Page 9

Chapter Eight

T he victim was a man named Silas Lemons.

He was a witch who worked as a mechanic at the shop on Main Street.

Iven used to take his car there, but that was before Griffin had become a certified mechanic.

The house was a couple of blocks away from the last one that was broken into.

And as far as Iven knew, most of the people on the street were shifters, but there were a few witches thrown into the mix, like Silas.

It was a working-class neighborhood with several craftsmen style homes.

Silas stood in his driveway with his arms crossed over his chest. He was a tall man with broad shoulders.

Silas still wore coveralls. The mechanic shop patch was on one side of his chest and his name was embroidered on the other. The patches were barely visible past his thick arms.

“That guy looks pissed,” Cass said.

Indeed, he seemed upset. He was not somebody to mess with. Iven knew that much. He was a strong magic user and well respected within his coven. But other than that, Iven didn’t know much about him.

Iven pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine before getting out of the car.

Silas unfolded his arms and took Iven’s hand when he extended it. “Thanks for coming, Sheriff.”

“Is anything missing?”

To Iven surprise, Silas nodded. “A book.”

A book? What did somebody want with a book?

Iven nodded toward the house. “Show me.”

Cass went back to the car to grab the kit, just in case the perpetrator left evidence behind.

“What sort of book was it?”

“It was a spell book my grandmother gave me. It has sentimental value. I would like it back.” Silas’s expression hardened, as if to say he would get it by any means necessary, with or without Iven’s help.

Silas gestured toward a built-in bookshelf in his living room.

A space was empty where the book had been. He didn’t expect them to find fingerprints. It’s likely the perpetrator scanned the titles and pulled the book out with a single finger, not touching anything else.

“Why do you want a book of spells? Why would that be important?” Iven whispered. He wished the perpetrator was there to answer. But as of that moment, he was talking to himself.

“That’s what I’d like to know. Why is my grandmother’s spell book of interest to anyone? She was a healer. She had spells for illnesses only witches get.” Why would the perpetrator need a book like that?

Cass walked in and Iven let him dust the shelf for prints. They found nothing, which pissed Silas off even more than he already was. Iven had his doubts they’d ever find the book or the person who took it.

****

By the time they got back to the station, Iven was tired.

It had been a long day already, and it was only two o’clock in the afternoon.

Maybe Iven was getting old, but he could surely go for a nap.

Instead, he went to the break room and grabbed his favorite mug, setting it next to the coffeepot while he started the brewing process.

Cass walked in. “Please say you made enough for me.”

“I figured we needed caffeinated help.”.

Cass ran his hand down his face. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Silas, but I caught a scent this time.”

Iven’s gaze snapped to Cass. “Who? “

“It smelled like Ransome’s kid.”

“The one who told you to tell me hello?” Iven frowned. Why would Ransome’s kid need a book on healing spells?

Cass nodded. “His first name is Marric, I think.”

“Marric.” Iven wasn’t sure why he was stuck on the kid’s name. Or why he liked it so much.

Watching the coffee drip into the pot allowed Iven to contemplate why someone like Marric Ransome would break into people’s houses in Fortune Falls. “Can you call the Timeston sheriff’s office and find out if they have any break-ins there?”

Cass nodded and went into the main room to make the call, leaving Iven to his thoughts.

Cass had said that Kinnison Ransome was hiding something. What if Kinnison was protecting his son? What if it was related to the break-ins?

As soon as the coffee brewed, Iven filled two cups. He took one to Cass.

Cass was just finishing up his phone call. He hung up the phone and met Iven’s gaze. “Timeston hasn’t had any break-ins. But the sheriff is also a shady asshole, so he could be lying. Ransome’s kid must think that the thing he wants is in Fortune Falls.”

Did he find what he was looking for within the pages of a book filled with healing spells? Iven hoped so because he would hate to have to arrest him.