I tried to think back to where we’d found his body. I couldn’t remember much. I’d been so focused on the body that everything else was a blur.
Damn it.
How could I get a better look? The police had strung up caution tape, making it clear they didn’t want anyone messingwith their crime scene. But I could still look through the window. They couldn’t stop me from doing that, could they? At least then I’d find out if Winston had a bunch of crystals strewn around his place.
Yeah. That didn’t make sense, did it? The place was being renovated. Who would keep a bunch of crystals at a construction site? Or was I thinking too much like my father now? Because I could absolutely see Elwood stringing up talismans or amulets everywhere if his shop was under renovation.
As I mixed the ingredients, prepped the cake pan, and preheated the oven, I jotted down words on the paper I’d brought upstairs. I worked slowly, taking my time with each step, thinking about all the questions I had about Winston’s death. I started with the names of the people at the meeting. Leon was the obvious suspect. Except he’d seemed genuinely surprised to find Winston dead. If he was the killer, would he have been that convincing?
I’d never met a murderer before, though, so what did I know? Maybe thatwashow one would act.
While the cake was baking, I stared at the list of names some more. Of course, there could be other people who might want Winston dead, too, but how would I figure out who they were?
By the time the cake was ready to take out of the oven, I was no further ahead.
Hoping for a little more time to think and bake, I dug around in Elwood’s fridge again for something to use as a topping for the cake. Elwood didn’t have any cream cheese, which was my favorite kind of icing on a spice cake, so I opted for dusting the cake with a mix of icing sugar and spices instead. Once again, I found myself reciting the supposed magical properties of the spices as I worked. It was like I couldn’t help myself.
By the time the cake was coated in the icing sugar mixture and cooled enough to eat, I still didn’t have any answers. Now what?
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten yet today. I didn’t want to eat cake. I just liked making them. So maybe I should go to the pub for a bite to eat and try eavesdropping on some conversations while I’m there?
The doorbell chimed through the apartment.
My heart thudded as the sound of the bells faded. My intuition said it wasn’t Elwood waiting downstairs, but I figured I needed to answer the door anyway. I reluctantly walked down the stairs.
At the door, I peered through the peephole. I’d half-expected to see the police getting ready to ram open the door so they could search the apartment for evidence. Instead, Tulip was standing there with a few other people I didn’t recognize.
I opened the door slowly, apprehensive about what would bring these people to me. Had they heard something about Elwood that I hadn’t?
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Hello, Declan.” Tulip smiled and patted me on the arm. Then she stepped around me and came inside, like there was never a question of whether I’d agree to her being there.
Now that I suspected Tulip was an actual mermaid, her features seemed even less human than they normally did. How had I not realized that before? The mind was a funny thing. If you wanted it to fool you, it would. Tulip didn’t go up the stairs to the apartment as I’d expected but turned left and went into the shop.
A voluptuous brunette wearing a fifties-style dress with a poofy skirt came in next. She was followed by a small guy who looked like he’d never known a moment when he didn’t want to smile or have fun.
“Oh!” The man made a production of inhaling deeply. He had the most amazing turquoise hair. “It smells amazing in here. Spicy.” He rubbed his arms. “And all the magic in the air is tickling my skin. I like it.”
I glanced out the door to see if there were more people waiting to come in.
“Don’t worry. Gideon and Az will be here soon, too,” the guy said. “I’m Sandy, by the way. You know Tulip, obvs. And Hazel is the one who looks like she wants to be a pinup model. And I think Eugene should already be—” Then he smiled and waved at something behind me. “Hey, Eugene!”
I peered over my shoulder but didn’t see anything but a shadow beyond the door in the shop–
Wait. Was the shadow moving on its own?
“What’s going on?” I asked. My brain had finally caught up with what was happening.
“It’s a misfits’ meeting,” Sandy said. His tone suggested that this should be self-evident. “We were supposed to meet last night, but now we’re here tonight.”
“Right. Okay.” Maybe they’d have some ideas about how I could help Elwood.
And if people were coming here, I could at least feed them cake. I ran upstairs and grabbed the cake and some plates. I tucked my notes in my pocket, too.
By the time I got back downstairs, they were settled in the meeting space at the back of the store. Unlike last night’s festival meeting, the atmosphere was more relaxed, despite Elwood’s notable absence. Sandy bounced in his seat when he saw the cake.
As I organized the plates and forks, I decided I should make small talk, get to know Elwood’s friends and all that.
