“You were?” Jane asked.
Darcy, coming to a stop next to Charles, scowled at him, and I scowled at Darcy. Was he angry with his friend for ignoring his warning about Jane and her riffraff family?
“I’m sorry about your mom, Jane. How are you doing?” Charles asked.
“About as well as expected.” She shrugged. “We’re hoping to get some answers today, since none of this makes sense.”
“Some of it makes sense.” I glared at Darcy.
His dark eyes met mine in a fierce scowl. “I couldn’t agree more.”
The air crackled between us. Was he really that conceited that he had no qualms about framing an innocent woman for his crime simply because he believed he was above her?
“You have to admire someone who holds to their convictions so firmly even when they’re completely wrong.” I gave Darcy a tight smile. “Come on, Jane. We need to check on Mom.”
“Wait.” Charles caught her hand. “Can I get your number? I’d like to see you again.”
Jane blushed and gave it to him, then caught up to me as an officer escorted us down a narrow corridor with wide fluorescent lights.
I could believe that Charles wanted to check on Jane, but why had Darcy come? Didn’t all the true-crime shows say that criminals like to insert themselves into an investigation to monitor how it was progressing? Maybe that was what was happening.
We passed two officers, who cut off their whispered conversation, but not before I caught the words “vampire.” After walking by a few more closed doors, we finally made it to a room guarded by another officer with a dark mustache. As we walked in, Mom jumped up and rushed to Jane. “What’s happening with Charles?”
Jane and I exchanged a look. Mom could be on her deathbed and her first concern would still be to make sure her daughters were married.
“He got my number,” Jane admitted with a small smile.
“That’s my beautiful girl.” Mom squealed and pulled Jane into a hug.
I cleared my throat. “Why haven't they released you yet, Mom?”
She shrugged. “They seem to think I’m guilty of murder, but I’m not sure why.”
“Did you give them your alibi?” I put my hands on my hips.
“I did.” She pursed her lips. “But I guess someone talked to the chief and insisted he look into things more thoroughly before they let me go.”
My temper flared. “Who—” I choked as the knowledge hit me. My journalist instincts screamed at me who thatsomeonemust’ve been. It also explained what he was doing here. Even if I had somehow misunderstood what happened in the Portent, Darcy had lied about his magic and meddled with Mom’s alibi. That wasn’t something that someone with nothing to hide did.
I didn’t care who Darcy was or what he was doing in Austen Heights. I’d prove that stuck-up, meddling fae’s guilt if it was the last thing I did.
Chapter 7
WebroughtMomhome,which was good since her absence was hard on Dad. I also filled Riley in on everything that had happened at the club, although it wasn’t necessary since news was already spreading around town.
Over the next two days, I spent most of my free time digging into Easton Hancock, Charles Bingley, and Darcy. While there were articles and pictures about Charles all over the web, I could hardly find anything about his murderous friend “Darcy”—if that was even his real name. And while the false name might explain why I couldn’t find anything online, it also brought a slew of questions bubbling to the surface like a cauldron over a fire.
“Thanks for letting me come with you, Jane.” I inhaled the crisp scent of autumn air and smoke from a small bonfire at the Autumn Festival. “I needed to cover the festival for work anyway, so it’ll be more fun to come with you.” When research had gotten me nowhere, I’d invited myself on Jane’s date using work as an excuse.
“Of course. I’m glad you said something. We’re going to have a blast.” Jane squeezed my hand and pulled me deeper into the crowd. “You’re going to love Charles.”
“I’m sure I will. He seems cool,” I said. “Just the fact that he recognized how amazing you were at the club guarantees that I’ll like him.”
Jane’s smile widened. “I was so surprised when he asked me to dance again.”
I sighed dramatically. “That is the difference between us. Compliments, even ones that are well deserved, always surprise you, but the true mystery would’ve been if Charles hadn’t asked you to dance again. I give you permission to like him. He doesn’t suck.”
She giggled. “You’re ridiculous.”
