Page 153 of Happily Ever Witch
She was standing there, gaping down at the ghastly sight, when a door swung open beside the flowerbed. It was small and built right into the castle wall. It must have been a servants’ entrance, because it wasn’t decorative or spade-shaped. In fact, it vanished completely when it was closed.
And it didn’t have a doorknob.
The man who came out of the service door seemed to be the gardener. He was a completely ordinary-looking, overall-wearing, anthropomorphized pigeon. Nothing at all noteworthy about him.
Except for the body he was dragging.
“Your dirty blood best not hurt my babies.” He told the corpse in a grouchy voice. “They only like mimsy young girls. Keeps their pedals pure white.”
Esmeralda’s stomach lurched. The dead man was Bluebeard and he’d been stabbed. A lot.
The gardener stopped by the carnivorous roses, chatting to them and careful to stay out of range of their grasping thorns. “Here we are, my babies. Old Pat’s got ya more junk food. I’m not taking off his clothes, like I do with the females, though. No fun in it, for me.”
Using a shovel, he levered Bluebeard’s corpse into the flowerbed. Instantly, hungry vines cinched around it, dragging the dead man deeper into the bushes.
Pat the gardener barely noticed. Leaning against the closed door, he dug into his pocket for a cigarette. He continued to talk to the plants, as if this was a day-to-day routine. “Next time Snow White slaughters someone, I hope that fruitcake does itdownstairs. Hauling corpses is hell on my back.”
Clearly, disposing of murder victims was no big deal to him, aside from his sciatica. Excellent. The fact that he was even more of an asshole than the rest of the Club Kingdom made thissomuch easier for Esmeralda.
The Cheshire Carpet had suggested that she be less like herself and more like Cinderella. Suddenly that advice seemed pretty sound. Esmeralda dropped her playing card disguise and glamoured herself to look exactly like Scarlett’s evil stepsister.
Only her version of Cinderella was naked. Really, really naked.
Cindy had always been blonde and innocent-looking, which was sure to catch the pigeon’s beady eyes. Also, she had great breasts for a lunatic. What better victim could a psychotic murderer ask for?
“Whoops!” Esmeralda hurried towards the pigeon, a “me-oh-my!” look on her face. “I was in such a hurry this morning, I forgot to get dressed. Can you imagine?”
Pat’s expression became one of lustful stupefaction. The cigarette tumbled from his beak unnoticed. He must’ve used all his brainpower gossiping with the flowers, because he seemed incapable of communication with another person. Or possibly he just wasn’t used to nude princesses approaching him.
Whatever the reason behind it, he didn’t call for help. Didn’t order her away. Didn’t even nod. He just stood there and gaped at Cinderella’s naked form. Esmeralda walked right up to him and he didn’t do a damn thing to stop her.
Villainy was almost too simple sometimes.
Esmeralda halted two inches from his feathered-chest and smiled her sweetest smile. “Can you open that door for me?” She asked, gesturing to the one he’d come out of. “I’m all alone and very vulnerable.”
The gardener’s eyes turned crafty. He wordlessly passed a wing over some invisible panel and the door reappeared. Shecould see him mentally sizing her up for plant food. There was no telling how many other girls had disappeared into his garden, after falling into his sleazy grasp.
Even Cindy could aim higher than this prick.
“You know, Bluebeard was an evil little shit.” Esmeralda held the edge of the door with her foot, so it couldn’t close again. “But he deserved a better funeral than that.”
And then she shoved the scumbag pigeon right into the roses.
She caught him so totally off-guard, that she barely had to push, at all. Pat’s muffled squawk was quickly drowned out by all the leaves sealing themselves around his feathered skull. The bushes swallowed him up, the same way they’d swallowed up William and Bluebeard and all the other countless bodies. The killer gardener was compost and now Esmeralda had a way into the Club Palace.
Admiring the verdant crime scene, Esmeralda felt pretty proud of herself.
Sometimes a plan came together perfectly, even when you didn’t exactly have one. She glamoured her newest body a leather mini-dress and fishnet stockings. For once, Cinderella looked presentable and not like a cupcake with too-much frosting. The depraved nutcase should thank her for the fashion upgrade.
“Checkmate to my friend the Cheshire Carpet.” She said out loud.
See? She’d told Trevelyan it was great to have allies.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
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