Page 39 of These Witches Don't Burn
I settle onto my bed and flash a grin, accepting a trio of cookies. “Now, this is how you get on my good side. I have brownies cooling downstairs for later, too.”
“Was I not on your good side before?” Benton mimes a dagger to the heart. “Hannah, you wound me.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” I take a bite and groan appreciatively. The only thing better than chocolate with peanut butter is chocolate with mint, especially in the summer. “So,” I say around bites, “where do we start?”
“I googled investigation tips, and everyone says proper notes are essential.” Benton flips open the notebook. The first page is pristine. “We should start with what we already know.”
“Did you buy a new notebook for this?” I shove the last cookie into my mouth and reach for more. “And here I thought Gemma was the biggest school supply addict in Salem.”
Heat creeps up Benton’s neck and flushes his cheeks. “What can I say? I like a fresh start.” He writesArson Investigationin large block print and turns the page. “Do we think whoever set the fire at Nolan’s is the same person who killed that raccoon last week?”
“I don’t think so,” I say, shaking my head. “Evan was outside when the fire started, so he couldn’t have done it.”
Benton looks up from his page. “Wait, back up.Evankilled the raccoon? Why? How do you know that?”
My answer tangles up in my throat. I can’t tell Benton that I used spelled stones to pry the answers from Evan, so I ignore thehowpart of his question. “He was going through some tough stuff with his family. I guess he hoped the ritual would help.” Thoughts of Evan’s dad, of his accident, raise goose bumps along my skin. I wonder how Evan’s holding up, if his misguided spell has brought him any more heartache or trouble. “But like I said, he was outside when the fire started. He’s not our culprit.”
“Not Evan. Got it. So where do we look for suspects? There were tons of people at the party.” Benton wiggles the pen between his fingers, his forehead creased with concentration. “There’s no way we’ll remember every single person there.”
“Let’s back up. You’re technically a witness, right? Walk me through what happened after you followed Nolan.” My head fills with the disgusting comments Nolan made when he caught Morgan and me kissing. Fury simmers somewhere deep inside. He’s such a fucking creep. “You did get him to erase that video, right?”
Benton nods, which calms my rage. A little. “I caught up to him in the living room. He was yelling at a pair of sophomores for breaking his mom’s antique vase. It took a little convincing, but he deleted the video.”
“Was he upset? Enough to go after you?”
“You think this was Nolan?” Benton taps his pen against the notebook. “I don’t know. I mean, how pissed do you have to be to set your own house on fire?”
“I’m guessing more pissed than he was,” I concede, since I don’t have anything besides a bitter loathing for the asshole to argue his guilt. There’s no evidence against him, and if he was that pissed about a single vase breaking, I doubt he’d set fire to his home. “What happened after you left Nolan?”
Benton writesSuspectson the top of his page and starts the list with Nolan—followed by several question marks. “I went looking for a bathroom. Someone was puking in the one on the first floor, so I went upstairs.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“Yeah, actually,” he says, and looks up at me. “Veronica. She was arguing with Savannah. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but when I opened the door, they both looked really intense.”
“They were in the bathroom together?”
“No. It was a bedroom. I found the bathroom on the other end of the hall.” Benton writes both of their names on his suspect list. “There was definitely something shady going on between them.”
“Veronica didn’t start the fire. My ex is many things, but she isn’t an arsonist.” I doubt we evenhavea true arsonist on our hands, but I promised myself I’d humor Benton’s theories. I’m more concerned about what Veronica was doing closed up in a bedroom with Savannah.
“What about Savannah?” he asks, crossing out Veronica’s name without pressing further, which I appreciate.
“I don’t know much about her. What’s her motive?”
Benton grabs another Thin Mint and eats the whole thing in one bite. “Maybe she thinks Nolan killed the raccoon, which would make him the reason her wrist is broken,” he says, his mouth still full. He swallows and continues, looking pensive.“Maybe it wasn’t about me. Maybe Nolan was the target.”
“I don’t know, Benton.” I flash a grin and waggle my eyebrows at him. “Maybe there’s something between you and Savannah I don’t know about.”
“I’ve only had one crush since I moved to Salem, and it wasn’t Savannah.” Benton’s cheeks flush red, but his words make my stomach sink to the floor.
“Benton...”
He holds up his hands. “No, I’m sorry.” His whole posture deflates, but the red in his face doesn’t fade. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I promise I’ll get over it. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
I nod, but the awkward silence stretches between us, chipping away at the easy banter we usually have. “Let’s take a brownie break,” I say when I can’t stand it any longer. Benton agrees, so I lead him downstairs to the kitchen and slice into the brownies, still warm from the oven. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. “Do you want a corner piece?”
He recoils. “Middle piece or bust, Walsh.”
