“So what?”

  “So this is your last warning.”

  It took only seconds for his entire face to completely redden with anger. “I’ve heard enough,” he muttered as he turned and yanked open the door, storming out. The staff all looked nervously at him as he passed by, but no one said anything. He bolted out the front door and disappeared down the street.

  ***

  “I want to go with you,” Bea said as she entered my office and noticed the sheet of paper in my hand—it was a list of doctors outside Haven Hollow I’d printed from my mother’s email.

  “I think it’s best if you stay clear of this, Bea.”

  She crossed her arms against her chest and gave me that look of attitude only a faerie can. “I know you want to take all of this on your own back, but I’m not going to let you do that.”

  “Bea…”

  “I want to help you, Fifi.”

  I frowned at her. “Helping me could mean putting yourself in danger.”

  “Since when have you known me to shy away from danger? Besides, I’m already involved.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “What do you mean, you’re already involved?”

  Her eyebrows reached for the ceiling as she inspected her fingernails, playing nonchalant. “I was just talking to Angelo and he told me the elf who was killed was a member of the Autumn Court.”

  Damn Angelo for running his mouth. Just then, a memory of Marty mentioning he thought Fox might be involved in the murders suddenly revisited me. Hmm, Fox Aspen was also the Prince of the Autumn Court. Coincidence?

  “I have many friends in the Autumn Court,” Bea continued.

  “Did you know Cranough?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then?”

  She plopped her hands on her hips and scowled at me. “I can’t just stand by and let whoever did this get away with murdering one of my own.” She took a deep breath. “I want to be involved.” Then she paused for a moment and smiled up at me. “Besides, you know I can hold my own in a fight—I’m a good person to have at your back.”

  That part was true enough, although I didn’t imagine I was going to be in any fights anytime soon. “They don’t call you ‘Kamikaze Bea’ for nothing.”

  “That’s right. I can dive bomb with the best of them.”

  “While that might be true, I really don’t want to get you involved,” I said, shaking my head. “If something happened to you...” Not to mention the fact that Taliyah would be pissed to know I’d brought Bea in. She was already upset when I’d showed up at her office with Poppy, Marty, and Roy in tow.

  “I might be able to call in one of my unused tithes,” Bea nearly interrupted. “This is the exact type of situation that would benefit from a favor.”

  “Who owes you a favor that could help me with this case?”

  “Oh, just a coroner in Cherry Woods named Dr. Hedgewick.”

  Cherry Woods wasn’t that far from Haven Hollow. I swallowed hard and Bea smiled broadly, realizing she’d just won because a coroner was just what the doctor ordered, no pun intended.

  “I can give him a call right now,” Bea continued. “And we could be at his doorstep in what? An hour?”

  “Fine,” I said as I picked up my list of doctor names and folding it, placed it in my purse even as I hoped I wouldn’t need it.

  “You’ll be glad you let me help, Fifi, I swear.”

  I looked at her and couldn’t help but smile. “I guess another set of eyes can’t hurt.”

  She nodded. “So what’s our first order of business?”

  “Are you finished with your appointments for the day?”

  “Yes,” she nodded as I breathed out a long sigh.

  “Road trip!” she said gleefully. “I’ll grab some snacks.”

  “No time.”

  “Okay,” she nodded with one clipped motion. “Let’s ride.”

  I left Ramona in charge of the office and Glenn with the responsibility of closing it. Then, Bea and I hurried out, on our way to the parking lot.

  “Today is a great day to catch a killer,” Bea said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The good news was that I’d decided to bring the list of doctors with me because Bea had tried to call Dr. Hedgewick, the coroner, at least four times and hadn’t been able to reach him. So we’d abandoned our plan of Cherry Woods and had headed into Portland instead.

  The bad news was that each doctor we’d visited thus far were either gynecologists, obstetricians, and a few of them were even pediatricians—all basically useless for our needs. But, two of them had been helpful in referring us to other practitioners. Still, no one was able to help us with the type of forensic autopsy we needed.

  “It’s okay. Dr. Hedgewick will be able to help us, I’m sure,” Bea chirped from beside me, ever the optimist.

  “Um, the only problem is that you’ve called Hedgewick five times now and you still haven’t been able to reach him.”

  “Maybe he changed his number. I say we just drive to his office and find out for ourselves,” she answered and handed me a folded sheet of paper with an address scribbled across it. I looked at the address and realized Dr. Hedgewick’s office was fairly close—it was actually on our way back to Haven Hollow.

  “Cherry Woods, here we come,” I answered and starting the 4Runner, headed for the freeway.

  It took maybe ten minutes before Bea told me to exit the freeway. Following her directions, we found ourselves on a long and twisting road that wound through nothing but miles and miles of cherry trees, no doubt the reason why the town had been named Cherry Woods.

  “I think we take a right here,” Bea said as she peered through the window and then nodded to me. I took the only turn I could—a right onto a single-lane road with nothing but cherry trees on either side, stretching for as far as the eye could see.

  After a few miles, the trees gave way to open grassland, dotted here and there with a few cows.

  “Are you sure this is right?” I asked. It just—didn’t look like the type of place a coroner would set his business because it was in the middle of nowhere.

  Bea nodded. “I mean… I’m pretty sure it’s right. It’s actually been a long time since I worked for Dr. Hedgewick.”

  “So… you basically have no idea where we’re going, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t say it like that, exactly,” she started, frowning as her lips broke into a big smile and she pointed straight ahead. “What’s that?” she asked, sounding momentarily hopeful again as she motioned to the building ahead of us that appeared almost out of nowhere.

  I looked at the small brick building that was one story tall and in the shape of a rectangle and pretty much nondescript, except for the fact that it was derelict and no longer inhabited, exemplified by the wooden boards that covered each window. It sat alone on the side of the road, nothing but open grassland on either side. As we approached, I slowed down until I could make out the large metal sign that stood beside the main entrance: “Eternal Bliss Charnel House.”

  I pulled to the side of the building and parked the SUV, turning off the engine as Bea looked at me and nodded.

  “Yep, this is the place,” she said, looking at the building through her window with a self-impressed smile. “Looks like my directions weren’t wrong after all.”

  “Not that your directions really matter considering the place looks like it’s been out of business for a long time. No wonder Dr. Hedgewick wasn’t returning your calls.”

  “Hmm,” Bea answered while she chewed on her lip and I sighed out my frustration as I continued to inspect the old building. Bea, meanwhile, opened her door and jumped down to the concrete sidewalk that appeared just in front of the building.

  I followed suit, even though I wasn’t sure why we were even getting out—Hedgewick clearly wasn’t here any longer and probably hadn’t been for some time.

  “When did you work for Hedgewick? How long ago?”

  She shrugged. “At least ten years.”

  I nodded, because the shape of the building made it seem like it had sat empty for at least ten years, easy. “Looks like Hedgewick ran out on the tithe he owed you.”

  “I just… hmm… I wouldn’t have thought he was the type,” Bea answered, shaking her head.

  “What was this place doing out in the middle of nowhere in the first place?”

  She shrugged. “Hedgewick is a weremole and only worked on paranormals… so I guess it makes sense that he’d want to keep his business out of the reach of mundanes.”

  “A weremole?” I repeated, frowning. “I didn’t know there even were such things.”

  “Yep, there are.”

  Bea started forward, while I continued to inspect the boards on the windows, trying not to get disappointed by the way this day had gone.

  “Did you see that?” she asked, pulling my attention to her wide eyes.

  “See what?”

  There was the definite expression of shock on her face. “I’m pretty sure I just saw a brownie trying to break into the back door, over there.” Then she pointed to the back door in question, which was on the side of the building. From this vantage point, I couldn’t see much.

  Brownies were another sect of the fae and were typically of or related to the home. They were pint-sized creatures that were generally fair-tempered, though they could be provoked to anger and then they were a nasty little bunch.

  “A brownie?” I asked her, frowning. It was highly unlikely to randomly spot a brownie in the daytime, away from its home—especially out here, in the middle of nowhere. They were notoriously private creatures who lived isolated lives. “Why would a brownie break into this place? Aren’t they supposed to protect houses?”

  Bea nodded. “I don’t know why, but I’m sure that’s what I just saw.”

  Hmm, maybe the little creature was in trouble and needed help. As we approached the end of the wall of the building, I peered around the corner and watched as the brownie climbed up a pile of refuse and removed a few loose boards from one of the windows.

  Owing to his earth toned and ratty clothing, he appeared to be what was known as a Domovoi from the Autumn Court, and he was definitely a brownie—as decided by his diminutive stature (he was maybe two feet tall on a good day). He had long and skinny arms and legs and a round, pudgy middle. His reddish hair was scraggly, sticking out underneath his knitted green cap, which did little to disguise his massive nose and round, orb-like eyes.

  The brownie gripped the sides of the remaining boards, slipped through the opening and disappeared, having never spotted us.

  I hurried up to the door, but when I tried to pull on the handle, it was apparent it was locked from the inside. That left only the window, one of the boards of which was already missing, owing to the brownie removing it.

  “I can see him through the window,” Bea said as she stood on her tiptoes and looked up at the window, then pulled back to take stock of the boards that still remained. “I’m pretty sure I can fit through.”

  “Go!” I encouraged her as her wings suddenly unfolded from her back, poking out from underneath her velvet cape, and she floated up to the window. Once she reached it, she grasped each side of the wooden boards that covered the window and then squeezed through the narrow opening.

  “Be careful,” I whispered.

  Once on the other side, I watched her float down to the concrete floor below as she hurried to unlock the door and I met her on the other side.

  When I stepped foot inside the building, I shivered with the dank cold and my eyes fought to accustom themselves to the dark. The large windows that sat to one side of the door were all painted black on the inside and boarded up on the outside. Other than the broken one Bea had just climbed through, we were left with little light filtering in from outside, and with dusk approaching, that wasn’t much light to begin with.

  I looked around as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, but saw nothing. No doubt the brownie had definitely seen us coming, and he’d taken refuge somewhere. Not that that was very surprising. As I’d mentioned, brownies were solitary creatures and even if one were in trouble, he wouldn’t just welcome the interference of others. I scanned the room again and leaned in toward Bea.

  “Can you see anything?”

  “No. He’s hiding,” she whispered.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned on the flashlight app. The room around us began to glow and revealed itself to be in pristine condition—and it was definitely a mortician’s office, with polished tables and instruments laid out on a side table, waiting for sterilization and use. Strangely enough, the room looked like it was in use—the instruments were shiny, there was no dust or cobwebs anywhere. Hmm…

  There was a side alcove hidden behind the wall’s shadow. Had the brownie hidden in there? I walked slowly toward the alcove, panning my phone this way and that, looking for signs of the little creature, but there was nothing aside from a row of cabinets.

  It was possible the brownie had gone through the nearby double doors—which, based on their proximity to the exam area, I assumed was a cold storage for bodies. A shudder ran through me as I contemplated having to enter the room to look for him. I just… didn’t like the subject of death in general—it gave me the heebie jeebies.

  “I think he went in there,” I said and pointed to the double doors.

  “Lock and load, baby,” she quipped, heading toward the doors.

  Inside, the room was empty other than a row of three metal preparation tables and the instruments required for embalming and funeral presentation. Unlike the orderly and tidy room outside, this room was dusty and appeared to be as derelict as the building that housed it. It was also far too warm to be a cold room.

  “What’s a brownie doing here?” I whispered, as I turned to face her.

  “I don’t know.”

  It was a perplexing mystery and one that was starting to appear unsolvable. Not yet wanting to give up, I walked toward a wall of small, metal doors where bodies would once have been stored. Figuring our brownie could be hiding within one of them, I started pulling them open, one by one. As I approached the middle section, I noted that one of the doors was ever so slightly ajar. I motioned to Bea, and she walked up to it, slowly reaching for the handle as she yanked it open in one fluid motion while I shined the light inside.

  The brownie stared back at us, wide-eyed, as he cowered in the center of the body tray within. I prepared for him to shift into any type of animal form, or go completely invisible, but instead he screamed.

  “It’s okay,” Bea crooned as I pulled back, allowing her to take the lead. He’d be less afraid coming face to face with one of his own kind than he would facing a demoness.

  “We aren’t going to hurt you,” Bea said. “My name is Bumble Bee and I’m a faerie from the Spring Court.”

  “I know what you are,” the creature said in a tinny, high-pitched voice, I imagined an alien might sound like.

  “What’s your name?” Bea continued.

  “Me name is Burian.”

  “Nice to meet you, Burian,” she said with a big smile. Burian didn’t return it.

  “What you want?”

  “We just want to ask for your help,” she responded.

  “I can’t help you.”

  Bea frowned but kept her Glinda, the Good Witch impersonation going. “How do you know? We haven’t even told you what we need help with yet.”

  “I don’t know you. Go away.”

  “Not until you talk to us, just for a bit and then we’ll let you get on with whatever it is you’re doing here.”

  It seemed like an eternity as we sat there looking at him, waiting for a response. Finally, he climbed out of the metal drawer and hopped onto a nearby exam table to face us, looking resigned.

  I couldn’t help but note how he continued to shiver, even after climbing out of the drawer where he’d been cowering in the corner, trying to hide from us by slipping into the shadows. “I’m not doing nothing wrong. I’m just watching the building I was assigned.”

  Hmm, brownies weren’t usually assigned to buildings.

  “Then why were you trying to break in?” I demanded, getting closer so I was right in his face.

  “I didn’t break in!” he insisted, shaking his head in quick succession. “I just forgot me key!”

  I figured his story could be the truth, because there really was no reason for him to want to break into this place—not unless he belonged here. “You said you were assigned to this building. Assigned by whom? Who gave you the keys?”

  “The prince himself, Reynard.”

  “The heir of the Autumn Court?” Bea asked, surprised.

  “Aye,” Burian said with a clipped nod. “This location been me assignment for the last four years.”

  Hmm, Prince Reynard… AKA Fox Aspen—the detective Poppy had mentioned earlier—the one who owed her a favor.

  “Why were you sent here?” Bea asked.

  “To watch the mortician to learn his trade.”

  “Dr. Hedgewick?” Bea asked.

  If Burian was surprised Bea knew the doctor, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just nodded.

  “Is Dr. Hedgewick still here?” Bea asked.

  Burian shook his head. “He left long ago.” He took a breath. “There, I’ve told you what you asked. Now tell me what you want.”

  I stepped forward because Burian had been looking at me—probably because I hadn’t yet introduced myself. “I’m Seraphina Stenham and this is my employee, Bea. We’re from Hallowed Homes. We were looking for Dr. Hedgewick because he owes Bea a tithe.”

  “Well, he ain’t here no longer,” Burian answered.

  “Where did he go?” Bea asked.

  “I ain’t know for sure.”

  “Why does Prince Reynard need a brownie mortician?” I asked, finding the whole situation completely bizarre. Clearly, whatever was going on here was on the down low—why else would Reynard have kept Burian secreted away in this derelict building in the middle of nowhere? The answer was obvious: because Reynard didn’t want anyone to find out what he was up to.

  Burian turned his gaze to me. “All’s I know is the prince hired me for the job.”