Page 3 of Investigation of a Quest

“You can deny it all you want, but I understand you in this respect,” Eamon said. “Isobel is our weakness. We love her too much to be objective, and while she knows that if it were a clear case of murder, you’d condemn her, but this isn’t. How can we judge her confession that she wanted to kill Triton for his sins when killing him was the only way four women walked away from that day alive? We’re operating in the grey, and we all know that you would protect her at all costs. That’s the Emerson effect—the daughter of true love. The urge to kill her is strong. Her kind has been hunted since the dawn of time for the power in their blood, but for those of us who love her, the need to protect her is far stronger. Short of a heinous act, we’d jump through hoops to save her, and she knows it. So she can’t believe us when we justify her actions. It doesn’t matter that they were absolutely the right thing to do. She’s convinced she’s evil, and she’s terrified of letting us prove otherwise.”

“Thank you.” Bel accepted the vanilla latte and cream cheese bagel from The Espresso Shot barista and rushed out the door, barely beating the commuters’ line. She could always make coffee at home, but nothing beat a cup straight from the holy land, so she’d started planning her morning trips to conclude before people who recognized her flooded the shop.

“Bel?” an all-too-friendly voice called, and she ground her teeth. She’d been so close to escaping to her new job on the town committee unnoticed, but it seemed her luck had run out. She’d been caught…

Or had she?

With a twinge of guilt churning her stomach, Bel maintained her pace, striding to her car and locking herself inside it as if her former partner, Olivia Gold, hadn’t been waving for her attention. She pretended she hadn’t noticed the blonde detective, and thankfully her old friend didn’t try calling her cell. Olivia had learned. She’d tried calling in those first weeks, but it was Bel’s turn to draw the line in the sand and refuse the relationship. She hadn’t talked to anyone from the station since she slid her badge across Griffin’s desk. She barely spoke to anyone in town, Eamon included. She’d stopped confiding in him because her shame wouldn’t accept his comfort. She didn’t want him to tell her it was okay. The evil in this town had changed her, and she didn’t need the great Impaler justifying her sins. So she turned everyone else away and kept him at arm’s length. It was better this way.

Which was a lie if she’d ever heard one.

“Good morning,” she greeted the homeowners as she parked in front of their chaotic home. The haunted house competition was due to start in a matter of days, and she was touring the competing homes to check their progress and confirm they’d adhered to their proposed designs. They didn’t want any competitor switching gears at the last minute and entering a dangerous design into a contest that would welcome hundreds of people inside on their tours.

“Good morning,” the homeowners responded as they led her through the construction. This family was transforming their five-bedroom home into a giant dollhouse. Complete with a false façade to hide the house, the oversized furniture would give visitors a doll’s point of view, and Bel couldn’t wait to see this home’s opening night. She also didn’t care to see this family’s bill. Even though the props were lightweight replicas of their real-life counterparts, the custom jobs must have cost a fortune.

“Well, did we pass inspection?” the husband asked when she finally made her way back outside to the cluttered front lawn.

“Everything looks good⁠—”

“Watch out.” The husband interrupted, grabbing her arm and moving her a few feet to the right to avoid being struck by the crane. It was lifting a massive dollhouse to its frame on the roof, where it would sit lopsided like a gentleman’s top hat.

“Thanks.” Bel pointed at the swaying structure with a smirk. “That dollhouse is bigger than my cabin.”

“Pretty cool, eh?” he asked.

“It’s great. I love the concept, and you’ve adhered to your proposal. I found no issues except that it’s ambitious. You sure you can get it done in time?”

“We’ll finish,” the wife said. “Decorating for Halloween is my life’s mission. We’d do this regardless of a contest.”

“Sounds fun,” Bel said, trying to hide her shock at the idea that this extravagance was a family tradition. “I’ll let you go. You have a lot to do. Good luck.”

“Thanks so much.” The couple shook her hand, and Bel turned to leave, only to find her path blocked by a dark-haired woman in a severe black dress suit with bright red stilettos resting almost magically atop the grass.

“Excuse me.” Bel shifted her weight, suddenly uncomfortable by this stranger’s appearance. Something wasn’t natural about this woman’s soul-piercing gaze, and she couldn’t stop glancing down at the vibrant heels.

“Ruby East.” The woman extended her hand, and for a split second, Bel considered refusing it before she reached out to⁠—

Blood slapped Bel in the face so fast that she didn’t have time to shut her eyes or mouth. Warm crimson dripped down her eyelashes to sting her eyeballs, and the taste of metallic liquid slid against her teeth. The world went mute, fading into a numb background as she stood there with her outstretched hand empty and her skin sickly sticky. She hadn’t heard the crash. She couldn’t hear the screams. All she could focus on was the fact that the strange woman who’d been standing before her was suddenly gone, her red heels sticking out from below the crashed dollhouse, the only proof she’d ever existed.

Bel stopped breathing as she stared at Ruby East’s legs jutting out from the bloody wall. The crane’s straps must have broken. The massive dollhouse must have fallen. Bel had been standing in Ruby’s spot less than five minutes ago, but the homeowner had pulled her away. If he hadn’t, those would be Bel’s feet sticking out from below the battered décor. The dollhouse was so much larger at this proximity; the mass completely hiding Ruby East’s body save for those damn electrifying heels, and Bel couldn’t escape their gravity. She just stood there, deaf to the world as the blood cooled on her face and the red stilettos burned holes in her brain.

“Emerson…? Emerson!”

Bel flinched, her consciousness slamming back to earth.

“Emerson, are you hurt?” Griffin grabbed her biceps, and at the panic curling his fingers, she wondered how long she’d been standing there staring at Ruby East’s shoes… or when the entire police force had shown up on this desecrated lawn.

“Emerson?” Griffin’s hands slid up her arms to cup her face, twisting it so he could examine the blood smearing her skin. “Tell me where you’re hurt.”

But Bel just stared at him, her brain glitching as it flickered between East’s crushed body and Triton’s blank stare, his bullet hole a third eye drilling accusation into her.

“Emerson! Are you hurt?”

Bel blinked, Triton’s hollow gaze morphing into the sheriff’s panicked features, and she shook her head, her body trapped in molasses. “I was…” she whispered. “I was standing right there.” She pointed to the disembodied red high heels. “He moved me.”

“Who moved you?” Griffin asked, but East’s feet reclaimed her focus, so he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her off the grass. “Check her out,” he ordered the paramedic, and then he abandoned her to their able care while he joined the medical examiner, Lina Thum, by what remained of the body.

“So, it looks like this was a freak accident,” Griffin said when he finally rejoined Bel at the ambulance. “We examined the crane and the other equipment. Nothing is wrong with any of it, nor was anything tampered with.” He crouched before her and took her hands. “All the witnesses said the same thing, too. The house fell on the victim without warning. Seems this was just a horrible case of the wrong place at the wrong time.”