“Yes, you are,” Sandy said matter-of-factly. “But I do want to know who’s doing all this so we can stop them.”
“Isn’t that what I just said?” Tulip pouted and crossed her arms.
“I’d like to figure out what’s going on, too,” I said. “Yesterday scared me.”
Gideon squeezed my hand. He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand in small soothing circles.
Elwood nodded. “It scared me, too. So, unless anyone else would like to talk about something else first…” He waited a long moment. When no one spoke, he nodded. “Okay, perhaps we should turn our attention to Roy’s murder and what happened yesterday. It seems unlikely they aren’t connected.”
“I know we aren’t the police, but having more people trying to figure this out can’t hurt, right?” The group nodded at me.
“Since I still think the hexes had a role to play in this whole mess, I’m obliged to investigate,” Elwood said. “Nadia confessed to making the hexes, and obviously she wasn’t the shooter, but?—”
“Her new little girl decided it was time to make an appearance yesterday,” Hazel interrupted. “Roya Grace is a darling. I’m making this for her.” She held up a small blanket with pastel green and yellow stripes. “That baby girl and her momma need a little extra love right now.”
While Hazel had been talking, Eugene pushed the murder board closer to the table. We all turned to look at it.
“Let's go through everything we know,” I said. It felt empowering to do something instead of waiting for another shot to be fired. “What have we found out since the last time we met?”
Eugene was drawing shadow circles around something on the murder board.
“What’s Eugene pointing at?”
Sandy was closest to the board, so he squinted at the paper Eugene seemed so excited about. “Oh. Eugene’s identified the people who’d made those posts on social media. FermentationFiend44 is Beckett, and GrainGeek71 is Malcolm.”
“That’s really helpful, Eugene,” I said, even as I wondered what kinds of laws he’d broken to find that out. It was probably better not to ask.
“We can eliminate a few people, including Beckett, obviously, as the possible gunmen, because we saw them at the finish line at the time of the shooting,” Gideon said.
“My gut or my magic or whatever is telling me Beckett was the target,” I said. “So I think that’ll help us figure out the motive.”
“Excellent,” Elwood said, sounding proud.
My cheeks heated, but I felt a little fluttering sensation in my stomach at his praise. “And as we were running to safety, I saw Kim and Caesar. Although, they weren't really suspects, right? Kim is moving her yoga studio, whether the sale goes through or not. And I don’t think Caesar could’ve faked his shock at finding out his boss was dead in that vat of beer.”
“Beckett told us Kettlebrook is going to choose between him and Donny for the contract,” Gideon said. “With Nadia telling everyone she stacked the odds in Roy’s favor, they don’t want to be connected to the bad publicity.”
Az snorted. When we all turned to him, he shrugged. “If they’re worried about bad publicity, they won’t want to choose Donny.” We must have looked confused, because he went on to add, “He’s a bookie over in Springside. Takes bets on just about anything and usually comes out on top.”
I wanted to ask how he knew that, but no one else seemed surprised. Did Az have a gambling problem? Did we need to stage an intervention? Or was it just a demon thing to know about shady people?
“The competitors who’d been hexed might be bitter they aren’t getting another opportunity to impress Kettlebrook, too,” Gideon said. “Although, I don’t think Tessa cares much, one way or the other. She has her pottery studio, and I get the sense that beer making is just a hobby for her.”
“But it isn’t a hobby for Ivan and Malcolm.” I said what we are all thinking. “Ivan has been vocal about how pissed he is. And Malcolm…” I sucked in a breath to steady my nerves. “I told Gideon this already, but sometimes I can see through Licorice’s eyes. It’s new, and I don’t know how it happens, but after the shooting, I… I saw someone—a man—running across a roof. I think it was the shooter. And I think…” I pushed my chair back. I crossed the room to the murder board and studied the picture Eugene had printed of Malcolm. I jabbed my fingerat the picture. “I was right… the t-shirt they were wearing had Malcolm’s brewery logo on it. I knew I recognized it.” The logo was distinctive with its bull’s-eye target.
Everyone stared at me for a long moment.
“Malcolm was upset,” Gideon said. “He’d banked on this competition turning his business around.”
“Then his beer didn’t get in front of the judges because his application was hexed,” Elwood continued where Gideon’s thoughts left off.
“Although anyone could have purchased his t-shirt,” Sandy said. “He was selling them at the festival last weekend.”
From the other room, the sound of Elwood’s printer coming on made me jump.
“Is someone else here?”
Before I could investigate, Gideon was out of his chair and charging into the other room. He returned a moment later, clutching a piece of paper. He frowned at Eugene. "Did you print this?”
