“The witnesses in question include one of my deputies and her elderly parents, who are longtime respected members of this community.” Liam raised one eyebrow and gestured around the table before turning back to Matthews. “And personally, I don’t believe in spells or any of that mumbo-jumbo. I do, however, believe that Miss Freeman lied to me, which I assure you, will have much worse side effects than any spell.”
He swiveled to give Maya the full force of his stern glare. “Now, Miss Freeman, since Dr. Yager is clearly not the culprit in this case, perhaps you’d like to tell us who is. I’m guessing that since you didn’t want to name the person who actually attacked you, this was some kind of lover’s quarrel—maybe with a married man?” He gazed pointedly at Clive Matthews and Peter Callahan.
Callahan sputtered wordlessly, and Matthews’s face got so red, Molly ran to get him a glass of water.
“My goodness, Mr. Matthews,” she said. “You should see a doctor about that high blood pressure of yours. I had an uncle who looked like that right before he keeled over and died.”
Baba bit her lip so hard, she thought it would bleed.
Liam went on, ignoring the indignant protestations from the two men and focusing his attention on the little blonde, who seemed slightly flustered for the first time since Baba had seen her.
“I . . . I’m afraid I jumped to a conclusion,” Maya said, trying the eye-batting at Liam with no noticeable effect. “My attacker wore motorcycle gear and a helmet. I couldn’t see the person’s face, but since Barbara Yager had already been harassing and threatening me, I assumed it was her.” A woeful expression highlighted her battered face. “I am so very sorry for any trouble I might have caused.”
From under lowered eyelashes, she shot a virulent glare at Baba. Baba showed her teeth in a not-very-convincing smile and shot one right back.
“No problem at all,” Baba said. “I barely noticed the inconvenience.”
A sound like a distant wolf growling greeted this blithe statement, and Clive Matthews stopped sputtering long enough to look around for the source of the noise, shivering a little as if the room had suddenly gotten cold.
“Well, that is very kind of you, Dr. Yager,” Liam said in his most official tone. “Miss Freeman, I suggest you consider yourself lucky that Dr. Yager doesn’t want to press charges against you for making a false accusation. I hope next time you will think twice about making assumptions without any facts to back them up.”
He stood up. “Feel free to let me know if you remember anything else about your attacker, Miss Freeman. I wouldn’t want Mr. Matthews here to accuse me of not doing my job.”
“Oh no,” Mariska said sweetly. “I’m sure he would never do that. Would you, Mr. Matthews?”
Matthews and Callahan ushered Maya out, stalking stiff-necked through the crowd of gawking sheriff’s department employees. Nina waved at them gaily from her perch at the dispatcher’s station. Maya’s limp had mysteriously disappeared, and she seemed remarkably healthy as she slammed the door on her way out.
“Goodness,” Molly said, tucking her pen into her pad and heading back to her desk. “Wasn’t that exciting?”
“Yes,” Baba said, one corner of her mouth twitching up. “Wasn’t it?”
Liam’s face was all stern lines and cool composure; his jaw looked like it had been carved from granite. “A little more excitement than I prefer in my day, I’m afraid. It’s a good thing you had an iron-clad alibi, Dr. Yager, or things might have gone quite differently.”
Baba stood up and offered a hand to Mariska Ivanov as she struggled out of the hard metal chair. “A very good thing indeed, Sheriff. Lucky for me the Ivanovs invited me to dinner last night.”
Belinda helped her father up and said to Liam, “I’m just going to drive my parents and Barbara home, and then I’ll be back in to work, if that’s okay with you, Sheriff.”
Liam nodded at her, and only Baba saw Belinda’s tiny wink, like a glittering star in the dark night sky.
*
BABA STRETCHED HER long legs out in front of her and watched the sun set in vivid colors of red and orange behind the nearby hills like a fireball announcing the coming apocalypse. Crickets chorused gleefully along with the more doleful sounds of a mourning dove’s coo, and the evening’s first firefly blinked into view and then vanished again.
She and Liam sat on lawn chairs in front of the Airstream with Chudo-Yudo lying between them, roasting hot dogs over a portable copper fire pit and washing them down with, in Liam’s case, a beer from the local microbrewery, and in Baba’s, a crystal chalice filled with a crisp and fruity Riesling. Chudo-Yudo lapped at a large bowl of Guinness stout; his dragon physiology didn’t even notice the alcohol, he just liked the rich bitter taste.
The outside light by the Airstream’s door cast its warm glow over the encroaching darkness, making their impromptu cookout seem even cozier than it was. Baba felt as close to relaxed as she ever got; a sensation that, ironically, simply caused her stomach muscles to tense and her shoulders to hunch defensively.