Prague Murder (7 page)

She certainly hadn’t done it multiple times.

She would like to believe that she and Gabe would eventually have that kind of love. But what they had now…it was a baby love. It was the love that gave them reason to stay together. It was a love worth believing in and taking the next step.

And suddenly she wanted to take that step more than anything. She had left the island loving him and knowing that her baggage was confusing things. She had started a relationship with him without being serious. And it had become serious despite herself and her baggage and her dead husband and her self-doubt, and now—even though all of those things existed. She wanted to try harder.

She wanted to change.

She wanted to be enough.

She wanted for him to look at her, with all her imperfections, and accept her and let her do her best to make him happy. She didn’t think he’d need to do anything else to make her happy. Or she couldn’t currently imagine anything else. It was just that…even though she knew there would be times when he irritated her, she needed him.

Just as he was.

As long as he was loving her.

She sent him a text. It wasn’t a picture of her toes. It wasn’t a joke. It was simple.

I MISS YOU.

I LOVE YOU.

Even though it was the middle of the night, and she was disturbing his rest with yet another murder and yet another reason to worry, he replied in a moment.

I CAN’T WAIT TO HOLD YOU AGAIN.

* * * * * * * *

Ingrid stood and looked around. If she were Gabe and she was investigating this murder, she…well…she wouldn’t rely on truth serum. If Gabe were investigating, even with truth serum, he’d be looking at the family first. The ghost—because as much as Ingrid wanted to romanticize her—that chick had gone from leaving a trail of rose petals to leaving streaks of blood tears. And, of course, the vampire. Not because he was a vampire. Ingrid wasn’t some sort of racist.

He had, however, disappeared. And that didn’t bode well for anyone in a murder investigation. Vampire Igor had left the scene of the murder using his connections or knowledge of the scene and why would anyone who hadn’t killed the dead guy flee?

So, the family made two people with creepy girl crone Gwennie and the wife. And then the ghost and the vampire. Four suspects.

But then again, they’d truth serumed everyone except three of the four main suspects. And, for that matter, the normal sisters Cathy and Carol. How
had
they ended up on a tour for magic users? How come they didn’t drink the serum? Ingrid had made it the coffee for them perfectly. It was her gift and few would turn down a cup of coffee that
Ingrid
had made for them. Especially in a breezy convent, with no chance of going to get snacks or what not. Her eyes narrowed on the duo.

But the retired sisters just didn’t strike Ingrid as murderers.

Emily walked up behind Ingrid as she was staring towards the sisters.

“You starting to count up who it could be?”

Ingrid nodded.

“Vampire Igor,” Emily said holding up one perfectly manicured fingernail.

“The wife,” Ingrid said. Their eyes met for a moment, and neither of them pointed out how each of them was too-well aware that the wife was the likeliest candidate according to the police. They had both been suspects in their husband’s deaths.

Of course…they had both been innocent.

Neither of them needed to re-explain this to other.

“Girl-crone-dove,” Ingrid said.

“I thought she didn’t do it.”

“She creeps me out,” Ingrid said. “She’s like Autumn. She might have slid by the truth serum test, but you can never be quite sure.”

“Maybe I’ll beat it out of her.” Emily held up her fists, made awkward with her long, perfect nails.

They both snorted and then said in unison, “The ghost.”

“For real,” Ingrid said. “That dove is way beyond feeling me up like your creepy uncle. And way beyond the stuff dickhead used to pull.” Neither of them had any additional experience with ghosts beyond those two ghosts. Dickhead was Emily’s ex who had haunted the bookstore and been gotten rid of by a teenager with a spell-book. And, Emily’s uncle who had haunted the car Em had inherited. He’d felt up Ingrid one too many times and been driven off the edge of a cliff on Sage Island. Which was, apparently, bad for the environment as well as irresponsible.

Ingrid had not once rolled her eyes at Gabe when he’d lectured her.

Well…she
had.
But they hadn’t been back together when he’d been lecturing her. He could have been telling her about a great new restaurant, and she’d have rolled her eyes at him. That had been when he’d been looking into her husband’s death and assuming that just because she’d blown up a body, buried it, and then pretended she hadn’t that she had somehow been the murderer.

The thought brought a twinkle to her eye, and she sent another text to Gabe:

PICK ONE: GHOST, WIFE, VAMPIRE. ALSO, REMEMBER WHEN I BURIED THAT BODY? GOOD TIMES…

He replied in moments again.

THOSE ARE YOUR SUSPECTS?!?! I MISS YOU—BUT I’M GLAD I’M NOT INVESTIGATING THAT CRIME. STATISTICALLY THE WIFE. BUT…WHEN YOU ADD VAMPIRE AND GHOST? WHO KNOWS?

“O.M.Gah,” Emily said as she read over Ingrid’s shoulder. “Your cuteness is making me want to jab out my eyes with a fork.”

“I’d say text Dean and tell him to get the Presidium doves to let us go. But that evil man-dove took some secret assignment.”

“Shut up,” Emily said and crossed over to Cathy and Carol and said baldly, “Why didn’t you drink the coffee?”

Cathy tilted her head and asked, “Does it matter?”

“We put truth serum in it to find the killer, so we can go have snacks and wine,” Ingrid said, sitting down next to Cathy.

“Truth serum?” Carol asked.

“Everyone here is some type of magic user except you,” Emily said. “How did you find this tour?”

“Um, magic user?” Cathy asked. She glanced over at Carol and then back at the two friends. Her look seemed to say, can you even believe this? But then another expression came over her face. The realization that they’d seen that ghost.

Her sister seemed to be reading her mind as she said, “There was the ghost.”

“Yes.”

The two of them stared at each other in the same sort of silent conversation that Emily and Ingrid had experienced many times.

“We don’t drink coffee,” Cathy told the friends. “If you’d like to give us the truth serum directly, we’ll answer your questions. But will you answer mine?”

“Yes,” Ingrid said. She just
liked
Cathy. She was the type of woman that was so motherly. She was the type of woman that Ingrid wished her own mother was. Ingrid suspected that Cathy would have been the type of woman who would have accepted Harrison as a son-in-law. And Cathy would not have been a little bit happy when her daughter was widowed. Ingrid suspected that someone like Cathy wouldn’t mind Gabe at all—magic user or not. Gods, Ingrid realized. I have
so
much baggage and a need to confront my mother.

Maybe, she thought, maybe I shouldn’t have run when I realized Mom was coming.

Maybe, Ingrid then thought, maybe these crazy ideas I am having are spawning from being in love with a man like Gabe. Because he was a
man.
The type of man who wouldn’t run from her mom’s bullcrap even if Ingrid did. The type of man who owned his life.

Goodness you weak dove, she thought, you need to grow up.

“What kind of magic user,” Cathy asked. Her eyes said she was willing to, at least, humor them.

“Technically we’re witches,” Emily said.

“Technically?” Carol stood and stretched, she was examining people in the room with a new light. Rather like everyone else who realized that someone in the group was the killer.

“We suck,” Emily said.

“So very bad,” Ingrid added. She fist bumped Emily and then sat next to Cathy. Maybe Ingrid would just snuggle in and let Cathy’s mothering ways make everything all right.

“But you made truth serum,” Cathy asked. Not a lot got by her. Ingrid assumed it was also the mothering bit. She had probably heard all the lies. She was the type of woman to tenderly care for a grandchild and have chased her son with a broom.

“Oh no,” Ingrid and Emily said together. “We bought it.”

“From much better witches,” Ingrid said.

“The dedicated hookers,” Emily added. “Who do things like practice and care and study.”

“You’re not dedicated?”

“Nah,” Emily rubbed her face and sat on Cathy’s other side while Carol paced in front of them. “Being dedicated is like constantly going to school. We like to eat and nap and lay in the sun.”

“So what can you do?”

“Sometimes we set things on fire,” Ingrid said. Emily’s exhaustion was rubbing off on Ingrid. Or she just needed more coffee. She was holding the coffee she’d made for Cathy and took an unaware sip.

“Ingrid,” Emily said as she saw Ingrid’s face looking between Ingrid and the cup. “You are a moron.”

“Shut up, cow dove,” Ingrid said. She
was
an idiot. A huge, giant, dumb dove. She texted Gabe what she’d done just to make the corner of his eyes crinkle. Man, she missed him.

“Girls!” Cathy scolded with a fierce look between the two of them. “Be nice.”

“Ingrid just drank some truth serum.” Emily’s face broke into grin as she said. “You idiot.”

“Shut your mouth, my best dove, before I am forced to be mad at you.”

“You don’t get mad at me,” Emily said. “Not for real.”

“Shut up, damn it,” Ingrid said, knowing what Emily said was true. Ingrid leaned her head against the wall, closed her eyes, and wished—desperately—for this day to be over.

“Did you kill Joe,” Carol asked Ingrid.

“What? No!” Ingrid said, sitting forward and staring at the woman. She was looking around the room, watching everyone who passed suspiciously.

“Have you ever killed anyone,” Carol asked, turning back to examine Ingrid carefully.

“Are you using my truth serum against me,” Ingrid asked and then answered the first question, the answer was beating against the back of her teeth. “I have never killed anyone on purpose. Sometimes I wonder if I accidentally killed my husband with my magic. But if I did it
was
an accident.”

“Oh Ingrid,” Emily said. “Hazel says you couldn’t have. You need to let that go.”

“I don’t care. I still wonder. And then I worry for Gabe. Gods, Em, I can’t lose him like I lost Harrison.”

“Oh sweetie,” Cathy said, taking Ingrid’s hand in hers and wrapping her arm around Ingrid’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t have killed either your husband or your new love. I can see that in your eyes.”

“But you didn’t kill those other people you were investigated for?” Carol didn’t seem to have the same faith in Ingrid that her sister did. Or maybe Cathy just didn’t like to see another squirm. Maybe she couldn’t help but step in and comfort someone regardless of what she really thought.

“How do you know there were multiple ones?” Emily looked at Carol suspiciously. Emily’s defensive protection of Ingrid was running on high.

“Google,” Carol replied, holding up her smart phone. “My granddaughter has been showing me all kinds of things.”

“Smart phones are more magical than anything we can do,” Ingrid said to Emily, but also to the sisters. She and Em really were just the worst witches. “And no, I didn’t kill anyone I was investigated for. I wasn’t even a suspect on that last one.”

“Well yeah,” Emily said. “Jill was killed by magic and we don’t have that kind of skill. These Presidium types wouldn’t be seriously considering us if they really believed we suck as hard as we do.”

Ingrid sighed and drank more of Cathy’s coffee. After all, it was there, and the damage had already been done. It was also a little counter productive. The truth serum prepared you for a great nap. And she didn’t see herself getting to her bed any time soon. Regardless, she shrugged and took another sip.

Emily pulled a vial of truth serum out of her pocket and gave it to Cathy and Carol who each sipped half.

“Try it,” Ingrid suggested.

“The sky is gr…blue,” Carol said.

“Always that one,” Ingrid commented and Emily nodded.

“The world is sq…round.” Cathy said, noting their byplay.

“Did you kill that guy Joe,” Emily asked.

“No,” both sisters said at once. Cathy relaxed a bit next to Ingrid and then said, “This is very relaxing. I have been struggling with pain in my back all day and it all just slipped away.”

“Really?” Ingrid asked and then thought about it. Hey! Her boobs didn’t hurt. Cathy was totally right. Ingrid was still hungry though and could totally go for some tacos. Or those fruit dumpling things. Or a chocolate croissant from Papa Pandolfi’s Pastries back home.

“Cathy,” Carol said. “Magic is real.”

“Or truth serums are,” Cathy said. She stretched her arms up over her head and then down to her feet. “This is fantastic. I want more.”