The cops had questioned us for over an hour before finally sending us home. They issued instructions to call the station if we remembered any new information, but I could tell they were convinced the death was a tragic accident.
Driving back to my dorm was a blur. Even though it was well after midnight, sleep was impossible. My mind raced from one suspicion to the next. This wasn’t your usual run-of-the-mill murder—assuming there was such a thing. Whoever was involved had wanted to make it look like an accident, and for the most part, they’d succeeded. Even with a hundred witnesses, no one saw a thing thanks to the power outage, and the local cops seemed more than happy to chalk the case up to an oversized ice sculpture catastrophe. A ridiculous conclusion to make considering the five foot four, willowy Professor Roberts couldn’t have bumped into the table hard enough for the sculpture to fall. No—tipping the sculpture would have likely taken superhuman strength or a heavy dose of magic.
Which was where the Spellwork Organization came in. They solved the cases the regular cops weren’t equipped to handle. Since Professor Roberts had been tagged with a demon mark, there was a strong possibility the organization would be interested in her case. I already suspected I might run into my cousin.
Angling my phone closer, I swiped over to my messages and pulled up Ivy’s name before tapping out a message.
Elle:Are you in town? We should get coffee.
I waited for a beat, and then added:
Elle:But only if you want to, and if you have time. You’re probably busy.
Another beat.
Elle:Which I totally understand! It was just an idea.
And then finally:
Elle:Hope we can get together soon!
Groaning, I flipped my phone over so I wouldn’t continue to text-ramble. I was already imagining the eye roll she’d give her phone when she read my messages. Ivy would get back to me or she wouldn’t. Either way, I shouldn’t get involved. But this was the first time I’d ever been so close to the organization that was steeped in my family’s history. The temptation to dig deeper was the reason for my morning research project.
I’d started my search in the local history books, looking for any information on supernatural activity in Thornbridge. There wasn’t much, though I did stumble across an old photo of Clarke Manor. The caption didn’t mention ghosts, and the brief article only detailed the manor’s construction as being one of the original buildings in town.
Still, studying the black-and-white photograph, I felt oddly drawn to the structure. There was something familiar about it. My eyesight blurred the longer I stared, and soon, the stacks of books faded away. Even the scent of my coffee dissipated. A shiver ran down my back as faint words floated in the air.
“We’re waiting for you . . . Come inside.”
I snapped the book closed, my heart pounding as I looked over my shoulder. I was still alone. Any ghostly invitation must have been my imagination. I rubbed my grainy eyes and sucked down some more coffee. Sleep was what I needed, not a wild-goose chase with ghosts.
“There you are!” Zoe appeared in front of me and slid into one of the study chairs. “I tried your dorm then figured I’d check the most likely places. I was going to try the waffle station in the cafeteria next.” She clutched a large coffee in both hands as if it were the answer to the world’s problems. Dark circles ringed her eyes. She’d probably gotten as much sleep as I had. None.
“Mmm, waffles. I need to get my priorities in line—I should have gone there first. How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Better. I still can’t believe what happened last night. First, you get fired, and then Professor Roberts . . .” Zoe stared at her hands. “That poor woman.”
“I know. I can’t stop thinking about it. I didn’t sleep at all.”
Zoe’s gaze roamed over my stack of books. She frowned. “So you thought you’d try to bore yourself unconscious with history books?”
“No. It’s just a project I’m working on. It’s a nice distraction.”
“I’d give anything for a distraction.” Tightening her grip around her coffee, Zoe shuddered. “Every time I close my eyes, I see her lying underneath that giant ice sculpture. How does something like that even happen?”
Trust me, you don’t want to know.
I fiddled with the plastic lid on my coffee. “The police think it was an accident.”
“Don’t you?”
My mind drifted back to the odd confrontation I’d seen in the hallway. Professor Roberts had been arguing with her coworker. I wished I was able to eavesdrop a little more and get an idea of what they were talking about. Arguing didn’t make Julia a killer, but it definitely raised some questions.
“It’s the simplest answer. But you didn’t notice anyone acting weird at the party, did you?”
“You mean, besides you? Did you really get fired for tripping Caden?”
I exhaled and leaned my chin on my fist. “I honestly don’t know what came over me. One moment we were talking, maybe even flirting—who knows; my radar for that kind of thing is terrible—then I was charging after him. It’s mortifying if you think about it, but I guess I’ll live, because it’s unlikely I’ll ever run into him again. He doesn’t go to school here, and we’re no longer coworkers.” I dusted my hands together as if it were that easy to banish his presence from my mind.
