Page 28 of Forensics of a Fable

“I feel like I fit here more than I did in New York,” she agreed. “I just wish I had a bigger place so you could visit longer.”

“Good morning, Detective,” Abel interrupted, and Bel flinched slightly. She hadn’t noticed him walk in, yet there he stood with his customary plain coffee and oatmeal to go.

“Hi Abel,” Bel said kindly, glad her dad was there to give her an excuse to keep the conversation short.

“I heard about those girls.” Abel ignored her father. He always inquired about her cases, but no matter how many times she told him she couldn’t talk about them, he still asked. “How is the case going? Are you staying safe?”

“Yes, thank you. I hope you’re doing well?”

“I am.” He said nothing else as he stared down at them, and Reese cleared his throat, readying to intervene with an excuse.

“I have to get to an autopsy.” Bel stood up and shoved the rest of her bagel into her mouth. “Nice to see you.”

Her father took the hint and gathered his things, following her to the car. “He’s an odd one.”

“He is, but I’ve met weirder,” she said, fighting the urge to touch her scars.

The autopsy revealednothing they didn’t already know. Sedated by an injection in her arm, cleaned, dressed in a nightgown, transported to the cabin, then forced to eat her poison, Jane Doe had been killed the same way as Alana Drie. There were no defensive wounds on her body, no bruising, no evidence under her nails. There was no sign of sexual assault, and she had no underlying medical conditions. She seemed a healthy young woman, and Bel wondered if both victims knew their killer. How else could someone get close enough to sedate them without a struggle? Bel looked at Gold with curiosity. That or the killer was handsome enough to entice the women into his arms.

They ran Jane Doe’s prints, but no matches came back, leaving their second victim a mystery. Much to everyone's disappointment, the furniture was also void of any fingerprints or evidence. For scenes so messy, the victims were immaculate, and that reality caused Bel’s stomach to sink. Were they dealing with a killer like Alcina? Had another monster chosen Bajka as its hunting ground?

The detectives left the medical examiner’s office with a promise that Lina would rush the toxicology report, but they had a good idea what killed their Jane Doe.

“Detective Emerson.” A deputy strode for the women as they entered the station. “We got a hold of the land records.”

“Oh, great. What state park was Jane Doe found in?”

“That’s the thing,” the deputy said. “She wasn’t found in a state park.” Bel’s chest constricted at his words. “That property is part of the Reale Estate.”

“Did you say the Reale Estate?”Sheriff Griffin asked, striding over to the group, and Bel’s nerves flared to life.

“Yes, sir,” the deputy said. “Based on the records, the founding family had small sheds erected throughout the property to make hunting easier on their servants, since traveling at night would have been difficult in those days.”

“Alana Drie was also found on the Reale Estate, right?” Griffin asked.

“Yes, sir,” the deputy confirmed.

“Call Stone in. I want to talk to him.” The sheriff gave Bel a pointed look, and her fists involuntarily clenched. Most were wary of Eamon since she’d been so adamant about his guilt in Alcina’s case. Griffin was especially cautious because while hehad saved Bel’s life, some of the circumstances of the witch’s death didn’t add up. Bel couldn’t tell her boss the true nature of the attack and the curse, so she and Eamon lied as best they could. Griffin bought their explanation for the most part, believing the bite marks on Alcina’s body were from Cerberus defending his mother, and while some were, most weren’t. Bel wasn’t sure how many times she could lie for her monster before the people of Bajka caught on that he wasn’t entirely human.

Unsurprisingly, Eamon answered their summons immediately, his towering frame striding into the station like he owned the place. He was dressed in another black suit, but this time a tie strangled his throat, causing Bel to wish she could leave work. Seeing his incredible height and rippling muscles clad in an expensive expertly tailored suit felt like the equivalence of seeing him in lingerie.

“Good afternoon, Detective,” he greeted, shaking her hand with a smirk that said he’d noticed the effect his appearance had on her. “Gold. Sheriff.” He shook their hands, all charm and carelessness, but Bel noted the subtle change in his demeanor the second his eyes left hers, as if a mask had slipped into place.

“Mr. Stone, thank you for coming so quickly.” Griffin stepped aside and gestured to the interview room. “If you will.”

Eamon nodded, completely unbothered by his surroundings, and strode into the room. He sat in the chair provided, and Bel stifled a smirk at how massive he looked in it.

“Were you aware that the cabin where Alana Drie’s body was found is on the Reale Estate?” Griffin asked as he and Bel took the seats across the table.

“I was,” Eamon said coolly, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you know that a second victim was also found on your property?” the sheriff continued.

“Unfortunately, I heard,” Eamon answered, and Bel noticed Griffin bristle at his short answers. For once, she was glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of his infuriatingly cocky manner.

“Witnesses placed you at The Espresso Shot on the same night as Alana Drie,” the sheriff said. “You were one of the last people to see her alive.”

“A shame,” Eamon said, completely undisturbed. “But to answer your next question, I left before her. I left the fundraiser immediately after Detective Emerson. Isn’t that right, Isobel?” He pinned her with his intoxicating stare, and she glared at him.

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