Page 22 of Wateredge

“For someone loudly and proudly uninterested in how this place runs, Seren is correct. He was appointed. Mayor Fowler pressured the Council. It was one of those concession votes, where in exchange for him not vetoing the funds for a long list of programs, including some that I cared deeply for, the Council agreed to fund the position of Sheriff and hire one.” Ceridwen shrugged. “For what it’s worth, he came highly recommended. And he had a pristine record. No lawsuits, no complaints. Sure, he rode a desk most of his life, but then this is Crow’s Nest.”

Seren rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, this is Crow’s Nest, and he probably thought he’d be riding his desk yet again and going fishing half the year, but here he is in the middle of an investigation into a string of robberies and potential attempted murder.”

“We don’t know⁠—”

“The fuck we don’t, Ceri. I don’t care what the intent to burn down Crow & Cat was; Prudence could’ve died. And then there’s what happened with Deryn at the Resort. A slightly stronger hit, and that head of hers might not have proven yet again that it’s the hardest in the family.”

Ceridwen laid her hand on top of Rhiannon’s in a silent apology. Rhiannon nodded and entwined their fingers.

“Tell us about this latest thing.” Seren gave the coffee shop a cursory glance before focusing on her sisters.

Ceridwen leaned closer.

“The town hall archives have always been a rather messy place. I mean, several times the Council tried to fundraise for digitization, but so far, only current documentation is going into the computers. The past is in hundreds of boxes in the basement.”

“Not ideal,” Rhiannon mused, sipping her coffee.

“No.” Ceridwen turned her mug around in small circles, her words careful. “I needed to look at the history of permits for a property that keeps coming up on the market and changing hands in a pattern that seems strange to me. It came up for a vote again this morning, for the damn museum. I swear I have seen that address at least half a dozen times in the last few years. Always some kind of construction or expansion permit, and then nothing ever materializes. If I didn’t believe in Hanlon’s Razor to ‘not attribute to evil what you can to incompetence,’ I’d totally think that someone is trying to hold that space. Set it aside. Not let anything else be built on this specific plot.”

Ceridwen raised her coffee, then set it down, her mouth a thin line of discontent as she kept speaking.

“I asked Christian. He said the plot and its address looked familiar. Still, I know that piece of land. Hell, I know all the land in Crow’s Nest, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what’s going on with it. The plot where Paloma built the Refuge had a very similar trajectory, only she managed to get the permits, figure out the timeline, and raise the building in a month. Anyway, Christian will look into it. He’s been so busy with the Crow & Cat opening, then burning, and now in the middle of renovation, he’s missed a few Council meetings here and there.”

Rhiannon nodded again. Seren knew Judge Astor had been helping her with the antique bookstore. Unlike Ceridwen and Rhiannon, Seren was a touch too young to remember much of him from her childhood. But he had a knack for making sullen teenager Seren smile despite herself, which back then was a feat in and of itself.

“Why is this museum a thing again? Didn’t Douchebag What’s-His-Face lose the election and thus the project lost traction?” Seren made a face at the entire ridiculous situation.

“You’d think, but no. It keeps popping up. But now with the resignation of the councilmen, I hope it won’t happen anymore. As the Caw states, Paloma’s Refuge stands on the land it was slated to be built on, but then this other property caught my eye. Just too many permutations, being sold and bought and sold again too fast, like they’re hiding something. I can’t really grasp the why behind any of it. So I’m just going to keep looking.”

Ceridwen sighed, her shoulders tense and her face showing signs of unhappiness, the fine lines around her mouth in sharp relief against her otherwise pristine skin.

“Anyway, back to the break-in that possibly never was,” Ceridwen went on, eyes refocusing again, clearly ready to move from one puzzle to another. “The basement has never been a paragon of cleanliness and organization. But this morning, it looked like way too many archive boxes were misplaced. Some were opened, some were stuffed haphazardly with the paperwork. Files were in the wrong boxes, too.”

“More so than usual?” Rhiannon shrugged. “I needed a piece of paper on the historical property records of the Atelier. I might as well have been looking for a needle in a haystack. It’s a mess down there, Ceri.”

Ceridwen’s shrug was far from nonchalant.

“Hence, Paloma and I are debating the actual occurrence of the break-in. And the subsequent need to involve law enforcement.”

“But you felt something?”

Seren knew how her question might sound. And yet, she also knew her sisters would understand. When Ceridwen’s gaze sharpened, she knew the latter proved true.

“Something was there, Rennie.”

Her sister’s use of the childhood nickname—which nobody but Deryn used anymore and even then only to tease and pester her—made Seren’s hands stop their task of polishing the portafilter’s handle.

“Something, or someone?” Seren knew her voice trembled when she finally spoke up.

“In light of Victoria’s recent… revelation, let’s just say I am more inclined to believe it was someone.” Ceridwen kept turning the mug in circles on the counter, not looking at her sisters. Seren’s heart stuttered in her chest. Rhiannon was the one to break the silence this time.

“I wanted to tell you all when we were at Victoria’s, but with everything that happened that night, it slipped my mind then.” Rhiannon looked over her shoulder before turning back to face her sisters. “In the pile that Prudence took from her father and that we saved from the fire, there’s a particular diary that might yet prove to be of great importance.”

Ceridwen lifted her gaze. Seren set the portafilter down. Rhiannon went on.

“Most of the books are either in bad shape or just disjoined papers. Cataloguing and deciphering have been… not easy. I am literally letting Christian take care of Crow, Cat & Possum mostly on his own as I handle the restoration.”