Page 25 of Fang Fatale

“After she disappeared. He came in asking whether she’d said anything to me. He was polite at first.”

“And then?”

“He stopped being polite.”

Her expression darkens, though her hands remain steady.

“He didn’t touch me, if that’s what you’re wondering. Men like Leland rarely dirty their own hands. He merely explained how unfortunate it would be if my lease changed or my suppliers stopped returning my calls.”

“He threatened your business.”

“He called it a conversation.”

Of course he did.

“Did you tell him anything?”

“I told him Birdie once mentioned wanting to live somewhere no one could make choices for her.”

“That’s all?”

Lavinia smiles faintly. “I may also have suggested the Forbidden Forest eats men in expensive shoes.”

I glance down at my own.

“They’re reinforced.”

“I’m sure that will comfort your grieving family.”

I reach for a small succulent with purple-tipped leaves.

“You’re stealing that,” she says.

“I’m preserving evidence.”

“That’ll be eight dollars.”

I leave ten on the counter.

The afternoon has softened by the time I step back outside, but my thoughts have sharpened.

Leland described a fiancée who became unstable without warning.

Lavinia described a woman who had been searching for an exit long before she ran.

One of them is lying.

As I return to my car, I catch myself looking toward the road leading to Button Cottage.

I don’t drive there.

I have professional standards.

Instead, I take a completely necessary route past the Blackthorn Animal Haven, which happens to add only twelve minutes and three unnecessary turns to my journey home.

The shelter sits near the edge of town in a converted farmhouse surrounded by crooked fencing and hand-painted signs. I slow as I pass, telling myself I’m checking for traffic.

Then I see her.