Chapter 13

Ian went to the back gate to wait for Shane, and, I suspected, investigate the backyard and alley for any clues.

Ifollowed, hovering right inside the back door. Not because I thought he’d do a bad job of waiting, but because I didn’t exactly relish being alone with Crane’s remains.

Iantook a long moment to study the two buildings sandwiching my shop, maybe checking if anyone was peering through the windows. Both places were currently closed up and unoccupied, but you could never be too careful when it came to covering up body disposal.

Shanearrived in record time, and I held open the back gate while he and Ian brought some rolled-up tarps inside. A few minutes later, they returned with a much bigger roll of tarp.

Shaneclosed the back doors of the van with a sharp thunk that made me jump, gave me a nod of goodbye, and got into the driver’s seat.

“Come to the cemetery in about twenty to thirty minutes, as usual. Use the deathtrap,” Ian said before giving me a fast kiss and getting into the van.

Inthe next moment, they were gone down the alleyway and into the street.

Twentyto thirty minutes, as usual. No problem. I had visited Ian plenty of times before opening the shop. Normal occurrence. Nothing to see here.

Feelingas stiff as if I’d run a marathon yesterday, I closed the gate and returned to the shop.

Itlooked…off. Empty. Cold. As if Ian had taken the warmth and coziness along with Crane’s body.

“Your shop is a reflection of your inner self. Cold shop, cold soul. Happy shop, happy heart. Cheer up, Hope. Nobody wants to stop at the IcyCauldron.”

Notin the fall, anyway.

Slappingmy cheeks lightly, I told myself to get my head back in the game. So what if someone had died on my floorboards? Not the first time that had happened. All the room needed was some cleansing, and it’d be as good as new.

Withrenewed determination, I brought a bucket with water and bleach and set out to give the floor a fast wipe. If they had bled Crane here, they had done a great job of not letting any drop of blood go to waste.

Definitelydark witches.

Iscrubbed a bit harder, then returned the cleaning supplies to their place.

Afterturning on the ceiling fan to help dissipate some of the bleach stench, I sprayed some moon water on the floor and awakened my magic.

Cleanse.

Awarethat this was going to be a long, strenuous day, I only allowed a tiny bit of power to resonate with the incantation. I would do a better, more focused cleansing potion and spell later, but I owed it to my clients to at least get rid of some of the bad mojo now.

Happywith the fruit of my labors, I ate a Halloween muffin, then went to get Bee-Bee.

Ifound Ian, Shane, and Alex at the detached garage-slash-workshop. They had laid Crane on a workbench over a blue tarp. How many dead people had their tarps seen? Probably not the time to ask.

“Hi, boss,” Alex said, way too cheerfully for the circumstances. “Caught yourself a big one, eh?”

Ilaughed awkwardly.

“Dude,” Shane said, slapping his arm.

Alexgrinned and rubbed his hands in anticipation, and I wondered if they were going to slap me with a body disposal bill.

Ireally needed to fill out more Council grant applications.

“Where’sKey?” I asked.

“Hasn’t arrived yet,” Shane said.

“Okay, good.” I might have to accept the strays’ help, but at least I wouldn’t have to get Key involved.

“Good?” Ian asked.

“I don’t want to involve her in this.” I pointed at Crane’s sprawled body.

Iantilted his head. “What happened to her bounty hunter training?”

“In stages! Can’t just jump to murder.”

Shaneshook his head. “Key isn’t going to like it.”

“Plus, we might need her help to bury the body,” Alex added.

“If we need her help, then we’ll tell her. But for now, the fewer people know about it, the better.” I glared at each of them, daring them to contradict me.

Shaneand Alex lifted their hands in surrender, but judging from their expressions, they had serious doubts about my decision.

Guiltnagged at me, but until we figured out why my shop had been targeted and who had offed Crane, there was no point in putting more people in danger.

ButI had to admit that wasn’t the only reason. There was something so wholesome about Key’s eagerness to help that it made me recoil at the idea of embroiling her in a murder. Rationally, I knew this wouldn’t be the messiest situation she had encountered in her young life, and that she wouldn’t appreciate me treating her like a child, but still...

“You think he was murdered?” Alex asked, studying Crane’s wristwatch closely.

“No stealing from the dead,” I warned him sternly. “Too much bad karma.” His question was a good one, though. “You think he could’ve died from natural causes?” The idea cheered me up. MaybeI was wrong about everything, and there wasn’t a murderer to catch.

“Doubtful,” Shane said. “What are the chances he dies from natural causes while he’s breaking into your shop?”

“Could’ve died elsewhere and was moved to the shop,” Alex said.

Whichwould mean at least two people were involved, considering the weight of Crane. I wasn’t sure what was worse—more than one person trying to set me up, or Crane being murdered in my shop.

“Are there any marks?” I asked. “I think he might’ve been exsanguinated.”

Shanerolled up Crane’s sleeve to check his arm.

“Gloves! Gloves!” I exclaimed in horror. Had he never watched a police procedural?

Shanegave me an odd look. “Right.”

Allthree of them put on their work gloves and approached Crane like medical examiners ready to open him apart. Luckily, none of them picked up a saw.

“Looks like a mark here,” Shane said, handling Crane’s arm. It was stiff and pale, with only the barest of bruises marring the bottom skin. According to my TV show sources, lividity should’ve left bigger bruises. Someone had definitely taken his blood.

Ipeeked closer at the spot Shane had indicated. A small bloody spot marred Crane’s inner elbow. “An injection mark? Drugs?” But if he’d done drugs on himself, he would’ve stopped the bleeding, wouldn’t he? Unless someone wanted to make it appear like some sort of overdose. “Could be they took his blood through here.”

Shaneand Alex grimaced.

“Really?” Alex asked.

Inodded. “Stabbings are messy, lots of blood gone to waste.” Just because Bagley and Vicky had liked to go at it old style in the bathtub didn’t mean all dark witches shared their technique.

“Could he have died from bleeding out like that?” Shane asked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe? I think it would’ve taken a long time, though.” I began sweating again. How long had the murderer been in my shop?

“So, they could’ve bled him out elsewhere, then moved him to the TeaCauldron,” Shane said.

“But why leave him at the shop?” I pondered aloud. AsIan had said, if the point was to get me into trouble, why not call the police right away? “Any other signs of violence?”

Theysearched but found no obvious bullet holes or bloody gushes, and none of us were willing to undress Crane to search any deeper.

“Could’ve been poisoned,” I said.

“Shot, then redressed,” Alex suggested.

“Intentional heart attack,” Shane added.

“We need to find out who did it,” I agreed.

Weall looked at Ian.

Amusementcurved his mouth. “I’m not the police.”

“In the paranormal world you might as well be,” I said.

Hecrossed his arms over his chest. “Not until I’m hired.”

Ipatted my pockets and found nothing but my phone, so I grabbed a small screwdriver from the wall and handed it to Ian. He stared at it like it was a new tool of unfathomable power.

“A token to pay for your services,” I told him.

“It’s my tool.”

“Consider it on loan.”

Alexbarked a laugh.

Ianrolled his eyes and spun the screwdriver in his hand. “Bounty hunters do the apprehending, not the investigating.”

“I’m sure together we can waddle through the problem.” I thought back on all I had learned from my sister’s suspense novels—those authors did some heavy research—and came up with an idea. “MMO. Means, motive, and opportunity.” We all switched our attention back to the body. “Who would want to kill Crane?”

Shanesnorted. “Who wouldn’t?”

Cranedid have a long history of pissing off everyone in Olmeda. I turned to Ian. “Maybe a customer from his broker business was mad at him?” If they had removed his blood to use for dark magic purposes, his killer being involved in the illegal side of the paranormal community made sense. It could’ve been someone who wanted to use the blood or wanted to sell it.

“Could be,” Ian said.

“What broker business?” Shane asked.

Itold him and Alex about Crane’s secret identity as a dark marketplace broker.

“Dude sure knew how to rack up enemies,” Alex said.

“Did you have a beef with him?” Shane asked. “Is that why they chose to frame you?”

Ithought about it, then shook my head. “No, I doubt Crane told anyone about our deal. And we didn’t part on bad terms. As far as everyone knows, he’s only my accountant. But…”

“But?” Ian prodded.

“What if it has something to do with the pentagrams?”

“How?”

“Janet said she saw Crane walk by before she was told about the pentagram behind her shop. What if Crane saw something he shouldn’t have? What if he saw the culprit and recognized them through the glamour?”

“It’s a big jump from painting on a wall to murder,” Ian said.

“Maybe the pentagrams are more serious than we realize. Think about it: if Crane saw something, killing him and dropping him in my shop to frame me while I’m in charge of investigating the pentagrams would take care of two problems with one crystal.” My brain grabbed the premise and hurled itself down the hill, throwing out idea after idea. “MaybeCrane was involved with the pentagrams. Maybe he was an accomplice, and they came to paint one on my shop.”

“The pentagrams were outside the buildings. Why would they go inside?” Ian asked.

“Maybe they planned on doing more than painting outside for the second night,” I told him in triumph. “Maybe he was the lookout man, but something went wrong and he died, and his partner decided to leave him there. The blood was an unintended extra.”

“And they just happened to have blood-sucking supplies with them?” Ian asked dryly.

“A witch always comes prepared. Maybe they had the equipment in their car, or they planned on getting Crane’s blood or someone else’s from the start, just not right away.”

“That makes sense, boss,” Alex said.

Shanenodded in agreement.

Ibeamed at Ian.

“Lots of ‘maybes’ in there,” Ian pointed out.

“Sometimes ‘maybes’ are all one has.”

Notas awed by my wise words as I wished he’d been, Ian gestured toward Crane’s corpse. “We done with this?”

Whennobody answered, he arched his eyebrows. “Hope?”

“What? Oh!” I ran through a mental list of things to check on dead bodies. Admittedly, it was short and haphazardly put together. “Yeah, I think so.”

Ianjerked his head toward the house and the cemetery beyond. “Go start digging a hole out of sight.”

Shanewent to retrieve a couple of shovels.

Alexsent me a pleading look. “Can’t we call Key?”

“No,” Shane said, handing him a shovel.

Alexgrumbled but followed Shane out of the garage.

Iwatched them go. “Seems unfair to have them dig the grave.”

“You wanted me to involve Alex more in my business.”

“Not like this!”

Iangrinned. “Don’t worry, they’ve done it before.”

Thinkingabout how they had “disappeared” Mr. Lewis and the few people who had come to a bad end in the shifters’ forest made me wonder if digging up holes was a shifter thing.

Turningback to Ian, I gave him a nod. “Okay, our turn to investigate. Let’s make a murder board.”