Finally, Gran had clasped a silver bracelet around my wrist. “I bought this for you in Ireland, my love.” I’d seen the same design on rings, two hands entwined around a heart.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s a claddagh. For love, loyalty and friendship. All of which I have for you.”
I hugged them both, and then we went down together for the impromptu vampire knitting club meeting. I didn’t bother taking my knitting. I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.
As the group began to gather, I got a few compliments on my new sweater, and I happily showed off my new bracelet as well. Gran said, “I was disappointed not to find a shop to rent in Ballydehag, but perhaps I’m not quite ready to leave Oxford.”
“We’ll keep looking,” Sylvia assured her. Because, as hard as it was, we were going to have to get Gran out of Oxford before she ran into an old friend when I wasn’t around with my trusty forgetting spell.
Lochlan and Rafe arrived together. Lochlan thanked me for inviting him as though this was a great treat.
Rafe made the introductions, though most of the vampires already knew the Irish vamp.
“Right,” Lochlan said, rubbing his pale hands together. “Let’s catch a murderer.”
That was as good a way to start our meeting as any. I told them about my phone conversation and how Pam’s ex had hired a PI who never found evidence of an affair. Theodore, as a private investigator himself, seemed unimpressed with his American colleague’s work. I got the feeling that he was fairly certain if he’d been on the case, he would have uncovered plenty of evidence. “So that’s a dead end, then.”
“Except that we know that she moved from her husband to somebody who must have been richer and maybe even titled. She wouldn’t have left her husband if she didn’t think she was onto a good thing,” I said.
“Do you think that’s what brought her to England?” Gran asked.
“I don’t know. But I doubt she came purely to get a degree,” I said. “So whoever she left her husband for, what happened to him? Did they break up? Or did she follow him to England?” I told them about seeing that Instagram photo of her and Jeremy at the Henley Regatta last July. “Is that who brought her to England? Was it someone else?”
I looked at Theodore. “What do you think?”
He looked quite pleased to be asked. “The trail is cold, of course. But I do like a challenge.”
“There isn’t time for you to go to North America, though. Do you have contacts there?”
“Lucy, I have contacts everywhere.”
The vampire network never failed to impress me. There were underground roots connecting clusters of vampires all over the world. And they seemed to have an amazing intelligence-gathering network.
“Okay. See what you can find out.”
Then I related that final comment, that Conrad Forbes wished he hadn’t bought Pamela an art gallery.
“That must be where Pamela met the man she began her affair with,” Lochlan said, glancing around. “Surely?”
Sylvia, who had been inspired by a Dolce & Gabbana crocheted dress on the Milan runway, was once more busy with her crochet hook. However, she stopped the rapid movement and glanced up. “Isn’t Harvard in Boston?”
“Yes.”
She appeared troubled. Finally, she said, “Prince Vikram told me he spent last summer in Boston with friends. No doubt it’s a coincidence, but I felt I should mention it.”
“What do you think, Lucy?” Theodore asked me.
Like Sylvia, I hated to think of that delightful man somehow being involved with Pamela or, even worse, in her death. “I don’t know. I didn’t see any interaction between them at all the night of the dinner.” I turned to Rafe. “Did you?”
He shook his head.
Theodore reported that Pamela’s tutor did have a book coming out about Renaissance painting, but Pamela had never offered to hold a party for him. No surprise there. Theodore also said he doubted the man was involved in art theft since he was in his eighties and suffering from macular degeneration.
“You mean he’s going blind?” Dr. Weaver asked.
“Yes. So he’d have no use for paintings.”
I looked around the room. “We’re missing something. What is it?”
Every one of us looked frustrated. Sylvia said, “If only Pamela could speak to us.”
I had an idea. One that had been growing on me all evening. “Maybe she can.”
Sylvia turned to me. “You can speak with the dead now? Your witch abilities have improved.”
“No, I can’t commune with the dead. I’m not that good a witch. But I have a way that Pamela could get a message to her killer.” And that got everyone’s attention.
I said, “Theodore, can you manipulate a photograph?”
Theodore looked quite perturbed at the question. “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Because we need proof. And we don’t have any.”
Theodore looked as stern as his baby face would allow him to. “Lucy, are you suggesting that I, a licensed private investigator, tamper with evidence?”
I made a sort of a cringing face. “Not tamper with evidence, exactly. More like invent the possibility.”
“Certainly not.” He looked like I’d really disappointed him. “I could lose my license.”
I thought he’d lose it a lot faster if whatever governing body there was discovered he was undead.
Into the slightly uncomfortable silence, Hester said, “I can do it.”
We all turned to look at Hester. “You can?”
“Don’t look so surprised. What else am I supposed to do with my time?” She let out a huge sigh. “I’m so bored. So yes, I play on the computer.”
“And you can manipulate photos?” Carlos asked her.
“Yeah.”
“That’s so cool.” He sounded quite enthusiastic, which perked her right up. But being with Carlos always perked her up. She’d come so far from that droopy, mournful teenager constantly dressed in draping black. Now she wore tight jeans and a sweater that was dark purple. Okay, it wasn’t a big jump from all black, but it was a step forward.
However, I was more interested in her photo manipulation
