Page 38 of A Dash of Wolf

His smile faded, and his eyes shifted to her cat before coming to rest on her again. “What is it?”

“I need you to listen. And I need you not to get upset.”

The change in him was immediate. His jaw tightened, his shoulders squared, and the warmth in his eyes cooled into something careful and professional. She watched it happen and hated every second of it. “Are you and Princess Muffin Top the vandals?”

“No!” She took a breath. “But I know who is. I have them waiting outside.”

“Is that so?”

Mason rose, and she quickly stepped back into the main area of the station, motioning for Mrs. Abernathy in front of the window. He sidled up next to her as Princess Muffin Top jumped up onto Cassie’s chair.

The front door opened, and Mrs. Abernathy walked in. She was still wearing her lavender cardigan and her house slippers, her purse clutched in both hands, and she looked exactly like what she was...a ninety-seven-year-old witch who had absolutely no business being in a police station on a Sunday evening.

“Hello, Chief,” Mrs. Abernathy said pleasantly.

Mason stared at her. Then he looked at Adeline. Then back at Mrs. Abernathy.

“Seriously?” he said. “You’re the vandal?”

Mrs. Abernathy smiled. “I prefer the term ‘activist with advanced glitter capabilities.’ But yes, dear. It was me.”

“For the record,” Princess Muffin Top said, “I had nothing to do with it. But I wish I had.”

16

“Let’s start at the beginning,” Mason said.

He led Mrs. Abernathy to the chair across from his desk in the main area and then pulled out his own chair. Adeline stood near the window with her arms crossed, and Princess Muffin Top sat on Casswell’s desk as she looked at him like a furry, judgmental gargoyle. The station was empty except for the four of them, thankfully.

He should have seen this coming. He really should have. He’d been so focused on ruling out Adeline that he’d never even considered the centenarians. Why would he? They came from an assisted-living facility. They showed up in Miss Moody’s Isetta, and then went home when the protests were over. He’d assumed they were supervised, accounted for, and tucked into bed by eight o’clock with a cup of tea and a crossword puzzle.

He’d assumed wrong. “Tell me everything.”

Mrs. Abernathy folded her hands on top of the purse in her lap. “The first time was the battery cables after Adeline’s first arrest. I waited until after midnight. My room is on the second floor, so I used a levitation spell to lower myself off my balcony. The facility has electric mopeds for the residents to use during the day. Cute little things that hardly make any noise. I borrowed one. Zipped out to the construction site, disconnected the cables, zipped back, and used another levitation spell to get back up to my balcony. I was in bed before anyone was the wiser.”

Mason stared incredulously at her. A ninety-seven-year-old witch who levitated off balconies, rode electric mopeds through the dark to a marsh, and then dismantled heavy equipment with the expertise of a trained mechanic. He definitely hadn’t seen that one coming. She must have read the look on his face because she continued with her story.

“My Henry owned a mechanic shop for sixty-three years,” she said. “Not here in Moonlight Bay, but in another supernatural town.” She gave him a saucy grin. “I can take apart an engine blindfolded, Chief. And those new-model Caterpillars aren’t as complicated as they look once you know where the battery housing is.”

“And the glitter?” he asked.

Her eyes actually sparkled. “Just like I told Adeline. I knew pink would drive Ivan crazy. It was a double-layer iridescent pink with a disappearing spell. I put it on both his bulldozer and his truck. Just to annoy him.”

“And you did all of this...” Mason leaned forward. “While letting everyone believe Adeline was responsible.”

Mrs. Abernathy glanced at Adeline, and something soft crossed her face. “I’ve already told this part to Adeline, but I’ll tell you now.” She turned back to him. “I saw the sparks between you two. Reminded me of me and my Henry long, long ago. He was a bear shifter, and because of that, my family nearly disowned me for it.” She shrugged. “I figured if Adeline kept getting arrested, it would keep putting the two of you together. And the marsh needed saving, young man. No matter what, those squish-squids and the entire marsh land need to be protected.” She shrugged, laughter dancing in her eyes. “And if I could accomplish all those things—save the marsh and squish-squids, get under Ivan’s skin, and push you two together—then I figured I’d done a good thing.”

He sat back in his chair. And there it was. The thing that had been clawing at him since Adeline had walked through the door and announced she needed to tell him something.

He wasn’t angry at Mrs. Abernathy. He understood her. He didn’t agree with what she’d done or how she’d done it, but he understood the why of it...the frustration, the conviction, the refusal to stand by while something you loved was destroyed. He’d felt the same thing plenty of times during his years with PADA. Sometimes the law moved too slowly. He got it.

He wasn’t angry. He was hurt.

How long had Adeline known before she came to his office tonight? An hour? A day? She’d sat in her bakery eating a brownie and working it out while he was driving past her window wondering if she was okay. She’d let him kiss her. She’d let him run his finger down her cheek and call her amazing. And the whole time, had she known who the vandal really was? Did she not trust him enough to tell him? Or had she kept it secret for other reasons? No matter what the answers were…it was still a betrayal of sorts.

That was the thing that sat like a stone in his chest. He’d spent so many years with PADA keeping everyone at arm’s length. No attachments, no roots, no one close enough to hurt him or be hurt because of him. And then he’d come to Moonlight Bay and met a stubborn, flour-dusted kitchen witch who smelled like vanilla and sugar and who threw mud at trolls. And he’d thought—for the first time in his life—that maybe he could stop running and let someone in.

And all along she’d kept this from him. Why? Was she afraid of what he’d do? Afraid of him? But he’d never given her a reason to be afraid. Or maybe he had. What really did he know about her? He’d obviously read her wrong. She’d told him herself, on the first day he’d arrested her that she rarely took anything seriously. Maybe this was just another thing she didn’t take seriously. The investigation. The law. Him.