Page 27 of Investigation of a Quest

“The professor who was killed traveled a lot,” Bel half-lied. “We’re trying to find a connection. Maybe they crossed paths on one of their trips.”

“Oh.” The woman nodded. “Sorry, I can’t help you. He never talked about this trip.”

“Thank you anyway.” Bel handed her the picture. “And again, we are so sorry for your loss.”

The detectives paid their respects and drove to the hospital. Dr. Calon’s office was just as tidy as the one in his home, but the strange yellow brick already provided the connection they needed. They also spoke to the security guards, who were gracious enough to let them view their footage. It clearly showed Dr. Frank Calon leaving work and walking to his car. He left the parking lot alive and well with no one following him, so if the killer kidnapped him, it was at some unknown location they’d probably never find. Professor Samuel had a predictable schedule, making him an easy target, and Dr. Calon had a predictable nature. Everyone raved about his kindness, so it wouldn’t have been hard for a witch to pose as a damsel in distress on the roadside to lure him into stopping.

After the hospital interviews proved fruitless, the detectives said goodbye to the deputy. A woman used to short and boring work hours, the endless interviews had Dorothy’s brain spinning. Bel could practically see the poor woman’s head teetering, so they released her from the rest of the day’s responsibilities, promising to update her with any developments. They didn’t have time to babysit a newbie. Something bigger than a murder investigation was poisoning their towns, and it was safer for the detectives to investigate alone so they could be honest.

So they returned to Bajka and their paperwork and wasted hours scouring the internet for any reference to yellow bricks. The only matches they found, though, were painted garden stones, but Bel hadn’t expected to get lucky. She’d felt the weight the broken piece in Jack Samuel’s apartment carried. The internet didn’t hold her answers, but she didn’t need technology with something just as ancient at home.

After admitting defeat, Bel drove through the darkness and her exhaustion to the Reale Estate, the sprawling mansion dark, save for the single light illuminating the door. She let herself inside and was greeted by another solitary light shining on the stairs. Eamon had left her a trail of lightbulbs to guide her through the night to his office, where a seventy-pound greeter body-slammed her chest without so much as a warning bark.

“Oh lord!” Bel stumbled backward, her back smacking the wall across the hall, and she awkwardly flailed about in the darkness so she wouldn’t drop her main man.

“Someone does not like that you’re working your old hours,” Eamon chuckled as he spun his office chair to face her. “Make that two someones.”

“You were the one begging me to go back to work.” Bel rolled her eyes as she finally gained control of the squirming pitbull. “So don’t you start… also stop trying to make me feel guilty about Cerberus. It’s hard enough leaving him all day again.” She planted a big kiss on her baby’s head before throwing herself, dog and all, onto her boyfriend’s lap. “Maybe Griffin will let him become our mascot so I can bring him to the station.”

“Hey! Then who will keep me company while you leave me alone to waste away?”

“Wasting away?” Bel pinched his impressive biceps. “Fine, you can keep him during the day, but only because I trust you more than the deputies. He’s safer with you.”

“You hear that, Buds?” Eamon reached around her and scratched the pittie’s head. “Mom said you can stay with me, but tell her it would be better if you two just moved in.”

“Here we go.” Bel rolled her eyes.

“But Cerberus wants it,” Eamon teased. “He wants us to always be together.”

“We are always together.” Bel kissed his cheek. “We rarely spend time apart.”

“Hence why we should live together.”

“Or maybe we should spend more nights in our own homes,” Bel said, her mind flashing to Olivia’s suggestion.

“Do you want that?” Eamon asked. “I can give you space if you need it, but do you really want time away from me?” The teasing fled his face, and Bel didn’t have the heart to torture him. He looked as if she’d just driven a stake through his chest.

“My long work hours keep us apart enough,” she said, finally lowering her heavy dog to the floor, where he darted off to grab a chew toy. “I don’t need more. Occasionally, sure, but I don’t really want space.” The minute the words left her mouth, she recognized their truth. Olivia had suggested they separate to test Bel’s feelings while she contemplated the kids’ argument, but the thought of spending all day surrounded by death without Eamon to come home to sounded like her own personal hell. She didn’t want space. Not now. Not ever. And if she craved silence, wasn’t that what her new library was for? Eamon had kept his word. He never set foot inside unless invited. It was her peaceful solitude, and it was all the escape from him she needed.

“How’s the case?” he asked before she could admit it.

“Actually, have you ever seen these yellow bricks?” Going with the subject change, she pulled out her phone and showed him photos of Professor Samuel’s rock and Dr. Calon’s college photograph. “Both the scarecrow and the tin man had a reference to these, so we think it might be why they were killed. We have no clue what this stone means, but it isn’t just some rock. You should’ve felt the heaviness that flooded my chest when I touched the piece on the professor’s mantel.”

“Yellow brick…” Eamon zoomed in on each photo. “Odd color. Not bright, but not exactly natural. I’ve never seen this.”

“You haven’t?” Bel sagged against him in defeat. “I was really hoping you’d know where these came from. Neither the professor’s aide nor the doctor’s wife knew where the men had found these. Dr. Calon’s photo was taken in a jungle, but there are plenty of those in this world.”

“And there are no landmarks in this shot, so I can’t help you find a location,” Eamon said. “I can look into it, but I’m sorry I don’t know what this is.”

“Then what good are you?” Bel stood up, but he caught her waist and yanked her back into his lap.

“I’m a good kisser.” He planted one on her scars, and she tried to pretend that his lips didn’t affect her.

“Eh… you’re okay.”

“All right.” Eamon surged to his feet, taking her with him as he threw her over his shoulder. “Clearly, you need to go to bed because you’re talking nonsense.”

“What? You aren’t that good a kisser,” she laughed, wondering how long it would take him to prove her wrong.