Page 90 of Evidence of a Folktale

“You’re right. It doesn’t feel like it.” Chloe finally focused on Bel’s face.

“I’m sorry. Is there someone we can call for you?”

“No. My sister lives a couple of neighborhoods over. I’ll go stay with her.”

“We’ll have a deputy escort you, but if you’re up to it, I need to ask you some questions.”

“All right.” Chloe sighed, resigned to her fate.

“Thank you.” Bel shifted sideways to block Miss Rider from the news crews hoping to capture the winning shot, and catching her meaning, Eamon blocked both women with his size. “The Bajka Police Department advised the cast and crew of Aesop’s Files to stay at the bed-and-breakfast when they weren’t shooting. How did Warren Rouge end up here?”

“Most find Beau Draven sexy, but he’s too pretty for me.” Chloe shrugged. “I prefer men in their forties.” She tossed her eyes up at Eamon to illustrate her point. “Warren was hot, and we’re consenting adults. It’s not a crime.”

“Your date is not my concern,” Bel assured her. “I’m worried about how he slipped past our deputies at the inn.”

“I might have helped him with that,” Chloe said.

“I see… What happened last night? If you remember, can you recount your movements from the time you met him until you woke this morning?”

“I was at the signing with the bomb threat,” Chloe said. “Warren and I had instant chemistry when I got his autograph. I wanted to give him my number, but people were staring, so I left. Later on, I got a little tipsy at the bar and started talking about my regrets. Another fan overheard and told me I was Warren’s type. He said the bed-and-breakfast had a wine-tasting menu, and he thought I should go and shoot my shot with Warren.”

“This fan?” Bel asked. “What did he look like?”

“Couldn’t tell you, other than he was a man wearing wolf makeup. It was after the signing, so everyone was still in costume.”

Bel met Eamon’s gaze, a wordless understanding passing between the couple. Had the killer dressed as a wolf to encourage Miss Rider to lure Rouge away from their protection, or was this simply star-struck fans excited about the idea of a famous one-night stand?

“Did you go to the inn?” she asked.

“No, I chickened out,” Chloe said. “But I ran into him at The Espresso Shot the other day. We had the same chemistry, and I was brave enough to write my number on his cup. He called last night and invited me over. The bed-and-breakfast upped their bar service to accommodate the cast and crew’s curfews. He told me everyone was tipsy, so no one would notice if I showed up. I was thrilled he called, so we met up. We hit it off and drank a lot… probably too much.” She fell silent as the gravity of her overconsumption struck her. “Then he asked if I wanted to get out of there. He didn’t want to go to his room since the inn was packed. He wanted privacy. So I helped him sneak out, and we caught a cab here. He was hot, and it was fun until…” she trailed off.

“Did you notice anyone following you last night?” Bel asked. “Did anything unusual happen when you got home?”

“I was with Warren Rouge,” Chloe emphasized. “I wasn’t thinking about anything else.”

“Right.” Bel nodded, trying to keep the disappointment from reaching her face. Chloe Rider was the first witness their killer had left alive, but a drunk, star-struck woman was little help. “Do you remember what time you arrived home last night?”

“I don’t know. Late?”

“Late as in after midnight or almost dawn?”

“Um…” Chloe kicked at the dirty snow with her toes. “Somewhere in between? Maybe two-ish? It was still dark.”

“Do you have a security system?” Bel asked.

“No. But after this, I plan to get one… not for this cabin, though. I can’t live here after this.”

“I don’t blame you. It took me days to face my house after Alistair Rot died in my backyard.”

“I wish Warren died in my yard and not next to me.” Chloe started sobbing, and Bel placed a comforting hand on her arm. “I liked him. How could anyone do this? How come you haven’t arrested the murderer yet?”

Bel opened her mouth to answer, but what could she say? That she was failing at her job? That the killer might be a deal that wouldn’t stop until the debt was paid? That every time she stood in the snow, she was transported back to that mountain with Charles Blaubart hunting her just like this killer hunted its hooded victims?

“We’re doing everything we can,” Bel settled on her standard answer despite its hollowness. “If you think of anything else, call me at the station, but you’re free to go. I’ll have a deputy escort you to your sister’s.” She waved an officer down and asked him to deliver Miss Rider to her family.

“Don’t let what she said bother you.” Eamon massaged her shoulders as Chloe ducked into the squad car. “This production has been uncooperative, and our town might be playing host to black magic. Neither of those bode well for justice.”

“I know.” Bel sagged against him, shutting her eyes as his thumbs worked out her knots. “But he killed Rouge next to her, and she woke up covered in his blood. He forced her to sleep beside a dead man. I can’t even imagine that.”

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