A Mysterious Murder in Faerywood Falls Page 13

  When she did turn around and see me, it was too late.

  I’d already plunged the arrow into the small hollow between her neck and collarbone.

  She gasped, her fingers closing over the silver, and she cried out in pain.

  She tried desperately to disappear, but her body kept reappearing in front of me.

  She sagged, collapsing onto her knees, her whole body convulsing…

  I grabbed Athena and ran out of the house, not looking back at what I was sure was a gruesome, painful death.

  15

  I was getting awfully tired of the flashing red and blue lights. I was numb to them, but they also exhausted me. I knew what they meant. They meant repetitive questions that required long, detailed answers, and stretches of uncomfortable silence.

  There were more people crammed into my tiny cabin than there ever had been before, and all I could do was stand outside in the cold, dark night and watch.

  Athena had found a nearby tree to hide behind, close enough to me that I could still speak with her. She kept asking if I was okay, and I’d tell her over and over again that I was.

  I really was okay. Susan hadn’t hurt me at all…

  But I was getting really tired of people trying to kill me in order to protect their secrets.

  I’m no better, though…am I? I asked Athena as I watched the police taking photos of the poker, now cold, still lying on the floor where it had fallen. I went over to see Rebecca Blackburn that night when I was so angry…to what? Did I mean to kill her? Did I want revenge that badly? Is it so easy to feel that way?

  No…Athena said. That’s not what you were going to do.

  I wasn’t really sure I believed her.

  Behind the cabin, the bright red lights of the ambulance were reflecting off the walls. In their glow, I watched as two of the EMTs took Susan’s body away on a stretcher. I wasn’t sure if she was dead yet or not. Part of me hoped she wasn’t, and another part hoped she was indeed dead, and couldn’t come back to try to kill me again.

  Deputy Morris, the same officer who had showed up at the crime scene at the saw mill, wandered over to me, his little notebook in his hands. “Alright, Miss Huffler…the body’s been removed, but I’m afraid we’re going to need to have some time to look through the cabin.”

  “Do you need to take me down to the station for questioning?” I asked heavily, exhaustion making my eyes sting.

  He shook his head. “No. I think it’s quite clear what happened here just from the evidence I’ve seen. That, and the witness account from your neighbor backs everything you said up.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Mrs. Bickford, who was talking animatedly to another one of the officers, her hands gesturing wildly as she retold the story of how she’d seen Susan walking up the steps to my cabin and breaking in.

  We both knew that Susan hadn’t broken in, exactly…her ghost walking ability let her walk through my front door as if it were made of nothing more than smoke. But neither of us revealed that little nugget of truth to the officers who were questioning us.

  For once, I was grateful for her nosiness, since it had come in so handy. She’d been the one to call the police first, after all.

  I made a mental note to get her some of those chocolates from the bakery in town that she liked so much.

  “We still have to confirm it, of course, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about. It does mean that you’re going to need to find some new accommodations…at least for tonight, so we can get everything cleaned up for you in there,” Deputy Morris said.

  Cleaned up. Would they ever be able to get all of her blood out of the floor? “That’s fine,” I said. “I think it’s going to be a while before I’m comfortable sleeping alone in my cabin again. Can I get a few things before I head over to my aunt’s lodge, though?”

  “That’s fine,” Deputy Morris said. He gave me a sidelong look. “I guess Sheriff Garland was right. You do have quite the knack for solving cases, don’t you? But also for attracting danger.”

  “It’s not something I’m proud of,” I said, folding my arms.

  “I’m not saying you are,” he said. “It just makes me feel sort of sorry for you, is all.”

  What an encouraging thought.

  “Let me get some of the guys to step out here, give you some space, and we’ll give you a few minutes to pack a bag, alright?” he asked.

  “Sure…” I said tightly. I didn’t really like the idea of going back in there, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?

  Marianne, Athena said. Look.

  I turned toward the tree she hid behind, and saw her peering around the opposite side. I followed her gaze, and saw a silhouette standing in the forest.

  I tensed as I recognized the shadowy, broad figure of Dante Fain looking on…just like he said he would.

  I swallowed hard, not wanting him to see fear on my face.

  I may have solved the murder of Harriet Bennet…but there was still the mystery of the monster hunter to deal with, wasn’t there? He may not have been involved, but he’d seen the whole thing going on.

  That…and I knew little about the creature that he claimed to hunt…the same creature that I feared had taken the life of one of Lucan’s pack…

  A chill ran down my spine as I turned my gaze away from Dante’s hulking form at the edge of the forest.

  The forest would protect me in the end. The magic there would answer my mother’s request.

  I wasn’t going to let my fear of that man take hold…as disturbing as his presence was.

  For now, I needed rest. I needed time to think, to process what had happened.

  I wished there was someone I could turn to, but in that moment, I couldn’t think of anyone.

  I was alone once more…and I was going to have to resolve these fears on my own…just like my mother had.

  Continue following the Mountain Magic Mysteries in Book 8: The Terrible Truth of Faerywood Falls.

  About the Author

  Blythe Baker is a thirty-something bottle redhead from the South Central part of the country. When she’s not slinging words and creating new worlds and characters, she’s acting as chauffeur to her children and head groomer to her household of beloved pets.

  Blythe enjoys long walks with her dog on sweaty days, grubbing in her flower garden, cooking, and ruthlessly de-cluttering her overcrowded home. She also likes binge-watching mystery shows on TV and burying herself in books about murder.

  To learn more about Blythe, visit her website and sign up for her newsletter at www.blythebaker.com