Page 58 of Dead & Breakfast
“They were just being teenagers, Sal.”
“Brody is a teenager, too,” Theodore said pointedly. “And you think he might have killed George Roth.”
“Yes, but…something’s bugging me about that. We still don’t know why he did it.” Arthur leaned back, eyeing the teacup. The contentsdidsmell awfully pleasant.
“Problems with authority?” Salvatore supplied.
“Maybe Brody had a change of heart about the whole paranormal business. If he was altering his friends’ tags, perhaps he was willing to go further.” Arthur chewed his lip and let his thoughts spill forth without filter. “Who was the biggest anti-paranormal voice in town? The mayor. Maybe they fought and it went wrong. Or maybe he planned it from the start.”
“If that were the case, why would he try to then pin it on us?” Sal asked.
“We won’t know unless we can ask him.”
“I hope he pulls through.” Theodore let out a long sigh and collected Salvatore’s empty cup. “I’ll have to wish you a good night now. I’m exhausted, and I have to be up early tomorrow.”
“Yes, of course,” Salvatore said. “You’ve been a lovely host. Next time, you’ll have to unexpectedly break into our place. Arthur will make muffins.”
“I look forward to it.”
As Theodore ushered them to the front door, Arthur put his notebook away.
“Good night,” he said to Theodore, with a stiff nod.
“Night. Oh, and next time you break into someone’s house to snoop for evidence, make sure they aren’t home.”
Chapter 16
Theodore’s advice camein handy much sooner than Arthur expected.
“Are you sure this is wise?” Arthur asked as Sal poked his head around the back gate of Dr.Young’s home. The silver truck wasn’t in the driveway and none of the lights were on, but still Arthur approached with caution. “Dr.Young wasn’t exactly brimming with hospitality the last time I visited, and his display in the coffee shop…If he’s home, he might just shoot us on sight.”
“Unless he’s loaded his gun with miniature wooden stakes, I think we’ll be okay. Besides, he’ll be at the ER all night.” Salvatore’s bright mood dimmed for a moment. “Too busy taking care of his mortally wounded son to worry about trespassers.”
“True enough,” Arthur said, but the lightness in his tone didn’t match the anguish of his insides. “What are we going to do about the threshold issue? We’re not exactly on texting terms with Dr.Young, so I doubt the trick you pulled with Theodore will work twice.”
“Not to worry!” Sal leaped over the flower beds, beheading atulip on his way to the door. Even in the dark, the flowers Arthur had tended to earlier in the day were looking better, their previously drooping stalks perkier.
Arthur followed more slowly, but when he reached the porch, the source of Sal’s confidence became abundantly clear.
“No. It can’t be that easy.”
Sal grinned, pointing at the faded doormat, helpfully displaying in curly cursive letters the wordWelcome.
“You and I both know he doesn’t want us here, and this is merely an anachronistic gesture—”
“Of what, the 1960s?” Sal clasped the doorknob. “Curses like ours are always letter of the law rather than spirit. Why should we suffer because the stuffy old fae who originated our kind didn’t think to consider the existence of welcome mats? Anyway, I’m about ninety-five percent sure some modern rebel fae are the ones who invented them in the first place, just to mix things up, so of course we should use them.”
Arthur flexed his fingers nervously. “Oh, I don’t know, Sal. It just doesn’t seem right—”
“If you’d like, we can go back and ask Theo. As a lawyer, I’m sure he’d be able to elucidate the issue for us.”
“Fine, fine,” Arthur grumbled, shooing Sal forward. “I trust you.”
Salvatore tried the door, but it was locked. Fortunately, Trident Falls was the kind of place that invited lax security measures.
“Welcome mats really do have so many uses,” Sal said, flipping it up to reveal a spare key, which he used to unlock the deadbolt before replacing it.
“Good thing, too.” Arthur wasn’t sure he could stomach bending fae lawandpicking a lock in the same night. It was all a bit too exciting.
