“Considering that newly active case, I would’ve been pleased as punch to have found a fingerprint, a hair, any sign of Mr. Hale in that room.” Embry got the sense that this man had never beenpleased as punchin his life—and the casual language set her to bracing her palms against her thighs again. He was trying to draw her off her game. “Heck, I’d love proof that he’s been waltzing around, framing you since Friday night. That would mean killing two birds with one stone, and there’s no feeling better than that in my line of work, Miss Woodcross.”
Even if his tone was more sarcastic than she thought him capable of, Embry believed Inspector Brown. Mostly because her stomach sank at the coming turn back to her. Embry’s gut inched closer to her running shoes.
“Yet”—there it was—“all we’ve found, Miss Woodcross, are your prints, not to mentionyour personin a room containing evidence flecked with the DNA of the deceased Miss Riddle—her dress, her blood.” So there was a bloodstain on the dress after all—one Balthazar had left for them to find. “We also have a corsage found on Miss Riddle’s person that matches the one you were seen wearing the night of her death. It’s currently being tested to see if it was the means of injection for the magical poison that killed her.”
Embry knew the corsage in her room was gone. Meaning the one on the body was going tolookas if it could be hers—simply because it was the only one. If it was the injection site for the poison, it would be traced back to her. She’d bet anything there was some sort of needle or thorn or something similar hidden in the intricately arranged circlet of orchid petals.
“As I said, no one has seen or heard of Mr. Hale in days. Furthermore, he isn’t the only one missing.”
A cold shot of fear trickled down Embry’s spine.
Had something happened to Alistair? Had he gone missing since formally dropping out? Or was he actually in on this with Balthazar, their testy relationship a ruse? Embry’s gut felt as if it’d lodged itself under the station floorboards.
“I believe you were present on Sunday evening, when the Woodcross coven had a visit from the family members of Miss Riddle?” Inspector Brown asked, knowing he wouldn’t get a reply. “I believe several members of your coven, including your father, were injured?” Embry didn’t give him anything, even as her heart twanged for Daddy. “After that event, the Riddle family relieved the morgue of their daughter and went home.”
Embry shifted her expression in the direction of surprise that she didn’t feel. It must have worked because Brown nodded, as if confirming that, yes, they did steal a body.
“Except,” he said, “they didn’t all make it home.”
Embry’s stomach bottomed out.What?
“In the past forty-eight hours, at least ten members of the Riddle family have been reported missing, many of those have been found murdered in a similar manner to Miss Riddle, and the remaining members have filed a grievance with the Table alleging illegal, organized vampire hunting by the Woodcross coven.”
Embry’s breath caught, her heart paused, her mind whirred. “Inspector, I assure you members of the Woodcross coven would never hunt vampires.”
Now Brown’s dull face rose in a cat-caught-the-canary grin. Given his endless litany of muted expressions, this was a terrifying development. Most especially because she had no idea why he appeared to think he’d baited her…
Embry chomped down on her cheeks anew. She shouldn’t have blurted out that answer, even if it was in defense of the coven.When it was clear she’d reverted to the quiet game, Brown dropped that smile and leaned forward onto his elbows. The basic scent of antibacterial soap wafted her way. As if he used the stuff head to toe. Embry’s drooping stomach roiled.
“The grievance against the Woodcross coven has been accepted by the Table, and an investigation parallel yet related to this one has been opened.”
It couldn’t be—this was so outrageous and wrong. Yet the man kept talking with big, official-sounding words, his faux folksy demeanor stripped away.
“The Table is concerned the Woodcross coven has become a radicalized group—this is based not only on the concerns of the Riddle vampires, but from others as well who have noted the absolute power of the Woodcross coven within Ravenwood.”
Embry fought to keep from gaping.
“A separate team of investigators is working to construct a plausible case against members of your family and coven, alleging the purposeful eradication of the vampires within the Riddle aegis,” Brown said. “Starting with Miss Riddle and continuing with the other unfortunate members of her family. As I’m sure the books in your extensive family conservatory will attest, it is a common strategy to use one known vampire to draw out the rest of the nest for extermination—a tactic that is as old as vampire hunting itself. Because they are such a territorial and familial group, it is extremely common for them to fall prey to this tactic, even though they are very aware of the dangers.”
A chill spread through her disjointed body as she sat there, disbelieving how wrong everything had become. Embry thought she might pass out.
“The good news for you is that I don’t believe you’re the ringleader. No, I think you’re a good little soldier, who does whatyou’re told.” He shrugged and made it look exactly like the one she’d given him at the beginning of this train wreck of a one-way conversation. “Which means there are bigger fish to fry here.”
Again, the casual language wassoout of place. It was meant to stun Embry—and it did. Her mind spun with thebig fishhe seemed to think he could catch if he baited her just right.
Rye, Daddy, Merle.Or worse—maybe everyone age eighteen and over in the coven.
Now Inspector Brown tapped off the order of events on his pale, doughy fingers.
“You killed your friend, stole her magic, drew out her family, and then the Woodcross coven attacked them on your land, where wards obscure the noise level and sight line of outsiders on the nights of your coven meetings, which was when this occurred.” Here, he paused, taking the time to look her straight in the eye. “And when they got away, the coven members followed them, finished off the ones they could catch, and stole their magic.”
Oakley had gone to school, ended up murdered, and then several members of her family had died, too? And this man thoughtshedid it? That her daddy and coven would do such a thing?
Embry didn’t say a word, but she shook her head. A firm no.
“Deny all you want, Miss Woodcross, but there’s a reason that Hiram Woodcross snuck out of Salem ahead of the witch trials.” Brown watched her with hangdog, waiting eyes. “It wasn’t just that he was a witch; it’s that he was caught hunting vampires for their magic.”
Was that true? That couldn’t be true! Embry knew everything there was to know about Hiram Woodcross and the founding of the coven. No way—
