Page 30 of Live To Tell

“Are you part of the Circle? What evidence is attached to the tiara that they're trying to hide?” demands Violet.

I join Mr. Woodside in the sighing and nudge her. “Subtlety?”

“Since when did that ever work? If you want the truth from people, directness often catches them out.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Well?”

“I agree with Rowan. Your investigative technique could use some work.” He places his hands on top of the bag. “I am not part of the Circle.”

“And the tiara? What do you know about that?”

I’m shocked—I warned Violet that Mr. Woodside would never talk to her and definitely not admit any connection to the tiara. Yet, straightaway he calls her bluff. The man could send us away claiming he’s no idea what we’re talking about, but instead Mr. Woodside stands and allows Violet’s volley of questions to hit him.

“Violet, sit down,” I say and pull a chair from beneath a desk. “Let me speak.”

Mr. Woodside looks between us, watching where I touch Violet on the arm to encourage her to sit. “You're bonded. That's crazy. She isn't—”

“Normal?” suggests Violet.

“Isn't a true witch. But yes, not normal either.” He slides onto the desk to sit too. “Now I'm intrigued.”

“How can you tell we’re bonded?” I ask. “Most people can't unless they know us well.”

“Your energy. My mind magic operates on a more transcendent level. That’s my expertise—no mysterious earthquakes at student memorials from my magic.” He raises a brow at me.

“Good grief! Who's Madison?” interrupts Violet.

Mr. Woodside smiles. “I thought Rowan was speaking.”

“I'm expecting you to disappear as soon as you get the chance. Rowan's too slow.”

He regards her. “I’m aware you heard my conversation in the library, but I’m unsure what you hope to gain from accosting me.”

She holds his gaze. “You want the tiara. I also want the tiara. If that desire is for the same reason, we should help each other.”

“And what’s your reason?”

“Because I think a crime was committed against a girl named Madison and would like to solve said crime.”

He laughs softly. “And you think I committed this crime?”

“No, but I believe you can help us solve what happened. I think you know something.”

Mr. Woodside falls silent again, looking between us. I exchange a glance with Violet. Maybe the man’s reason for wanting the tiara would persuade him to speak to us—if Violet treads carefully enough.

“What’s your connection to the tiara, Violet?” he asks.

“Perhaps we could exchange information?” she suggests.

Again silence. Mr. Woodside takes his bag and stands. My hope the teacher had information he’d share drains away as he glances to the classroom door.

“Don’t leave,” I say. “Please talk to us.”

He pauses and sets his bag back on the desk. “I might consider an exchange of information, but I don't take kindly to demanding teenage girls.”

“What do you want to know, and what will you offer in return?” continues Violet.

I close my eyes in despair, but Mr. Woodside’s eyes shine. “You have your hands full dealing with her as a bond, Rowan,” he comments and shakes his head. “But as I appreciate directness, even bordering on insolence, here's the deal. Tell me where you found the tiara and I will tell you why I’m interested in the item and why I think Whitegrove took the tiara back.”

“Back? The tiara does belong to them?” I ask.

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