Page 6 of Mystic Justice
The dryad was wearing a white, long-sleeved, smock dress but since her arms were a little long for the sleeves, I’d have wagered that the clothes weren’t her own. She was barefoot and had some scrapes on her heels. Any mud had long since been washed away in the lake but I was sure she’d fought her killers, digging her feet in as best she could.
Her bright pink hair was bound in a French braid; some strands were loose, as if it had been done days ago and they’d strayed from their once-neat binding. Algae clung to it in dull green patches and bits of plant life were tangled in it. The weave echoed the tree’s cocoon and it hurt my heart a little; her panic must have been so great that even the weeds had tried to help her, to comfort her.
I straightened and turned to the dryads. ‘Do you know her?’
Fern shook her head, as did Jingo. She was visibly distressed; her eyes had filled with tears and her bottom lip was wobbling. Not everyone was cut out to see corpses day after day. Some days I wondered if I was.
‘Do you know everyone local?’ Channing asked Fern. It was a good question.
‘Noteveryonelocal but certainly everyone in my grove. She’s not local to Chester. But … she does look familiar. I think I’ve met her but I can’t place where or when. I’m sorry I can’t be more specific.’
‘That’s okay. We’ll identify her,’ I reassured her. The pink hair was distinctive and I doubted it would take long to find her name and her family. ‘Can you ask the tree what it saw?’ I asked. I didn’t mind that it made me sound nuts because I’d learned to take advantage of anything and everything around me, no matter how bizarre.
Fern nodded and her eyes slid closed as she lay her hands against the tree again. After a few moments, she stroked it and opened her eyes again. ‘She called for help,’ she said mournfully. ‘The tree answered. It is distressed.’ She stroked it again.
‘Can you get it to move back to where it should be?’
She nodded. ‘Of course.’ She spoke to it again but nothing seemed to happen.
‘Is it going to move?’ Channing asked curiously.
‘It will take its time,’ the dryad explained, still soothing the tree with gentle movements. ‘By tomorrow morning it will be back where it should be, but it will move more slowly than it did last night. It damaged its roots by moving quickly to try and save her.’
‘Please let it know we are grateful for what it did.’
‘I have already conveyed gratitude,’ she assured me.
There was a crunch on the gravel path that led to the lake and I looked up, expecting to see the ME, Kate Potter. Instead, my eyes met stormy silver ones: Krieg’s.
Despite myself, something warm rolled over me at the sight of him. He was a complication all right, but I was damned if I wasn’t pleased to see him. I watched him approach, unable to tear my eyes from his imposing frame. At over seven feet tall, he towered over most males – and it wasn’t just his height that made him imposing. He had muscles on muscles, and his sharp tusks protruded from his jet-black hair.
His eyes darkened when he saw who was standing next to me. ‘Jingo,’ he greeted the doppelganger tightly.
‘Your Excellence,’ Jingo drawled. ‘What an unexpected pleasure.’
Krieg grunted. His eyes passed over Sam, who was ignoring all the posturing and carrying on with his job as usual. I’d always regarded him as hard-working and dedicated, but now I noted that his eyes stayed down deliberately to signal to Jingo and Krieg that he wasn’t a threat. He was making himself as small and inoffensive as possible.Just a man doing his job, nothing to see here.It made me feel sad for him, that he’d never stick his head above the parapet and actuallylive,risk something, anything.Sam really wasn’t the man I’d thought he was.
My eyes lingered on Krieg’s broad frame. Maybe it wasn’t amanI was after. Maybe it was an ogre.
‘Hello,’ I said.
‘Inspector Wise,’ he greeted me and a small smile tipped his lips.
‘What are you doing here?’ Luckily my question came out as curious rather than accusatory.
His smile widened. ‘Making the stars align.’
Chapter Four
Jingo excused himself and Fern soon afterwards. The doppelganger had looked a little disappointed, and I got no small amount of satisfaction out of that. For all his gentlemanly airs, he’d stolen Ash Aspen’s body by starting a feud, one that had begun when he’d killed a young dryad named Ivy Blossom with a pair of scissors. Jingo was no saint; no matter how hard he tried to hang a halo over his head, I knew it was resting on devil’s horns.
When he’d gone, Loki descended in a graceful flutter and landed lightly on me. ‘Rude Jingo,’ he said, ruffling his feathers.
‘I know, bud. You okay?’
He did a little hop on my shoulder then his head twisted and he looked pointedly at Sam. ‘Loki poop?’ he offered, making me smile despite myself.
‘No point,’ Krieg rumbled.
