“I agree,” Lydia said. “It’s up to you, Peter.”
He said nothing for a moment, trying to decide which would be the lesser of two evils. What decided him, finally, was the thought of the Clarks, Pastor Hattington and all his other neighbors going without.
“Yes,” he said, gazing at Beatrix. “Let’s do it.”
Her eyes shone. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“We’ll brew in this room, and you’ll put a tripwire spell on it,” he added. “If anyone crosses it, you’ll feel it—no matter where you are.”
“Is there a way to set it to trip for everyone but us?”
He shook his head. “I’ll keep the room empty unless we’re going in together. The tripwire’s just an extra precaution—you’ll still cast the usual protection spells with the lights off.”
She nodded.
He turned to her sister and Miss Dane. “That’s satisfactory?”
“God alone knows,” Miss Dane said, but she didn’t demur.
“Yes,” Lydia said. “I?—”
She stopped at the sound of another knock on the door, this one not the sort you could miss. The sheer assertiveness of it made him nervous, and apparently it had a similar effect on the others: In wordless agreement, they all went down the stairs together.
It was Detective Tanner.
“Good morning,” Peter said, stepping aside to let the man in, adrenaline hitting like a wallop to the chest.
“Omnimancer, Miss Harper,” the policeman said. “There’s been a development.”
“Won’t you please sit down?” Beatrix said, her voice too high, a sign that they were thinking the same thing. Had Tanner found Garrett’s body?
And now, justnow, when there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, Peter realized how likely this was. Simplicity itself for Miss Draden. She’d moved the body; sheknew where it was. Call the police anonymously, tip them off—she wouldn’t even have had to suggest who did it, because he would obviously be the prime suspect. Why hadn’t he thought of this? He should have been preparing, figuring out a plan?—
“I thought you should hear it from me first.” Tanner sat in the receiving room. “We’re charging Wizard Garrett in absentia. Two counts of attempted murder and various related offenses.”
Peter stared at him, too dazed and relieved to say a word.
“I’m very glad to hear it,” Miss Dane said. “About time.”
Beatrix said, “Have you … that is, are you any closer to …”
“To finding him?” Tanner sighed. “It’s fiendishly difficult tracking a wizard. But we’ve frozen his bank accounts and taken other measures to contain what he can do. We’ll get him eventually.”
Beatrix nodded, hands twisting in her lap. He wondered how she must feel, forced by Miss Draden into a criminal act—withholding evidence about a murder.
But it wasn’t the first criminal act she’d been forced into, was it. In that case—casting spells for her job, day after day—the blame lay with him.
He cleared his throat. “What should we be doing?”
Tanner leaned in. “Same as before. Inform us if you have any clues to his whereabouts. Call immediately if you believe he’s in town.”
“What happens now?” Lydia asked.
“A press conference to announce the news.” The detective gave them an apologetic glance. “Every day, we geta dozen or more calls from reporters, all asking, ‘Any developments yet?’”
Peter bit back a groan. “When are you holding it? I think we’d better join you.”
“What?” Beatrix looked horrified.
