Maudlin's Mayhem (Bewitching Bedlam #2)(40)
I continued through the hallways until I reached the back wing, which housed the fire department, courthouse, and the sheriff’s office. As I pushed through the swinging doors, Bernice, the receptionist who was also the dispatcher, waved at me. She was talking into her headset, and she held up a finger, pointing me toward the waiting area. I nodded, taking a seat, listening as she attempted to field the caller.
“I’m sorry that you have an infestation of snails in your garden, Mrs. Chumalug, but we can’t arrest your neighbor for cursing your garden. Snails are common around here. Might I suggest you set out bowls of beer for them? … No, I am not being facetious. You set out the bowl, let them get in, then throw the slugs and snails away with the beer.… Yes, I understand you don’t approve of alcohol, but—all right then, why don’t you… No, I am not being flippant.”
Delia peeked out into the waiting room, saw me, and motioned me back. Silently wishing Beatrice the best in dealing with Mrs. Chumalug, I followed the sheriff down the hall, through a maze of desks, into her office. She closed the door behind me and motioned for me to sit down. I was nursing the last of my mocha. The surge of caffeine had done a world of good in waking me up.
“So…Thornton’s dead.” I spilled out the story about the hex and Bubba and everything else that had happened, ending with, “I have a bunch of Thornton’s things at my place. Should I wait for his family, or do you want me to bag them up and bring them in?”
She shrugged. “We looked for family but couldn’t find anybody. You can keep them, if you want, or bring them here, I guess.”
I glanced around her office and finally asked what was on both of our minds. “Given he was Essie’s boy toy, are you certain this was an accident? Could it have been murder?”
“We’ve found no evidence, but who knows at this point?” Delia opened a file folder and shoved a couple pictures across the desk.
I picked up the photos, studying them. The car was a crumpled mass of metal. At least I didn’t see Thornton in the picture. I had seen a lot of people die over the years, but I really wasn’t feeling up to seeing such a sunny, helpful man crushed by two tons of metal crashing into a tree. The other picture was of skid marks. He had suddenly veered off the road, so quickly there were scraps of tire on the asphalt.
“Tire blowout?”
“No, we checked for that. He skidded so quickly that it actually ripped some of the tread off the wheel. He must have been driving like a bat out of hell. See how wide of a swing the skid marks make? As totaled as the car is, he must have hit the tree at around seventy miles per hour.”
“That doesn’t sound like Thornton.” My stomach lurched. “There must not have been much left.”
“No, there really wasn’t. I’m afraid that what’s left of him is probably better off at the crematorium.”
I was about to ask who was responsible for taking charge of his remains when Delia’s phone rang. She answered, her expression changing from somber to guarded.
“No, really? All right, put her on.” A pause, then she continued. “Good morning, Shar-Shar. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” Another pause, then Delia let out an exasperated sigh. “Really? Are you fucking kidding me?”
I leaned forward. I knew the name from somewhere, but couldn’t place it.
“I can’t do much about it if she has a POA. Yes, tell the morgue to prepare the body for you—or what’s left of it. His things? Yes, I’ll tell her. No, I said I’ll tell her. She can bring them here and leave them for you. No, I am not going to accompany you to her door to get them. Deal with it and tell your mistress to suck it up.” Delia slammed down the phone. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
“Who were you talking to?” I had the horrible feeling I had been included in the conversation in a way that I really didn’t want to be.
“Shar-Shar. Essie’s human lapdog. Sharlene is Essie’s secretary who deals with all her business affairs during the day. Shar-Shar is more than a secretary, actually. The woman is a bloodhound. If there’s something Essie wants, she makes sure Essie gets it.”
I had had it up to my eyebrows with Essie.
“Essie can kiss my ass. She’s behind all of this. I know it. And any fucking vampire who hurts me or my loved ones can take a ride on my broomstick.” Exasperated, I flailed and a sudden flame caught hold in my hand. I stared at it, frowning.
“Maddy, put that out. Right now, before you set off the sprinkler system.” Delia wasn’t angry, she just gave me a warning look.
Frustrated, I pulled the fire back. But that didn’t stop my fingers from itching. When I had snuffed out the flame, all I could think about was taking my long silver spike that I had recently dug out of the keepsake chest and driving it through Essie’s chest. I had learned over the years that there were good vampires. But vamps like Essie gave the entire set a freakshow bad name.
“You will not go attack Essie. I can read you loud and clear. Listen, if she’s guilty of hexing you, we’ll figure out what to do about it. But if you dust her, that leaves her throne open to every wannabe in the area. And Maddy, you know as well as I do that there are bigger and badder vamps out there than Essie. A lot worse.” Delia held my gaze for a moment.
I reined in my anger, but I was still seething. “All right. You make a good point.” I debated telling her that she didn’t know just how big or how bad some of them were, but I wasn’t sure how secure her office was. “Delia, how well protected do you keep this office?” I brought out a notebook and scribbled, Bugs, cameras? I showed it to her.