Page 9 of The Devil Knows Her Name

The old woman sputtered, her drooping lips flapping. She looked at Broder to overrule me, but he knew he should’ve sent her home already. The folds of skin that spilled over his stiff collar were turning an unhappy red, but he said nothing.

“I pay my taxes, and it’s my right—”

“No,” I said. “It’s not. Thank you for your call. We’ll take it from here.”

“I’ll call…” she trailed off, realizing the person she would’ve called was already here. Finally, she spun on her heel and stomped across the unmown lawn to her own house.

Once she was gone, I turned to Broder. “Sorry you had to take time out of your day for this, Chief,” I said, though I neither wanted nor had asked for him to be there. “I can take it from here. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

His small, piggy eyes narrowed; he didn’t appreciate being dismissed. “That’s all right, just figured I’d give you some backup.”

I laughed as if he’d told a joke, but made no move toward the porch. For a moment we stood there, staring each other down and pretending the silence wasn’t growing brittle.

“No cops are getting in here without a warrant,” the woman on the porch said.

Broder bristled and swung to face her, a bull who’d caught a glimpse of red in his periphery. I closed my eyes briefly, snatched at the threads of magic that were present even here, and cast them around him like a noose.

I didn’t like to use such brute force. There was no subtlety to it, just domination. When wielded this way, the magic had no nuance, and worst of all, no staying power; as soon as I relinquished my hold, he’d likely be back on the warpath again. Broder was a difficult creature, and it was hard to know when cutting him off at the knees would arrest his progress or only make him furious. I had to hedge my bets.

“If you had nothing to hide, you wouldn’t…” He faded off in the middle of one of his favorite phrases, confusion flitting across his face. He sighed and, without another word, headed back down the driveway toward his cruiser. I turned my attention to the woman on the porch.

“I’m not a cop,” I said. “I’m the animal control officer; my name’s Tess. I’m guessing you know why I’m here.”

The woman was still looking down the driveway, and I took the opportunity to ascend the rickety porch steps, noting the peeling paint and exposed nails in the railing. “What’s with him?” she asked.

“Probably just realized it wasn’t worth the trouble,” I said, and favored her with a conspiratorial smile. “It’s really not worth the trouble, but you know how it is with nosy neighbors.”

“Yeah, that old bitch, always on my ass about something. Once she called the landlord because I didn’t bring my trash bins in for a day.”

I shook my head. “Honestly, it’s sad when they get like that—nothing better to do with their lives than nitpick.”

“You’re telling me.” She took another hit off the vape, and it was then I saw the Band-Aids wrapped around three of her fingers, the larger bandage on her wrist, another one on her opposite forearm.

“I’m Sarah,” she said finally.

“Sarah, nice to meet you. Have you lived here long?”

I drew her into small talk for a few minutes, keeping the magic in a chokehold on Broder as he sat and stewed in the cruiser; I wouldn’t be able to maintain it and hold a conversation for long, but I had to hold him at bay until Sarah let me in. Eventually, she seemed to relax slightly, offering me the vape.

“Ah, no thanks, not for me. Is it all bullshit, then? You don’t have a deer in the house?”

She looked guilty. “What if I did?”

I shrugged, as if this were no big deal. “Why would you?”

“Well, let’s say a little baby fawn wandered into my yard a couple days ago, and I left it alone just like you’re supposed to, but the mother never came for it.”

“That would be pretty unusual, since fawns are born in the spring. Theoretically, how little of a baby are we talking about?”

“Baby-baby. Little spots and twig legs baby.”

I met her gaze and held it. She didn’t look away. “Pretty unusual,” I repeated.

It was her turn to shrug. “Let’s say it’s true. What would happen then?”

“Okay, let’s say it’s true. In this scenario, did the fawn bite you?”

I looked out over the backyard as I said it, pretending I didn’t see her tugging her sleeves down.