Page 148 of A Curse On Black Lake
Killian follows closely behind, and I look around, but it’s all clean, exactly like we left it. I put all the journals and books back where they belonged. I knew it would have made Grams smile. Since I cleaned up after myself.
“This looks the same,” Killian says in my ear.
I spot another Death Flower sitting on Grandma Lily’s recipe journal in the corner, and my hands start shaking. Killian subtly follows my line of sight.
Hewas in here too.
Glancing over my shoulder, Wyatt remains in the hall, watching us carefully. I step away from Killian to the other side of the room, pretending I’m inspecting things as Killian swipes the other flower. The nausea in my stomach eases a little at how Killian simply knew what I was thinking.
“This is all normal I think. If anything was touched, it was put exactly where it was found,” I say to Wyatt.
Wyatt purses his lips and writes in his little notebook.
Killian returns to my side.
“You didn’t check the apothecary yet,” Wyatt says.
“I know,” I rasp. It’s probably because of guilt. But it has to be done.
Killian closes the door to the study and follows me to the apothecary. Due to the state of my garden, I’m hoping andpraying that it’s untouched. Otherwise, I really will be screwed. It’s hard enough getting people to come in. But now there’s a dead body that looks like some kind of macabre ritual sacrifice in my backyard. People in this town will probably think I’m the one who did it, and there’s no way they’re going to come in here to buy a healing salve for a scar.
I’m finished.
Herbs fill my nose as I step into the small shop area, and I lose a long breath. Everything is in pristine condition, untouched.
“Anything?” Wyatt asks.
“No, it’s all fine,” I mutter.
Cricket’s is probably expecting their soap delivery, and I finished these last week.I reach for the bars, and Wyatt startles me.
“I’m sorry you can’t take anything with you. This is a crime scene,” Wyatt says.
“I can’t take blocks of soap? What do these have to do with a murdered woman?” I snap.
“Come on, Wyatt, you know this isn’t necessary,” Killian says.
Wyatt’s eyes narrow on Killian, and he drops his focus on mine. “Fine, you can’t take anything else,” he mutters.
I reach for one of my bags, setting the soap in it. Killian stands behind me and cages me in from behind and drops the Death Flower in the bag with my other things. It seems like Wyatt didn’t know it was there, and the last thing I want is to give him a reason to go through my ancestors’ journals. It feels violating to me. Killian is one of the few people who isn’t a Greer to actually read through them.
Killian steps back and takes the bag for me.
“When can I come back?” I ask Wyatt.
“We will call you,” Wyatt grunts.
“I don’t have a cell phone,” I mutter.
He rolls his eyes. “I’ll call Killian’s house.”
I nod and start past Wyatt. He grabs my arm, and I try to wiggle out of his grip. Killian might have growled behind me, but I lift my chin, meeting Wyatt’s eyes.
“We may have more questions, so please be available when we need you.”
“And I expect everything to be exactly how you found it in my home,” I say. I incline my head once and jerk my arm from his hand.
When I get to the kitchen door, Killian isn’t behind me. He’s in Wyatt’s face, and before I have a chance to step between them, Killian hauls off and socks Wyatt in the jaw.
