Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(87)

She nodded, an almost imperceptible movement.

I waited.

“Dan,” she said.

“Dan what?”

“I believe he blew up his own rhubarb.”

“He… Okay. Why would Dan do that?”

“By accident. I think…” She seemed to make up her mind, and all hesitancy disappeared. “I think he had bought the dynamite and planned to blow up something else but changed his mind.”

“What something else?”

“Chris’s tanks. Not all of them, but the ones containing his rhubarb beer. I think he was experimenting with how much dynamite he’d need to take out his competition. Not Chris—just the beer. And it backfired.”

It made a certain sense. Dan had jumped on the chance to lay the explosion blame on Chris—an easier and less violent way to take out his competition, which suited Dan’s style. But Chris had his alibi for not being available to set the dynamite in Dan’s yard. Chris was with Margot Lapointe.

“Did Dan tell you that?”

“No. But he mutters to himself when he’s angry. And he’s always angry.” She smiled almost fondly, and I found myself amazed at her capacity for patience. “I heard him while I was working in my flowerbeds. At first, I thought he was arguing with someone, but when I looked over in his yard, he was arguing with himself.”

“About blowing up Chris’s beer?”

“About if he should test it on his own rhubarb.”

“Did he actually mention the dynamite?”

“No. But very early the next morning, he was out in his backyard, and that was when the explosion happened. I hadn’t put together that he might have blown up his own garden. I mean, who does that sort of thing?”

“Dan.” I sighed. “That’s the sort of thing I’d expect from him.”

She nodded. “That’s what I’d been thinking. But I didn’t have proof. But if you’re doubting that he shot you, I thought you should know I’m doubting his story about the explosion.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you, Pearl. It helps.”

She folded her hands in front of her again. “You’re still going, aren’t you?”

The song of Heim’s power was filling my head again. Not to the point of pain, but it was a pressure I couldn’t duck. I had two days to find the mortal the power belonged to and still had no idea how to do that. If I wanted any time alone with Dan, it would have to be now.

Dan was the beginning of all this, and I’d just have to start with him and see if I could unravel the week’s events.

I tucked my hair back behind one ear, wishing I had a rubber band. “Dan will be transferred to the valley on Monday. Now would be best. Plus there really is paperwork I need to work on. If I get tired, I’ll nap on the cot.”

“I don’t like it, but it’s not like I can tie you up. Let me get your medicines.”

“Thanks,” I said, getting into my coat. “Um, can I ask a favor?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I won’t lie to your sisters.”

“I know. Would you mind driving me home? I’m going to need my car.”





Chapter 27


IT TOOK three times as long as normal to drive the short distance to my house. The day had turned out pleasant and sunny. Good weather on a weekend meant people were pouring into Ordinary for the festival.

That made for a nice spring kickoff for local businesses. But for the regulars who lived here, it meant suddenly living in an overpopulated town that wasn’t quite big enough to handle the influx.

Pearl dropped me off in my driveway, and I ducked out of her car repeating that I was fine and I was going to be fine, and if I wasn’t fine, I’d call her.

She drove off and I walked over toward my parked Jeep.

Two steps across the crunch of gravel and a wave of nausea hit me.

Dan screaming, holding the gun at arm’s length as if it were a stick he could stab me with. Death looming behind me, an oddly comforting shadow.

Then Dan squeezed the trigger.

I planted one hand on the hood of the Jeep and opened my mouth for air, pushing that visceral memory away. The scent of pine and salt tasted like blood on my tongue.

Hold it together, I told myself. Take this one step at a time.

I breathed until my hands stopped shaking, then crouched to pull the spare keys out from the magnetic holder in the wheel well. Once inside the car, I studied the area from a cop’s perspective. Dan had been standing in the middle of the cul-de-sac. Than and I had been near the stairs leading up to my house.

There was a dark stain on the gravel that must be my blood.

A sick chill washed over me, and I leaned my head against the steering wheel until the nausea passed. I was fine now. Everything was fine.

I looked back up and wiped sweat from my forehead.

Think. If Dan’s gun wasn’t loaded, where did the bullet come from?

The end of the cul-de-sac was hemmed by coastal pines, Oregon grape, and salal bushes. Far below that was the beach and ocean.

The house across the street was an empty vacation home built far enough off the road that several trees and bushes obscured the face of it.

Someone could have hidden there on the walk, or porch, or behind the bushes. What were the chances someone with a loaded gun was lurking behind Dan?