Page 29 of Grimoires & Glamoury

“Tonight,” I said. “About seven?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said.

“See you tonight,” I said and ended the call.

CHAPTER SIX

Nash arrived on time that evening and when I opened the front door, I saw he was carrying a folder.

“Come in,” I invited him.

“Said it before, but I love your house.” He walked across the living room and took a seat on one end of my tan sofa.

“What did you find out?” I asked as I joined him.

Nash passed me the folder. “Sawyer Weston hails from a small rural town in southern Missouri. It’s smack in the middle of the Ozark waterways, national forests, state parks and so on.”

“Okay,” I said, looking over the files he’d put together. I read over Sawyer’s family information quickly. Then I paused.

My heart slammed into my throat and I fought against flinching. Taking a stabilizing breath, I re-read Sawyer’s personal information much more carefully.

“His parents and sister still live in the area. They raise dairy cattle,” Nash said. “Right outside a town called Hemlock Hollow.”

Knowing that my voice would betray me, I silently nodded as Nash spoke.

Sawyer’s hometown was well known to me. It was a preternatural hotspot, you could say. And a place where Vampires, Lycans, Witches and Fae all lived in close quarters with one another.

“Sawyer got a scholarship, attended Auburn and graduated with degrees in history and library sciences,” Nash continued.

“Library sciences?” Thankfully, my voice was steady. “Well, that explains why Sawyer likely had access to Montgomery’s personal library.”

“Right,” he agreed. “As to Shelby Murphy…she’s from Birmingham. No living family. Not much more information to be found about her than what you already knew. Graduated from UAB, works for the history department, and adjunct teacher part-time.”

“Do we know how long she and Sawyer have been a couple?”

Nash nodded. “I did a deep dive into her social media. She’s active on it—Sawyer is not. I went back two years. That’s when I started finding photos of them together. There were several posts with photos of Sawyer, Shelby, and Tadd when they moved into the house in Highland Park.”

I shuffled through the pages and saw a page of printed photos lifted from Shelby’s social media. “How long ago was that?” I asked.

“About a year ago.”

“Were you able to learn anything about Tadd?”

“His last name was Caruthers. He had worked at UAB in the computer science department. He was a tech guy.”

“Maybe that’s how he and Shelby met?” I wondered out loud. “Did you find out anything else about him? Was he Christian or a Pagan?”

“Unclear,” Nash said. “His social media accounts were closed. Probably by his family after his death.”

I nodded and checked the photos again for any religious jewelry that might declare what Tadd’s spiritual beliefs were. But I saw none. Shelby was a Witch and Sawyer a ceremonialist, both Pagans, and my guess was that if Tadd hadn’t been as well, then he’d either been agnostic or Pagan-curious. Especially since they were housemates. “Were Tadd’s people from the Birmingham area?”

“No,” Nash said. “The Caruthers were from Mobile, Alabama. Tadd was buried in the Episcopal Church cemetery beside his grandparents.”

I sighed, sadly. “Do the police have any leads in his murder?”

“The police think it might have been a B and E gone wrong.”

“Breaking and entering,” I murmured.