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“Apparently. She said that Lilith hasn’t spoken to her family in years, so she’ll be handling everything.”
I absorbed that comment and nodded. Something about learning that Lilith was estranged from her family made me a little sad. My own mother still didn’t quite understand the whole witch thing, but she also had never tried to stop me from pursuing my dream. We still chatted every week, sometimes on the phone, sometimes via a Zoom meeting, depending on what else she was doing that day.
Honestly, I didn’t even know for sure where exactly Lilith called home. Because her schtick involved traveling around the country and performing rituals in various “powerful” locales, all her videos seemed to be filmed in various Airbnbs or other vacation homes.
We headed up Mesquite Street, going toward the Airbnb that Josie’s friend Muriel owned and where Lilith and her entourage had been staying while in Globe. As we approached the little bungalow — painted a cheerful yellow with dark green trim — a man came hurrying out of the house. He was tall, with brown hair several shades lighter than Calvin’s coal-black locks, and he wore a dress shirt and slacks. Even as we slowed down and began to pull up to the curb, the man climbed into a Mercedes coupe parked in the short driveway in front of the one-car garage and began to back out.
“Is that…?” Calvin asked, and I nodded.
“I think so.”
He pushed down on the gas pedal, clearly intending to block the driveway. With a screech of brakes, the Mercedes came to an abrupt halt, just inches away from crashing into the front fender of Calvin’s Durango.
“Got you,” Calvin said with grim satisfaction, and unbuckled his seat belt and got out.
I followed suit, barely avoiding tripping over my long skirt as I jumped out of the SUV. He was already standing by the driver-side door of the Mercedes, which I vaguely noted had California plates.
“Mind getting out of the vehicle, sir?”
The door opened, and the brown-haired man got out. He was good-looking in a spray-tanned, L.A. sort of way, and appeared very out of place on this street of vintage houses and older-model vehicles.
“Just what the hell is this about?” the man demanded.
You’d think the uniform would’ve been enough, but — showing more patience than I probably would have — Calvin also pulled his I.D. out of his pocket and flashed it at the guy. “Calvin Standingbear, San Ramon tribal police. I’m investigating Lilith Black’s murder. And you are?”
“Doug Snyder,” the brown-haired man replied. “I’m Lilith’s business manager.”
Well, that explained why the two of them had been arguing in my vision. Or at least, it explained how they knew one another.
“Got it,” Calvin said. “Let’s all go inside and discuss what you’re doing in Globe.”
For a second, Doug stared at Calvin, clearly wondering if he should protest. But then he seemed to take in all six feet, four inches of the police chief’s looming form and decide that maybe putting up any kind of resistance probably wasn’t such a good idea.
“Fine,” he said, although the word came out almost as a snarl.
The three of us headed up the front walk, and Calvin knocked on the door. It opened almost at once, and Tansy stared out at us in surprise. “Doug?” she managed, in a wispy little voice that matched her appearance perfectly. “Um…what?”
“We need to come in and have a talk,” Calvin said, and Tansy’s blue-gray eyes widened even further.
“Oh…okay.”
She stepped out of the way, and the three of us trooped inside. The place wasn’t very big, but had been furnished in a lively cottage style with lots of blue and yellow and green, matching the exterior of the house perfectly. Almost immediately inside the front door was the living room, and Calvin pointed at the overstuffed couch.
“You can go ahead and sit down,” he said. The words were phrased politely enough, but the steel underlying his tone indicated he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Doug Snyder didn’t offer any protests, but went to the sofa and sat down on the middle cushion. Still looking mystified — and a little scared — Tansy seated herself as well, although on a hard-backed side chair a few feet away.
Since I was with Calvin, I figured I’d better remain standing. Even though it had been my vision that had sent us here, I knew he was the one conducting the investigation, and so I’d let him take the lead…for the moment, anyway.
“So,” he went on, now sounding almost casual, as if he had his suspects right where he wanted them and therefore could relax a bit. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here, Mr. Snyder?”
“Like I told you before, I’m Lilith Black’s business manager,” Doug said. He looked more annoyed than anything else, as if he’d been interrupted on his way to get coffee or something, rather than detained for questioning in a murder investigation. “I always accompany her on these trips. I got hung up with some business in L.A., though, so I drove out yesterday afternoon.” He paused there, and squinted up at Calvin. “That’s all you need to know.”
Not even a blink in response to the other man’s snotty tone. “Oh, I’ll be the one to decide what I ‘need to know,’” Calvin responded. “And it’s probably a good idea if you cooperate, Mr. Snyder. If you don’t want to talk here, I can always put you under arrest and take you to the station for questioning. I guarantee that won’t be nearly as comfortable as what we’re doing now.”
Doug Snyder’s spray tan wouldn’t exactly allow him to turn pale, although he did look a little pinched around the nose and mouth. “Under arrest for what?”
“For the murder of Lilith Black,” Calvin said easily. “A witness saw you arguing with her only a few hours before her death. Care to explain what that was about?”
