I choked back tears and pressed a kiss to his temple. “We’ll be back soon. The other girls are covering the bakery, so you don’t have to worry about anything.” I pulled free and slipped out the door before a sob could escape.
No matter how many times I saw Dad like this, it never got easier. We were supposed to have so much longer with him. Fae had twice the lifespan of humans, and losing him so soon felt even crueler considering all the years that were being stolen from us.
I took a few minutes to pull myself together, then I went across the hall to the magical door that separated the living room from the bakery, making sure the knob showed blue.
As soon as I stepped through, a wave of warmth surrounded me. I couldn’t help but smile at the mouth-watering scents of pumpkin, cinnamon, and freshly baked raisin bread. Treats lined the shelves, like macaroonswhich glowed with different pastel colors, charmed chocolate fudge, and lavender moonbury scones, which were famous for helping people sleep.
A few customers sat at tables, the mismatched chairs giving the bakery an extra cozy feel, while an enchanted teapot floated around refilling their mugs.
A glance through the side door proved Kitty was in the backroom baking, her hands moving with practiced ease as she kneaded dough. Mary rang people up at the register, while Lydia chatted with customers at the counter. The only one missing was Mom, but not for long.
I ran a finger over the leathery spine of a cookbook on the shelf, which rested next to a spell book. Even if the police were trying to find something on Mom, they wouldn’t. We were careful not to sell any illegal potions like wolfsbane, even though it was stupid that wolfsbane was illegal. It wasn’t a werewolf’s fault if they were infected, and they should be able to get help for their condition.
I sighed and shook my head. That was a problem for another day. For now, I needed to focus on getting answers about Mom, and the only way to do that was to go to the station.
“Ready to go?” I asked Jane, who stood with her back to me, her blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun while she decorated a fancy cake.
“Let me finish this.” She finished frosting the pumpkin spice muffins and stepped back, glancing at the finished product with a critical eye before nodding. “All right. Let’s go.”
“Will you guys be okay on your own?” I asked Mary in a low voice.
“We’ll be fine. Just find out what’s happening with Mom.” She shooed me off as the front door jingled with the entrance of two more customers.
“Oh, Mother, I’m just so delighted we were able to come again!” Ms. Bate’s familiar voice filled the bakery. “It smells just as wonderful as ever, doesn’t it? I’m happy we had time today to get our usual loaf of sourdough and cinnamon rolls for the week. They are such a treat, aren’t they? A treat, Mother.”
I ducked behind the display case. Ms. Bates was one of Mom’s friends who came with her mother, Mrs. Bates, every Tuesday for her weekly dose of baked goods and gossip.
“Uh-oh. You better go if you want to get out of here while it’s still daylight,” Mary muttered to me.
“You’re a lifesaver.” I grabbed Jane and pulled her toward the door.
“Oh, and it’s such a pleasure to see the Bennets again! You know, I was just thinking the other day how long it’s been since we last visited, and how time flies, doesn’t it? But, everything here is so cozy and warm, just like when we came last week, wasn’t it? Such lovely people, the Bennets—so kind and welcoming, always a treat to catch up with you.”
Jane and I snuck out the door, grabbing our jackets in the living room, then slipping outside. That was one advantage of living in town—everything was within walking distance. We went back around the corner of the building to walk down Main Street. The trees blazed with fall colors, and as a gust of wind whipped down the street, the ocean’s briny smell replaced the sweet, sugary smells of the bakery.
“Why do you think the police haven’t released Mom yet?” Jane asked.
“I don’t know.” While theycouldhold her for twenty-four hours for questioning, why would they need to? Surely they would’ve realized by now that Mom didn’t have any helpful information.
I pulled out my notebook and flipped through my notes. I had the killer’s identity and the location of the murder—I’d confirmed that Netherfield was the right place last night. All I needed now was a little more information on Darcy to figure out the why. I’d circled the words Darcy, Netherfield, and three nights ago, then connected them with lines, but the giant question mark in the middle mocked me. I was still no closer to figuring out Darcy’s motive.
“Did Charles say if Darcy was also a highborn fae?” I asked.
Jane scrunched her nose and squinted in the bright morning sunlight. “He didn’t say, but I’d assume so. He has that air about him. Don’t you think?”
That pompous, thinks-he’s-better-than-everyone-else air? Yeah, I knew the one. “I do.” I shoved my notebook back into my bag with a sigh.
We turned onto a side street to get to the police station. The no-frills building—with its somber, weathered wood painted a faded white and the evergreens and maples flanking it—appeared as serious as the men and women who worked there.
We pulled open the heavy glass doors and stepped inside, but Jane stumbled to a stop before we even made it to the small reception desk.
“What’s wrong?” I peeked at her pale face.
“It’s Charles,” she whispered, her gaze never leaving the figure striding down the far end of the corridor.
I turned to examine him too, frowning at the sight of Darcy next to him. What washedoing here? Didn’t he worry about getting caught?
“Jane!” Charles rushed forward. He reached out like he wanted to touch her, but dropped his hand back to his side. “I was hoping to find you today.”
