A long staff covered in crystals protruded from his stomach. I recognized the staff from the photograph of Kate at the FanCon cosplay awards. Someone had thrust it inside him with so much force it had pinned him to the floor and splattered his blood across the walls and ceiling.
Dave had been murdered.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Explain to me how you know Dave Danvers,” Jo demanded as she pulled on her PPE. Behind her, Hayes and Wilson roped off the home with crime scene tape. Normally, they wouldn’t be here, as this case would be under the jurisdiction of Loamshire CID, but they’d been called in because of the connection to Kate’s murder.
I stood on the edge of the crime scene, my coat pulled high around my neck as my best friend glared at me like she couldn’t trust a word I said. “You’re not sticking your nose into Morrie’s investigation, are you? I told you that won’t help him, and I could get into real trouble if—”
“Don’t worry, I got to Dave all on my own. I’d never dream of getting you in trouble.” I tried to smile at her, but she shook her head angrily.
“If you’re not careful, they’re going to start looking at you as an accomplice instead of a victim.” Jo narrowed her eyes. “Mina, I’m serious. I know you’re smart, and you’ve figured things out to do with murders before, and I know you’re worried about Morrie. I am, too. But the best thing you can do for him right now is to step back and let the police do their jobs. Don’t go down with Morrie for this.”
Her words stung. I staggered back as though she slapped me.It sounds as though Jo’s made up her mind that Morrie is guilty.I bit back a retort. Jo shot me one final glare, pulled on a pair of gloves, and whirled around to get to work. I turned away, nearly crashing into Wilson.
“Mina Wilde.” She said my name the way my mum did when I did something that disappointed her. “We need to talk.”
“Yes, we do. I don’t see why you’re here questioning me when you should be out there chasing down Tara Delphine. She ran from the house covered in blood!”
“I’m questioning you because your boyfriend is the chief suspect in a murder inquiry, and despite being told to stay out of things, you’ve shown up at the scene of a second murder claiming to know both the victim and another possible suspect.” Wilson fired questions at me thick and fast. This wasn’t the delicate way Hayes had questioned me following Morrie’s kidnapping. She had no patience. She thought I had something to do with Dave’s murder. I couldn’t say I blamed her.
When Wilson finally finished with me, I slunk across the road and sank into the park bench beside Heathcliff. Quoth still hadn’t returned, and the police, thankfully, hadn’t noticed Heathcliff sitting there or they’d be all over him, too.
“That went well,” Heathcliff remarked.
“You’re not funny.” I could still see Dave’s body in my mind – his horrified expression, the arc of blood across the walls, the staff still quivering in his chest. I shuddered.
Heathcliff turned to me. Beneath his shaggy hair, his dark eyes twinkled with dark humor. He reached across and squeezed my knee. “Go on, then. I know you’re dying to theorize about what happened here. Normally you and Morrie would be shouting theories at each other, so go on – give me your best interpretation.”
“Shouldn’t we find Quoth first?”
“He’s over there.” Heathcliff pointed to a low-hanging tree on the end of the lane. “Sitting in the tree, eavesdropping on your favorite Detective Inspector over there. He circled back to the house a while ago, while you and Jo were glaring at each other. I’m guessing he lost the girl’s trail.”
“As long as he’s safe.” I cleared my throat, sitting up straighter. Heathcliff knew me too well – putting the pieces of the crime together helped me to push through the horror of what I’d seen. “We start with the facts. Dave was going to tell me the truth about his wife’s death, but someone killed him before I arrived. That means three things are true. One – up until his death, Davehadn’ttold the truth about his wife. Two – Dave was killed to keep him from revealing the murderer’s identity. Three – the murderer overheard Dave’s phone call to me and was known to Dave because the front door was open, and Dave let her in.”
“We’re assuming it’s a her?” Heathcliff raised a bushy eyebrow.
“Tara Delphine ran from the scene moments before I arrived, covered in his blood, and trust me when I say that horrible act had only just been committed.” Another thought occurred to me. “You could be right, though. Either Tara murdered Dave, or she saw who did. There were pink boots beside the door – women’s boots. And a cooler bag with a bottle of wine and some crackers and Brie. I think Dave has a girlfriend.”
“Tara?”
I grimaced. “I can’t picture it, not after what she did to Kate. But that might explain why she was at his house. The whole situation is fucked up, and people do weird things, so we can’t rule it out. But now that I consider it, there’s another option, too. Tara might not have been running because she was the murderer. Maybe she was running to get away from the murderer, who slipped in the doorway after Dave opened it for her.”
“Who else could have killed him?”
“I need to test a theory.” I picked up my phone and dictated a message to Morrie. “Is Sherlock with you?”
Quoth settled on my shoulder, peering down at my phone screen.She seemed terrified, but whether that was because she witnessed a murder, or because she didn’t want to get caught is not something I could speculate on. I followed her for eight blocks until she got in a rideshare and I lost her. I have the plate number, which might help Morrie track the vehicle. The police are out searching for her now, but they’re also debating holding you overnight for questioning. Wilson is for it, Hayes against.
I lifted my finger to my lips. A few moments later, a text came back. “He’s out following a lead and left me here all by my lonesome. I’m amusing myself by mismatching all his socks. When he gets back, you might see his head explode all the way from Argleton.”
“Can you find out where he’s gone? It’s important.”
Quoth peered at me with wide, orange-rimmed eyes – he immediately comprehended what I was considering.
A moment later, Morrie sent me a link, which opened a pin on my map – a pin moving along the street only three blocks from Dave Danvers’ house.
“Croak!” Quoth lifted off my shoulder and swooped toward the trees. Heathcliff leaped to his feet, grabbed my arm, and dragged me around the corner. “Funnel him this way, birdie. We’ll cut him off.”
