Deryn made the quotation mark gesture, then looked back at her phone.
“There’s another Dagmar, by the way, who is running the foundation currently. And their family history began in Salem in the 1660s…”
Paloma looked at the faces of the Crowharts in the room and suspected she was missing some context, as they were suddenly projecting suspicion and something akin to apprehension, if she was reading them correctly.
Magdalene was the first to speak.
“There’s always another Dagmar with these people. I have a meeting back at Dragons in twenty minutes. A vet is coming to see our cat about his corpulence. I am not looking forward to it.” Magdalene winced, and Paloma watched Deryn make a terrified face at the mention of the cat.
The Headmistress got up and extended her hand to Paloma. “I will not say congratulations, as I’m a little superstitious. But I will say that I will be throwing a party the night of the election, and believe me, it won’t be for John Moss. My wife sends her best. And Ms. Crowhart, I’m so glad you were not too seriously injured.” She nodded to Deryn and then quietly left the room.
“I will never understand how you all walk absolutely soundlessly on those stilts.” Victoria, who was watching Magdalene leave the room, turned back to look at Paloma’s Jimmy Choos. Purple suede today.
“We manage, Aunty.” Rhiannon stretched her legs, showing off her Louboutins. “Shoes aside, why do I have a feeling she left because she doesn’t want to hear about what we might talk about?”
“You mean magic? I sense that the Headmistress comes and goes as she pleases. And knows what she needs to know.” Prudence, who so far during this meeting had sat quietly by Rhiannon’s side, minced no words. “Also, Ceridwen spoke to Rhy and me about your theory that whoever is behind the attacks knows what the Crowharts are, since the focus on the family borders on obsession. And while Rhy has her doubts, I agree with you. Have you found anything on the security tapes from the resort?”
Paloma felt her chest tighten. She had gone through an array of emotions when her chief of security brought her the results of his ad hoc investigation—from anxiety to fear, before she settled squarely in the rage quadrant.
“Someone broke into my hotel and had enough skill to disable the cameras in the parking garage and on my floor.” She balled her fists. The gesture did not make her feel better, but she had to do something to at least take a little edge off the strength of her anger. Deryn could’ve died, and they might still never find out who was behind it.
“That’s…strange. So, they turned the cameras off?” Ceridwen leaned closer.
Paloma nodded. “Yes. There is about an hour of missing footage. The cameras were turned back on after the assailant left the premises. Why do you find it strange?”
“Because the cameras at the store were never disabled during the break-in. And while Pru doesn’t have any at her place, I do have external ones at mine, and there are shadows and static, but the cameras kept running through the incidents. The damage to the recording is significant enough to make it impossible to see who the person is. But still, I think it’s, at minimum, strange.” Ceridwen leaned back in her chair.
“And at maximum?” Deryn asked, and then immediately answered herself. “Oh, because these seem to be two completely different MOs.”
Paloma felt a shiver run down her spine. “You’re saying that there are two different perpetrators of violence on the island?”
Ceridwen chewed on her lower lip. “Maybe. However, there seems to be only one instance of true violence, and it took place here, at the resort. The break-ins have all been remarkably peaceful, if you don’t count some broken items here and there.”
“Peaceful? Someone torched my Atelier, broke half the shit in Prudence’s apartment?—”
“Yes, Rhy, and yet nobody died. And here, Deryn almost did.” Ceridwen looked Rhiannon dead in the eye, and the younger Crowhart mumbled but did not argue.
Paloma eventually broke the silence.
“So, the conclusion is that the Crowharts are targeted by the arsonist and burglar, but Deryn, individually, by a murderer?”
“Except I wasn’t supposed to be here at all. I made my decision on the spot after looking at the huts on the beach, of all things. I took Seren’s Jeep ’cause it was so cold outside that evening, and I was in no mood to ride the bike. None of these circumstances could’ve been foreseen. Me being a target here at the resort? Unlikely. You, however, make a lot more sense.”
Paloma lifted her eyebrow. “Me? You can’t be serious.”
Deryn set her jaw. “I very much am. You were always returning here; there was no question about it. And I have never spent a night here since we made…the agreement. So…”
Deryn fumbled a bit with her words, and Paloma found it endearing that she made sure she didn’t technically lie to her family but also did not tell the whole truth. The aforementioned words, however, held nothing endearing.
“You’re implying I’m a target of some sort? The only people I seem to be standing in the way of are?—”
“Those who want John Moss to be mayor, and after the fiasco of the debate, it was pretty clear that you’re going to win,” Deryn smirked, eyes full of pride.
“My win is still not guaranteed—” Paloma tried to argue.
“I’d say it’s in the bag.” Rhiannon motioned to the paper on the coffee table. “TheCawhas never done this, support anyone outright. And the latest poll was run by them specifically. I trust it. Honestly, it’s easy to have it spot on when you poll pretty much the entire voting contingent. It’s a small town, Ms. Allende, and if they say seventy-five percent are voting for you, they mean it. And I highly doubt there’d be a party at Dragons in your honor if Nox didn’t believe that strongly in you.”
“Be that as it may, it seems a bit incomprehensible to me that, in a town that hasn’t seen any kind of crime for years, so much is happening suddenly.”
