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Wynona was positive that she did a terrible job of hiding the shock on her face. Her sister was not the person she had expected to see today. Truthfully, Wynona had no desire to see her sister any day. “Hello, Celia,” Wynona said as politely as possible. “What brings you here?”
Rascal was still growling low as he stepped to Wynona’s side. Even Daemon had taken up a defensive position. His eyes were hard and solid black, just waiting for someone to make a move.
Celia studied her nails. “A little birdie told me I might find you here.” Her sly glance toward Silvaria explained exactly who that tattletale was. “I didn’t realize you were trying to make friends with other witches.”
Wynona stuck her chin in the air just a little higher. “I’m here on official business,” she said calmly. “Please step out. We’re in the middle of an investigation.”
Celia put her hands on her hips. “I don’t think that’s what Mother and Father would like you to waste your talents on, dear sister.”
Wynona was really beginning to hate that word, but letting Celia know that her pushing was wearing on Wynona’s nerves would only make things worse. “I’ve told you before that nothing I’m doing has anything to do with Mother and Father. I’ve been living on my own for a while now and have my own life.”
Rascal stepped forward. “Ms. Le Doux is correct. This is a marked crime scene. Please leave or I’ll have you removed.”
Celia didn’t budge, nor did she appear to hear Rascal’s threat. “I’ve been curious,” she said, walking slowly to the side as if to circle the pool. “These powers...” Celia’s dark eyes darted to Mr. Monroe, then back to Wynona, dismissing him as unimportant. “I’d like to see what you’re capable of.”
“I’m not here to give you a show, Celia,” Wynona said, turning to follow her sister. Even with Daemon in the room, Wynona didn’t trust the other witch not to pull a fast one. “Again...please leave. I doubt Father would be happy seeing your name splayed across the papers because you were arrested for trespassing.”
Celia paused and splayed her hands to the side. “But I’m not. I was invited.” She nodded toward Silvaria, who was still smirking near the door. “By the owner of the home.”
“This home isn’t owned by anyone yet,” Rascal snarled. “Not until the will has been read.”
Celia finally acknowledged the officer. “Don’t threaten me, dog. My father will neuter you so fast it’ll make your head spin.”
It took Wynona a second to realize that the crackle of magic in the air wasn’t coming from her sister.
Easy, Wynona, Violet warned. I might hate her even more than you–after all, she did try to kill me–but zapping her into oblivion won’t help matters.
Wynona took in a deep breath, willing her magic to relax.
Besides, there are witnesses.
Wynona snorted, then coughed, trying to cover it up. Even Rascal had to clear his throat. “Celia,” Wynona said, forcing her voice to stay soft. “Why are you really here?”
Celia’s posture slowly softened. For just a split moment she had looked afraid when the strength of Wynona’s magic had filled the room, though after tossing her hair, Celia did her best to cover it up. “I told you. Mom and Dad sent me.”
“But why are you here?” Wynona pressed. “Why doesn’t Mom come herself? Or Dad, for that matter. Why are they sending you?” A burst of inspiration hit her and Wynona ran with her gut. “What do they have on you?”
Celia’s eyes flashed silver, the color of her magic, and sparks began to drip from her fingertips. In only seconds, the sparks died and Celia looked down in shock.
“That’s enough of that,” Daemon said, his tone just as dark as his eyes.
Celia hissed when she saw him. “Are you so afraid of me that you’ll pull my magic, but not my sister’s? Maybe she’s not as powerful as Mom thinks.”
“Your sister is in control of herself,” Daemon said slowly. “I trust her.”
The words did far more to boost Wynona’s confidence than she would have imagined. She knew that Daemon was simply saying that in order to put Celia in her place, but they were welcome nonetheless.
Celia snorted. “Right. I saw just how in control she is.” She turned back to Wynona. “My life is none of your business.” Stalking back around the pool, Celia headed toward the door. “Call me when you’re ready to come home. I won’t chase you down with sweet invitations anymore.”
Wynona waited until Celia and Silvaria were gone before letting out a long breath.
“Do you think she means it?” Rascal asked, a smirk on his lips. “Have we really gotten rid of her for good?”
Daemon huffed. “If only.” He turned to look at Wynona. “Though I have to wonder at what you were referring to. What could your parents possibly have over Celia? You obviously hit a nerve.”
Wynona shook her head, her mind spinning after the tense confrontation. “I have no idea,” she admitted. “I was throwing out a hunch.”
Rascal growled. “It worked, but despite her declaration, I think you’re right. She’ll be back. If only because your parents said so.”
Wynona stared at the door.
“Don’t you dare,” Rascal said, standing in front of her.
She opened her eyes wide. “What?”
His brows pulled down. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for her. She’s choosing her actions, whether they were her idea or not.”
Wynona sighed and patted his chest. “I understand that, but I also understand feeling like you have no choice. My parents aren’t good people. If they’re hanging someone over Celia’s head, she needs understanding, not a fight.”
Rascal pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Can we at least agree to wait for this heart to heart until there’s a little less danger in your life? I know I was involved in pulling you in to help, but the more we talk to people, the more I feel like this murder case is only going to get worse before it gets better.”
Wynona gave him a short kiss on the cheek. “Yes. Believe it or not, I’m not looking forward to it either. But she deserves a chance to be heard. I was given an opportunity she wasn’t. My parents didn’t care about me, which is the only reason I don’t live there under their thumb. She never had the option.”
Rascal nodded. “Thank you.”
Wynona responded in kind.
“You’re not what I expected.”
All three of them turned to see Marsh watching them from the pool. Wynona had forgotten the quiet merman was there. “Goodness,” she breathed. “Sorry, Mr. Monroe. I forgot you were there.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “The blue hair stands out, but silence goes a long way in helping hide a person.”
Wynona nodded.
“But that doesn’t change the fact that I thought you would be much more like your sister.” Gray eyes narrowed. “You’re not.”
“Thank you,” Wynona said easily. “I’ve made it a goal to be their exact opposites.”
“And you were really born without magic?”
Wynona shook her head. “Not technically, no. I was cursed in the womb. My powers were bound.”
“And now they’re not.” It was a statement, not a question, and Wynona had a feeling she would be responding to it a million times before things were settled.
“No.” She swallowed. “The person who cursed me passed away and the curse has slowly broken since then. It came apart fully a few weeks ago.”
“Huh.” Marsh looked at Rascal, who was still standing at Wynona’s side, before coming back to her. “You’re lucky you have such a good protector.”
“Thank you,” Wynona said again. She couldn’t help but start to wonder where he was going with this. She needed to study the space.
“Deputy Chief, I didn’t kill Ms. Roseburg,” Marsh said. “But I think I might know who did.”
Wynona jerked. “Excuse me?” Why in the world didn’t he say this earlier?
“And?” Rascal responded, his hands on his hips.
“I believe her ex-husband, Mr. Wayde Killoran, did it.”
Rascal’s eyes darted to Wynona, then back to the merman. “And what makes you say that? Do you have any evidence?”
Marsh shook his head. “No. No evidence. Just a couple of...odd circumstances.”
“I think you should come out of that pool and down to the station,” Daemon said, finally stepping into the conversation.
Marsh nodded. “I think you’re right.” That crooked smile crossed his handsome face again. “This isn’t the place for this little chat.”
“I’d like to look around before we leave,” Wynona whispered to Rascal.
He nodded. “Mr. Monroe can wait a few minutes. Take your time.”
Wynona squeezed his arm in thanks and began to move along the pool. “Where was the body found?” she asked.
“According to Zander, it was floating in the deep end,” Rascal provided. “When we got here, she was lying on a stretcher, already having been declared dead.”
Wynona pursed her lips. “Did anyone mention where she’d been laid out on the tile?”
Rascal shook his head. “No.” He tilted his head. “Does it matter?”
Wynona shrugged. “I don’t know. But I wanted to play it out in my mind.” She faced Mr. Monroe, who was putting away his tools. “What work did you do that day?”
Mr. Monroe looked over his shoulder. “Uh...I might not have been as...busy at work that day.”
Wynona turned away, trying to hide the heat in her face. Sheesh. She needed to be less sensitive to the world around her. “So...no tools or anything that might have been left out?”
“No. Not that I can think of.”
Wynona nodded, still not looking at the merman. Instead, she began to study the tile.
What are you looking for? Violet asked, scrambling down and walking slowly in the same area.
“I don’t know,” Wynona murmured, her focus on the floor. “Anything that might look out of place.” She stepped around a lounge chair and moved closer to the pool.
Violet’s nose twitched and she hesitated, one paw in the air.
“What is it?” Wynona asked, dropping to her knees.
There’s something here. Violet sniffed harder.
Rascal got close to the ground and sniffed as well. “Chemicals,” he offered. “Pool chemicals.” He leaned back on his haunches. “That’s nothing unusual. I’m sure Mr. Monroe uses chemicals almost every day.”
But not on the ground, Violet argued.
“How can you be sure it was on the ground?” Wynona asked. “Are you referring to a spill?”
Violet nodded. She darted around from side to side. It’s here. Whatever was spilled hasn’t been cleaned up yet.
“Mr. Monroe?” Wynona hollered.
“Yes?”
“When did you spill chemicals?” She heard footsteps coming their way and his shadow came over her head.
“I didn’t spill anything,” he snapped. “I’ve never spilled the chemicals, not even when I first started.”
Wynona frowned and turned to Rascal.
He stood and began to move around, looking at the space from multiple angles. Finally, he stopped. “There it is.”
Wynona followed and gasped. There was a thin, glossy shine on the tile, evidence that something had been poured or spilled and never cleaned up.
Rascal pointed. “See how it has a line toward the water?”
Wynona nodded. She had to tilt her head just right to see it, but once the light was just right, it couldn't be missed. “It looks like someone skidded.”
“Could Ms. Roseburg have fallen and hit her head?” Daemon asked. “Maybe it was an accident.”
“But then why heal her?” Wynona objected, shaking her head. “That makes no sense.”
Rascal pushed a hand through his hair.
“I’m telling you, I didn’t spill anything,” Marsh argued.
“Where do you keep the supplies?” Daemon asked.
Marsh sighed and pointed to a closet in the corner.
“And who all has a key?”
The merman deflated. “Only myself. Ms. Roseburg didn’t like to deal with the mundane things.”
Rascal stepped forward. “Officer Skymaw, take Mr. Monroe out to your car. I think maybe we need to speak to him about more than his suspicions about Mr. Killoran.” Grabbing his cell phone, Rascal punched in a number and began to bark at someone about getting a photographer and evidence kit at the pool.
Wynona watched Mr. Monroe being escorted out, then looked back at the ground.
What are you thinking? Violet asked, coming to rest at Wynona’s foot.
“You can’t tell?” Wynona teased.
Violet shrugged and scrubbed her face. I didn’t want to intrude.
Wynona ignored the obvious fib. She took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to think. A slip at the pool and a healing on the back of her head don’t make sense. If she wasn’t alone and there was an accident, why wouldn’t the person help her? If they wanted her dead, why bother to heal her at all?” Wynona rubbed her temple. “It all goes in a circle.”
Violet climbed her leg and settled on her shoulder. We need to get to the tea shop. Maybe it’ll make more sense later tonight.
Wynona glanced at her watch and gasped. “Rascal! I need to get to the shop.”
He nodded and held up a finger. Finishing his conversation, he walked to the door. “Come on. I’ll drop you off, then come back. Did you want to be involved with Mr. Monroe?”
Wynona nodded. “If it’s not too much to ask for you to wait. I might be able to leave things with Lusgu if they’re slow this afternoon.”
Rascal snorted. “Just shoot me a message.”
“Via cell phone or brain to brain?”
Rascal grinned. “Whatever works.”
Wynona climbed into the truck, Rascal’s hands on her waist to help. “How far can we be apart from each other and still have it work?”
“I guess we’ll have to test it out,” Rascal said. He smiled up at her. “I’ve never done this before either.”
“Right.” Wynona clasped her hands in her lap, heat infusing her cheeks. “Sorry.”
Rascal stepped up and rubbed a knuckle along her cheek. “Nothing to be sorry about. We’re figuring this out together, remember?”
Wynona nodded. “Thank you.”
“Always.”