne pressed.
Wynona shook her head. “No. My family would like nothing better than to see me fail.” She hoped that by showing she also had a difficult relationship with her relatives, she could appeal to the fact that Kayne held no true love for his father.
It worked.
Grinning in a way that Wynona was sure melted unsuspecting ladies into gooey puddles, Kayne walked around the chair he’d been standing by and draped himself into it. “So your shop is your rebellion? No intention of going into the family business?”
“I suppose you could call it that,” Wynona responded. “And definitely not.”
Kayne looked over his shoulder at his mother. “I can see why you like her.”
Maeve made an amused noise, then dabbed at her nose. “How can we help you, Wynona?”
Wynona smiled, but there was no joy in it. “I’m sorry to start this way, but first I need to know where you were when Chef Droxon was killed. Ms. Caseis mentioned you both came to see the chef during his lunch.”
Kayne’s eyes flared at the mention of the secretary, but his body stayed still.
Wynona made a mental note of the reaction. She would have to test it again and figure out exactly what emotion it was stemming from.
“Like you or not,” Kayne leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “you don’t have the right to ask us that.”
“You’re right,” Wynona said coolly. “But I’m asking anyway.”
Kayne grinned again and leaned back once more. “Mother dragged me to the office, trying to invite Father to lunch.” He raised a slim eyebrow. “You see, she had the notion stuck in her head that if she could get us talking again, Father would take me back into his will.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Did it work?” Wynona clarified.
“No,” Kayne snapped. He schooled his features from the short outburst. “But after that, we left.” He grinned. “And ate lunch together.” His hands splayed to the side. “He was quite alive when we left, so there was no way we could have killed him. Since he walked, or rather stormed us to the door, the entire office can attest that we left him completely intact.”
“And Ms. Caseis?”
“What about her?” Kayne’s features tightened.
“She saw you all leave as well?” Wynona said carefully, watching his every move.
“She did. I have no doubt she will corroborate our story.” Kayne looked away as if he’d suddenly lost interest in the conversation.
Wynona knew that was her cue to leave. Other questions could wait. She had some ideas churning in her head and needed to think on them. She arose from the sofa. “Thank you so much for your time, and again...I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Kayne snorted, but Maeve managed a wave goodbye as Wynona headed out of the salon and house. Jumping on her scooter, she pressed the gas pedal as fast as it would go. She wouldn’t have very much time to prepare for her friends coming over. It was a good thing Prim had offered to grab takeout. There would barely be enough time to put the tea on to steep before they arrived at the shop.
Half an hour later, Prim slowly shook her head. “I just...can’t believe he was killed.”
Wynona nodded, wiping her mouth with a napkin before grabbing her teacup. She took a sip of the soothing chamomile. It was exactly what she’d been craving ever since her run-in with Kayne Droxon. “I know. I was completely shocked.”
Roderick huffed and set down his sandwich. “So where does this put us in regards to the first murder? Do they suspect it’s the same person?”
A sarcastic snort broke free and Wynona had to stop herself from following it up with a sharp retort. “Yes,” she said. “In fact, Chief Ligurio is still convinced I’m his number one suspect.”
“What!” Prim sat up taller. “You were with us yesterday,” she argued. “You have witnesses.”
“And according to him, he’ll be calling to check up on those witnesses,” Wynona said with a sigh. She shook her head. “I don’t know what his problem is, but he’s completely convinced this is all my fault.”
Roderick reached over and patted her hand. “Don’t let it worry you. We all know you’re innocent. He can look all he wants, but he’s not going to be able to pin anything on you.”
Wynona gave him a grateful smile. He had been so supportive of her from the beginning. Even when it had come out that she didn’t have powers, his belief in her innocence had never faltered. It was extremely flattering and helpful. “Thanks,” she said. “It’s annoying, but I know it’ll turn out okay.” She frowned and looked down at her lunch. “The biggest problem I see, though, is if he’s got his gaze turned on me, then the real killer is probably going to go free.”
Prim huffed in annoyance. “Vampires are supposed to be good at details. I can’t believe that jerk doesn’t believe the evidence that’s right in front of his eyes.”
Wynona broke off a piece of bread and set it down next to Violet. The tiny creature squeaked and dug right in, not paying any attention to the solemn mood of the group.
“Cops,” Lusgu grunted as he walked past. “Werewolves. Nothing but trouble.”
Roderick smirked. “Can’t say he’s wrong.”
Wynona tsked her tongue. “They’re all doing the best they can and Rascal, uh...Deputy Chief Officer Strongclaw has been extremely helpful during the entire investigation.”
“So what exactly did you learn from your visit with Kayne and Mrs. Droxon?” Prim asked over her teacup rim.
“Enough to have me putting him at the top of my list,” Wynona said. “What throws me off, however, is the recipes.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “If he’s not interested in taking over the family business, then why bother taking the recipes? All he had to do was follow his dad around, learn the art and it would have all gone to him.”
Prim tapped her long, butter-yellow fingernail on the white tablecloth. “That’s true. What would he gain from killing his father that he couldn’t have if his father were alive?”
“His inheritance, of course,” Roderick said. “He had been cut out of the will.”
“Yes, but since the killer stole the recipe book, we have to assume that’s what they were after in the first place,” Wynona pointed out. “The man who was killed first, Joksac Skinflayer, tried to steal the book, remember? That’s more than likely how he ended up dead.”
“That would imply Chef Droxon killed him,” Roderick said. “But then, who would have killed Atherton?”
“Oooh.” Wynona rubbed at her temples. “Every time I think I’ve got some kind of breakthrough, the facts end up muddled again. I’m still missing something.”
Prim patted Wynona’s head. “Don’t worry,” she encouraged. “It’ll all get figured out soon, I’m sure.”
“Meanwhile, I’m still a suspect and my shop is under quarantine,” Wynona moaned, covering her face with her hands. She needed to snap out of it. This kind of behavior wasn’t going to fix anything, but it was hard to stay positive when she felt like she was constantly chasing her tail. She decided then and there that if she ever made a career change, it would not include becoming a police officer.
Long, cool fingers gently took one of her hands and brought it down so he could cradle it between his own. “Chin up, Wynona,” he said softly. His silver eyes should have looked cold, but somehow there was enough heat in them to warm her from the inside out. “Truth always wins,” he said. “You are a remarkable woman and you haven’t come this far only to come this far.” He tilted his chin down a little and gave her that dazzling smile she was growing fond of. “Your ability to see and take care of the people around you attracts even the most cynical creatures to your side.” He nodded toward Lusgu as he stomped by once more, the dustpan trailing in his wake.
Wynona had no idea how there was any dust left in the entire building, but the brownie obviously felt differently, since he never stopped cleaning. Ever. She gave Roderick a tremulous smile. “Thank you,” she said. “That’s very kind.”
“It’s the truth,” he pressed. “From the moment I saw you, I knew you were special.”
Her blush was starting to become a permanent accessory.
“I’ve seen you handle police accusations with aplomb and cranky suspects with elegance. You have a knack for seeing to the heart of a person, and no matter what day this shop opens, I have no doubt that every customer who enters these doors will leave feeling satisfied.” He made a point of looking around at her shop. “The fact that you create custom teas tells us that you have a keen eye for detail, and I’m sure that will extend to each patron. Whether it’s taking care of a patron with severe allergies or other unique issues, your care will keep them happy, but your kindness will have them coming back for more.”
Prim’s hand fluttered against her chest. “I do believe that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” she gushed.
Wynona’s blush flamed hotter than ever. “Thank you, Roderick,” she whispered. “That means a lot to me. I mean it.”
Roderick’s smile could melt butter. “Anytime.” He caressed her fingers, keeping eye contact until Wynona slowly pulled away, wanting yet not wanting to give the wrong impression.
She was thoroughly enjoying Roderick’s attention and apparent admiration, but once again, the case stopped her from pursuing anything more. She needed it gone. Then, and only then, could she entertain the idea of a social life. With the way Roderick was looking at her, she just hoped it didn’t take too long.