Page 24 of Mystic Justice
‘Did you know Moss Hollings?’
She blinked rapidly. ‘Did I know Moss? Past tense?’
‘I’m sorry to confirm that she died yesterday.’
Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted dead away. Krieg caught her with no visible sign of effort, swung her into his arms and moved forward into the bar. What was it with him and women fainting into his arms? I definitely wasn’t jealous. No way.
The bar was full of chatter and laughter when we walked in but it halted abruptly as the occupants took in the unconscious woman in Krieg’s arms. ‘Jane!’ someone shouted, alarmed.
Jane’s eyes fluttered and she moaned as she came round. Krieg set her down in a chair and the rest of the staff fluttered around her. She sat up. ‘Moss is dead!’ she announced loudly to the whole room.
My lips pressed together and I made an effort to suppress a frown. I had wanted to impart that news myself so I could watch people’s reactions; instead my gaze now had to dart here, there and everywhere as I tried to get a handle on what they were feeling. Without exception, they were shocked and upset and the jovial mood that had been there a moment earlier faded away.
Death had a way of killing the mood.
‘Listen up,’ I said loudly. ‘We’ll be interviewing all of you, but I want to start with anyone who worked closely with Moss or saw her on her last shift on Tuesday.’
A tall man frowned then spoke. ‘We’ve spoken to the Connection already, when Moss went missing,’ The bounce on his toes told me he was some sort of shifter; my money was on werewolf.
Werewolves shared a body with their wolf counterpart, allowing them to shift into man or wolf as needed but even when human they retained an added edge of stealth and strength. Until recently, the wolves had struggled to communicate with their human side but according to a recent briefing, Lucy Barrett, the current leader of the werewolves, had resolved the issue. Now they could speak freely once more. Intel onhowshe’d done it was sketchy, but werewolf violence had gone down by fifty percent in the last few months, so I didn’t really care how she’d achieved it. I was just pleased that she had.
‘Shut it, Ruben,’ Jane snapped. ‘This is forMoss.The least we can do is help the police.’
He grimaced and didn’t argue – but now I was looking more closely at Ruben.
Channing and I divided the employees between us and started work. It was no coincidence that all of the witches were on my list. Krieg had been right: Moss had been afraid of drowning, which made me all the more certain that her fear had been harvested through dark magic to give a power-hungry witch a significant power bump.
Sandra Jaxim, the bar’s manager, cried a lot but it felt false, like most of the tears were for show. I’d bet that she’d soon be taking some paid leave because of ‘emotional’ stress. There had been a little flash of something in her eyes before the tears started and she toyed with her blonde curls as we spoke. Was that a tic or a tell?
She was wearing the same uniform as the others – black trousers, white shirt – but hers were of a notably superior quality.
‘How well did you know Moss?’ I asked her.
‘How well do we know anyone?’ She sniffed delicately. ‘She was a nice girl. Warm. Kind. Great singing voice.’
‘How was her work?’
‘She was always on time,’ Sandra said firmly, pulling down a curl and letting it bounce back up.
‘And?’
She hesitated. ‘She wasn’t our hardest worker,’ she admitted quietly, one finger twirling into another curl. ‘Always drumming on tables or humming or moving to the music. You had to remind her to do her job because she sometimes got lost in the music, but despite that she was a really popular waitress. She had a big smile and an even bigger heart – she had a way with customers and they always forgave her if it took a while for her to fetch their drinks. She always pulled in big tips. She hadcharisma, I guess.’ She seemed rather bitter, as if charisma was something that had passed her by.
‘Did you get on well with her?’
Her twirling finger stopped. ‘Oh yes, everyone did.’
She was wrong.Someonehadn’t. ‘Did anyone have any issues with her? Complain about her lackadaisical attitude?’
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Everyone adored Moss.’
‘Where were you last night between the hours of 9pm and 1am?’ Without having a firmer time of death from Kate, I left the window deliberately vague.
She paled, swallowed hard then pushed the curl behind her ear. Was that an outward hint of inward turmoil? ‘Me? Last night? I was here, working until closing time.’
‘What time was that?’
‘Close? It’s midnight on Friday and Saturday, 11pm the rest of the week.’
