“What is it?” Edward asked.
Only the most amazing thing in the world!I crushed the book to my chest, closing my eyes in wonder. The scent of worn parchment and leather filled my nose, and I breathed in the heavenly aroma.
“It’s a grimoire,” I answered reverently. “An instructional manual for magic. There’s a little of everything in here. They’re extremely rare and slightly outlawed because of their questionable content. This has to be what Mae was looking for.”
I opened the book, turning the pages slowly. I paused when I caught a glimpse of an intriguing spell before Derrick cleared his throat and gestured for me to continue. I scrunched my nose.Spoilsport.When I reached one hundred twenty-seven, I stopped. It was the title page for potions.
Air deflated from my lungs. It wasn’t enough. If Mae was searching for a specific potion, it would be impossible to tell. There were probably a hundred spells listed. It could be any of them.
“It’s a dead end. We need another clue.”
Derrick sat on the bed, deep in thought. He picked up the shipping ledger and scanned it again. “How does this fit?” Long minutes passed while he stared at the entries. Then his head came up, and he snapped his fingers. “Bring the light closer.”
“What did you find?” I held the candle for him while he pointed to the column running down the side of the page.
“See these figures? Look at the handwriting. It’s very similar to the entries on the left, but it’s not exact. It’s almost as if someone tried to copy the style. The problem is that if someone changed the dollar amounts, it would have to have been after the accountant filled in the forms. There’d be some evidence of that, but this is too clean.”
“Maybe there is evidence!” Excitement thrummed through my veins as an idea formed. “Rub your fingers over the paper. How does it feel?”
“Slippery, as if there’s some residue. Could ink do that?”
“Not by itself.” I returned to the grimoire and nervously turned the pages. If what I suspected was true, it would change everything. Stopping at a specific potion, I jabbed the title with my finger. “Look—here. Vanishing ink. A potion like this would cause anything written with it to disappear. Then someone could go back in and enter whatever they wanted.”
“So the documents could be forged? Is there a way to tell for certain?” Derrick asked.
“Yes. I can reverse the potion and make the original ink reappear permanently.” I returned to the grimoire and read from its contents. “I have all the powders I’ll need in my room, but I’ll also need something acidic and a heat source.” I met Derrick’s gaze and gave him a confident grin. “Something tells me murder wasn’t the only crime committed at Fairwood.”
Chapter 13
Derrick placed the grimoire and shipping ledger on the desk in his father’s study while I unpacked my vials of powder. Next, he cut a lemon he’d gathered from the kitchen and squeezed the juice into a small dish.
“Make sure to heat the iron. I’ll need it after I apply the mixture,” I said, motioning to Edward.
He picked it up and rested it in the burning coals of the hearth.
Using the measurements listed in the grimoire, I filled a glass jar and capped the lid, then I shook the contents until well mixed.
Both men were silent while I prepared the concoction. In truth, I was a little self-conscious and slightly afraid it wouldn’t work. What if nothing appeared when I applied the heat? We’d be back to the beginning, and blame could shift my way again. I couldn’t let that happen. Mae deserved justice no matter how she was involved, and I wasn’t about to go to prison for something I didn’t do.
Finished with the mixture, I uncapped the lid on the powder and sprinkled the substance over the document. The powder had a slight sheen to it, and the pages glimmered in the candlelight. It also had a metallic smell that wrinkled my nose. Selecting a round brush from my leather satchel, I spread the powder evenly across the surface of the paper.
It was time for the lemon.
I dipped the tips of my fingers into the bowl, coating them with the acidic juice. Then, careful not to drip any on the desk, I flicked my fingers over the parchment, dampening the powder. I went back to the bowl multiple times until the mixture had reached the right consistency.
“What I’m doing now is setting the ink so once it reappears, it won’t vanish again. It disables the reaction that causes the disappearance.”
While I whispered a series of words, waiting for the lemon juice to soak in, Edward leaned forward and asked if the incantation was part of the spell. A half-smile spread across my lips. Actually, it was a mystical plea for everything to work out in my favor, but I let him think otherwise to give the magic a little more credence.
“Now, the heat.” I gestured for the iron, and Edward retrieved it from the coals.
Placing it just above the surface of the paper, I allowed the heat to radiate into the mixture. The substance gave off a little sizzle as I moved the iron slowly over the page.
“Well, would you look at that?” Edward whistled and nudged Derrick in the ribs. “Fascinating!”
A whole new row of entries appeared next to the visible column. In some places, the figures overlapped, but in others, it was easy to make out what they should have been. The accounting ledger had been doctored, the amounts changed to make the company’s profits appear less than what they were. It was proof that someone was skimming the rest and keeping it for themselves.
I thought back to the ledgers I saw Cynthia take to Harold and wondered if those had all been doctored as well. How far back did the thievery go? It could be months, maybe longer. There was no telling how much money the company had lost due to forged accounting, but one thing was certain: Mae was involved, and it was likely the reason for her murder.
