Mourning Moon (A Guinan Jones Paranormal Mystery #2) (16 page)

"I could get into trouble for this," Detective Czarnecki said.

We sat in the police station lobby.
She'd called and asked to see me. Important case developments had turned up.

"It's not our policy to alert people, especially
not a minor, about an upcoming announcement."

I followed her lead and
kept my voice low. "What announcement?"

She pressed her lips together, then blew out a long breath. "There were no t
races of peanuts in any of the brownies or other food we tested."

I furrowed my brow.

"We also tested bottles and cups of water, coffee, juice, and soda. Nothing." The detective ran a hand across her hair and straightened her jacket. "We knew early on that the food tested negative for peanuts. But I wanted the lab to double-check, triple-check. In the meantime, when I learned that Sinder had peanut oil on that altar..." She trailed off.

"She said she was set up."

"She told me the same," the detective said. "That's expected, though."

I sat back and
processed what I'd heard. No peanuts in the food, but there was peanut oil in the canola bottle and on Sinder's altar. "I don't see how...then why did you arrest her for involuntary manslaughter?"

Detective Czarnecki's expression was dour. "Because she still could have given it to him. Listen, I already determined that she'd slipped him a so-called love potion before. She could have done the same this time, but with fatal consequences. In fact, she could have tainted the canola oil as well."

I shook my head. "She wouldn't do that."

"Miss Jones, how do you know what Sinder would or wouldn't do? You just arrived at that school. You don't know those kids."

I didn't want to get sidetracked. "Okay, so Sinder was charged with manslaughter because you thought she
could
have done. Yet, you knew the food wasn't poisoned."

The detective se
t her jaw and frowned. "She was my strongest suspect."

I
leaned forward and rubbed my face.

"I have dug into backgrounds and previous incidents,
" the detective said, "including the shooting incident involving Desmond and Embry Sullivan. I've mentioned 'poisoned brownies' to the five of you as well as several other students I questioned. I didn't expect anyone to blurt out that the brownies weren't poisoned, but I'd hoped for a slip-up."

How did the peanuts get inside Desmond?
I told her about the Agatha Christie-novel theory of the bee sting that was actually a syringe of death.

"I doubt it," she said. "The autopsy report didn't mention any needle marks."

I slid to the edge of the chair. The air seemed to crackle with electricity. "If they weren't looking for needle marks—"

"
Our pathologists look for that sort of thing in cases of suspicious deaths," she said. "If there'd been evidence of an injection, they would have found it."

Almost a minute passed before either of us spoke.

The detective brushed her hair behind her ears. "The thing he was allergic to got inside him somehow. At any rate, the DA is dropping charges against Sinder."

I think I pulled a Tamzen Parker and squealed. I
definitely clapped.

"I thought you'd appreciate that."

I looked at the detective. She didn't share my relief. She still had to find a killer. "About those bottles of water you tested," I said.

"
As I said before, none of them—"

"
Were there protein water bottles among them? That's the kind Desmond was drinking. Luke had some, too."

Detective Czarnecki let out a long breath.
"Not that I recall. But I'll get back to you." She got to her feet.

"Can't you find out now?" I said.

She gaped at me. "I thought you'd be relieved that Sinder Gillespie's cleared."

"I am, but it's not over."

"Miss Jones," the detective said, peering down at me, "As far as you're concerned, it's over." She started to walk away.

I jumped up.
"Then why did you call me down here?"

The officer manning the front desk looked up. Detective Czarnecki tu
rned to me, her face wooden. She cracked a phony smile. "I'm beginning to wonder. The truth is, I asked for your help, and I knew you were worried about Sinder. I wanted you to know the charges were being dropped before the news went public."

I shuffled my feet, feeling childish and ungrateful. "It's not over.
My dream. Someone is going to be killed."

Her
expression was unreadable, but she maintained eye contact. She seemed to be trying to communicate something to me. Why not just say it? Because it would be unprofessional. Something...psychic. I sensed embarrassment, anxiety, and curiosity.

Without another word, she disappeared down the hall. Though Sinder was no longer a suspect, she was still a potential vi
ctim of someone's rage—a predator angry enough to squeeze the life out of its prey.

***

I ignored Luke's text messages.

"It's
not against the law to adopt your own grandchild," Granddad said, "or call your son your brother."

"Maybe Ione would do anything
to keep people from learning the truth?"

"Th
at's a big leap," he said.

I
leaned against the kitchen counter and watched Granddad eat the last slice of pumpkin pie.

"What about this boy you like," Granddad said, pointing at me with the fork. "What's his story?"

My stomach clenched. I glanced at my phone again. Luke had texted three times.

"Have you even considered he might have done it?" Granddad said.

"I've considered it. But I can't think of a reason why. Besides, I'm sure the police scoured Luke's background for motive."

My grandfather
looked at my phone. "Answer him and find out what's so important."

My cell alerted again.
I read the message:
Haven't been honest w/ u. Must talk.

I looked at Granddad as if he were the psychic.
I responded, and less than a minute later, Luke was on his way to my house. When the bell rang, I headed for the door. My father beat me to it. I stood a few feet behind him, expecting the usual arrogant boy I had to deal with in school.

"
Good evening. I'm Luke Chapman, a friend of Guinan's. May I speak with her briefly?"

My father looked
back at me, his eyebrows raised. I nodded.

"Please, come in," he said, stepping aside.

Luke gave a quick smile. "You have a lovely home."

"Thanks in no small part to my
wife."

I watched Luke's deferential performance
and waited while they exchanged small talk. After my father left us alone, I showed Luke to the living room. He brushed his hands against his jeans and sat on one end of the couch.

"Thanks for seeing me, considering what I said to you earlier."

I sat at the other end. "I figured it must be important, since you texted multiple times."

He c
leared his throat. "I was angry when I said that whatever happens is your fault. I didn't mean it."

Despite my effort to remain cool toward him, some of the frost melted.

"I really wanted to work with you on this thing," he said. "What you can do...I'm in awe."

I couldn't tell if he was being truthful. He was looking at this hands, not my eyes.

"What haven't you been completely honest about?"

"Two things, actually." Luke rubbed his hands together
and looked me in the face. "My source for the cheaters is Claire. She ratted them out."

I raised my eyebrows but didn't respond.

"I convinced her, quite easily, to work with me. I told her I was the Malcontent. I'd name whoever she quoted anonymously, and that way, the truth would come out."

I asked the question I didn't want the answer to. "How did you convince her, Luke?"

He frowned. "I told her I'd ditch Gabby and go out with her."

Taking in his features, I couldn't tear my eyes away. Why did girls fall for it?
Ask yourself the same question.
"She stabbed her best friend in the back. For you."

A flash of the old arrogance
flitted across his face, and vanished just as quickly.

"What
's the other thing you haven't been truthful about?"

He laid his hands flat on his lap
and looked at me. "It's about Ione. Actually, me, Desmond, and Ione." In the few seconds before he spoke again, my mind spun with possibilities. "I'm not proud of it, and I don't think it's relevant. But I wanted you to know. In case it might..." He paused. "In case it might be important."

The seconds seem
ed to pass like minutes.

"I used to like Ione. A lot. We grew up going to the same church, and I used to joke
about us getting married."

I tried to picture him with Ione. I couldn't.

"That was a long time ago," he said quickly, shifting his weight. "Kid stuff, you know?"

I thought about Zeke. "Yeah, I kno
w. But what does this have to do—"

"When I realized she liked Embry, I was a little steamed. Embry acted like he wasn't interested in girls. That's partly why Drake made fun of him."

I'd seen pictures of a gawky-era Embry. "So Ione liked him before he got taller and better looking?"

He nodded.
"Desmond and I came up with this sick plan. Sick, as in bad." Luke kept glancing at my hands. Without realizing it, I was flexing them into fists. I folded them tightly in my lap.

"Her mother had recently lost another baby," he said, "and
Ione was pretty bummed about it, herself."

"
You and Desmond took advantage of her?" It was more of a statement.

He held eye contact
with me. "Her mother's had...some problems. She was seeing a shrink."

I thought about my meetings with Mr. Howard.

"Rumor was, she tried to kill herself," Luke said. "Now, here comes the sick part. Desmond and I made a bet to see which one of us could...you know."

I cocked an eyebrow.

Luke's face flushed. "Desmond won the bet. He and Ione started going out. I think she went out with him only because Embry acted like he wasn't interested."

"You're saying that Ione and Desmond had sex?"

He nodded.

I realized there was no way that Embry didn't know or at least suspect this. "Is
Asher Desmond's son?"

Luke scratched his cheek. "We suspected as much, but
Desmond wasn't ready to be father. To my knowledge, he never said anything to Ione about it."

"Embry told me she's a virgin." I expected Luke to scoff. He surprised me.

"I guess that's what he needs to believe."

"How do you think this might help the case?" I said.

He furrowed his brow. "The case? Oh, I don't think this...I came here to tell you what I'd done and to apologize."

I didn't know what to say to this.
"Did you or Desmond ever tell Ione about the bet?"

"I certainly didn't, and
I can't imagine he did, either."

Confused, I studied his face to find clarity in it. The red-brick
wall appeared unbidden inside my head. I made no effort to make it disappear. "What you did was disgusting."

"You don't have to tell me that, Jones
." Luke stood and began pacing. A lock of hair flopped lazily over his forehead. "It's just one of those things some guys do. I didn't think Desmond would actually get her into bed." He glanced at me. "I guess this means you're never going out with me now."

I lowered my gaze. "I might leave Thomas Grier.
Maybe go back to Ridge Grove."

He stopped pacing and faced me.
"I see. Back to Zeke Hicks?"

I rose from the couch.
"He has nothing to do with it."

"
Nothing?" he said, approaching me. "You're hung up on him. You miss him. That's not a bad thing."

It was my turn to smirk.
I folded my arms across my chest. "Luke Chapman, jealous. Nobody would believe it."

He
was close enough now that I could see green flecks in his eyes. "That's me. A jealous jackass."

"
On second thought, I don't think it's jealousy. I'm just a challenge. Like the bet you made with Desmond."

He
flinched. "I see. So, that's your logical assessment?"