Ben unfurled a scroll and shouted, “I think this is what we’re looking for.” He pushed books and papers out of the way on the desk and grabbed a couple of books to place on the curled edges to hold them down.
Dash leaned over and took a big whiff. “Smells old.”
Ben’s fingers flew over the handwriting. “It’ll take me a while to transcribe all the words, but if you look at the bottom, you can see the three signatures of the founders.”
The rest of the scribbles looked like gibberish, but I took special notice of the names. “That one must be Norberta Walker. And there’s the P for Prentice Goodwin. That leaves the first Hollis Hawthorne as the last one. And of course, he signed it larger than the other two.”
Dash pointed at the other things we’d unloaded. “What do you want me to do with all of this?”
No doubt Tipper had his reasons for saving all the other things, but it felt a little like taking advantage of the situation. “Technically, I guess it all belongs to me, but at this point, we’ve found what we need. Right, Ben?”
It took three more attempts at goading my advocate friend for him to acknowledge me. “Hmm, what? Oh, I think this has everything in it to clarify the rules of the council. I just need a little time.” He glanced at his watch. “Would you mind if I took this home with me? I’ve got some things there to help me examine old manuscripts.”
I chuckled at my friend and his love for history. “Of course you do. As long as you don’t share it with anyone else, then I see no problem with you taking it.”
Dash gathered up the other items and placed them back into the safe. “Hmm,” he uttered, pausing to stare at one particular piece.
“Did you find something else?” I asked, moving to get a closer look.
His body jerked as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but he placed whatever caught his attention in with the other stuff. “No. It’s nothing.”
I handed him the key so he could lock the safe. “Do you think I should hide it again with a spell?” Nothing I could conjure would match the strength of Tipper’s magic. That would require a much stronger witch, and the only one I knew who possessed that kind of power lay asleep in her bed and out of commission.
Dash placed the painting back on the wall, adjusting it left and right until I deemed it straight. “Since no one else knew it was there, I think it’ll be fine for now. I’ll take Ben out and make sure he gets home safe. We’ll leave you two to talk.”
Dash and Ben left in short order, and I heard the front door close with a light bang, leaving me alone to talk to Mason.
“Well, tonight was eventful,” I admitted, closing the door to Tipper’s study. With a little magic, I spellcast the lock into place for good measure.
“I saw that.” Mason raised an eyebrow. “Want to catch me up?”
It took a good half an hour to get in all the details from the last day, including my rising suspicions and the meeting. I yawned as I concluded the recap, relaxing on my bed.
“Well, there’s one thing I can say after hearing all that,” Mason said.
I turned on my side, holding the compact close to me while I tried to read his expression. “What’s that?”
“I think it’s time I head home.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Detective, I don’t think your superiors understand how things work down here.” Big Willie held Nana’s silver mirror in his hairy hand, fussing at Mason. “You belong to my department now, and if I say I need you back here, then you come back.”
The distant voice of Detective Clarkson rang through the other side. “We are on the cusp of catching our man, Sheriff, and I don’t think—”
“That’s the problem with you city boys. You don’t use the brains that were given to you.” Willie raised the mirror like he wanted to smash it into smithereens.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. No one needs seven years of bad luck with everything that’s going on,” I cautioned.
The Sasquatch sighed, counted to ten, and lifted the reflective surface back into place. Mason’s frustrated scowl made me want to reach through to the other side and pull him back with me.
“My decision’s been made,” Big Willie insisted. “I want Detective Clairmont off the case there and on his way back to Honeysuckle faster than a hot knife through butter.”
Detective Clarkson pushed my boyfriend out of the way, shoving his way into view. “Listen, we are so close to catching the animal, Sheriff. If you’ll let us keep Mason for a few more days, then I’m sure we’ll take down that wolf. If I had my way, we’d get rid of all of their kind.”
I jerked at the deep growl reverberating behind me. “All wolves? Or just the ones you can’t manage?” Dash challenged, moving in behind the sheriff so he could be seen.
Clarkson smirked. “Nice company you keep, Sheriff. I wouldn’t trust a werewolf as far as I could shoot a silver bullet in him.”
“That’s enough, Jack. And for your information, Mr. Channing is a wolf shifter. It would do you well to learn the difference,” Mason corrected.
My heart was torn between pride in my boyfriend for how far he’d come since the first time he’d met Dash and worry for his situation. I didn’t want him to lose the respect of someone he’d admired enough to take his advice to become a detective. At the same time, I needed him to return home and help me figure out how to fix things back to normal.
“Whatever you say, Clairmont. If you love wolves so much, maybe you should return home.” Mason’s colleague did nothing to hide his contempt.
“And maybe I should call some of
