Mourning Moon (A Guinan Jones Paranormal Mystery #2) (10 page)

She glanced at Embry. "Back in the day, she tried to recruit
me as a witch. I told her she'd binged on too much
Charmed
."

"Why would you mention that to the detective?"

Ione rolled her eyes. "Sinder really believes she has powers, that she can do spells and make potions that work."

Spells and potions. "Did you mention specific spells and potions? I mean, do you think she'd try to harm Desmond?"

She chuckled. "I don't believe in magic or witchcraft. Even if Sinder had told me—"

"
No, not magic. Could she have done something she thought was magic, but actually harmed him?"

Embry sat
on the bed. "I don't think Sinder would have harmed him. Not intentionally."

"If she di
dn't realize she'd harm him..." I trailed off and resisted the urge to bite my nail.

"Wait a second,"
he said. "I thought you were on her side."

I took a deep breath.
"I'm not accusing her of murder. I'm wondering if she performed a spell or made a potion she thought would work on him."

Embry and
Ione looked at each other. "Like a love spell? she said.

I nodded
.

Embry rose from the bed and
walked to the window seat. "What difference does it make. We'll know sooner or later what the police found out. What's the point of questioning Ione?"

She sank into her pillows with a satisfied expression. Must be nice having a boyfriend
to have your back.

"Curiosity."

"Some would call it nosy," he said.

"A little bit of that, too," I conceded. "Well,
I'll head out. I hope you feel better."

Embry winked at Ione. "I'll right back."

On the way downstairs, I heard the babbling sounds of a baby. I stopped in my tracks. Images of Jacob and Jude Hicks flooded my brain.

"What is it?"

"Almost missed a step," I said. When we reached the bottom, I saw a woman stood with a baby in her arms.

"Hello, Mrs. Hamilton
," Embry said.

"
I'm glad you came," she said. Ione needed cheering up, poor thing."

An older version of Ione, the woman's
dimples emerged when she smiled. "I'm Nora Hamilton," she said.

In the few seconds we held eye contact, I sensed anxiety.

"I'm sorry," Embry said. "This is the new girl I was telling you about. Guinan Jones."

My
eyes lingered on the child. When I'd heard Ione had a younger brother, I assumed he was in middle school or something. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hamilton. May I hold him?"

"If h
e lets you," she said. "Asher's unpredictable when it comes to strangers."

I reached for him
and cradled him. He didn't cry or fuss. "Hey, sweetie."

His downy hair looked auburn in the light streaming through the window.
He looked up at me with wide, light brown eyes. Asher hadn't inherited his mother's blue eyes, but he had her dimples. His tiny face spread into a smile.

As Embry and
Mrs. Hamilton talked about Ione fainting at the funeral, I looked into the baby's face. He focused on the buttons on my school blazer. "He's adorable," I said. How old is he?"

"
Five months."

I handed Asher
back to his mother, distracted by unbidden thoughts. Ione had fainted at the funeral, and now she was in bed with the flu. I had the flu once. I'd thrown up a couple of times, but I don't remember needing tissues. Ione looked like she'd been crying. Why?

Pregnant.
When Sinder had said it, I shrugged it off as grief and jealousy. But now...did Desmond want Ione back because she was pregnant with his baby?

When I asked Embry to drop me off at Sinder's house, he didn't ask why. He was curious about something else, though.

"Sinder
wasn't the only reason you wanted to see Ione, was it?"

I
played dumb and furrowed my brow.

He sighed. "You're
thinking about Sinder's comment, wondering if Ione's pregnant."

I bit my lip. "That didn't occur to me until we were leaving. Honestly."

An uncomfortable silence followed. I shifted in my seat.

"Ione isn't pregnant,"
he said.

"
Okay."

"I know t
his because we haven't had sex. She's a virgin."

I cleared my throat. "
You didn't have to....sorry."

He gave me a sideways glance.
When he looked at the road again, I studied his profile. We didn't grow up together, but I had vague recollections of the black-haired, blue-eyed boy who came to my house on visits with his parents. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't picture him as a bully's target.

"Wh
en Ione fainted at the funeral," I said, "she'd been talking to Mrs. Drake. Did she say something to upset Ione?"

"
I didn't hear the conversation, and Ione hasn't mentioned it. I do know that Desmond's mother liked her."

Whatever the woman had said un
nerved her. Or maybe it really was the onset of the flu.

"She went really white," I said.

"Desmond's mother?"

"
Ione. She'd gone stiff, too." I shook my head. "I don't know."

"You like this stuff. I can tell."

I turned my head slowly in his direction. "What stuff?"

"
The mystery," he said. "Trying to figure things out."

I shrugged. "Doesn't everybody love a mystery?"

"On TV, maybe, or in books. But not in real life. Not when it involves me or my friends."

A
ping of guilt bounced around in my stomach. I felt the same way back in Ridge Grove. I hadn't given much thought to how this was affecting Embry. Here I was, questioning people's integrity. Was that really the kind of person I was?

"You ever wonder whether
someone set all this up for you?"

I gaped at him. "
You mean what happened to Desmond? Why would anybody—"

"People do all
sorts of things, Guinan, for reasons most of us can't even guess. Want me to wait?"

I blinked and looked around.
He'd pulled up in front of Sinder's house. "That's okay. There's a Metro station down the street."

"What if she isn't home?"

"I could do with the fresh air." When he didn't return my smile, I said, "Look, I'm sorry if I'm being insensitive. I just have this fear of someone getting away with murder."

Until this moment, I had
n't articulated this. I hadn't even put much thought into it. Is that why I had the ability to hear dead people's thoughts, to uncover the truth about deaths ruled accidents or natural causes?

Embry
stared at the wheel. "Would you believe I've never ridden the subway?"

I peered
around the interior of his SUV. "Yes."

His laughter boomed
through the open window as he drove away. It made me feel better, considering what I was up to.

I st
ood in front of Sinder's house watching the front door. It seemed like a good idea a few minutes ago. Was I giving my friends the impression I suspected them of murder? I had to think about it logically. Although most students knew Desmond was allergic to peanuts, which one had a strong enough motive to kill him? I squared my shoulders and marched to the door. I rang the bell and shifted my weight.

A short woman with fuzzy
blonde hair opened the door. She squinted and looked me up and down. "I don't believe in God, and I'm not interested in—"

"I'm not a Jeho
vah's Witness," I said quickly, pointing to the school crest on my blazer. "I'm a friend of Sinder's."

Her face relaxed into a smile. "Sorry about that, love. Come on in." There
was a slight slur in her voice, and she gave off an odor of alcohol. "Rosie's in her room." She picked up a short glass from a stand near the door and sipped the brown liquid.

I
smiled politely and walked down the hall to find Sinder waiting at her bedroom door.

"Sorry about that."

"About what?"

"My lush of a mother."

I ignored the heat clouding my face and stepped into the room. A soft light from a small lamp on her desk illuminated the space. Sinder had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, the first time I'd seen it styled that way.

"What do you want?"

The eager Sinder had taken a leave of absence. "Making sure you're okay. I've sent you several text messages."

She looked at me with a bored expression. "Really, Guinan. Like you care."

I looked at her unmade bed. She didn't ask me to sit. I pressed on. "Were you, by any chance, at the police station today?"

She lowered her head. "I was there for an hour this morning. I
just didn't want to come to school afterward."

"
Why did you have to go to the station?"

She sighed heavily.
"The detective was here yesterday. She asked a bunch of questions about me and Desmond, then my altar. She called this morning and asked my mother to bring me to the station."

I wasn't surprised.

She folded her arms. "Ione must have told her about the altar. I mean, how else would she know? I doubt you said anything."

I confirmed I
hadn't.

Sinder tugged on her ponytail and plopped down on he
r bed. I brushed crumbs off the desk chair and sat down.

"You know how she is. She thought it would
be hilarious to tell the police about it." Sinder rubbed her face and appeared on the verge of crying. "Ione must have brought up...this thing...that happened a long time ago." She took a deep breath. "The summer she and Desmond got together, I came up with this dumb spell to break them up. He and I laughed about it afterward."

"Did you really believe your spell would work?"

"Yeah," she said, maintaining eye contact for the first time since I'd arrived. "They had this fight, you know? For a minute, just for a second, I thought it worked."

I nodded. "And Desmond told Ione."

"And that...bitch...who claims she doesn't believe in magic, told the cop."

I couldn't blame Ione. In a homicide investigation, everything was fair game.
"Can I see your altar again?" I didn't wait for an answer. I opened the door and pulled on the light. I stared at a bare board.

"The detective took my stuff. All of it."

I spun around. "Why?"

Sinder shrugged. "Maybe she thinks she'll find cyanide or arsenic or something. Whate
ver." She laid back on her bed and closed her eyes.

I turned off the light and
shut the door. I suspected what the detective really wanted—the bottles of oil.

"
Are you coming to school tomorrow?"

"I don't know
," she said, her eyes still closed. "The one good thing about having a drunken mother is she doesn't care if I go to school or not."

My
cheeks grew hot. "What about your father?"

She snorted. "He's in California with his new family. But he sends a che
ck every month and pays tuition."

I
searched for something comforting to say. "I grew up apart from my parents since I was ten. I saw them only on holidays and—"

"That's no
where near the same thing," Sinder said, sitting up. "Your parents love you. Your grandfather loves you.
Everybody
loves you."

The edge in her voice was so sharp,
I flinched.

"Desmond sort of had a crush on you, but you probably didn't notice.
"

I
dismissed it. "I was new blood, as they say. Something different to look at. That's all."

"Yeah, well, maybe I need to start over at new school."

I wanted to tell her that starting over never seemed to work out the way you expected. "If you ever need to talk, you can call me. I hope you know that."

Her pressed her lips together and swallowed
. "I'm sorry. A lot's been going on. But things have to get better. November is Mourning Moon month in the pagan calendar. Time to leave the past behind, celebrate new beginnings."

The words hung in the air like a fresh scent.
I left Sinder's house feeling like some kind of teen cop. Brown leaves on the sidewalk crackled beneath my feet. I tried to imagine Desmond having a crush on me. All I noticed was light flirting. He did that with most girls, even the kind I knew he'd never go out with. He'd been charming and easy-going. He seemed the polar opposite of a bully.

I also found myself wondering whether Ione really was a virgin and what made me question it. I didn't know Desmond or Ione well enough to presume they'd done the deed. Sinder hadn't brought it up.

You didn't ask.

When I arrived home, I was halfway up the stairs when my mother appeared at the top.

"What's wrong?"

"Why do you always ask me that?" she said. "
Does something have to be wrong?"

I noticed both
her hands balled into fists. She saw me looking and relaxed them.

"What's wrong?" I repeated.

She pulled her hair behind her ears. "That detective called. She wants you to come to the station tomorrow morning."