We stared. For Didi, hesitation was practically an alien concept.
“When I was looking up theAshgrove coven’s connections, I found an overlap I wasn’t expecting,” Didi admitted reluctantly.
My wolf’s instincts kicked in. “Melody Flowers.”
Samuel shot me a surprised look. Gavin’s horns popped out fully.
Didi nodded. “Three former members of the Ashgrove coven left about six months ago. They joined a different coven. Melody’s.”
Samuel stilled. I could feel his wolf rising through the bond, alert and dangerous.
“That could be a coincidence,” Gavin offered weakly.
Didi’s expression clouded. “In my experience, coincidences are just patterns that haven’t been explained yet.”
I frowned. Didi was right.
Melody had stepped into the Lincoln sisters’ Alliance seat with a smile and a convenient story about them needing a vacation. Yet her behavior at Coven Headquarters had revealed an altogether sinister alternative for that sequence of events. I chewed my lip.
Was Melody being blackmailed too?
“We need to talk to her,” I told Samuel.
“Agreed.” His face darkened. “But not at Coven Headquarters. We should visit her at home.”
That made sense. Melody had acted as if the walls had ears at Coven Headquarters.
“Let’s drop by her place tomorrow morning.” Samuel tapped a finger on the table. “In the meantime, keep pulling on the financial thread and the Ashgroveconnection. If Melody is involved, I want to know how deep it goes before we confront her.” He looked past my shoulder and grimaced. “We should probably let Gavin go home for the day.”
The dragon newt was snoring softly with his eyes open.
“That’s freaky,” Bo huffed.
21
PUPPET STRINGS
Melody Flowers livedin a two-story white clapboard cottage on the outskirts of Amberford’s historic district.
It was the sort of house that belonged on a postcard; window boxes, a wraparound porch, climbing roses on a trellis. Except the roses were brown and withered and the window boxes held plants that looked like they’d given up the will to live sometime last week. Even the welcome mat seemed to be having an existential crisis.
“That garden’s seen better days,” Bo observed in the tone of an expert horticulturist from his position in the back seat.
“New Discovery channel?” Samuel muttered.
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh.
Samuel pulled the Bentley to a stop across the street. He hadn’t said much on the drive over and the mate bond was running hot with the focused,controlled energy that meant his wolf was very close to the surface.
“We should go easy on the threats,” he said as he cut the engine. “We need her to cooperate.”
“Should we do the good-cop-bad-cop thing?” Bo asked hopefully.
“No,” Samuel and I both said.
Bo tilted his head. “I mean, it’s not like I’m suggesting we use the handcuffs in Abby’s bedside drawer.”
I had the decency to blush.
