Chapter Ninety-Eight

Havermouth, Present Time

“Oh my god, what happened?” June exclaimed from the front door.

Aislen looked up from scrubbing red paint off the hallway wall. “Looks like blood, doesn’t it?” She said with false cheer. “I’m like a murderer hiding my crime. Except, it wasn’t my crime. Or, at least,” she amended. “I wasn’t the one with the spray paint. I did fuck the Triquetra, though, so I guess I did the crime. Still do the crime occasionally, it seems,” she added to herself.

“Who did this?” June was horrified.

“A good question,” Aislen dropped the scrubbing brush into the bucket of water and peeled off her gloves. “Someone who doesn’t want me to sell the house, because who the fuck is going to buy a place that looks like a murder scene?”

“Wow,” June looked through the open door into the master bedroom. “Just, wow.”

“Playroom,” Aislen told her, with a mischievous grin. “The bed’s designed for a lot of play.”

“I’m not sure I even understand what you mean by that,” June admitted, walking in and trailing her hand over the frame.

“Well, it’s not just decorative. Those holes are handy for tying your lover to the bed, and the four-poster framework enables you to suspend your lover in the air with the right equipment.”

“Why in the air?” June looked up at the poles, speculatively.

“Well, some people like to feel helpless, some like to feel tied up, but also, with a sex swing, well,” she laughed. “You know, I haven’t actually tried one. I only know from reading the label. I’ll let you know how it goes when I’ve used it.”

“You have a sex swing?” June was entranced. She opened the armoire and gasped at the array of sex toys inside. “You use all these?”

“Only a couple so far,” Aislen was amused. “My…” She hesitated, trying to find the right word for Talen. “My boyfriend,” she decided. “My lover, he bought all this stuff. We’ve only been together for a little while, so we haven’t made our way through all the toys yet, but we’ll get there,” she added, with a satisfied smugness. Talen wasn’t going anywhere, she thought, and so there would be plenty of opportunity to try every single toy he’d purchased.

“I can’t even imagine a boyfriend who would buy this sort of thing,” June replied. “Most guys see toys as… you know,” she shrugged. “The enemy.”

“Not Talen,” Aislen told her. “He sees them as foreplay.”

“Wow.”

“Anyway, you didn’t come to check out my toy collection,” Aislen prompted.

“No, I came to tell you that the hearing is scheduled in two days, at eleven. I can pick you up at ten?”

“Sounds good,” Aislen replied. She’d have to go shopping, she added to herself. Her clothing order wasn’t due for another couple of days, and her graffiti artist had destroyed two outfits and most of her underwear. Thankfully, her newer sets and the naughty crotchless teddy had been in the washing, and her corsets had survived with minimal damage.

The sound of a car pulling up drew her attention to the window, and she groaned. “Fucking hell.”

“That’s Tabitha Marie from Channel Thirty-Two,” June said. “She’s, like, a local celebrity.”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” Aislen walked to the door as Tabitha stepped onto the porch. She saw the reporter’s eyes go to the painted message on the floorboards. Fuck, she thought. She had forgotten about that one. “What can I do for you?” Aislen drawled, crossing her arms, and leaning against the frame. “And you do not have permission to record me.”

“Hello, Aislen,” Tabitha smirked. “Aislen Carter performed a name change three years ago to Morgana Ivy.”

“Oh, yay, you can do an internet search. Do you want a sticker?” Aislen rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know why you’re being so hostile,” Tabitha replied. “I’m just doing my job.”

“And I don’t want to do an interview,” Aislen replied. “So, thanks for popping by.”

“You have a long and interesting history with this town,” Tabitha said swiftly. “Moved to Havermouth five years ago, but only lived here for a couple of months, during which time you managed to get quite the reputation,” her eyes went to the graffiti. “And get yourself tangled up in more than one tragedy. First Alfred Boyston suddenly died after meeting you, then you and Cameron Edison discovered the body of a little girl, Penelope James, and then…”

“Look,” Aislen interrupted. “I was there, you don’t have to list my life’s events to me. It’s a little creepy, by the way, how you’re stalking me. Are you some type of closeted BL fan? If that’s the case, just ask for a signature and move on. I’ve got some scrubbing to do.”

“Who spray painted Triquetra’s Whore on your house, Aislen?” Tabitha asked into her microphone.

“If I knew the answer to that question, they’d be the ones scrubbing it from my floors and walls, wouldn’t they?” Aislen retorted, with a toothy grin. “But don’t worry, Tabitha. These sorts of secrets come out eventually, don’t they?”

“Is that… Yes, it is. June Barnham,” Tabitha looked down the hall to where June hovered in the master bedroom door. “June’s brother, Guy, is due for parole…” Her eyes returned to Aislen, and Aislen could all but see the cogs turning. “You were here when Guy murdered his girlfriend Lucy Smythe..."

“It wasn’t murder!” June protested. “He was trying to help her.”

“Are you trying to connect me to that death, too, Tabby?” Aislen sneered. “Do you think that I was there when those two kids were fucking around with knitting needles?”

“People seem to die around you, Aislen Carter,” Tabitha observed, her eyes narrowing. “That is interesting, isn’t it?”

“Havermouth is a small town,” Aislen sighed. “I’m sure that I’m not the only common connection between these tragedies. And, you forget, my father also died,” she stepped back into the house and started to close the door. “And I was on the other side of the country when he did so, before you try to connect me to that.”

“I know that there is something… strange about you, Aislen Carter,” Tabitha stepped forward and caught the door, preventing Aislen from closing it. “I will find out what it is.”

“Sure, have fun with that. Now, move your hand or lose it,” Aislen warned, and Tabitha snatched back her hand as Aislen shoved the door closed in her face. “Well,” Aislen sighed, leaning back against the door. “That was fun… not. What are you up to now, June?” She added.

“Now?” June repeated, her expression blank. “I don’t… Nothing.”

“Great. Want to come and check out a cute potter with me?” Aislen checked through the window to make sure that Tabitha and her cameraman had left before grabbing up her bag.

“Leighton?” June blinked. “Sure, I guess.”

“Ah, you know him. Handy,” Aislen opened the door and ushered June out.

“It’s Havermouth,” June pointed out. “We pretty much grow up in each other’s pockets. No secrets and no privacy. Or, at least,” she amended, as Aislen locked the front door. “No privacy. I guess there are secrets, or you wouldn’t be the Secret Keeper. Is this a Secret Keeper thing?” She added, as she followed Aislen to the car. “Because people think that Leighton is the Secret Keeper?”

“A little bit,” Aislen admitted once they were in. “I want to meet the man that everyone has at the top of their list of suspects. I am intrigued. But also…” She reversed out of the drive. “My father didn’t have an accident, it was murder. He was into a few things, secrets…”

“Like you,” June murmured.

“I guess,” Aislen said under her breath. She’d never considered that there were any commonalities between herself and her father. “Anyway,” she continued. “I think that one of his secrets got him killed. He wrote me a letter, and in it he referred to a reporter. I don’t see my father talking to the likes of Tabby-Cat Marie. But a potter with a small paper called the Havermouth Exposé? Yeah, that would fit. I want to see what Leighton Richard does when I introduce myself as Aislen Carter.”