That Olde White Magick. Sharon Pape
to bring the local emergency squad. I had to find out why.
Merlin and I broke through the ring of onlookers and found ourselves directly across from Tilly. Her eyes were wide, her face bleached white. Beverly, who was standing a few feet away, didn’t look much better. They were both focused on a woman’s body lying prone on the grass between us. So many people were standing and kneeling around her that I couldn’t venture a guess about her identity. Dr. Bronson, Tilly’s rheumatologist, was at her side, along with an off-duty EMT and a nurse who looked familiar. They must have all been in the gym when the screaming erupted.
Dusk was already descending, courtesy of the mountains to the west. It was becoming harder to see by the minute. The interior lights in the school didn’t reach around to this side of the school grounds. People were calling for flashlights; two men ran to find Rusty. Although it seemed like forever, it couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes before the exterior floodlights flashed on, instantly turning twilight back into day.
With the help of the EMT, Bronson turned the woman over. Wasn’t he supposed to wait for the ambulance to bring a spine board? I wondered. As they lay her on her back, the answer was easy to see. There was no need to stabilize her. Her neck had been slashed from ear to ear. She was probably dead before anyone got to her. Gasps and cries rose as those in the front passed this information to those behind them. The victim was Amanda Boswell, the missing board member.
Chapter 2
The ambulance left quietly. No lights, no sirens. No need for haste. Paul Curtis, who’d arrived in his patrol car at the same time as the emergency vehicle, remained. I hadn’t seen him since Jim Harkens’s murder was solved in the early days of the summer. Curtis was wearing his official business face as he escorted the EMTs with their gurney, but when he spotted me, he broke into a hi-how-you-doin’ smile for a second. I was pretty sure he had what my grandmother Bronwen used to call “a sweet tooth” for me. I gave him a half-hearted smile in return. Although I didn’t really know Amanda, it felt wrong to flirt or smile with her body still there. Besides, I didn’t want to encourage him when I was in limbo about my relationship with Travis Anderson.
After the ambulance took Amanda away, Curtis secured the area where she died with stakes and crime scene tape. Merlin and I gave it a wide berth as we made our way over to stand with Tilly. We each put an arm around her, though she was no longer unsteady on her feet. To be honest, I was finding the contact comforting. Maybe Merlin did too. Beverly was nearby, telling anyone who would listen about the horror of discovering “poor Amanda.” With each retelling, the story became more dramatic and her relationship with Amanda more intimate.
“Give her another ten minutes, and she’ll be Amanda’s long-lost sister,” Tilly said with dry distaste.
“Are we waiting for a polite time to leave?” Merlin wanted to know. “I find so many of your social conventions vexing.”
I tried to explain it was actually a matter of the law. “The police will want to speak to Tilly, because she was one of the people who found the body.”
“I don’t like being grilled,” she mumbled.
I gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Come on now. It’s not like they dragged you down to the police station and browbeat you under the glare of a naked light bulb the last time.”
“It was very unpleasant all the same.”
I wasn’t looking forward to another round of interviews by Detective Duggan either, but I didn’t want to stoke her distress. “We made it through then and we’ll make it through now,” I said. “Let’s leave the theatrics to Beverly.”
You have to know your audience. Comparisons to her nemesis enough to shore up her courage, Tilly squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. I was glad my friend Elise hadn’t been able to attend the meeting. She had wanted to come, but with Jim gone, she was a single parent, and no one was available to keep an eye on her boys. The last thing she needed was to be party to another homicide. Two short months ago, she had been arrested for killing her husband. She had been placed in a squad car and taken away. Her children, already traumatized by the loss of their father, had watched it all from their front porch. It’s not the kind of experience you can simply shrug off, when the police let you go with an “oops, our bad” apology. Her kids were still waking up with nightmares.
Curtis’s voice interrupted my thoughts. He was calling for quiet, not an easy endeavor. The crowd, which had been silent and respectful while Amanda was placed in a black body bag, loaded into the ambulance, and carried away, was now venting its collective shock and fear. When it came to the issue of motive, there were all kinds of theories being floated. But it was pure conjecture. All we knew for certain was that we had another killer on the loose in our once-safe town, and until he or she was caught, we were all potential targets.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Curtis said once he finally had everyone’s attention, “this is an active crime scene, and you will all have to remain here until Detective Duggan arrives and we can sort things out.” His words were met by a chorus of groans and complaints. He had to raise his voice and outshout them. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience, but if you leave the premises before being cleared to do so, you will be held to account. This is not a block party. This is now a murder investigation. I know you want us to catch the killer as soon as possible. To do that we can’t take shortcuts or give anyone a free pass because we happen to know them. I need everyone to go back inside through the emergency doors in an orderly fashion. This crime scene has been trampled enough.”
“We didn’t know it was a crime scene until they found Amanda,” one man boomed.
“I understand that, sir,” Curtis replied. “I’m not assigning blame. I just want to protect any evidence that might still be viable. So if you’ll return to the gym, I’ll get the process underway while we wait for the detective. Thank you.”
In spite of his instructions, the crowd surged forward, rounding the building toward the back doors, no doubt recalling how few chairs were to be had. Bleachers might be bearable for an entertaining sports event, but sitting on backless wooden slats while waiting to be questioned didn’t have the same appeal.
“Why are we standing here?” Merlin bristled when I didn’t lead him and Aunt Tilly in a dash to the doors. “If we are among the last to enter the building, we may well be here all night.”
My nerves were as frayed as everyone else’s, so I took a deep breath to settle myself before replying. “First of all, that’s not how this process works. The police have their own system. I’m pretty sure it isn’t first come, first served. And second, I don’t want Tilly to be pushed and shoved trying to get in there. You saw how wobbly she was.” But even as I was explaining things to Merlin, I was wondering how to find her someplace decent to sit.
Curtis had taken up a position at the emergency doors. He used the small pad of paper he carried for notes to write down the names of everyone as they filed past him into the gym. As I expected, all the folding chairs were occupied before we made our way back inside. One became available when the young man sitting there left to join a woman in the bleachers.
The chair quickly became the subject of a heated argument between two men who apparently reached it at the same time. They each had a death grip on the back of it. I debated the use of magick to wrest it from them, but it was the sort of magick Merlin was handier at. How could I ask him to do what I’d forbidden him to do earlier in the evening? The implications for dealing with him in the future made my head spin. I was still weighing my limited options when Tilly squeezed past me and plopped down on the contested chair.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” she said, smiling up at them. “You’re lifesavers. I don’t know how I would have managed, what with my arthritis and all.” She could make disingenuous look downright sincere.
The men stood there with their mouths hanging open, unable to come up with a response. They shared a glance of bewilderment as if they were cohorts and not rivals. For a moment, I was worried they might join forces to dump her out of the chair. Tilly must have sensed it too because she added another stanza to her praise.