Page 46 of Brimstone and Broomsticks
“Let’s consider the first one,” I said. “Clinton is her secret lover. She gets carried away and seriously injures him. Hides him in a panic while he’s still clinging to life, then frames me for it with a bucket of blood.”
“She didn’t have anything to do with or knowledge about the bucket of blood,” Cassie corrected me. “Fae can’t lie, and even if she could, I believe Alberta on that one. Besides, as rough as trolls can get in the sack, and I donotknow that from personal experience, werewolves are hardy. She wouldn’t have almost killed Clinton banging him, especially the night before the full moon when the wolves are at their strongest.”
I shrugged. “She just said she was with her lover, not what they were doing. What if she was out at another bar with this lover, and Clinton happened to be there all beat up?”
“Then she would have used the bar as an alibi and not risk exposing her ‘lover’,” Cassie countered. “If she took the risk to mention the lover, then she was probably alone with him or her and that’s her only alibi.”
“Okay. Scenario two, she saw Clinton at the deadfall.” I ticked the number off on my fingers. “She was dropping off her treasure, and there he was.”
“Doing what? What would Clinton be doing out there?” Cassie snorted. “It was the night before the full moon. He’d be either fighting, hunting, or screwing.”
“Hunting?” I suggested. “Tracking a deer and he runs across Alberta?”
“Maybe she was on her way, ran into Clinton, then got freaked out that he’d know where she stashed her treasures?”
“And killed him rather than have him reveal her secrets?” I nodded. “She claims she didn’t have anything to do with the blood at my hotel room, but maybe she killed Clinton, freaked out and told her lover, and this lover covered it all up for her?”
Cassie laughed. “First off, although I’m positive that trolls can kill, and that under the right circumstances, Alberta could kill, I don’t think she’d whack Clinton over that. Especially because Clinton wouldn’t give a crap about her treasure stuff. Alberta doesn’t even register on his radar. Besides if he saw her hidey hole, she’d just move her stuff elsewhere, not attack him. And as I said before, Clinton is a werewolf one night away from the monthly event that makes shifters pretty close to unbeatable. Alberta is young for a troll. There’s a slim chance she could have prevailed, but she would have been sporting a whole lot of cuts and bruises.”
I nodded. “Maybe she had help. Her and her lover were out at the deadfall or wherever her secret stash is. They run across Clinton. Kill him, or almost kill him. Leave him in the woods and the lover covers it up.”
Cassie bit her lip, a frown creasing her forehead. With a deft twist of the wheel, she turned the car down a side road. “I still don’t think Alberta would kill or even whack Clinton over his knowing where her hidey-hole is.”
“But his knowing who her lover is…?” I shot Cassie a knowing glance.
“I can’t see Clinton giving two shits about a married guy cheating on his spouse with Alberta, but maybe in a panic…” She shook her head. “None of these sounds right to me, but I’m concerned enough that Clinton may be lying in the woods bleeding out a few hundred yards from that deadfall that I’m going to head back and check things out more thoroughly. Got any more theories, hellboy?”
“I haveallthe theories,” I told her. “Scenario three, or is it four, is where Alberta sees Clinton going out to her treasure spot, they hook up, and he spends the night with her. He’s right now at her hidey hole in a sex coma, waiting for Alberta to come back with bacon and eggs for round two.”
Cassie burst out laughing. “Okay, that’s one that I actually like.”
I waved a finger, making an additional point. “Alberta wouldn’t mention where Clinton is because her other forbidden lover might get jealous. I’ll bet he turns up in a few hours minus his pants, a shit-eating grin on his face.”
She chuckled. “Except none of that explains Clinton’s blood in your bedroom. He doesn’t roll like that sexually, and Alberta denied having anything to do with that. Besides, Clinton isn’t exactly Alberta’s type. Although I’m the first to admit shifters have a certain sort of appeal.”
I let out a growl at that statement.
“Not as much appeal as demons,” she added with a grin.
Good. “So you think Clinton may be out in the woods somewhere?”
“Possibly.” She glanced over at me. “That offer you made? The one about helping me with a spell? Think I’d like to take you up on that.”
“A spell to get the truth out of Alberta?” I asked.
“No, a spell to see where she’s been.”
I nodded. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”
“She only said she saw him alive. That could have beenaftersomeone drained a gallon of blood out of him,” Cassie said. “It fits the timeline better if she stumbled across him while returning from her treasure spot.”
“So Alberta came across a terribly injured Clinton in the woods and just walked away?” I shook my head. “Wow, and they callusdemons.”
“You’re right. I can’t see her doing that.” Cassie frowned in thought. “I can’t see her just leaving him lying there, but in all honestly, trolls don’t think of physical injury the same way that humans, or even werewolves do. Her idea of medical care would have been…interesting.”
I reached out to rest my hand on her thigh. “I’ve gotta say, this has got to be the most fun I’ve had since the French revolution. Bring it on Cassie. What’s our next step here? How are you going to do this spell?”
“Some rocks. You. And…” She winked and held up her hand. “This.”
“A hair?”
“A troll hair to be exact.Alberta’stroll hair.”
“You stole a hair. You stood there in her doorway and…what, plucked it out of her head? Off her sweater? What?”
“I’m not revealing my hair-stealing secrets to you,” she teased. “Anyway, we’re going to go back to the deadfall. I’m going to cast a spell with your help. And we’re going to trace that troll’s steps. Maybe we’ll find a cave full of treasure. Maybe we’ll find an injured werewolf. Maybe we’ll find nothing.”
I nodded. “I’ve got a feeling in my leathery wings we’re going to find something.”
“So do I, hellboy.” She nodded. “So do I.”
