A Wonky Apprentice: Wonky Inn Book 17 by Jeannie Wycherley

Author:Jeannie Wycherley [Wycherley, Jeannie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bark at the Moon Books
Published: 2023-10-10T16:00:00+00:00

“Boo!”

George was standing at the office door, one hand raised as though he were about to knock.

“Sorry! I was miles away.” I surveyed the clutter on my desk. Charity would have been annoyed with the mess. From downstairs came the clatter of plates. “What time is it?”

George checked his watch. “Six seventeen and thirrrrrrty-five seconds. Thirty-six. Thirty—”

“Alright, smart arse.” I smiled. “I ought to be downstairs helping with the evening service.”

George slid into the room and pulled up a chair. “And yet you make no move to do so …”

“I should …” But no. Not yet.

“You’ve just had a bath,” George surmised.

I mock-gasped. “What gave it away?” I asked. “My wet hair, perchance?”

“That and the fact that you smell … I was going to say edible, but I’m not sure I should, given that you’re a married woman.”

“I’ll take it,” I said. “If you like the smell, you should invest in Millicent’s bubble bath or bath oils. They are heavenly!”

“I definitely will,” George said. “I need all the help I can get with winding down at the moment.”

“The job getting to you?” I asked, not without sympathy.

“Maybe I’m getting old.” He pulled a face, then slapped his thighs. “Anyway! You sent me a message? Said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes.” I hesitated, then reached for Wrikar’s map. “It may be something or nothing. To be honest, I almost didn’t bother …” Not after the afternoon’s events. He’d been a hero. Now that I was highlighting the map to George, it felt like I was betraying the young man.

I unrolled the map and placed it on the desk between us.

“What’s this?” He reached for the broken mug I used as a pen holder and weighed down a particularly curly corner of the map.

“One of my apprentices drew it,” I said. “This is the activity they were engaged in when Holly Hock was killed.”

“Huh?” His brow furrowed.

“She gave the apprentices a task. They were sent out to make a map of the surroundings,” I explained. “Miss Hock allocated them a few hours before dinner to complete the task.”

“A few hours?” George stared disdainfully at Wrikar’s map. “There’s not much on here for a few hours’ work.”

“They were encouraged to focus on a particular magickal aspect of the village or the inn’s grounds that appealed to them personally.”

“Right. So this person likes graveyards and—” George’s finger tapped the black circles. “What are these supposed to represent?”

I pursed my lips. There probably wasn’t an awful lot of point in explaining about the pockets of dark energy Wrikar had picked up on, so I ignored the question. “I was more concerned about this …” I drew his attention to Middlemoor Lane.

“Mmm.” George looked more closely at the detail. “Hm. Mmm. Right.” He took another look at the map as a whole. “Interesting.”

“Yes. I knew you’d think so.”

“You think so, too.” George looked over at me and raised his eyebrows.

“It jumped out at me,” I said reluctantly.

“Is he a killer?” George asked bluntly.

“What?” My mouth dropped open.

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