Mahogany checked the time. Her alarm clock beamed seven a.m. at her, its green light steady. A pool of morning sun streamed in through her window. She stretched and rubbed her eyes. While the ciders had helped her fall asleep, she felt anything but rested. She caught her reflection in the mirror hanging on her bedroom door and pulled the satin sleeping cap revealing her faded pink curls. She needed to make an appointment at Gothmother's Salon. Things were getting dire. But first, she needed to get her Vespa from Tony's.
The bone needle compass rattled on her nightstand, grabbing her attention. Mahogany picked it up, the needle spinning wildly. The needle made from the wing bone of a Jersey Devil slowed before stopping. The compass was part of Mahogany's side hustle. Whenever magical Folk passed away, the compass led her to them, where she collected any enchanted objects before they fell into human hands. Mahogany raised her eyes and found herself staring at the corner of her room. The same direction in which Tony's house lay. Perfect. She'd grab her scooter and figure out who died.
She tried to tame her curls in the bathroom and instead settled for confining them to a scarf. With deft precision, Mahogany wrapped her hair with the colorful fabric and headed out the door.
The morning sun raked through the town with a sultry heat. A cool breeze played with the slowly changing leaves and brushed across Mahogany's bare neck.
As she rounded the corner to Tony's, Mahogany expected to find a quiet morning bustle of morning joggers and foot traffic commuters in the town square. Instead, several police cars sat helter-skelter in the street, blocking traffic. A long line of police tape cordoned off the town's square around the clock tower. Near the tower's front door sat an ambulance, its lights off, back doors open, waiting for their grim charge.
Mahogany stopped short. The scent of death tainted the cool morning breeze. Ahead of her on the street, two uniformed police officers made their rounds, moving from house to house, interviewer residents.
"Why, if it isn't Spider-Woman."
Mahogany's gaze shot in the direction of the voice. Before her stood Detective Teresa Sawyer, dressed in a white button-up top tucked into charcoal-gray trousers, and sensible tennis shoes clad her feet. A well-tailored suit jacket revealed a sliver of her holstered sidearm. Her dark, voluminous curls cascaded over her shoulders in winding rivers.
"Well, hello, Detective Sawyer," Mahogany said, eying Sawyer's curls and making a mental note to ask where she got her hair done. She scratched absentmindedly at the scarf, taming her locks. "Who brings you here this morning?" Mahogany nodded to the ambulance attendants loading a gurney with a black body back strapped to it into the vehicle.
"I might ask you the same thing." The detective's harsh gaze traveled over Mahogany, scrutinizing every inch.
"I'm picking up my Vespa." She nodded to the sunshine yellow scooter parked outside Tony's cozy cottage.
Sawyer followed Mahogany's gaze and nodded. "Why did you leave your bike here?"
"I had too much to drink, so I walked home."
The detective pulled a notepad and pen from the inside pocket of her jacket. "What time was that?"
"About ten or so last night."
"And what were you doing here?"
"Evelina, Tony, and I were playing Rabbit Rabbit. Have you played it? It's a card game about superstitions."
Detective Sawyer blinked at Mahogany. "Can't say that I have. What time did you arrive?"
"A little after seven."
"And Mr. Applegate and Miss Moore will corroborate that?"
"I don't see why not," Mahogany said, a frown darkening her face. "What exactly happened?" She peered again at the departing ambulance. Its lights remind dark—the siren silent.
"We're still trying to figure that out," the detective said, not looking up from her notes. "Did you hear anything out of the ordinary while in the house or as you left?"
Mahogany shook her head. "I left with Evelina, and we were busy chatting, so I didn't notice anything."
"If you remember something, please get in touch," the detective snapped her notepad shut, pocketing it.
Mahogany gave the detective a mock salute and turned to retrieve her Vespa.
The uniformed officers had made it to Tony's front door, where they stood questioning him. Mahogany's gaze collided with Tony's over one of the officer's shoulders.
He gave Mahogany a slight smile that carried a tone of sadness so out of place on Tony's lovely, golden face that Mahogany's breath caught in her throat.
"You should probably get your bike and head home. There's nothing for you to do here, and if I discover you sticking your nose into this investigation like last time, I'm arresting you for obstruction," the detective warned.
Mahogany kept her gaze locked on Tony as he closed the door. Fighting the urge to march past the officers and confront him, beating the problem out of him if necessary, Mahogany mounted her scooter and pulled the compass from her pocket.
The bone needled pointed straight at the clock tower. Mahogany gazed past the police cruisers, crime scene tape, and milling officers and sighed. She'd have to sneak into the crime scene and try to retrieve the enchanted objects later.
***
"Did you hear what happened?" Neema greeted Mahogany as she entered the Haughty Hemlock from their home attached at the rear of the building.
"Does it have to do with the clock tower?" Mahogany asked, scratching her scalp underneath the scarf. The day was warmer than anticipated, and her scalp prickled with sweat.
"Yes, but how did you know that?" Neema stopped filling a jar with dried chamomile flowers and eyed Mahogany suspiciously. "You haven't been snooping around, have you?"
"I left my bike at Tony's last night, and when I went to get it this morning, I saw the ambulance take someone away in a body bag. I also ran into Detective Sawyer."
Neema sniffed at the mention of the detective. "Well, I'm sure she didn't tell you anything important." She shook more chamomile into the jar. "Matt Hader's been murdered."
"Matt Hader, that was here yesterday arguing with RW?" Mahogany said, her heart quickening. "Matt Hader, who I served earl gray to? That Matt Hader?"
"Mahogany, don't be stupid, of course, that Matt Hader." Neema rolled her eyes. "I know it's a shock, having just spent time with him less than twenty-four hours ago."
"Any idea what happened?" Mahogany asked, unwrapping a homemade toffee and popping it into her mouth.
"Those are for the customers," Neema scolded. "Euryale came by this morning to thank you for the skin cream, and she told me about Matt. I'm not sure how she heard about it. She seldom leaves Humbaba."
Mahogany peered across the street at Humbaba through the Haughty Hemlock's window. A pale hand held back the dark curtains, spying on the world beyond.
"By the way, nice work on the skin cream. Euryale looks great. What did you use?" Neema finished filling the chamomile jar and moved on to the next.
"Oh, I don't remember," Mahogany said with a shrug. "It was a recipe I found online." A seed of warmth bloomed in Mahogany's chest. She'd used a spell to craft Euryale's cream and had only given it to her yesterday morning. The cream had worked much faster than she'd expected. After using a revealing spell on a mirror in the brownstone to help solve Guy's murder last summer, Mahogany had decided to try a little experiment, and it seemed to be working. But how? How was she, a human, doing magic?
"She told me to tell you," Neema paused to pull a scrap of paper from the strap of her bra, "se efcharistó fíle mou." She pulled a face at the note. "What does it mean?"
"Thank you, my friend," Mahogany said.
Evelina burst through the apothecary door at that moment, startling Mahogany and Neema. "There's been another murder. The police just questioned me at work."
Mahogany gazed at Evelina. The usually graceful Fae was in a state. Her wind-tangled hair fell over her shoulders in ratty clumps, her creamy skin was flushed and shiny with sweat, and she still wore her dirty work apron. "Did you run here from Hot Brews?"
"That's not the point. Matt Hader's dead." Evelina's violet eyes shone with a mixture of dread and excitement.
"Yeah, I know. Detective Sawyer has already threatened to lock me up if I get involved. Plus," Mahogany said, rubbing her backside, "my tailbone is still tender. I have no desire to break another part of my body searching for a murderer."
"Evelina, you work across the street from the police station. Have you heard what happened to Matt?" Neema raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"He was strangled with a wrench." Evelina headed for the jar of caramels and plucked one from the bowl.
"A wrench? How?" Mahogany frowned, trying to picture the scene and shying away from the image.
"I guess he was knocked silly with it, then whoever did it knelt over him and–" Evelina pantomimed, pressing the wrench into Matt Hader's imaginary neck and popping the caramel into her mouth.
"That's awful," Neema said, placing her hand to her throat.
"Oh, but that's not the crazy part." Evelina's gaze darted between Mahogany and Neema, ensuring she had their full attention. "The clock tower door was bolted, the security chain was latched, and all the windows were locked."
Mahogany cocked an eyebrow. "The clock tower was locked from the inside? That is interesting."
"Could someone have magicked the chain into position?" Neema asked.
Mahogany snorted. "Not likely. The clock tower had all sorts of enchantments to keep it safe in case a band of pitchfork-wielding humans descended upon the town."
"Right," Evelina said, snapping her fingers. "I remember that field trip from elementary school. Matt told us all about it."
Neema shrugged at Mahogany's comment. "How do you know so much about Matt's murder?" Neema asked.
"The same way I know the Ace Hitchen's found Matt's body," Evelina said, pinching another caramel.
"Her confections loosen the tongues of humans, and Evelina has excellent hearing. Why does she get to eat the candy?" Mahogany said, scowling at Evelina.
"She's practically a customer," Neema said, brushing Mahogany's words from the air with a wave of her hand. "Ace from Poisoned Pen found Matt? And it would help if you focused on what's important. There's another murderer at large."
"You're right. Poor Matt. That's awful," Mahogany said, narrowing her eyes at Evelina as she took another caramel and ate it with relish. "Maybe Ace did it."
"I doubt that. Ace and Matt were good friends," Neema said, her face pulled into a frown. "That's such a shame. Ace must be heartbroken over finding Matt like that."
"You know," Evelina said, her words slurred by the sugary sweet, "Solving Matt's murder would be a great excuse for you and Tony to spend some quality time together." Her eyes twinkled at the thought.
Mahogany shook her head. "I think that ship has sailed."
Evelina stomped her foot. "Mahogany, you give up way too easy."
From the corner of Mahogany's eye, she watched Neema nod her head.
Anger brewed in her chest. "I do not."
"Do so," Evelina argued.
"He not into me, all right?" Mahogany sighed, her anger fizzling into a defeated heap of sadness. "We tried it, and it didn't work out. Please leave it alone." She turned on her heel and headed through the kitchen door.
Evelina and Neema watched Mahogany go but remained silent and didn't follow.
______
AN: Poor Matt! I wonder who could want him dead?
What do you think Mahogany should do? Should she pursue Tony or let it lie?
Have you ever been in a similar situation? Unrequited crushes are the worst.