The library parking lot was empty, save for Priscilla's cherry-red Harley. Street lamps washed the area in yellow light. An eerie sense of déjà vu itched at the back of Mahogany's mind. She rolled her shoulders and headed for the library's smoky doors, pushing the tingling feeling away.
The doors whooshed opened as Mahogany approached, and she entered the library's cool air. A disquieting sensation that this had happened before gripped her chest and squeezed. Goose flesh sprang along her arms and the back of her neck.
"Something's not right," Guy said. "Maybe you should leave. Get some backup."
Mahogany considered this but shook her head. "That would take too long. What if Priscilla needs help now?" She moved deeper into the library on tiptoe.
"Priscilla? I got your call," Mahogany called, but no response came.
Nestled among a sea of waist-high bookshelves, Mohogany spied the reference desk, but there was no sign of Priscilla.
"Maybe she's in the restroom," Guy said, his tone betraying the hopeful message of his words.
Mahogany nodded, her eyes locked on the desk. "Yeah, maybe."
After crossing what felt like an equivalent length to the Sahara, Mahogany reached the reference desk. She gave the space another cursory glance, searching for the AWOL librarian.
"Priscilla," Mahogany called again. Not waiting for a reply, she peeked over the top of the large, semicircle desk. Neat stacks of books awaited processing filled one side. On the other sat Priscilla's computer monitor and keyboard. A manila envelope lay next to the computer mouse with Mahogany's name written in Priscilla's looping hand.
Mahogany reached over the top of the desk and grabbed the envelope when something caught her attention. The tip of one of Priscilla's black motorcycle books peaked from behind her office chair.
"Priscilla?" Mahogany croaked through parched lips. Her heart raced, and blood rang in her ears. Mahogany slid around the desk on numb feet. She dragged her hand over the tall desktop, her sweaty hand squeaking over the surface, leaving a damp streak in its path.
The librarian's boots inched into view as Mahogany rounded the desk, a chunky toe followed by crenelated soles. Black leather traveled up her shin until it met a pair of red leather pants.
Priscilla lay on her side. Her eye open and blank, pupils stretched wide. A thin foamy line of drool fell from her lips and pooled on the tile floor beneath her cheek.
Mahogany started at the scene before her without seeing it. Tiny dots of darkness paraded in on her vision, restricting her view. Her knees wobbled as if they were made of pudding, and she gripped the desk to keep from falling.
Guy approached Priscilla and placed his hand through her chest. He looked up at Mahogany and shook his head with a sad finality.
"Do you think her death was natural?" Guy asked. "Maybe an allergic reaction? Stroke?"
Mahogany's vision cleared after a series of deep breaths, and her knees stopped shaking. She'd seen many dead wizards over the last six months, but she had expected to find them. Coming upon someone who'd died suddenly was much, much different.
She knelt on the other side of Priscilla from Guy. The scent of licorice and peppermint drifted in the air around the body. "She smells like herbal tea. Do you see a cup?'
They searched the area and found an overturned mug under the desk. Guy stuck his head in the remnants of the cup's contents puddled next to its overturned lip. "Peppermint and licorice," he confirmed.
"Do you taste anything else?"
Guy shook his head. "I'm not a herbalist. I don't know much about plants."
Mahogany gave a grave nod. "We need to get out of here and call the police. If I'm right, Priscilla has been poisoned." She stood and grabbed the envelope, the corner of which caught something just behind the computer monitor. Mahogany peered behind the sleek black screen and discovered a small rectangular box decorated in a Victorian floral print. Mahogany's stomach lurched.
"Poisoned? Are you sure?" Guy said, his face stricken.
"Oh, no."
"What?"
She picked up the box. "Licorice and peppermint."
"No good. This is not good at all." Guy's eyes grew wide. "That's one of Neema's tea blends. What if someone laced the tea with poison?" Guy said. "That would mean she was murdered too. What if it was the same person who killed Mike and me? What if it was Neema?"
If Priscilla had been poisoned by the same person who murdered Guy and Magic Mike, that would mean Mahogany was responsible for the librarian's death. If she hadn't brought the photo to the library and asked for help, Priscilla would still be alive. Mahogany shoved the envelope and the tea box into her backpack and headed for the door.
"Where are you going to do?" Guy hopped onto the Vespa behind Mahogany.
Mahogany started to drive but didn't answer.