“By going around and asking if they’re murderers? That doesn’t seem like the best way to make friends and influence people.” It’d been a while since I’d read that book, but I was pretty sure Dale Carnegie hadn’t covered murder interrogations.
“Perhaps not, but if you’re planning to stay for a while…” Elwood’s words drifted off as he watched me.
“I guess we haven’t had a chance to talk since I showed up on your doorstep.” I wiped the dishtowel over the bowl again, even though it was already dry. “Is it, um, okay if I stick around for a bit?”
Elwood nodded. “It might even be for the best. If your magic has manifested, you’ll need some training. It’ll also help being around so much other magic. Ravenstone is filled with it.”
I bit my bottom lip. Elwood was right. I’d come here to get away from Josh, but with the whole magic thing, I had even more reason to stay. I hadn’t wanted to bring it up until Elwooddid, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.Magic. It was still so fantastical, like something I’d dreamed up. But now that he’d said something, I felt like he was inviting me to talk about it. “Do you truly believe I have magic? I mean, I know what everyone said last night about my cake, but do I really have enough that I need magic lessons?”
“If that spice cake was anything to go by, I’d say you’ve already been practicing magic. We just need to give it a little structure. And that happens through more practice and training.”
Wow, look at me, having my very own Percy Jackson moment at the ripe old age of twenty-seven. I collapsed into a nearby chair. “Really? But how?”
“You have a lot of potential.” Elwood sat across from me. “Do you not feel anything different since you’ve arrived here?”
“Huh. I feel…” I rubbed my chest. I didn’t notice the champagne bubbles at the moment, but could that be related to the magic, too? “I don’t know exactly what I feel. I was awake half the night thinking about it. I don’t even know what magic does. If I’m already using it, wouldn’t I know?”
“It’s innate, but your control, understanding, and mastery of it will grow stronger with instruction.”
My cheeks heated. “It’s all a little overwhelming. In a good way, I think.”
“I should hope it’s good. It’s a part of who you are. You need to accept it like you do all the other parts of yourself. If you can get used to having hazel eyes and tripping over your feet all the time–”
“Hey!”
“You can get used to magic,” Elwood continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “It’ll be a bit of an adjustment, but I know you can do it. I just wish you hadn’t already lost so much time. Your father has a lot to answer for.”
“What do you mean?”
“He hid your magic from me. Probably thought it’d go away if he didn’t acknowledge it. But your magic would have manifested when you were about eighteen.”
“Wait? Dad knows?” I raised my eyebrows. “Is he magical, too?”
“He is,” Elwood said. “His is more related to luck. It’s one of the reasons he’s so good at his job. It also means that he can dismiss his magic as being something else. How many times have you heard him say something like ‘I was just prepared,’ ‘the research came through,’ or ‘I put the work in and made my own luck.’”
Yeah, Dad had said all those things. All the freaking time.
“Huh. Who knew?”
Before I could ask anything more, the doorbell chimed.
“That’ll be Gideon,” I said. I tucked the damp dish towel over a hook. “We’re going to talk to Jim this morning.”
Elwood nodded. “Be careful.”
“I will,” I agreed as I adjusted my glasses. “One last thing. Should I, um, be worried about anything? Like, could my magic hurt someone?”
“For practitioners like us, magic is largely about intent. If you don’t wish to hurt someone, you won’t.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Okay. That’s good.”
“But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still be careful,” he said.
I nodded, feeling lighter about, well, everything than I had when I woke.
And I was happy Elwood didn’t try to talk me out of investigating Winston’s murder. Although I wasn’t even sure why I felt compelled to continue the investigation at this point. Grady had moved on from his interest in Elwood. ButI kept thinking about how quickly he’d hauled Elwood in for questioning to begin with.
What if the sheriff changed his mind again? What if someone tried to frame Elwood now that they knew he’d been questioned once already? Or what if the killer came for Elwood next? We didn’t know why Winston had been killed, so what if someone was murdering local business owners?
