weren’t committed. Did she think he was the one ? Maybe. Maybe she did.
It made her feel both happy and a little bit jealous that Ingrid had found her one. Emily hadn’t seen Ingrid admit to that for a very long time, but Ingrid and Gabe were both pretty much aware that they were it for each other and stumbling ever closer to actually full-time admitting it.
First things first though, time to find the killer, end the case, get on with the trip, and maybe send sexier pics of herself to Dean than Ingrid did to Gabe. That whole foot pic thing had been funny. Now it had some sort of weird couple-hood to it that no one else could get. Emily did not want to know if Gabe kissed Ingrid’s toes or if the pics were as far as it went.
* * * * * * * *
“Ms, Brown,” the Presidium guy with the weird name said just as Emily was gearing up to harass the wife. Alice? Alons? Alois? “We’d like to speak with you again.”
Emily licked her lips and wondered if they realized she and Ingrid had truth serumed everyone. And if they did realize that—just how much trouble were they in?
Emily went back into the room and sat across the Presidium cops. Last time they had just been getting a feel for what happened. This time, they seemed to have real questions.
“You’re from near Gresham, Oregon?”
“If you call being like 300 miles away being close by,” Emily said sarcastically not liking that opening question one bit.
“But you told Carol Lyman that you were there recently,” Igor said.
Emily’s face froze and then she said, “I was in Portland. Which I believe is near Gresham. And when I was in Portland, I got on the freeway going the wrong way. It took me a while to figure it out. I think that happened in Gresham. Or near there. I don’t know for sure.”
Igor cleared his throat and the scritch-scratch of his pencil on the paper was a little too loud for what seemed normal.
Emily tried to remain calm, but the feeling of being a suspect again was making her angry. She could feel her face getting flushed and her exhaustion combined with her anger was a bad thing. Now that she’d been practicing magic she was setting things on fire accidentally almost as often as Ingrid. So, Emily took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
She took another breath in and then Alois asked, “Are you upset?”
“You seem to be insinuating that I had something to do with what is happening out there.”
Yes. Obviously. She was upset. She wasn’t stupid. These questions weren’t being asked to pass the time.
“Your best friend was just a suspect in a murder in Sage Island.”
“So that means I killed that guy?”
“We’re just trying to get a handle on what is happening,” Igor lied.
Emily cleared her throat and refused to reply to that baiting comment.
“Did you know Joe Laszlo before today,” Alois asked.
Emily replied the same answer she had given before. “I did not know him. I do not know him. I do not consider feeling for a pulse and considering CPR to be knowing someone. He was dead when Ingrid caught him.”
“Do you know Katie Laszlo?”
“Is that his wife?”
“Yes.” Igor glanced at Alois and then back at Emily.
“I was just curious,” Emily said, “Because I don’t know either of them and I don’t know if they were married or lovers or siblings or random individuals with the same last name.”
“Let me explain something to you,” Igor said. “You and Ingrid are the only people here who have been murder suspects before.”
Emily did not reply.
“You are a witch. Certainly witchcraft was used in this killing.”
Emily cocked her head and waited. They were not done.
“You and Ingrid live close enough to possibly know this couple.”
Oh did they? Three hundred miles was close? Just neighbors, really.
“In addition, you were just near the victim’s home.”
Emily took a deep calming breath in and let it out. And then again. And again. She finally said, “And did you talk to
It made her feel both happy and a little bit jealous that Ingrid had found her one. Emily hadn’t seen Ingrid admit to that for a very long time, but Ingrid and Gabe were both pretty much aware that they were it for each other and stumbling ever closer to actually full-time admitting it.
First things first though, time to find the killer, end the case, get on with the trip, and maybe send sexier pics of herself to Dean than Ingrid did to Gabe. That whole foot pic thing had been funny. Now it had some sort of weird couple-hood to it that no one else could get. Emily did not want to know if Gabe kissed Ingrid’s toes or if the pics were as far as it went.
* * * * * * * *
“Ms, Brown,” the Presidium guy with the weird name said just as Emily was gearing up to harass the wife. Alice? Alons? Alois? “We’d like to speak with you again.”
Emily licked her lips and wondered if they realized she and Ingrid had truth serumed everyone. And if they did realize that—just how much trouble were they in?
Emily went back into the room and sat across the Presidium cops. Last time they had just been getting a feel for what happened. This time, they seemed to have real questions.
“You’re from near Gresham, Oregon?”
“If you call being like 300 miles away being close by,” Emily said sarcastically not liking that opening question one bit.
“But you told Carol Lyman that you were there recently,” Igor said.
Emily’s face froze and then she said, “I was in Portland. Which I believe is near Gresham. And when I was in Portland, I got on the freeway going the wrong way. It took me a while to figure it out. I think that happened in Gresham. Or near there. I don’t know for sure.”
Igor cleared his throat and the scritch-scratch of his pencil on the paper was a little too loud for what seemed normal.
Emily tried to remain calm, but the feeling of being a suspect again was making her angry. She could feel her face getting flushed and her exhaustion combined with her anger was a bad thing. Now that she’d been practicing magic she was setting things on fire accidentally almost as often as Ingrid. So, Emily took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
She took another breath in and then Alois asked, “Are you upset?”
“You seem to be insinuating that I had something to do with what is happening out there.”
Yes. Obviously. She was upset. She wasn’t stupid. These questions weren’t being asked to pass the time.
“Your best friend was just a suspect in a murder in Sage Island.”
“So that means I killed that guy?”
“We’re just trying to get a handle on what is happening,” Igor lied.
Emily cleared her throat and refused to reply to that baiting comment.
“Did you know Joe Laszlo before today,” Alois asked.
Emily replied the same answer she had given before. “I did not know him. I do not know him. I do not consider feeling for a pulse and considering CPR to be knowing someone. He was dead when Ingrid caught him.”
“Do you know Katie Laszlo?”
“Is that his wife?”
“Yes.” Igor glanced at Alois and then back at Emily.
“I was just curious,” Emily said, “Because I don’t know either of them and I don’t know if they were married or lovers or siblings or random individuals with the same last name.”
“Let me explain something to you,” Igor said. “You and Ingrid are the only people here who have been murder suspects before.”
Emily did not reply.
“You are a witch. Certainly witchcraft was used in this killing.”
Emily cocked her head and waited. They were not done.
“You and Ingrid live close enough to possibly know this couple.”
Oh did they? Three hundred miles was close? Just neighbors, really.
“In addition, you were just near the victim’s home.”
Emily took a deep calming breath in and let it out. And then again. And again. She finally said, “And did you talk to
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