At that moment, the lights flickered slightly, and a shadow stretched across the wall. Eugene’s dark shape flowed downward like spilled ink, and then—it changed.
The shadow formed the silhouette of a tiny man in a trench coat. A detective with his hat tilted low, collar turned up, and a magnifying glass raised dramatically.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Tulip leaned forward in her chair.
“Is he… doing shadow puppets?”
Sandy gasped softly. “Oh my gosh.”
The detective silhouette adjusted its hat and scanned the room with exaggerated seriousness.
Declan stared up at the wall, delighted. “Has he done that before?”
“No,” Elwood said.
George popped up out of Elwood’s pocket and began making a chattering noise that seemed to be directed towards the shadow detective, or I guess towards Eugene, since he was the shadow detective. The detective froze and looked right in George’s direction before nodding enthusiastically. George scurried down Elwood’s shirt and then down his pants leg before jumping clear and landing on the floor. He stopped right in front of the detective, stood up on his back legs, then fell dramatically backward, landing on his back, legs splaying out in all four directions.
We all gasped, but George lifted his head, and I swear to you, he winked at us. The freaking mouse winked before dropping his head back and resuming his death pose. The detective used his magnifying glass to examine thedeadbody.
Elwood let out a deep sigh and then said, “Eugene.”
The shadow detective froze.
“No one has been murdered.”
The shadow puppet show collapsed.
Sandy covered his mouth. “Oh no.”
Tulip reached up and patted the wall sympathetically. “Poor Eugene.”
Declan was still staring at the wall in awe, and I understood why. I’d never seen Eugene that animated before, and I was glad he’d shown that to us. Declan leaned toward me with a quiet smile. “Do you think Eugene’s disappointed there’s no need for a murder board?”
“Very.”
He chuckled softly, and Elwood cleared his throat bringing the meeting back on track.
“As Declan was saying, Ivan’s beer was hexed. The spellwork was crude but effective. Unfortunately, the contents of the hex bag haven’t given us any new leads.”
Hazel pursed her lips thoughtfully. “A young witch, perhaps.”
“Or an idiot,” Az muttered.
Tulip cracked her knuckles. “Either way, we should find them.”
“No hunting,” Elwood warned.
Tulip rolled her eyes.
Declan rubbed his arms. “The magic in the beer felt wrong,” he admitted quietly. “Like something crawling under my skin.”
Several heads turned toward him, and Elwood nodded approvingly. “That’s your instincts developing.”
Declan looked a little embarrassed by the attention.
But I was proud of him. He’d sensed the corruption in the beer almost immediately. For someone who’d only discovered his magic a few weeks ago, that wasn’t beginner’s luck.
