The hot shower helped.
I stood in my trailer’s tiny cubbyhole of a shower, watching the water turn gray as it washed away the ash from my hair and skin.
Did the ash really belong to someone departed? Perhaps some lover Madame Glitter had murdered in a jealous rage? Or a deceased loved one she’d promised to watch over? It could have been a dead pet, a shih tzu or—knowing Madame Glitter—a black mamba for all I knew. But whoever’s ashes I washed down the drain, I couldn’t help but feel a little melancholy and poetic.
Death, washed in soap and tears. Ashes, like the remnants of our love, drained away, past soil and roots, past the living. Sitting. Silent. Never to be touched by sunlight again. Never to return again.
Even with my souped-up RV water heater, the water bordered on freezing after thirty-five minutes, so I finally stepped out and huddled under a towel. I dressed quickly, hoping to make it to bed and fall asleep fast. I couldn’t be awake and left to my own demons any longer—I was growing poetic, for goodness’ sake.
Sleep wouldn’t come, of course. My worries kept me awake. Would I really have killed Kull? Sure, I hated the man—but would I really have gone through with it and killed him? A country would have lost a king. Heidel would have lost a brother. Ket would have lost her fiancé. He had a mother, other siblings, and nieces and nephews I knew he adored.
Why hadn’t my magic fried him? I’d been so angry he should have been a pile of cinders by the time I’d finished with him.
Obviously, I’d never meant to kill him. My magic knew I hadn’t really meant to kill him, no matter how angry I’d been. Once again, my magic seemed to be acting of its own accord.
As I drifted to sleep with Han Solo piled up and purring on my feet, the sound of knocking startled me, and I stared apprehensively at the door. The howling wind echoed the insistent knocking. My heart rate sped up. Who could it be at this hour?
I quietly crawled out of my bed and to the window, parting the slats just enough to see outside. A man stood on my doorstep, but his features were barely discernible under the distant street lamp.
He turned his head, giving me a better look at his profile, and I exhaled as I recognized Brent. I stood straight and opened the door. He gave me a hesitant smile.
“Hi, Olive. May I come in?”
“Right now?”
“Yes. It’s rather urgent.”
“Oh.”
He’d caught me off guard. I wasn’t sure what to say or how to react—I wore my flannel pajamas, and a sleep fog had muddled my brain.
“Fine, come in,” I muttered.
He entered my trailer, and I shut the door behind him, but he reached past me and secured the dead bolt. I eyed him, but he gave no explanation as he began pacing the room.
“Would you like a seat?” I said, pointing to the only sitting space available, which happened to be the foot of my bed.
He waved me off. “No, no.”
I took a seat on the edge of my bed, longing to crawl back under the covers, but Brent worried me. What was he doing here?
“I thought you’d be back in Houston,” I said.
He shook his head. “No. I had to come back—there was a… development in the case.”
“What sort of development?”
“Another murder.”
“What?” I sat up straight, my sleep fog disappearing.
“I got a call an hour ago and came right over. We found her dead in her tent. She was recently deceased. Probably only been dead a couple hours.” He stopped his pacing to look at me. “Olive,” he said, “it’s not good. It was the psychic, Madame Glitter. I spoke with a few witnesses. Were you in her tent recently?”
I swallowed my panic. How could this have happened? I’d seen her only a few hours ago. “Yes, I went there this afternoon.”
“And you had an argument with her?”
“Yes.”
He nervously ran his hands through his hair. “The big guy was there, too?”
I nodded. Great. Now I’d gotten Kull involved in this mess.
“You must realize how this looks. Witnesses say they saw him and you exit the tent. They said he was carrying a weapon. Is it true?”
I nodded.
He cursed under his breath. “There’s only so much I can do to protect you. You’re already a suspect as it is—you know how bad this looks, right?”
“I know. But Brent, please believe me when I tell you that I had nothing to do with her murder. She confessed she’d been buying Possess, first from Mr. Kaufman, and then from someone else. She was speaking to the dealer on the phone when I entered the tent, and she made plans to meet him tonight in her tent. It must have been him who killed her. We have to find who sold her the drugs.”
“We? Olive, don’t you understand? There’s no we anymore. Officer Gardener is on his way here now to arrest you.”
“Now?”
“Yes!”
“What can I do?”
“First—and listen to me very carefully—tell them nothing. You are under no obligation to say anything. Admit to nothing, and ask for a lawyer as soon as you get the chance. That should buy you some time, at least.”
My heart thudded in my chest. I’d never been arrested in my life. I wasn’t prepared for this. Worse, once they arrested me, I could be of no help finding the missing starstone—and the real murderer would continue to walk around, free to do as he pleased. This really wasn’t going how I wanted.
“Isn’t there anything else I can do?” I asked. “If I explained what happened… ”
“No! You’re not listening to me. Don’t try to explain anything right now. You’ll only make it worse.”
I rested my head in my hands. Was this what the killer had intended all along? Had he purposely been trying to frame me so I would go to jail? If so, for what reason? Why did he need me in jail? Why didn’t he just kill me if that’s what he wanted?
Nothing made sense, and now I felt hopeless to find any answers. If only I could contact someone to help me.
“What about Kull?” I asked. “What will they do with him?”
“Detain him for questioning, most likely.”
Great. I could just imagine someone trying to detain him. Like fighting an angry elephant with squirt guns. I hoped he would be smart and not fight, but with his vacillating temper, I couldn’t be sure what he would do. If he fought, it would only make us both look guilty.
“I can’t believe this is happening. We were so close to finding who was responsible. This ruins everything. Isn’t there any way to stall them?”
“I’ve done everything I can.”
Red and blue lights flashed outside the window. A moment later, someone pounded on the door. Before I answered, I turned to Brent, knowing I only had a few seconds of freedom left.
“Brent,” I said, “the killer wants me—for what reason, I’m not sure. I know you’ve never believed in Faythander, but if you don’t believe me, you’ll never be able to stop the murderer. Years ago, he stole a magical stone from the unicorns in Faythander. Now, he’s trying to do the same thing with the fairy stone, except this time, he got trapped in our world. He’s using it to create a portal back to a place called the undiscovered land.”
“Olive—”
“Brent, listen to me!” I cut him off as the pounding on the door started again. “He has to be stopped. The stone absorbs negative energy. That may be why he has been committing the murders—he needs dark energy to power the stone to create a portal. He may have also engineered Possess as another way of creating dark energy. You have to find the source. Find who is making the drug, and you’ll find the killer.
“Also, please take care of my cat while I’m gone. That’s it. I’m finished.”
I reached for the doorknob, but he grabbed my wrist and stopped me.
Brent leaned close, whispering, “It’s not true that I’ve never believed in Fairy World. I’m more aware of it than you think. Jail may be the safest place for you right now.”
I stared at him, confused, when he unbolted the door and it was flung open from the outside. Officer Gardener stomped into the trailer without being invited. I was pretty sure he was breaking protocol by doing such a thing, but I kept my mouth shut.
“Has Officer Sanchez informed you of the reason we’re here?”
“Yes,” I answered.
He nodded, then instructed me to put my hands behind my back, cuffed me, read me my rights, and led me outside and into the backseat of his car. Brent looked on helplessly as Officer Gardener sat in the driver’s seat and drove away.
My throat constricted as we left the fairgrounds. Not that I’d ever been safe in my trailer, but it had felt like a place where I could take refuge. Now, would I really be safer in jail as Brent had suggested?
Brent must have known more than what he was telling me. For him to admit his belief in Fairy World meant he must’ve seen something he couldn’t explain. But what?
Officer Gardener didn’t speak as he drove me to the county jail. The whir of the tires on the asphalt road was occasionally broken up by a beep and then the sound of a female dispatcher’s voice over the radio.
“You like music?” he finally asked me.
“Music?” I asked, confused.
“Sure.” He switched on the radio to a country and western station.
Ugh. This was going to be a very long night.
Fidgeting, I realized I still wore Princess Esmelda’s ring, so I whispered a quiet spell to hide it. Thankfully, my magic decided to work without a hitch. The ring disappeared, blending into my skin until it was no longer visible. It was a simple masking spell, but as long as my magic held, the ring would stay hidden.
“I’m glad you came willingly,” Officer Gardener said. “Sometimes folks like you want to talk their way out of getting arrested—almost thought you’d be one of them when you wouldn’t open your door.”
“I’m a law-abiding citizen, so it was in my best interest not to put up a fight. I have nothing to hide.”
“We’ll see,” he said.
We arrived at the county lockup. It was a small building that sat away from the road—one of those places you’d pass by without noticing. There were only a few streetlights that illuminated the building. Around us, the dark forest stood watch, hulking trees hiding the stars.
The officer led me outside his car and toward the front entrance. Cold air bit at my skin, and sharp gravel poked the bottom of my feet through my slippers. When we made it to the door, he punched a button and, following a loud buzz, shoved it open. His grip tightened around my arm as he led me to a small office, where he and a few other officers proceeded to take my fingerprints and issue me a set of standard jail clothes.
I supposed I should have been frightened that I was getting booked—and an arrest wouldn’t look good on my record for sure—but I had to keep from laughing as they finally finished up and locked me inside a cell.
Magic played on my senses, buzzing in my ears and throbbing through my fingers. If I wanted, I supposed I could have just blasted my way out of the place. I could’ve burned it to the ground if I’d wanted. But burning down a government building would look even worse on my record. If I wanted to get out of here, I’d have to play it smart.
I scanned my surroundings—the open, stainless steel toilet, a thin mattress atop a bedspring bolted to the wall, and a tiny sink. No windows, of course, only cinder-block walls. As I sat on the edge of the mattress, the desire to torch the place welled up inside me once again.
The bed in my trailer hadn’t been much to brag about, but at least I’d had my own sheets to lie on and my cat to keep me company. I forced myself not to breathe as I lay on the mattress, the acrid scents of sour sweat and urine embedded in the worn, scratchy fibers.
I stared at the ceiling, feeling as if the bloodthorn were mocking me. He was the puppet master, we were his puppets, and I didn’t know of any way to cut the strings tying me to him.
The thought nagged at me that perhaps Brent was wrong. Perhaps I wasn’t safe here at all; perhaps the bloodthorn had me precisely where he wanted me.
I drifted off until the sounds of an irate female voice woke me. Standing, I walked the short distance from my bed to the door and looked through the small, barred window. I was surprised to see both Kull and Heidel standing at the front desk with several officers surrounding them. Kull stood straight and unmoving, staring ahead as if the sound of his sister’s rant didn’t bother him.
Heidel yelled at a police officer, but her screaming was cut short when Officer Gardener entered the room and escorted them both to an office away from me.
Nervousness knotted my stomach. With Kull and Heidel both in custody, the bloodthorn had the advantage. Rolf and Brodnik would hopefully be able to guard the fairies as their search for the stone continued, but how long could that last?
I lay on my cot once again, feeling helpless. If my suspicions were correct, the bloodthorn would have used the energy from Madame Glitter’s death to charge the gemstone. Chances were he was even closer to returning to his own realm. I couldn’t let that happen. If it did, then it was only a matter of time before the fairies suffered the same fate as the unicorns.
I paced my cell as sleep escaped me, wondering if I shouldn’t just blast my way out and be done with it, when a quiet knock came at my door.
One of the security officers stood outside. Her keys jangled as she unlocked the door and then opened it. She stood a little shorter than me, and her dark blue uniform bulged at her hips and around her waistband. She didn’t meet my eyes as she spoke to me.
“You’re being transferred,” she said.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
I eyed her. “But it’s the middle of the night. Are detainees usually transferred at such an unusual hour?”
She shrugged. “It’s not typical, no. But they want you back at the fairgrounds. Didn’t tell me why, so don’t bother asking me questions. Put your hands behind your back and turn around.”
I did as she said, still puzzled at the odd change in protocol. Maybe Brent had convinced them I could help with the investigation. I’d given him some decent leads so far, and if Madame Glitter had been murdered in the same way as the other two men, then they may have wanted my help deciphering the cryptic message of the flowers that had most likely been left in her eyes. There was no way to know for sure except by going back and learning for myself what it was they wanted.
Officer Gardener waited for me. He escorted me to his patrol car, and I climbed inside. He didn’t speak as he drove me back to the festival grounds. A nervous feeling nagged at me. This whole situation seemed odd, but I didn’t know enough about law enforcement to decide if something was actually wrong or not. Maybe it was time I asked for that lawyer Brent had suggested.
We arrived back at the fairgrounds, but instead of parking in the designated area, we drove past the main gates, past the camping area, and onto a narrow gravel road that cut through the forest.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I’ve been instructed that you’re necessary to an ongoing investigation. Security at the festival requested your assistance. We’re going to the main security headquarters.” After a pause, he added. “Wherever it is.”
We drove in silence for several minutes. When the officer slowed the car, pulled into a farmhouse’s driveway, and then turned around, I was certain he was lost. I held my tongue, thinking that maybe being lost would work to my advantage.
He radioed in, got a confirmation of the address, and sped up. We turned onto another road, this one narrower and filled with potholes.
The road curved sharply to the left, and soon we pulled into a driveway covered in pine needles, as if it hadn’t been used for some time. At the end of the drive, the car’s headlights illuminated a cabin that overlooked a lake. Moonlight reflected off the rippling water. Officer Gardener pulled a radio off his collar and spoke quietly into it.
“Dispatch, this is Officer Gardener. I need a confirmation of correct location and address, over.”
Static filled the line for a moment, and then a female voice came through. “Ten-four, Officer Gardener. Address is 105 Greenbriar Drive.”
I focused on the cabin and found the numbers 105 tacked to the doorframe.
The officer radioed back, then shuffled through a few papers stacked on the passenger’s seat. “Surely this can’t be right,” he muttered to himself.
Something about that cabin sent shivers down my spine. Didn’t serial killers always flock to these sorts of places in movies?
A light rain began to fall, covering the car in a mist that pattered against the windows. Officer Gardener absentmindedly turned on the wipers.
After a few minutes of sitting in the rain, Officer Gardener grabbed his flashlight and stepped out of the car. “I’ll be right back,” he told me, then slammed the door shut behind him. I watched as he circled the cabin, the steady back-and-forth swishing of the windshield wipers the only sound breaking up the silence.
The darkness and rain-covered windows made it hard to see anything outside, but I focused on the flashlight’s beam as he circled the cabin and then knocked on the door.
When no one came to the door, he went inside. A hazy yellow glow appeared in the cabin’s window as he turned on a light. I watched but saw no signs of him for several minutes until he came back outside and walked to the car.
He wore a sour expression as he opened the door and grabbed my arm. After helping me out of the car, he led me toward the front porch as the rain fell in a slow drizzle.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
“Not a clue,” he answered. “Fifteen years in the armed forces taught me not to challenge my superiors, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why Officer Sanchez requested you be sent here.”
“Officer Sanchez requested it?”
He nodded.
“Is that like him to send potential suspects to some cabin in the middle of the woods?”
“To be honest, I don’t understand the man at all. You, for example, should have been detained after the first murder. Now this whole investigation is just laughable. He’s broken every procedural code in the book. In my opinion, Officer Sanchez ought to be fired.”
“Fired? Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”
“Not at all. And now I’m just supposed to leave you here until the investigation starts again. But why? None of this makes any sense.”
I had to agree with him. I was just as baffled as he was, and I didn’t know how to make sense of it, except that if Brent wanted me here, then maybe this would be my way out. In truth, escaping from this tiny matchstick cabin would be much easier than burning down an entire county lockup.
Maybe that’s exactly what Brent had intended.