17. Mina

Murdered? Our beautiful celebrant? But…why?

How could a murder happen so close to our wedding?

"Arf?" Oscar sounded as distressed as I felt.

Morrie listened to Quoth for a few more moments, then rang off. He tugged my hand in the direction of Nevermore Bookshop. "We need to get back to the shop and bring Quoth a change of clothes. He left his in the woods behind the graveyard after Heathcliff told him to follow Dorothy Ingram. I'll call an Uber from there."

"Wait, why did Heathcliff want Quoth to follow Dorothy Ingram?"

"Oh. Er. Secret wedding stuff." Morrie practically dragged me and Oscar down the street. "And that's the only answer you'll get out of me."

My stomach twisted in knots as we jogged back to Nevermore. I ran up to Quoth's bedroom and shoved a random assortment of his clothing into a tote bag, then Oscar and I settled ourselves into the back of an Uber (luckily, the driver, Tamsyn, was a regular, and understood about service animals).

Poor Iwan. He was such a bright, kind-hearted soul. I can't believe someone wanted him dead.

Eight minutes later, we pulled into the long driveway at Lachlan Hall. I'd been here enough times that even though it was pitch black to me outside, I could recognise the change from the rough country road to the effortlessly smooth concrete and the soft crunch as the car drove over dropped acorns from the towering oaks that lined the long driveway.

As Tamsyn came to a stop, I noticed blinking lights all around us. Police cars, ambulances, and people scurried about. It was a lot of stimulation for my eyes, and I slid gingerly out of the car, gripping Oscar's harness tight as a bright orange light flickered across my vision and the beginning of a migraine flared in my temple.

"There you are," Heathcliff's voice boomed. Instantly, I felt better. Heathcliff's alive. He's okay.

A moment later, he pulled me into his arms, crushing me against him. "Don't worry, Mina. It will be okay. You're safe with me."

"Of course I am." I squeezed him extra tight. "I'm not the one who found a murder scene. Tell me what happened?"

"I was here, waiting for a delivery of secret wedding stuff. It was only me, because I gave the security team the day off and Cynthia was busy with the conference. I heard something around the side of the house. I came around and found Iwan lying there, his head bashed in, and one of Quoth's decorative urn props beside him, covered in blood. I called the police and looked around for a murderer, but there are a million places to hide in this place."

"Have you seen Quoth?"

"I called him as soon as I found Iwan. Quoth flew over immediately. I've seen him fly overhead a couple of times, so I assume he's hiding somewhere nearby. Come on." Heathcliff started leading me back to the car. "Let's get you home. What I could do with right now is a?—"

"Heathcliff Earnshaw," DS Wilson's authoritative voice cut through me like a knife. "I don't know where you think you're going. We need to talk to you."

Heathcliff's body tensed. "I've given a statement."

"Yes, you have. But that was before we found this on the victim's phone." She held out an object. "You can see it in this photo I'm showing you now."

"What is it?" I asked, leaning in, even though it was unlikely I'd see anything. I could discern that we were all looking at her phone.

Wilson said triumphantly. "It's a text message, sent from one Heathcliff Earnshaw, demanding the victim meet him in the exact spot where he was murdered."