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CHAPTERONE
Breaking News! The Ripper Strikes Again!
I staredat the headline on my laptop. TheStarlight Hollow Monitorwasn’t making matters any easier for the Sheriff, that was for sure. With a sigh, I read:
On the evening of August 12, a fifth victim of the Starlight Hollow Ripper was found down by Dabob Bay, in a patch of Scotch Broom. Local fisherman, Rain Masters, found the remains of Sandra Price, a tourist from Augusta, Maine while taking his dog for a walk.
Price was visiting her sister in Port Townsend, and had driven down to Starlight Hollow the morning of August 12. Her sister, Abigail Johnson, says that Price had set out to go sightseeing on her own. When she didn’t return by sevenPM, she called the police.
Sheriff Parker urges everyone to remain calm, but asks people to avoid going into any secluded area alone. If anyone has any information regarding this crime, please contact her department immediately.
I sighed. The only good news regarding the case was that Faron’s lieutenant, Elroy, was off the suspect list. After the scare of being considered a potential murderer, Elroy had taken pains to always have an alibi. In fact, he was hanging around with friends so much that he was beginning to annoy them. And then there was the fact that the last three murders had happened when there was no way he could have done it.
“Breakfast?” Fancypants asked, flying down from the top of the china hutch. The dragonette had grown in spirit during the past month, though not much in size. But he was ensconced in my life now and it felt like he had always been with me. He landed on the table beside me. “You’re up early,” he added.
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep. I woke up at 7:30 and decided to get dressed and take a walk. Great-grandma Morgance is driving down today to stay for awhile.”
My great-grandmother had shown up the second week of August and, other than a phone call, I hadn’t had a chance to see her yet. In fact, I’d only met her once—when I was five and my father died. She’d flown over from Scotland for the memorial service and the cord cutting ceremony.
I didn’t remember much about that day, or for her except that she had flame red hair like I did, and she was both beautiful and terrifying. I wasn’t sure whether she seemed so imposing because I was five years old and had lost my father, or whether it was an actual memory.
“Is your mother coming with her?” Fancypants had already met my mother. I’d finally allowed Catharine to come visit when I had my cast on. She’d been so worried that I couldn’t refuse her. I loved my mother but we butted heads. She still wasn’t happy that I’d relocated from Port Towsend to Starlight Hollow, a forty-five-minute drive away.
“I don’t think so. From the subtext of my mother’s texts, I don’t think they’re getting along well. Great-grandma never objected to the marriage, but she and my mother are very different.” I pushed back my empty latte mug and stretched. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Sausage? Eggs?” Fancypants daintily licked his paws. Dragonettes cleaned themselves like a cat, except they had more mobility with that long slinky neck. “By the way, the top of your china hutch needs a good dusting.”
“How about I give you a dust cloth and you do it?” I opened the fridge and pulled out the sausages and a carton of eggs. Dragonettes ate a lot during their first year, and he’d eat more than I would for breakfast. Which was saying something, given I could pack it away.
“Oh shoo. I don’t do?—”
I snorted. “Housework?That’s all well and good if you decide to run off to the wilds, but if you live under my roof?—”
“You live by my rules,” Fancypants said with a huff. Steam puffed from his nostrils. He’d finally learned how to prevent accidental flaming hiccups. Now most of his automatic reflexes simply produced steam, which cut down on the fire risk.
“Exactly. Here,” I handed him a microfiber washcloth from the counter. “Go dust while I cook.”
He gave me the stink eye, but took the cloth and flew up to the top of the china hutch. I turned back to the stove where I tossed fourteen sausage links in a pan over medium heat, six for me, eight for him. I whipped up six eggs and added some grated cheese. I’d start them when the sausages were ready.
As I stared out the window, my phone dinged. It was my best friend, Bree Loomis.
hey, i have a question. do you have time to come over and check something out? i don’t know how to explain it, but something’s going on that’s making me nervous.
I glanced at the clock. It was eight-thirty.
can i come over at nine after i eat breakfast? are you at work? my great-grandmother will be coming today from port townsend at noon.
sure. i’ll be a little late to work today. i don’t open till ten anyway, and it takes me ten minutes max to drive down to the shop. see you in half-an-hour, and thanks.
I turned the sausages, then added water and covered them to finish steaming them. Bree was always so level headed and capable that any time I sensed something amiss in her world, I worried. Hell, I worried enough when she led expeditions out into the wilderness.
I scrambled our eggs and divided them onto two plates—one Fancypants’s special plate, and one my own. After adding the sausages, and two pieces of toast each, I set them on the table. “Breakfast awaits, your highness!”
He peeked over the edge of the china hutch, a dust bunny attached to the top of his head. I started to laugh and he frowned, then flew down to land by his plate.
“And what’s so funny?”
“You’ve become one with the dust!” I snapped a quick picture and then turned the phone so he could see it.
