down. The weapon would have been heavier and with more surface than a baseball bat, but the deep tissue injuries are consistent with an impact injury. Not unlike what they see from a hit-and-run, except the area of damage was confined to his upper body. The second weapon cut away the evidence that would help us determine what brought him down.”
“So, did more than one person kill Jason? Or one person with two weapons?” I asked.
“I don’t think I like your interest in this, Miss Carmichael. You aren’t officially cleared as a suspect, although I don’t believe you’re capable of doing quite so much damage by yourself. You aren’t considering something as asinine as trying to investigate this murder yourself, are you?”
The thoughts that had sprung so unexpectedly into my head yesterday turned into words that tumbled from my mouth. “Jason sought shelter at the Honey House and that makes him my responsibility. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure his killer is caught.”
I stood to leave and Quinn grabbed my wrist. His grip was painfully tight. “If you fuck with this investigation, I will personally haul your ass to jail.”
I leaned into the pain. I leaned in so close our faces were practically touching. I could feel his hot breath against my lips; I remembered the taste of that mouth on mine. Someone’s breath was loud in my ears, but I didn’t know if it was his or mine. We stayed like that a long time, our lips a hairsbreadth apart.
While our tableau remained frozen, something inside of me began to change. It started as a bit of warmth behind my navel, like hot chocolate on a winter day, nothing more. The sensation of warmth began to grow, slowly flowing from my core outward, filling my limbs, heating me from the inside out. A distant buzzing like the sound of high voltage power lines sounded inside my head. My skin prickled, the hair rising from goose flesh, electricity snapping. I was changing, and I wasn’t afraid. I let the power fill me, and when I was full, I let it spill out over Quinn.
“Fuck,” he said, and quickly let go of my wrist.
****
“Susan,” Quinn said with a tip of his hat. Her face lit up at Quinn’s voice, until she looked up from her jewelry counter and saw the two of us standing there. Quinn had decreed I had to come with him to interview the witnesses rather than muck about on my own. I’d demurely agreed, which made him suspicious. It probably should have.
Our first stop was Elegant Rocks, Susan’s upscale jewelry store right in the center of Main Street. Nothing but the best for our Susan, I thought wryly. She looked her usual elegant self, in a sleek black skirt and crisp white blouse. Her hair was in a short, blonde bob, not a strand out of place. She was tastefully decorated in silver and turquoise at her ears, throat, and wrists.
I, on the other hand, looked windswept. Quinn had picked me up on his motorcycle for our round of questioning. Jeans, boots, black leather jacket, and with my mass of black hair pulled back into a long braid, I made the perfect picture of biker babe. Swell.
In less than five minutes, Susan managed to tell us she and Jason had never spoken face to face, and her contribution would have only been to fill in any blanks in the town background. The warmth that spread through me earlier suddenly flared, and I listened quietly to what she was telling Quinn as she stared up at him and batted her baby blues. She was lying.
“Of course, I don’t know anything about false paranormal activity, unless you count KC’s fortune telling. No offense, I’m sure. I think this is all a big to do about nothing, I’m sure it will all blow over,” she said airily.
“A man died, Susan,” Quinn said, and there was an edge of anger in his voice.
“Oh, Susan didn’t mean anything by that, did you?” I asked sweetly, putting myself between the two of them. Considering I was four inches shorter than Susan and over a foot shorter than Quinn, it
“So, did more than one person kill Jason? Or one person with two weapons?” I asked.
“I don’t think I like your interest in this, Miss Carmichael. You aren’t officially cleared as a suspect, although I don’t believe you’re capable of doing quite so much damage by yourself. You aren’t considering something as asinine as trying to investigate this murder yourself, are you?”
The thoughts that had sprung so unexpectedly into my head yesterday turned into words that tumbled from my mouth. “Jason sought shelter at the Honey House and that makes him my responsibility. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure his killer is caught.”
I stood to leave and Quinn grabbed my wrist. His grip was painfully tight. “If you fuck with this investigation, I will personally haul your ass to jail.”
I leaned into the pain. I leaned in so close our faces were practically touching. I could feel his hot breath against my lips; I remembered the taste of that mouth on mine. Someone’s breath was loud in my ears, but I didn’t know if it was his or mine. We stayed like that a long time, our lips a hairsbreadth apart.
While our tableau remained frozen, something inside of me began to change. It started as a bit of warmth behind my navel, like hot chocolate on a winter day, nothing more. The sensation of warmth began to grow, slowly flowing from my core outward, filling my limbs, heating me from the inside out. A distant buzzing like the sound of high voltage power lines sounded inside my head. My skin prickled, the hair rising from goose flesh, electricity snapping. I was changing, and I wasn’t afraid. I let the power fill me, and when I was full, I let it spill out over Quinn.
“Fuck,” he said, and quickly let go of my wrist.
****
“Susan,” Quinn said with a tip of his hat. Her face lit up at Quinn’s voice, until she looked up from her jewelry counter and saw the two of us standing there. Quinn had decreed I had to come with him to interview the witnesses rather than muck about on my own. I’d demurely agreed, which made him suspicious. It probably should have.
Our first stop was Elegant Rocks, Susan’s upscale jewelry store right in the center of Main Street. Nothing but the best for our Susan, I thought wryly. She looked her usual elegant self, in a sleek black skirt and crisp white blouse. Her hair was in a short, blonde bob, not a strand out of place. She was tastefully decorated in silver and turquoise at her ears, throat, and wrists.
I, on the other hand, looked windswept. Quinn had picked me up on his motorcycle for our round of questioning. Jeans, boots, black leather jacket, and with my mass of black hair pulled back into a long braid, I made the perfect picture of biker babe. Swell.
In less than five minutes, Susan managed to tell us she and Jason had never spoken face to face, and her contribution would have only been to fill in any blanks in the town background. The warmth that spread through me earlier suddenly flared, and I listened quietly to what she was telling Quinn as she stared up at him and batted her baby blues. She was lying.
“Of course, I don’t know anything about false paranormal activity, unless you count KC’s fortune telling. No offense, I’m sure. I think this is all a big to do about nothing, I’m sure it will all blow over,” she said airily.
“A man died, Susan,” Quinn said, and there was an edge of anger in his voice.
“Oh, Susan didn’t mean anything by that, did you?” I asked sweetly, putting myself between the two of them. Considering I was four inches shorter than Susan and over a foot shorter than Quinn, it
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