Prague Murder (6 page)

Emily replied the same answer she had given before. “I did not know him. I do not know him. I do not consider feeling for a pulse and considering CPR to be knowing someone. He was dead when Ingrid caught him.”

“Do you know Katie Laszlo?”

“Is that his wife?”

“Yes.” Igor glanced at Alois and then back at Emily.

“I was just curious,” Emily said, “Because I don’t know either of them and I don’t know if they were married or lovers or siblings or random individuals with the same last name.”

“Let me explain something to you,” Igor said. “You and Ingrid are the only people here who have been murder suspects before.”

Emily did not reply.

“You are a witch. Certainly witchcraft was used in this killing.”

Emily cocked her head and waited. They were not done.

“You and Ingrid live close enough to possibly know this couple.”

Oh
did
they? Three hundred miles was close? Just neighbors, really.

“In addition, you were just near the victim’s home.”

Emily took a deep calming breath in and let it out. And then again. And again. She finally said, “And did you talk to my coven leader about my skill set?”

“You are referring, of course, to your beloved aunt?”

Emily grit her teeth to prevent herself from punching these two right in their giant noses. And then noticed a trickle of smoke in the corner. She took a deep gulp of air, closed her eyes, and began counting.

When she dared to crack her eyes again, the trail of smoke had disappeared.

“What is my motive?” The question was more of a demand.

“I would like to know that myself,” Alois said. “Perhaps you can tell me why you came to our country to kill this poor fellow?”

Emily took another deep breath in, focused on her feet, and watched in horror as the Presidium Investigators pants began to smoke.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she yelped. “You’re just making me so angry, and I’m so bad at magic.”

Igor dumped his cup of water calmly on the cuffs of Alois’s pants.

“Such antics will require us to bind your magic if you do not retain control.”

That was a thought, Emily considered and then asked, “Bind how?”

The two investigators glanced at each other and then back at Emily.

“A simple chain,” Igor said.

“Does it cause damage?”

Igor shook his head.

Emily held out her wrists as if for handcuffs and explained, “It’s not a joke that I suck at magic. It’s not a joke that you’re pissing me off by trying to pawn that guy’s murder off on me. If you keep making me so damn angry, things are going to catch on fire. I won’t do it on purpose, but it will happen.”

“You are saying you have the control of a child,” Igor demanded.

“Probably not even that much,” Emily nodded. “Let me just ask my aunt.”

She pulled out her phone and dialed before they could stop her.

“Auntie,” Emily said to her exhausted sounding aunt who was on speaker phone. “I am a murder suspect again. These Presidium guys want to use some chain deal on me because I set them on fire. Is that going to screw me up forever?”

Hazel cleared her throat and said, “Who died?”

“I don’t know. Some guy from near where I dropped Mary off, so they think it was me.”

“Do they realize that there are like three bajillion people in the greater Portland area?”

Emily looked at the cops who did not reply, but one of them made a note.

“I would guess,” Emily said, “that the answer to that was no.”

“Are they referring to the Chain of Legare?”

Emily looked up at the cops, and they nodded.

“They say yes,” Emily said.

“It won’t hurt you. Are they Presidium? You see the pentacle on the necklace?”

“Yes,” Emily said without double checking. She knew they were. Why bother with asking for no reason.

“Listen well, gentlemen, my niece might be an easy target for your suspicions, but you are wasting your time. And if you think that you can do a shoddy investigation and pin this crime on her, you can be utterly certain that your work will be reviewed at the highest levels.”

“Are you threatening us?”

“I am not.” Hazel’s voice was ice. Or maybe a very cold icepick. “If you can prove my niece did it, I will not stand in your way. However, I am confident that you are wasting your time, and I will not allow you to run roughshod over my niece or her friend simply because they are idiots.”

“Rude,” Emily said, “And sort of nice at the same time.”

“You should also note that if my niece is hurt while wearing your chain, you are responsible for her pain, and I will ensure that you pay.”

“Ahhhh,” Emily said as she wrapped the chain around her wrist and looked up to see if she’d done it right. “I knew you loved me, Auntie.”

“Give Ingrid my love as well. I expect some very good wine for having to have this conversation while you two are supposed to be out of trouble.”

“We were going to buy you wine anyway.”

“Excellent. Then you can add chocolate and even more wine.”

“Are you really that bad at magic,” Alois asked as if the idea were incomprehensible. His big nose seemed to grow larger as he examined her as if she were a bug.

“Oh yeah,” Emily said cheerily, “I even started to get sick and then have blackouts and then my auntie had to teach me how to do magic or I’d die. Now I do it, but it’s worse because I keep setting things on fire. Ingrid has had that problem forever, so I think she infected me.”

“With lack of control,” Igor scoffed.

“Oh, I always had that,” Emily said. “I mean. I wouldn’t drink so much coffee and eat so many tacos if I didn’t. But, I wouldn’t think so much about fire if it weren’t for her. It’s just that she’s set me on fire a few times now. So, I have this underlying fear that she will again. It comes out in me setting things on fire too.”

Igor’s accent had thickened from minuscule to nearly impossible to understand when he said, “You are a fool. And without shame.”

“Rude,” Emily said, but nodded. “I don’t mind the without shame part. I don't have secrets you can’t have. My husband died. He was killed by his brother. I was a suspect. If anyone deserved to be murdered, it was him. But, I didn’t kill him. Why do that when I can just live happy and ignore him? That would have been the better revenge. You should widen your gaze. Just because I don’t care about that Laszlo dude doesn't mean someone out there didn’t care enough to kill him.”

“Why do you think that someone killed him,” Igor asked. He leaned back in his chair and seemed to have let go of the idea that Emily had killed this shapeshifter.

“Well,” Emily said, “I’m not a cop and don’t really think about murder very often. Unless I have to. I prefer not to though.”

Alois cleared his throat and said, “Try to imagine.”

“According to Gabe, that’s my friend Ingrid’s one true love and he’s a sheriff, people kill for money, love, or revenge. And most of the time it’s the family.”

“Igor Zukal saw Katie very near the front of the group when Joe fell.”

“Is that the vampire?”

The two Presidium types nodded.

“He is, as Ingrid would say, pretty.” Emily thought for a second and then said, “Look, I’m not saying his wife did it. She seems pretty dang broken up. If I were to guess, though, I’d peg someone who might have actually known him. And maybe hated him. As for me and Ingrid, neither of us qualify.”

Igor-the-cop sighed and looked down at his sheet. “This is not an impossible crime. One of you killed him. There is no other possibility.”

“What about the ghost,” Emily asked. “She’s all bloody now and scary.”

“Little Agnes has not been violent in the centuries she has haunted St. Agnes Convent.”

“I guess she’s always walked around in the elements of her death, crying blood tears, and wailing?”

“That is new,” Igor said carefully, “But there is no reason to believe that she is the killer yet. Certainly another murder of a magic user could affect her.”

“Look, you’re talking about magic users here. I mean..surely any of us
could
have done it. Given that magic can be powerful. But I sure don’t have the skill set. Or the desire. This sounds like a problem for you Presidium types. It’s why you exist right?”

Igor nodded, but his face was irritated by her comment.

“But I would think,” Emily said seriously, using a logical skill set she rarely employed, “That you’d be more interested in why the vamp disappeared and use the same reasoning the regular cops use. I mean…Ingrid and I ended up figuring out the murder investigations we were involved in, but you know who else did?”

“Who?” Alois looked irritated as well, and Emily supposed she could see why, but honestly, he tried to pin this murder on her. He could suck it.

“Gabe. Ingrid’s honey. And Gabe doesn’t have an ounce of magic in him.”

She rose to leave and said, “I assume you’re done with me for now? Since my Auntie threatened you and everything?”

“That is not why we’re done here,” Igor said.

“Sure, sure,” Emily replied. “She really does know some hot-shot Presidium bloke. But, I also saw your faces when I said the vamp left.”

Alois and Igor rose, just slightly faster than they’d been moving this whole time, and she grinned as they opened the door ahead of her. Not to be polite, but to look for the hot vampire. She hoped he wasn’t the killer. She didn’t think things went well for those who killed with magic.

The world would be a little less muscled and beautiful if anything happened to the handsomer of the Igors.

Chapter 6

Ingrid had assumed they’d come for her next. But the two Presidium doves headed towards the end of the hall. Another Presidium dove came and stood at the end of the hallway watching the group of them. Ingrid could tell they were Presidium by the stiff way they held their shoulders and the general look of command.

Her eyes narrowed. Where was the badge? Where were their rights? At least Gabe had the official job and the badge to go with it. When he’d bossed her around on the island and made her answer questions, he hadn’t been just saying he could. She had barely heard of the Presidium and now they were holding the group of them hostage.

Well, not hostage.

They were investigating like the police would. What would they do when they were done? Just hand it to the cops all wrapped up? But that hadn’t been what they’d done when they realized that Jill Martin’s parents had killed her on Sage Island. Instead, the Presidium had been called in, and they’d taken the parents off island. What had been done to them? Where they in some sort of real Azkaban? Had they been stripped of their powers? Could that even be done? Had they been killed?

Holy mother of pearl…what would happen to the killer today?

Ingrid looked around. Emily was talking to an Asian family across the way. Carol and Cathy were sitting together on that bench, they weren’t even magic users. What did they think of what was happening? Had they just assumed that the Presidium were Prague police?

The tour had started with a spirit of adventure. After Joe’s body had fallen to the ground, people had been just shocked. Now that they were thinking—they were realizing that the Presidium types were sure it wasn’t an accident.

Which meant…that one of the group had done it.

They were starting to group up with those that they knew a little more tightly. And eye those they didn’t know a little more carefully. Or perhaps, that was just the side effect of the ghost. Agnes was well-known in the supernatural community. For a poor dove who’d been murdered, she mostly walked around trailing rose petals and staring off into the distance—supposedly to where her beloved knight had died.

Did the other people think that Agnes had done the killing?

But Ingrid didn’t think that was very likely. For centuries the poor dove had been without rest and wandered after her love. It was said that necromancers had sent her to the world of the dead more than one time. And that each time, she had come back and continued to look for her love.

Was he not in the afterlife?

Was he waiting for her too?

Could he be haunting some moor? Trying to find her?

The idea of it was terrible.

Ingrid wanted to say she got that kind of love, but she didn’t.

She missed Gabe—far, far more than she had expected. It was as if their short reunification had somehow made the distance all the worse. There had been weeks and weeks where she’d given him the cold shoulder or he her. But after they’d made up, and admitted they loved each other, and he’d given her the space to be all crazy and handle her baggage, she wanted nothing more than for him to be here. She wanted to curl into his side, and feel his warmth against her, and be spooked together by the poor, ancient, murdered, witch dove who hadn’t gotten to do the same with her lover.

Or something.

But as much as Ingrid loved Gabe, there wasn’t death and centuries apart between them. She hadn’t traversed the afterlife to make her way back to the place of her death somehow seeking a way to find the spirit of her loved one.