Rose Petal Graves (The Lost Clan #1) (8 page)

“Henry Mason was the medical examiner who was supposed to come prepare your mother,” Blake explained.

His voice sounded like it was coming from very far away.

“This guy…he’s some sick impersonator. To think you were in a car with him. Shit, Cat, I thought—I thought I’d never get you back.”

Cruz faced me from the other side of the car. His eyes burned an electric shade of green.

“You killed—” My voice dried up in my throat. I swallowed and shivered. “You killed someone?”

He didn’t say no. He didn’t say anything. He just kept his eyes locked on mine. He’d said faeries only tricked people, but he’d lied. Faeries killed too.

CHAPTER 10 – THE WOODS

Cruz had been taken into custody and locked in a cell in Rowan’s tiny jail. Sheriff Jones was ecstatic because this was one of the first times his jail was being used, and because arresting Cruz had turned him into an instant, local celebrity.

“Why do you think he impersonated a medical examiner?” Cass asked, as she set a cheeseburger in front of me. It glistened with oil.

“I didn’t order this,” I told her, pushing the plate away.

She thrust it back toward me. “Just pretend to eat it.” She moved her eyeballs toward the kitchen. “Blake’s been on my case about making sure you didn’t leave here on an empty stomach.”

The sheriff and Mr. Hamilton, who sat a few tables behind me, were discussing the body that was uncovered in the middle of the woods. “There were burn marks all over it, but the snow kept it in pretty good shape considering.”

I pressed my burger away. Definitely not hungry anymore.

“That’s sick,” Mr. Hamilton said, readjusting his tweed newsboy cap. Apparently, he’d gotten it in Scotland, on the set of one of his movies, but Blake had seen the label inside, and it read
made in Michigan
. “I still don’t get what the kid’s endgame was. Do you think he was planning on killing more of us?”

“Who knows? I tried interrogating him after I booked him, but he didn’t say anything. He just asked for his phone call.”

“Who did he call?” Mr. Hamilton asked.

“What can I get you, Sheriff?” Cass asked, wiping down their table. “Another coffee?”

“Nah, I’m good, Cass. I need to get back to the jailhouse.”

“I’ll take a BLT,” Hamilton said. “With extra mayo.”

“But you just had a steak,” Cass said.

Mr. Hamilton placed his elbows on the table. “Did I ask you for dietary advice, Cassidy, or did I ask for a BLT?”

“Coming right up.” As she walked past my table, she whispered, “Sheesh,” and blew her bangs out of her eyes.

“So who’d he call?” Hamilton asked, lacing his fingers together.

“He spoke some weird language, so I didn’t get a name.”

“Probably a lawyer.”

“Probably. He said that person would be able to explain. Not sure how anyone can give a good reason for homicidal identity theft.” He got up, zipped his jacket over his paunch, and tapped Hamilton’s skinny shoulder. “Catch you later, old sport.”

As the door of Bee’s Place jingled, I shot up and dashed out after the sheriff. “Sheriff Jones,” I called out.

“Yes?” He stopped walking.

“Can I talk to him?”

“To the prisoner?”

I nodded.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’re not sure yet what sort of person we’re dealing with.”

“Please. I just need to ask him something about my mother.”

His small eyes ran over my face. “Heard your dad’s thinking of pulling her out of the ground. You know…to check that he didn’t, um…molest her.”

“Cruz wouldn’t—”

“You’re defending him?”

“He’s not a necrophiliac,” I said.

“How would you know that?”

“I just know. Please, can I just have a minute with him?”

He tilted his face to the side. “Fine. One minute. Supervised by me. Wouldn’t want Derek telling me how irresponsible I was to let you within ten feet of him.”

One supervised minute wasn’t ideal, but it was better than none. We walked side by side down the dusk-covered main street toward the county jail. When we stepped into the brick building, the cop at the entrance shot out of his seat. It took me a second to realize it was Cass’s older brother, Jimmy. He’d changed his hair, or grown, or something.

“Has the prisoner been cooperating?”

“Nothing to report, sir,” Jimmy said.

“Buzz us through,” Sheriff Jones told him.

The metal door behind the desk unlocked. The sheriff pushed through and I trailed him in. The jail smelled like Lysol and was lit by several strips of neon lights. The cells weren’t cozy, but they weren’t dank like I’d pictured them.

“He’s in the last one,” the sheriff told me.

I was nearly surprised to see Cruz. Part of me had imagined he would have broken out already. His thick black lashes swept up over his bright eyes when he spotted me. He couldn’t have murdered a man, could he? 

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” he said. Cruz was sitting on a cot with a mattress that looked no thicker than a shoe sole. With a sigh, he combed his hand through his wavy black hair, mussing it up. “What are you doing here, Catori?”

I approached the bars, but the sheriff cleared his throat, so I stopped. “Dad wants to exhume Mom’s body. He’s suffered enough. I don’t want him to be shocked by anything. She’ll be…visible, right?”

His lips set in a grim twist. “No.”

A voice erupted over a speaker above the secure doorway. “Sheriff, the prisoner’s visitor is here.”

Cruz rose.

The sheriff pointed his finger at him. “Don’t you move. Cat, you got your minute. I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”

I wasn’t ready to go. “You could’ve just taken his place without killing him,” I whispered.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“Really? Then who did?” I hissed.

He hesitated. “I don’t know.” The hesitation was a dead giveaway that he
did
know.

“Cat, now!” the sheriff said, holding the door open for me.

“What do I do if she comes back?” I asked in a hushed voice.

“Just act normal.”

I tugged on the hem of my black scarf. “She’ll see right through me.”

He stepped up to the bars. “No, she won’t. She can’t.”

“I told you not to move, Vega,” the sheriff barked. “Step back before I Taser you. And, Cat, don’t make me regret allowing you inside. Out!”

Biting my lip, I turned away from Cruz and treaded back down the corridor. Just this morning, we were burying Mom, and now I was visiting him in jail. When I emerged from the short corridor, I looked up and stumbled, catching myself on the edge of the front desk. Standing right there was America’s elusive heartthrob. The sheriff didn’t make a fool of himself like I had just done, but he did freeze at the sight of Cruz’s visitor.

“M-Mr. Wood?” he stammered. “You’re”—he turned toward Cruz’s cell—“You’re here for the suspect?”

“Yes,” Ace said, eyes on me. He tilted his head to the side.

He was more handsome than in the
Vanity Fair
article. Too handsome with his dark blond hair which he wore cropped on the sides and longer on the top, and his afternoon shadow that made his pretty boy face look rugged.

“I flew over as quickly as I could. Pleasure to meet you, officer,” he said with a smile.

It took me a second to realize he meant me. “Oh, I’m not a cop.”

“Then who are you?” he asked.

“I-I’m Catori Price.”

“Ah.”

“What,
ah
?” I asked.

“You’re prettier than on the pictures,” he said, extending his hand.

I fed my fingers through his, expecting his skin to be hot like Cruz’s, and it was. “What pictures?”

His smile faltered. “The ones on your Facebook wall,” he said.

“My Facebook profile is set on private,” I said, yanking my hand back and stuffing it inside my coat pocket.

Ace wasn’t smiling anymore. “Interesting.”

Had he felt I was a faehunter’s descendant? Is that what he meant by interesting?

“I’m sorry about the misunderstanding, Catori,” Ace said. “After I’m done here, would you allow me to stop by your house to apologize to your father?”

“Um. Sure,” I said.

“Great. Sheriff, where are you keeping the big bad prisoner?” Ace asked.

Sheriff Jones’s round cheeks reddened and sweat beaded on his upper lip. “I-In here,” he said. “After you.” The door buzzed again.

As soon as both disappeared behind it, Jimmy took out his cell phone. “I can’t believe Ace Wood is here. I need to call Cass. She’s going to flip. She’s had a crush on him since junior high.”

“When did you become a cop?”

“I completed my training during the fall. Cass didn’t tell you? I suppose with everything that’s happened, she didn’t think to mention it. I’m really sorry about your mom, Cat. I was at the wake and the funeral, but there were so many people that I don’t think you saw me.”

I strained to hear voices beyond the door. “Is Sheriff Jones treating you well?”

“He’s cool. But I’m still on desk duty. I was hoping for some field jobs.”

“This is Rowan, Jimmy. You should move to Detroit for some field jobs.”

“Maybe. You know, when I saw Cruz at Bee’s Place the night he got into town, I told Blake and Cass something was off.”

I nearly laughed and told him,
No shit, he’s a faerie
, but obviously I kept that to myself.

“Why do you think Ace Wood is here?” Jimmy asked.

“Cruz grew up with his family,” I said.

“That is dope. Apparently their island is like the most insane place to live. You know, that’s on my bucket list of places to visit before I croak.”

“I didn’t know.” Metal clanked beyond the door. Had the sheriff set Cruz free? “I don’t think they allow visitors.”

“Still, how cool would it be to go?” he asked, just as the door buzzed behind him. He jumped to his feet to hold it open.

As Ace and Cruz walked out, Jimmy blinked. Then his gaze, like mine, darted to Cruz’s unshackled wrists, and an eyebrow lifted on his large forehead.

“All good, sheriff?” he asked.

“You wanted field work, Jimmy? I got something for you,” Jones said, cheeks even brighter than before. He slapped a piece of paper into Jimmy’s hands. “Mr. Wood was kind enough to hire a private detective to find out who Mr. Mason’s true killer was. Mr. Vega, I am deeply sorry for my rash conviction. I hadn’t realized Mr. Mason had called on you to replace him.”

I shot Cruz an incredulous glance.

He smiled at the sheriff, but I suspected it was intended for me. “Don’t mention it, Sheriff. You couldn’t have known.” He turned to go. “Catori, I owe your father an apology. Would you mind terribly if we came home with you?”

“We?”

“Ace would like to meet him.”

“I could drive you over, if you need an extra vehicle?” Jimmy said.

“Jimmy,” the sheriff snapped. “I just handed you an assignment. Shoo.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” he said, quickly shrugging into his khaki winter jacket. He scuttled past me, but then doubled back. “I forgot the car keys.” He grabbed them from his desk drawer and dashed out of the station.

“Sheriff, it was a pleasure doing business with you,” Ace said.

As they shook hands, Sheriff Jones’s beady eyes darted toward me. “I phoned Derek and briefly explained things. He’s expecting you.”

“You have yourself a good evening, Sheriff,” Ace said, and then he pulled the front door open. “Ladies first.”

I walked out into the cold evening and stuffed my hands inside my pockets. Cruz and Ace joined me seconds later. Even though I expected Ace to glow like Cruz, when I saw that he did, it was still odd to witness.

“Where’s your car, Cruz?” Ace asked.

“Blake parked it right behind the station,” I said, tipping my chin to the wide alley that led to the jail parking lot.

After the sheriff had cuffed Cruz and dragged him to the cruiser, Blake had driven the sports car back. During the entire ride, he told me how lucky I was that they’d found me in time. I’d been too dazed to feel lucky.

“It’s a two-seater,” Cruz said.

“Right. I can get a ride back with…” I couldn’t ask Blake, because he would hang around, and I didn’t want him to. And Cass had just started her shift. And Bee didn’t drive. Maybe Mr. Hamilton? “With someone.”

“Nonsense. You go with Cruz. It’s such a clear night. Perfect for a little…promenade.”

“It’s far,” I said. “You can’t walk—”

“Who said anything about walking?” Ace winked at me, checked the alley, then levitated and shot upward like a human rocket. I snapped my neck back to watch his ascent. In seconds, he was as high up as a fugitive helium balloon, and then he whizzed through the darkness like a shooting star.

“He’s going to get there before us, isn’t he?” I asked stupidly.

“Most probably. Let’s not subject your poor father to too much time alone in Ace’s company.”

I nodded, gaze still turned upwards. My hair blew around my face and I raked it back. Besides a few stars, the sky was pitch-black. “I wish I could do that,” I said. “I can drive your car back if you also want to, you know, fly.”

“I’d rather drive,” he said.

“Why would anyone rather drive?”

His green eyes looked dark against his shiny skin.

“You don’t trust me with your car, is that it?”

“I don’t care about the car,” he said, his voice low. “I just thought you’d still have questions for me.”

“A few.”

“You have the keys?” he asked.

I blanched. “No. Blake has them. Shoot. You want me to go—”

“Why don’t you try starting it with your mind?”

“Huh? What?”

He tapped his temple.

“Oh. Uh. How—Do I just focus on it?”

“I heard that’s how your ancestors did it back in the day. They concentrated on what they wanted to happen and it happened.”

I swallowed, then turned my gaze to the car, and thought about the ignition button. Nothing happened. I squinted. Still nothing. I focused harder. Suddenly the car beeped and flashed.

“I did it,” I whispered in disbelief. Then I flung my gaze onto Cruz. “I did—” My excitement dwindled when I spied a small keypad in his hand and a grin on his face. “I didn’t do it, did I?”