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“The bars block magic, right?” he asked, trying not to sound hysterical. And failing.

“True, these cells block a Springer’s magic. But this cake was made well beyond these bars, and I think you’ll find it’s not affected.” She sounded far too sure of herself.

He should’ve let Gabi go. He knew that now. Too late.

Maybe Jenna could save him. Magic was a threat; only magic could save him.

“Do me one favor,” he said frantically, grasping the bars in two worthless hands. “My friend Jenna. I really have come to care for her. Can you find her for me? Tell her I need to see her before… before I die?”

Frannie Smith laughed at him. “Oh, honey, Jenna isn’t going to be able to do you any good. She’s run, like she always runs when things don’t go her way. Last Ginger saw Jenna was in Florida, making her way to your house. Her magic will continue to be active for a few more days, perhaps a week, so…” She shrugged. “There’s no telling what she’ll do.”

Blake returned to his cot. He knew exactly what Jenna would do. She’d wear his face into the bank and clean out his accounts. Maybe she’d live in his house for a while before she moved on. She’d have enough money to go wherever she wanted.

He started to laugh, and couldn’t stop.

He was dead four minutes after Frannie Smith exited the police station with the remnants of her last Funeral Cake in a white trash bag.

Chapter 19

Clint sat at an impressive desk in an unimpressive room. He growled, not for the first time on his first day as mayor.

“This was supposed to be an easy job,” he grumbled.

“It will be,” Travis said. “Eventually. It’s not every day that we have a dead serial killer on our hands.”

Silas was only present because the dead man had once been married to his girlfriend. He didn’t quite understand it, but Clint had asked him to be here so he was. “Serial killer?” he asked.

Travis looked his way. “Apparently so. According to Ginger he not only killed his mother, he murdered a handful of women over the years. He chose victims who wouldn’t be missed, so he’s been getting away with it.”

If Pierce had gotten his hands on Gabi, she’d be dead now. A shiver walked down Silas’s spine. He couldn’t lose her.

“Anyway,” Travis continued, “I made a few calls this morning. Pierce was wanted for questioning in his mother’s death. He tried to make it look like an accident, but he did a poor job. I’m going to poke around town and see if anyone can come up with anything that might point the authorities to his previous victims. If I do, I’ll get that information into the right hands. The local police do want Pierce’s body, probably to make sure he’s really dead. It’ll be transported out this afternoon.”

Not a moment too soon.

“If they do an autopsy, which I expect they will, what are they going to find?”

This time it was Clint who answered. “Ginger says brain aneurysm, but one of her friends at The Egg says it was his heart. Whatever it was, the autopsy will find that he died of natural causes.”

Silas shook his head. “Do we really believe that?”

“Nope,” Travis said with certainty.

“What then?” Silas snapped.

Travis and Clint shared a look, before Clint said, “Travis found a few crumbs of cake in the cell with the body.”

“Frannie Smith,” Silas said, and both the men nodded.

It was murder, he supposed, but with someone as potentially powerful as Pierce what choice had they had? They couldn’t have let him go, not even into the hands of a law enforcement agency in Florida. His magic, his power, would’ve still been in force for days after he left town, and there was no telling what he might’ve done. Frannie had done them a huge favor.

“I hope you’re not as deadly as our last mayor,” Silas said to Clint, and then he left. The walls had been closing in on him; he needed fresh air.

He needed to see Gabi.

He walked from the small city government building, down Main Street, to Gabi’s street. There was no one else out and about, no one nearby to distract him,

Gabi could leave anytime it suited her. Would she? If she left, would he go with her? Did she want him to? Would she allow it? He wouldn’t follow her, wouldn’t become what she feared most. He would not be the reason she looked over her shoulder and locked the doors at night, even if it hurt like hell to watch her walk away.