"Sheriff, is there a problem?" Granny asked.
"Indeed," Nottingham said. Sabrina couldn't help but stare at the horrible scar that ran down the man's face. She wondered if that was what made him so ugly or if he had been grotesque before the knife had done its work. "It appears we've miscalculated the tax on your property."
"Oh, a refund," Granny said, clapping her hands.
"Bah!" the man said with a sick laugh. "The audit on your house failed to calculate the value of the land it is built on. You have nearly three acres of incredibly valuable property. I'm afraid we need to add to your tax liability."
"How much more?" Sabrina said suspiciously.
"Oh, just another three hundred thousand dollars," the sheriff replied.
"That's outrageous!" Granny Relda cried. "It is, isn't it," Nottingham said as a sinister grin crept across his face.
"And when we pay this, what are you going to tax next? The air around the house? You're just trying to get rid of us!" Sabrina shouted.
"Well, Mrs. Grimm, your girls are a lot more clever than I was led to believe," the sheriff said. "By the way, the taxes are still due on Friday."
When they got home, Granny Relda was dazed and distant, talking to herself in German. She made some peanut-butter-and-rose-petal sandwiches for the girls and Puck and then asked Uncle Jake and Mr. Canis for a moment of their time. The three adults climbed the steps upstairs for some privacy.
"This is bad," Daphne said.
"Don't worry, marshmallow. You'll get used to the cold," Puck said as he slathered mustard all over his sandwich.
"Granny will come up with an answer," Sabrina said angrily. She flashed the boy a look that said "shut your trap."
Moments later, Uncle Jake returned. "Good news, girls. I'm going to help you with your case. Your grandmother is a little busy with the financials, but it's nothing to worry about."
"Granny said that yesterday when we only owed a hundred and fifty thousand dollars," Daphne reminded him.
"It's all details. Now, where are we on the case?"
"At a dead end," Sabrina reminded him.
"Any suspects?"
"Too many to count," Daphne said.
Uncle Jake scratched his head. "Well, let's put our noggins together for a second. Both the victims had something magical stolen from them. Whoever or whatever stole the objects was pretty small. The victims were both Everafters. What else do they have in common?"
Daphne spoke up. "They're both women."
"They're both very powerful," Sabrina added.
"They were both here the other night," Puck said without looking up from his fourth sandwich. Everyone turned to look at him. Sabrina was shocked that the boy fairy had even noticed.
"That's a good point, Puck," Uncle Jake said. "Both of our victims visited us two nights ago."
"Do you think there might be a connection?" Sabrina asked.
"Could be," Uncle Jake said. "Let's go ask some of the others that came by. Maybe they've got something missing too."
"There were a lot of guests. Who should we see first?" Daphne asked.
Uncle Jake grinned. "Let's go talk to Briar." Sabrina rolled her eyes.
As they drove through the town, Uncle Jake chattered on about how pretty Briar Rose was, how smart Briar Rose was, how he hoped Briar Rose wasn't mixed up in the mystery. After a while, even Daphne got tired of hearing him sing the princess's praises. Puck threatened to leap from the car several times to end his misery, and Sabrina was considering joining him.
Luckily, Briar's place of business was not far. Ms. Rose owned a quaint little coffee shop three blocks from the courthouse. It bordered the Hudson River, not far from the train station and a tiny marina. Sacred Grounds, as it was called, was a favorite of coffee fanatics. The chalkboard outside promised dozens of different coffees, from espressos to something called a cafe macchiato. It also advertised a variety of muffins, scones, cookies, and donuts. Sabrina had passed the shop many times and noted that it was always jam-packed with customers. Coffee seemed to have the same effect on adults as magic did on her. She remembered her own mother waiting in line for an hour to buy a seven-dollar latte.
Once outside the store Uncle Jake ran his fingers through his hair, blew into his hand to make sure his breath was sweet, and straightened the collar of his shirt.
"How do I look?" he asked the children.
"Why do you care? She's just a girl," Puck said. "Girls are disgusting."
"You won't always feel like that," Uncle Jake said. "Want to bet?"
"You look mucho handsome-o," Daphne said, straightening the cuff of her uncle's coat.