“Well, I can tell you this: he’s not a suspect in her death, so ease his mind on that. But Elphyra, I’d like to ask for your help.” Daisy hesitated, then added, “I have a few questions and I think you might be able to help sort them out.”
“Me?”
“You’re good at communicating with ghosts. I want to know if she killed herself on purpose. I want to know if Lucretia committed suicide. And if so, did something drive her to it?”
“You mean like another car? Surely there would be skid marks?”
“No, I’m not talking about that. I think…I think there might have been some creature in the car with her. When we got to the scene of the accident, the passenger door was open. I spotted a few tracks in the snow before they just stopped.”
I froze. “Tracks? Human?”
“Not any human I’ve ever met. These tracks showed a small, round foot, with three long toes. I don’t think it was very big.” She paused, then said, “Maybe the size of your dragonette.”
People knew about Fancypants, even though I did my best to keep him secret. “Dragonettes don’t bond with shifters,” I said.
“I didn’t say that. You asked what size and I told you.” She paused again, then asked, “What kind of feet does your dragonette have?”
“You can come look or I can send you a photo, but he has more than three toes, and his front feet are more like arms, with fingers. Five of them. He’s got his own form of thumbs. You aren’t insinuating anything, are you?” I was probably feeling touchy, but Daisy was starting to irritate me.
“Elphyra, I am not saying I think your dragonette—or you—had anything to do with this. I’m trying to establish size, and some semblance of what it might have looked like.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “But I need your help. Would you be willing to come out to the scene and see what you can find out? You’re the only person I can think to ask.”
I shook off the mood. “All right. I can come out this afternoon. Text me when and where to meet you. Do you need to talk to Faron?”
“I’d like to, but only to ask him some things about Lucretia and her life. Maybe if we can find out who or what she’s been hanging out with, we can get a better feel for who might have wanted her dead.”
“I’ll talk to him, and see if he can meet with you later. He desperately needs sleep. He spent last night huddling out at the Carlton farmstead, hiding in the basement. I don’t think he even knew what he was doing there.” I agreed to meet her at around one-thirty.
Bran and Faron were sitting in the kitchen, eating. I sat down at the table, grabbing a piece of toast to nibble on.
“I talked to Daisy,” I said.
Faron glanced at me. “And?”
“She’d like to talk to you, but not because you’re a suspect. In fact, I’m headed out to the crash scene this afternoon to see if I can help out. Apparently, something crawled out of the passenger seat of her car after she crashed, struggled through the snow a little ways, and then just seems to have vanished. Whatever it was had small feet and three long toes.”
Faron blinked. “Three toes?”
“Right. Daisy wants to talk to you about what Lucretia might have been up to. I told her that you might be able to talk to her this afternoon. She can follow me back, after I’m finished helping her.” I crossed to the espresso machine to make myself a second latte—this time a triple. By now, the morning one felt like it had worn off. “That should give you a chance to sleep for three or four hours.”
“I’ll stay home today,” Bran said. “My mother can handle the immediate chores, and we have help now so the animals are covered.”
As a small town farm, Brambleberry Farm boasted several cows, goats, a lot of chickens, some sheep, and bee hives. May sold honey, preserves, eggs, and meat, along with some charms and other magical goodies. Bran had finally hired help so that May wouldn’t have to work so hard, and he usually put in long days helping the men. He was about as physically fit as you could get.
“Give her a call now so she knows you’re taking the day off,” I said. I glanced over at Faron, who had finished his breakfast. He was nodding off at the table. “Faron? Faron?”
“Huh?” Faron jerked awake. “What… Did I fall asleep?”
“Yeah, you did,” I said, feeling protective. He seemed so wiped out right now, and so confused. It reminded me, uncomfortably, of his days when he was in a coma, and then afterward—when he was trying to remember his life. He’d been so painfully vulnerable. I’d sat there at the hospital day after day with his brother, hoping for good news. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
Bran motioned for me to help him. “I’ll put the dishes in the dishwasher and clean up,” he said. I met his gaze and saw the trust there, and understanding. Mouthing a ‘thank you,’ I led Faron back to the guest room.
He slid out of his robe, draping it over the brass clothes rack near the bottom of the bed. Then, he turned to me, and I froze. The look on his face was one I remembered from brighter days.
“Elphyra…” His voice was low. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me. You and Bran. You didn’t have to.”
“That’s what friends do,” I said. “We’re so sorry about Lucretia, but Faron, we’re even more sorry about what happened to you. Did you know? That you couldn’t have children?”
He shook his head. “Maybe something happened when I was so badly hurt. I don’t know. I’ve never had a woman tell me I got her pregnant. I was always careful. I had to be—I was in line to be king. I couldn’t have a gaggle of children running around who could challenge for the throne. They wouldn’t be allowed, but it would have complicated matters.”
