“Thanks, Viv. It’s a work in progress. Have fun on your haunting.”
She snarled and headed for the door. “Open a window before that smell ingrains itself in the walls and the value of my house goes down.”
“Will do!” I wiggled my fingers and measured a fresh scoop of iron dust.
The front door clicked shut, and I leaned back in my chair to survey the mess. I’d needed something to distract me while Derrick presented our findings to the king. He’d left early in the morning and had already been gone half the day. I still couldn’t believe we had a name. Seeing the look of relief on Ella’s face had been humbling. She’d placed her trust in me, and I hadn’t failed her.
I couldn’t begin to imagine what Derrick was going through. After all these years, to finally learn the name of his sister’s killer, it must be eating him alive. He’d decided to wait to notify his family, wanting to be sure before he got their hopes up. I didn’t blame him. It would be a crushing blow to come this far and not apprehend the culprit.
The hanging beads swayed together, and I pushed aside the clay pot, doing my best to frantically clear the air. “Did you forget something, Viv?”
“It’s just me, Tessa.” Abrams stood in the entryway, his hands twisting the brim of his cap. “Shift change. I sent the other officer home.”
“Really? Vivian will be disappointed when she gets back. I think she liked him the best.”
“How long will she be gone?”
I pursed my lips and started cleaning off the séance table. “Couple hours. Unless the ghost is chatty, then who knows?”
Abrams nodded absently, his gaze wandering the room. “I heard you discovered the name of the killer. I’m impressed.”
My hand hovered over the basket of crows’ feathers. “I didn’t realize Derrick told you.”
Abrams chuckled. “Why wouldn’t he tell me? I used to help all the time with his cases before you came along. I always knew what was happening at the agency. Every little thing.”
Unease made my palms itch. “That’s right. He always speaks very highly of you.”
“Funny, how he only talks about you now. No hard feelings.” Abrams lifted his shoulders in an easy shrug. The move contrasted with his tone. His boots were silent as he approached, crowding me against the table. “How about we have that glass of wine you promised me a while back? It will be our secret. We’re so good at keeping secrets. Another won’t hurt, will it? Can I share one more with you?”
“Actually, I think Vivian finished the last bottle. You know how she—”
“You mean, this one?” Abrams held up the full bottle he found sitting next to a bowl of incense.
The pop of the cork echoed in my ears as he pulled it open and was followed by an odd silence while I waited for him to face me again. He was taking a long time, each second making my dread sharpen.
“Let me get some glasses.” I edged around the table.
“No need.” Abrams blocked my path to the kitchen, tipping the mouth of the bottle in my direction. “Cheers, Miss Daniels, you did it. You solved the murder. Well done. There’s just one problem.”
I stepped back and bumped the table, rattling the potion ingredients.
“You’re not going to drink? I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He flashed his teeth. “You know, Helen wouldn’t drink either. Can you imagine the look on her face when I unlocked her cell door? She was all alone…no other officers around…kind of like you, right now.”
I closed my fingers around a feather. Unbelievable! Why did all of my potions call for feathers? An amethyst spike would be so helpful right now.
“You killed Helen? What about Liam Barber?”
“They needed to be killed. Again, kind of like you, Miss Daniels.” He swung the bottle.
My arms came up, taking the force, and pain exploded in my forearm, radiating all the way to my shoulder. Elderberry wine poured from the mouth as he swung the bottle again. This time, I ducked, sliding in the blood-red liquid.
Abrams crushed my ribcage where he snaked an arm around my middle. A rag was clamped over my mouth, and I sucked in a breath of sweet-scented air.
Poison.
Trying to get leverage against the table, I used my feet to push us back. Abrams staggered and adjusted his hold. I drew in another sugary breath, dizziness flooding my vision. My lungs ached from trying to keep the poison from filling them further.
The room dimmed. I breathed again. This time, it was soothing, like drifting away on clouds. Reaching up, I grabbed his arm, the action weak. My fingers slid down his bicep, grazing a raised mark.
