Bell(e)s in the Woods - 10. Friday, April 25, 2025 (I)

~The Lawyer~

Although I should have expected it, I was still surprised to find that Violet had called another emergency meeting for the morning. Considering that the message had arrived at four in the morning, one could imagine what her night had been like.

She looked the part when I entered the room we had used before, with its huge satellite image. Warren didn't look much better, but unlike Dust—whose blond stubble glinted in the overly bright light—at least he was clean-shaven.

Jonah was the last to enter, and before he had even sat down, Violet slapped a printed satellite image on the table, decorated with colorful dots and silver marker. “We need to talk about Phoebe's story.”

“How many problems are there?” Dust asked, yawning.

“Probably too many,” I remarked, receiving a grim nod of agreement from Violet.

Jonah snorted amusedly.

“This,” Violet said, pointing to the middle of three dark green dots, “is where Phoebe says she parked her car. At the end of the private road that passes Dust's house.” She traced one of the silver lines.

Dust let out a half-sigh.

“This,” she now traced the line connecting the two red dots, “is the only path Kate could have taken. It’s the only one on the west side of the monastery hill. Here along the edge of the forest, the short stretch along the Parker settlement, and then back along the edge of the forest until you reach the path used by the forest workers and where Kate’s car was parked.”

“That means Kate must have passed Phoebe's car,” Jonah stated, and Violet nodded.

“Did she know it?,” I wanted to know.

“According to Phoebe, she gave Kate rides regularly, even before she became her mentor. To the coven grounds, back to town. The Bells confirmed that, at least for the time when Kate was a minor." Violet nodded.

I didn't want to know when she had asked the parents about it, so instead I asked, “Was she still able to recognize Phoebe's car?” I glanced at Violet skeptically and got goose bumps when she started to smile dangerously sweetly.

“No,” Warren replied seriously on her behalf. “According to Doc Stone, she wasn't capable of anything anymore. She never made all that way on her own two feet.”

Dust slowly shook his head. “So Phoebe lied.”

“Or maybe there was someone else there,” Jonah suggested.

“But even then, Phoebe lied,” I said.

“Unless she didn't know there was someone else," Warren interjected.

“Uma?” Violet looked questioningly at Dust, who shrugged.

“I see a lot of questions here. Especially about why.”

“But seriously.” Violet crossed her arms over her chest. “I can imagine Phoebe trying to get Kate to her car, and Madeleine too, to take them somewhere. The coven, the hospital, whatever. But why the cabin?”

Dust shook his head slowly again, but said nothing.

Instead, Jonah asked thoughtfully, “Did Phoebe even know about the cabin?”

“Is it possible that Phoebe and Uma are covering for each other here?” I turned to Violet, who exhaled sharply before saying:

“That's my current thought.” She nodded her chin toward Dust. “Talking to both of them, you could have gotten the impression that Uma was controlling the narrative.”

That phrasing made me make a face.

“I thought Phoebe was pretty convincing yesterday.” Warren grimaced. “She warned Uma, Uma brushed her off. But maybe Uma already knew about the duel from Madeleine. Then she could have either secretly joined in, or Madeleine knew her mentor was watching from the shadows.”

“That implies that Uma got Kate into the cabin while Phoebe was away,” I began, and Dust, shaking his head again, took over:

“Why would she do that? To psychologically mess with Phoebe? If she was there, why didn’t she help Phoebe when she stepped on the rune? Why didn’t she help her own student?”

“Exactly to psychologically fuck Phoebe over,” Jonah said strangely critically. “Or maybe she was hoping to get rid of all three at once.”

“Hide Kate so no one can find and rescue her, okay. But Phoebe? She must have known that injured feet aren’t a death sentence.” Violet shook her head. “And the Monk's Tower is popular enough that Madeleine could have been found on the same day.”

“Doesn't that mean she knew what poison Kate used?” I interjected. “So there was no point in trying to help Madeleine?”

Dust shook his head again. "Guys, don't get carried away. Maybe Phoebe is making up a story. Maybe there was someone else involved. Maybe it was Uma, maybe it was someone else."

“You said it yourself, the coven isn’t what it seems,” Violet retorted harshly, and Dust made a pained face.

“That’s true, but to say out of the blue that Uma wanted all three of them dead—hello?”

I didn't want to get caught up in all these theories anyway, but at least Violet and Warren grimaced, almost as if caught.

Jonah made a strange noise and Dust was about to say something, but at that moment there was a knock and an elderly woman poked her head through the door to announce to Violet that a Mrs. Bridget Parker wanted to speak to her.

Bridget's official statement was pretty much what Dust had already told us in brief on the phone. She added that she herself had been visiting relatives in Ashmill on Monday. Dust nodded, but before another discussion about the same questions could start, I said goodbye. The Bells paid well, but so did other people, and I had work to do.

~The Detective~

It was frustrating, absolutely frustrating.

“Come to think of it...” Dust suddenly began as we were on our way to the interrogation room because Uma had finally arrived, “what did Peter have to say? He lives in the cabin, where was he the whole time?”

“With relatives somewhere near Billings.” I shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Did anyone know that? Or was Kate placed there in the hope that he would come home before it was too late? I don't know.”

He sighed, nodded, and then entered the observation room, where Jonah was still fiddling with the equipment.

The pleasantries were exchanged, the formalities were recorded, and Uma Montoya faced me, relaxed but serious, her fingers loosely intertwined on the table.

“Did Madeleine ever mention a possible duel to you?”

“She did.” Uma nodded in agreement. “I told her to make the challenge official, in front of witnesses, and to name seconds directly. However, that was at the beginning of the year.”

“Why did you dismiss Phoebe's statement as nonsense?”

"Because I consider Kate to be arrogant but reasonable, and Madeleine to be arrogant but not that stupid or reckless. A normal duel? Sure. An illegal one?“ She shook her head weakly. ”I guess I was wrong."

“Would you have thought it possible that Phoebe might assist in an illegal duel?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “The way you put it, Detective, it sounds like you’re saying Phoebe did it.”

“She did.” I nodded, and she shook her head with a snort.

“That woman...”

I glanced at Warren, who cleared his throat.

“Mrs. Montoya, according to Phoebe, you downplayed her foot injury—”

“That’s nonsense.” Uma clicked her tongue. “I told her to go to the doctor. Or rather, to have someone take her to the doctor. We had an important meeting of the White Witches, otherwise I would have done it myself. But when that was over, Phoebe was still there, asleep. You can't force adults to be happy, and in my opinion, Phoebe likes to complain, so I left it at that.”

My phone pinged, and I looked at the message from Jonah before asking, “How did you spend Monday as such?"

Indignation flashed briefly across her face. “I had a late, long breakfast with my husband, and then we took our Easter Monday walk in the woods.”

“Where and when exactly?”

She rolled her eyes. “South of Warner’s Hill. Sometime between eleven and twelve, probably longer. We used to have lunch at the military pub because we have some military personnel in the family, but now it’s just the walk.”

The place and time matched reasonably well, including the hit from the Warner’s Hill street surveillance. However, my phone pinged again, this time from Dust.

“Mrs. Montoya, your husband uses a wheelchair. Did you really push him through the woods?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked indignant again. “We make video calls so he can be there. For me, he is there.”

I didn't believe her, but I nodded. Something was fishy here, but we had to find the smelly one first.

“Do you want to see my phone?”

Again, I nodded. I took her phone in its bright green case and took a photo of the call details; the call had been interrupted several times, but that was to be expected in a Montana forest. Still, it proved nothing.

“I've been thinking about the poison, Detective,” Uma said as I handed her back her phone.

“Yes?” My phone buzzed; Jonah had apparently found something. I put the thought off until later.

She nodded. "I've gone through all the books with some others, and the ones openly available are clean. The books that can only be issued by the White Witches are still being reviewed. If those are clean, there's always the internet."

“From everything we've heard, I wouldn't consider Kate desperate or nefarious enough to simply brew a forbidden poison,” Warren interjected skeptically.

“No,” Uma agreed, tilting her head, “but that's what I was about to get to.”

I gave her an encouraging nod.

“We have a shelf with old bottles and vials in an adjoining building. Even when I was a novice, the labels were illegible or had fallen off, but my mentor said it was a collection of poisons. It looks like an aesthetic detail, but covens aren't exactly known for aesthetics, so these are definitely not just colorful waters.” Uma's smile seemed tense. “The shelf gets dusted, but otherwise no one pays any attention to it. If someone had taken a bottle and rearranged the rest a little, no one would probably notice.”

Part of me wanted to shake my head in indignation, but on the other hand, I was slowly beginning to understand that witches seemed to think differently. “That raises several questions, Mrs. Montoya. First, are these poisons even still effective? Second, how likely is it that Kate would reach for one and pick witch blood of all things? And third, why was there a vial of forbidden poison there in the first place?”

Warren made a soft sound of agreement.

“Detective, if there really is or was a vial of witch blood there, then it's the fault of the Walburga, who led the coven at the time of the ban. Or the fault of the White Witches back then. I'm a little older than you, and even my mentor had no idea what the collection contained.” Again, Uma showed signs of indignation.

“That's—”

“Otherwise, many poisons have a surprisingly long shelf life if they have been correctly brewed and bottled. Especially those intended to be applied to blades or similar objects. As far as I know, witch blood was designed for this purpose.”

“Nevertheless,” Warren began again, a deep frown now creasing his brow. “I mean, the explanation sounds good. But still. A witch with alchemical talents doesn't just dip her fingernails in an unknown poison.”

Uma shrugged exaggeratedly. “Maybe someone gave Kate a vial and told her a nice story. I don't know, Officer. These are just my thoughts.”

There was a pause.

I had already considered to what extent we should tell Uma Phoebe's story, but I still hadn't made a final decision. Instead, I pulled out the file we had brought with us and slid the satellite image toward her. Before she could ask, I explained the markings to her, and she nodded thoughtfully.

“May I ask where and how exactly you found Kate?” she finally asked, tapping her fingernail on the corresponding red dot.

“In a hut that was...”

“Ah.”

I blinked in surprise. “Ah?”

With a strange smile, she pushed the image away from her. “That makes sense, you know.”

“How?”

“Phoebe and Peter are—or were, I don't know the details—involved. My husband and Peter know each other, and Bridget once let something slip, but...” She raised her hands apologetically.

“I'm not sure how that makes sense, ma'am,” Warren said slowly while I was still thinking. “Are you saying Phoebe wanted to hide Kate there? Or pin it on Peter?”

Uma shrugged. “I don't know. But it's a pretty specific place to find her, don't you think?”

“Well, you also know about the cabin and who lives there,” I remarked neutrally, and she laughed softly, which surprised me.

“True. But a lot of people here know Peter. Most don't like him, but that's another matter.”

As she finished speaking, my phone vibrated with a call from Jonah. Frowning, I silenced it and nodded to Warren. “I apologize, Mrs. Montoya, but I have to take care of this. We're taking a break. Please let me know if you'd like coffee or water or anything.”

“No, thank you.” She smiled politely.

“What's going on?” Warren asked in the hallway, but I could only shake my head.

“We'll see.” What I saw next surprised me, though: Jonah was triumphant, Dust looked shocked. “What did you find?” I asked, referring to the previously ignored message, and Jonah grinned even wider.

“Well, technically, I didn't find anything. But the forest ranger you contacted...”

“Namely?”

Jonah opened a picture. It was black and white and far from HD, but detailed enough to recognize Kate floating through the air somewhere in the forest.

“What is that?” Warren asked quietly. “Some kind of dashcam?”

“A wildlife camera,” Dust replied dully.

“Exactly. According to the forest ranger, it’s pointed at a pond and a wildlife trail. Based on the coordinates provided, maybe fifty meters from the gate that leads to the property next to the cabin.”

Stunned, my eyebrows shot up. And then I let out an appropriate sound when Jonah opened another picture showing Uma very obviously levitating Kate.

“Holy shit!” Warren exclaimed.

“The ranger heard the charming Peter in a pub, drunk, talking about the corpse on his couch,” Jonah reported with his typical inappropriate cheerfulness. “That’s why he checked the footage from this wildlife camera, just in case.”

“And he found something,” Warren muttered tonelessly.

“I need that printed out.” I hadn't even finished speaking when Jonah handed me the pictures. I took them, but couldn't take my eyes off the screen. “Uma definitely wanted to avoid Phoebe discovering her by chance.”

Dust made a soft sound, but since he didn't say anything else, I didn't address him; he seemed a little lost.

Instead, I nudged Warren. “Let's show this to Uma.”

“Mrs. Montoya.” Without further ado, Warren turned the recorder back on.

“How much longer will this take, Detective?” Uma wanted to know. “I have things to do.” She frowned critically, although we've been gone maybe ten minutes in total.

“Oh, that depends entirely on what you have to say about this.” I placed the two printouts in front of her and watched her expression change from confused to annoyed and then emphatically blank.

“I want to speak to a lawyer.”

“That's your absolute right.”

~

Three hours later, we were sitting in my and Harry's office; his absence was downright painful.

Uma's lawyer had explained that his client wanted to exercise her right to remain silent and would not answer any questions. I had tried for an hour anyway, but now I'd had enough.

Jonah had organized coffee and cupcakes to replace our lunch, and our chewing was accompanied by the rain splashing against the windows once again.

“Do you think Uma will ever open her mouth?” Warren broke the relative silence, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dust flinch.

“Hard to say,” I began slowly, reaching for a napkin to wipe frosting from my fingers. “Some people take their secrets to the grave, others wear down.”

“Uma is stubborn,” Dust said quietly to Warren. “I never thought she was capable of something like that,” he added, staring into his to-go cup.

“Well, you know Bridget much better than her, and yet her behavior surprised you,” Jonah remarked a little nonchalantly, and Dust sighed.

“That’s true.”

“People can react in unbelievable ways when they want to protect something,” Warren interjected.

Dust’s face said he was aware of that.

“You know,” I said, because no one else was talking, “based on Jonah’s background check on Uma, I think she’s depressed or burned out. My unprofessional opinion, really.”

“But?” Dust looked at me skeptically.

“No buts.” I shook my head weakly. “Just what I've seen and heard and read tells me she's under enormous pressure. I can well imagine that the moment Kate and Madeleine's argument escalated to the point where they had to be removed from the premises, something snapped in her.”

“So much so that she's willing to accept deaths?” Jonah's eyebrows rose critically, but then dipped back down almost comically when he realized a second later that his coffee was gone.

“She probably just didn't care at that moment.”

“At that moment? It took more than just a few moments,” Warren interjected. “I can't imagine her stopping by spontaneously during her walk either.”

“That she planned all this, I can't imagine,” Dust spoke up again, almost a little defensively, and I sighed.

“The likelihood that she showed Kate the poisons in a kind of ‘among us alchemists’ way and maybe dropped some lies is quite high in my opinion. Maybe she even deliberately taught Madeleine such dangerous runes. Maybe she hoped that Kate and Madeleine would take each other out."

“What about Phoebe? Collateral damage?” Jonah wanted to know, and I shrugged.

“Quite possible. I can imagine that Uma would have silenced her under different circumstances.”

Dust put his coffee down on my desk so hard that some of it spilled over the edge. “Seriously?” Disappointed, frustrated, and resigned, he glared at me, and I shrugged again.

“As long as she doesn’t say anything... I mean, we agree that these images exist. We agree that Phoebe didn't create the bell and the thread of life. As a precaution on Kate's part, that also seems unreasonable to me."

“But why would Uma do that? Why would she let her own novice die in the first place?” He spoke a little louder than necessary.

“I don't know, Dust,” I replied, very emphatically and probably a little too loud as well. “Maybe she didn't realize what kind of poison Kate used and she believed the tower was popular enough that Madeleine would be found in time.”

“But then why take Kate away?” Warren interjected, almost shyly.

With a hard exhale, I fell back in my chair and threw the napkin I had unconsciously crumpled up onto the table. “I don't know. Guys, I don't know. We have facts, we have assumptions, we have stories that don't fit, and we have a silent figure. Okay? I don't know.” I met the eyes of the other three.

While Jonah seemed to accept this and even gave me a tiny nod, Warren seemed uncertain and frustrated. Dust, on the other hand, shook his head again.

“Not all cases are solved one hundred percent, you know that as well as I do.”

He nodded briefly and stood up. “I'll take care of my part of the paperwork,” he said, then left the office.

Suppressing a sigh, I watched him go and then stared a long second at the closed door.

Last night, I had thought we had somehow solved the case, but as it stood, it was unlikely we would be able to resolve some of the glaring red question marks anytime soon. Perhaps never.

But that was just reality.