Lazlo, behind them, stopped at the edge of the crowd. His hand came up to his mouth. "No, not Phineas," he said softly.
Far up the hill, Dean Martin crooned, "Sugar, three more."
Chapter 7
The Suspects
The town had been told to go home by the time Roam and Sean were ready to begin.
Sean had asked them to. Roam had asked Murphy to clear the square, and Murphy had done it. The pub was dark. Only Spellbinders, at the corner of the lane, still threw its lamplight out across the cobblestones, and the cobblestones still held what someone had left for them.
Sean was on one knee beside the body. "Aye," he said, without looking up. "Take the left side, I've got the right."
They worked the body for the better part of an hour.
What it had to tell them was this. Strangulation by bare hands. No defensive marks. No magic signature, no scorch, no residue, no prints. The bruise pattern showed two hands and a great deal of control. The killer had not had to try twice. The killer had worn gloves or had been very careful. No skin, no hair, no fiber. The killer had faced him.
Roam went through the pockets.
In the inner pocket of the coat, against the lining over the heart, his fingers closed on a folded paper. It had been foldedinto quarters. On its outer face, in a small precise scholar's hand, was written:
Mrs. Rhoda Hadwin.
Roam looked at it for a moment. Then he laid it in the small evidence pouch he kept inside his coat, and slipped it back into his pocket.
Sean looked over, "What've ye got there, brother."
"A note. Addressed to Rhoda."
"Aye." Sean drew in a long breath. "We should go see her then."
"Agreed." Roam's eyes burned more amber than blue.
A few other Shifters stepped carefully around the scene, and scooped up the warlock. Phineas Grove was carried away under a clean linen sheet. They did it quietly. They had been doing it in Cauldron Falls a long time.
Roam and Sean went into Spellbinders together. The shop was dim and warm. Sean went to the back counter; the small brass dial above the owl bracket showed that Mary had flown twice within the hour. Whatever Phineas had sent was already gone with her, sealed under the standard scholar's privacy enchantment. Sean filed a request to Salem on a small green form from his coat. The form folded itself and went. They searched the rest of the shop and found nothing else unusual.
"Who're ye thinkin', brother." Sean asked.
"Maeve Byrne. Two public threats at the man in twelve hours. Off the bar to the back door during the warlock fight. Nobody watched her go and nobody watched her come back."
"Aye." Sean agreed.
"Oona Pierce. Backed Maeve's second threat at the parlor. In the loo through the warlock fight. Same window." Roam was tracking the whole scene.
"Yellow-scarf?" Sean asked.
"Nah. He threw that fight for show." Roam shook his head.
"Bearded one?"
"Same. He was just mad." Roam waved him off.
Sean wrote two names in his book.
"Just the two, then."
"For now," Roam said. "Truth is, we have to consider almost everyone in that pub. We start where the threats came from."
