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“My wife is practicing illegal necromancy in here!” he shouted. “Citizen’s arrest! Hey, where’s Sheriff What’s-his-name when you need him?”
“Stop that!” I cried. “This is not funny!”
He pulled his head back inside again, chuckling, then descended again to all fours, turned in a circle and lay down.
“Woof,” he barked, and his mouth opened in a wide yawn.
I rolled my eyes. Great. I flipped through the textbook, searching for some sort of solution. Maybe a do-over spell?
An hour later, Edward was fast asleep, and I was pretty sure I’d speed-read the entire volume at least twice. But I’d come up with nothing. Frustrated, I rubbed my eyes. Should I just call the Council and give up? Turn in my Reaper license and admit to my parents that I was a big, fat failure in both magic and marriage?
My phone buzzed and I hurried to grab it before Edward woke up. Logan’s name flashed on the digital read-out and my pulse quickened.
Glancing toward my undead spouse who was snoring happily and creating a puddle of drool on the floor, I shuffled into the next room with the phone.
“Logan?” I asked quietly after answering the call. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he replied. “But I suggest you get down here. The suspect here says you’re her alibi.”
***
“Our vic was a man by the name of Shep Young,” said Logan at the park in front of the courthouse where the other EMT’s were busy loading the sheet-covered body into the ambulance.
“He wasn’t from Hideaway Hills but was in town this week to take part in some sort of regional poker tournament. This woman, Kristin Penberthy,” he said, jerking his thumb towards the same buxom blonde my husband had been doing the dirty with earlier and who now stood handcuffed between two huge police officers, crying rivers of black mascara down her face, “was found standing over the body. The coroner said Shep had been dead for at least several hours.”
The ho-bag—Kristin—met my gaze. One of her fake eyelashes had come unglued and fallen halfway into her eye, which was now twitching.
“Please, Ainsley, you have to tell them I didn’t do it! I was at your house earlier because we’re old friends from college and you invited me over to have dinner with you and Edward, right?”
My Reaper senses tingled, and I narrowed my eyes. It was true that she couldn’t have committed the murder since she’d been in bed with Edward, but I wondered why she felt the need to lie and say we were friends and that we’d gone to school together. Something was up, and I was determined to find out what it was.
“That’s right,” I nodded. “Kristin and I were in the same…um…French class together our freshman year and we’ve been friends ever since.”
Logan cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” Kristin cried. “I speak Espanol!”
I cringed. “Well, it’s been a while.” I waved my hand in the air and took a few steps toward her.
“I know you didn’t kill anyone, sweetie,” I said, patting her shoulder. “Now, why don’t these nice police officers let you out of these handcuffs and I’ll take you back home with me? You’ve had quite a shock tonight after finding the body of that unfortunate gentleman on your way home from dinner.”
I looked up at the uniforms hopefully. Kristin batted her remaining eyelash.
“Boss?” One of them said to Logan.
He sighed. “All right. I’m going against my better judgment here, because my gut says there’s something both of you ladies aren’t telling me. But, if Ainsley can vouch for Kristin’s whereabouts, technically I don’t have anything to keep her in custody.”
“Woot!” Kristin said, turning to the officer nearest her and holding up her shackled wrists. She leaned closer towards him so that he had a prime view down the V-neck of her tight purple sweater cut low enough to reveal cleavage for days. I didn’t miss the flush that came into the man’s cheeks as he grasped her hands and undid the cuffs, his gaze zeroed in on her chest. I tried not to roll my eyes.
“Free at last!” she shrieked as soon as the cuffs snapped off. Before I knew it, she pounced on me and wrapped me in an embrace of stinky perfume and hair spray.
“Thanks so much, Ainsley! You’re my very best friend!”
Oh, please. We both knew we were spinning a tall tale here, but she didn’t need to go overboard.
“I’ll put on a nice pot of tea for us as soon as we get home,” I said, grabbing her by the wrist and hustling her to my car. I could practically feel Logan’s eyes boring into my back the whole way there.
***
