“So the police are already investigating the case?”
“Yep. Hayes and Wilson are taking statements from all the Banned Book Club members. Hayes said he’d be around tomorrow morning to take one from you and your friend, the beautiful Quoth.”
Shit. If the police needed to talk to Quoth, this was a big problem. Because his shifting was so erratic and he spent most of his time in his bird form, Quoth lived off-the-grid. If the police had cause to look into his background, they’d discover he didn’t technically exist, and that could cause all kinds of problems. After all the effort we went to after Ashley’s death to keep him out of things, he’d end up before the police anyway, and all because I’d encouraged him to come out of his shell.
That shell was what protected him, and I’ve gone and blown it to smithereens.
I excused myself, went to the ladies loo, and called Morrie. “We have a problem.” I filled him in on Mrs. Scarlett’s murder and the police investigation.
“Arsenic?” Morrie’s voice perked up. “That’s not exactly a common poison these days. Not quick or painless, either. I much prefer cyanide.”
“I don’t want to hear that. What are we going to do about Quoth? He helped me set up the book club meeting, and he stayed to serve tea to the ladies. They’re all going to mention him in their statements, which means the police will want to interview him. It’s all my fault! I never should have allowed him to stay at the meeting.”
“Relax, gorgeous. We’ll deal with it. As soon as you started your crazy campaign to get Quoth recognized as an artistic genius, I organized him some papers. As far as the police are concerned, tomorrow they’ll be interviewing Mr. Allan Poe, an itinerant painter from Norwich with a passport, some dead parents, and his own Facebook profile. If Quoth can keep his feathers inside his skin, he’ll be fine.”
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Thank you, Morrie.”
“I know. I’m a genius. I’m already planning exactly how you can thank me. It involves a blindfold and a flogger.”
An ache spread between my legs. “What’s a flogger?”
“One day soon, you’re going to find out.”
I rang off, my heart hammering for an entirely different reason.
After we finished our drinks, Jo offered me a lift home. She stood in front of her fancy new car, a Nissan Leaf, jangling the keys in her hand. Old, familiar shame welled up inside me. “It’s fine. It’s a nice night. I’d rather walk.”
“You’re not walking throughthatneighborhood in the dark on your own. I’m giving you a ride, and that’s an order.”
My breath hitched. “How do you know where I live?”
“You were the leading suspect in a murder investigation. I know far too much about you.” Jo flung open the door. “Get in.”
I glanced up. A black raven sat on the guttering opposite the pub, two beady brown eyes trained on mine.I’ll be watching you,a silky voice reverberated in my head. Quoth took his duties seriously, but I couldn’t tell Jo that.
Jo sighed. “If you get in the car, I’ll let you know what I find out about the arsenic, as long as you promise not to pass on any information I tell you. Technically, I’m not supposed to be telling you details of an active murder investigation, but what good are friends if we can’t dish the dirt to each other?”
My hands trembled, because I’ already told Morrie about the arsenic. But I slid in beside her and pretended to zip my lips. “Exactly. Your secrets are safe with me.”
Jo grinned. “Good. And I promise not to tell anyone you’re a filthy polyamorous harlot.”
“Deal.” We shook on it. Jo pulled away from the curb and drove out of the village proper, onto the council estate. The quaint thatched cottages and pristine gardens gave way to shabby brownstones and brutalist concrete towers and streets littered with rubbish. A police siren wailed in the distance. My fingers dug into the armrest.
“It’s fine,” Jo said, breezing through the neighborhood. “I don’t care where you come from, only who you are. Now, which one’s your house?”
Numb, I pointed to the last door at the end of a block of tiny flats. A stack of crumpling wobbleator boxes leaned against the side of the fence. Mum’s car sat in the driveway. Panic shot up my spine.Please don’t come outside and try to sell Jo animal dictionaries.
“Cute place,” Jo said. “I love the conservatory.”
“That’s my bedroom,” I choked out, shoving the door open before Jo came to a stop. “No need to walk me up.”
“Mina—”
“Talk to you tomorrow.” I slid out of Jo’s car and sprinted up the steps. On the porch, I fumbled with my keys, slipped through the door, and slammed it behind me. I watched through the faded curtain as Jo pulled away. When her taillights disappeared around the corner, I let out the breath I’d been holding.
Mum stood in the hallway, arms folded, a terrifying expression on her face. “What time do you call this?”
I glanced behind her at the clock on the microwave. “Mum, it’s 8:15.Eastendershasn’t even started yet.”
