The snake was thrashing about inside the catcher and had knocked the device over, causing it to roll under the kitchen table. Booker scooped it up and turned a knob on the side to extinguish the flame within.

"Stupid animal nearly set itself on fire," he said, sitting on the floor as he peeked inside the catcher.

Trinket crouched down beside him. "What are you going to do with it now?"

"Put it back in the jar?"

"With the lid nailed down, I hope."

Letting out a long sigh, he smiled over at her. "I'm sorry for all this trouble."

She shrugged. "Occupational hazard."

He continued to gaze at her and then lifted his hand to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I think it's finally safe for you to get some rest."

His hand remained on her cheek, and it took everything for her not to sink further into his touch. "And you, Mr. Larkin? You're not indefatigable, you know."

Chuckling softly, he let his hand fall away. "You are very right. Come, let's both retire to bed."

She rose to her feet and held her hand out to him. He accepted it and pulled himself up. With the snake catcher in one hand and his free arm around her shoulders, he led her back to the hallway.

"Should we wake up Daphne?" Trinket asked.

They peered into the parlour where Daphne was still sleeping soundly in the armchair. "She seems rather comfortable where she is. Maybe toss another blanket on her and light the fire?" Booker said.

"I'll go fetch one now."

He pulled her back before she could go far. "I'll do it."

"It's really not—"

"Go sleep. You've done more than enough tonight. You deserve to rest."

Giving him a soft smile, she nodded. "Very well. Thank you."

"No, thank you."

He bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. It was a simple gesture, quick and without any warning or fanfare. But it completely threw her. She stared up at him stupidly as he smiled and gave a short nod before bringing the snake down into the laboratory.

Too stunned to fully comprehend what had just happened, she made her way up the stairs in a daze. When she reached her room, she fell face-first onto her bed. It didn't take long for sleep to claim her, but she did have enough time to replay that kiss.

And it set her entire body aflame.

~

Trinket awoke from a deep sleep with a groan. The sun was shining through the windows. She shielded her eyes against its glare with her pillow. Her body ached, and she was covered in mud and filth. She had been too tired to change into her nightgown and was still wearing her dress from the night before. In fact, she hadn't even had the strength to crawl under the covers, but had instead fallen asleep on top of them.

Letting out another long groan, she tossed the pillow aside and braced herself for movement. Her joints cracked as she lifted herself into an upright position and eased her legs over the side of the bed. As she rubbed the sleep from her tired eyes, she caught a glimpse of someone sitting beside her. She turned to see what new annoyance her mind had created and gasped.

Tory.

The blonde girl flashed her a manic smile. "Seems we lost each other yesterday, eh?"

Trinket's eyes darted about the room, trying to figure out how the girl had gotten inside. But when her attention returned to Tory, she was gone. There was nothing but empty space where she had been only seconds ago.

Placing a hand over her chest, Trinket tried to quiet her racing heart. Seeing even an imaginary likeness of her old friend reminded her of everything she still had to sort out. The vampire wasn't the only mystery to worry about now that her dark past was threatening to infiltrate the life she had started to make here in Tinkerfall.

Once she was finally able to calm her nerves, she stood up and made her way out the door and down the stairs. Booker was in the parlour, sipping tea as he thumbed through a notebook. When she entered the room, he glanced up and offered her a warm smile.

"Ah, awake at last. I hope you are well-rested after our adventures yesterday," he said.

She peered at the clock. It was already noon. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?" she asked, taking a seat beside him on the settee and accepting the cup of tea he handed her.

"I thought you might need the extra rest after everything. How's your head, by the way?"

"Still sore, but the sharp pain seems to have faded."

"Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing to her wound.

Placing the tea on the table, she turned so that he could examine the cut. His fingers combed through her hair, bringing back memories from the night before. His gentle touch, his concerned gaze. And that kiss. Her cheeks heated up at the thought of his lips pressed against her skin, and she couldn't help but wonder what sort of effect his lips would've had if they had only moved a few inches over and brushed against her own.

She banished such thoughts and tried to focus on her hands as he continued to look over her injury. "Seems to be doing fine," he said. "Though you have a lot of dried blood in your hair."

"I should probably wash it today," she said, sitting back once he had finished his examination. "And scrub this grime off of my arms and face."

"If it's any consolation, you're still quite fetching, even with the grime and blood."

Turning away to hide any potential blush, she picked up her cup to occupy her fidgety hands. "How are you so chipper this morning?" she asked, sipping at her tea. "I hope you got some sleep after last night."

"Oh, yes, I did. I just was up early to tend to some matters."

Daphne entered from the dining room with a mop in her hand. When she saw Trinket, she smiled and waved.

"Daphne, you should have gotten me up to help," Trinket said, again returning her cup to the table and getting to her feet.

Dismissing her offer, Daphne motioned for her to sit back down. Though she wanted to object, Trinket's aching muscles insisted that she comply. She returned to the settee and watched as Daphne started mopping up a puddle of water where one of the ice blocks had been.

"I tried to get her to sleep longer, too, but the moment she heard me in the kitchen, there was no keeping her down," Booker said. "I guess she's become privy to my lack of culinary skills."

Daphne nodded emphatically.

"Where were you off to this morning, anyhow?" Trinket asked him.

"I went to finish up with the autopsy to see if I could find any new clues."

"And did you?"

He shook his head. "Nothing different from the old man except the location of the bite. Everything else was identical. Same inflammation, same bleeding orifices."

"All from the snake's venom."

"Indeed."

"Speaking of which, have you securely caged the tree hopper?"

Daphne leaned against the mop and raised her eyebrows as she turned to Booker.

He took a sip of tea. "No need. I euthanized it last night."

Trinket startled. "Euthanized?"

"Don't worry, it was very humane. I just overdosed it on ether."

"But why? Didn't you want to study it?"

He placed his teacup and saucer on the table and leaned back on the settee. "Yes, but not at the risk of losing those I care about. This little incident made it clear that a deadly snake has no place in a house."

Trinket and Daphne exchanged surprised looks. "So what's next, then?" Trinket asked, turning back to Booker.

"I think our next move should be to find that young woman you followed. The one who lives in the same building as the first victim."

"Shall we head out, then?"

"There's plenty of time. Clean yourself up. Eat. Rest. It's still rather damp out, so it'd be best to wait a bit before setting off on a new investigation. Besides, I think I might enjoy some time at home in the company of you two lovely ladies."

Daphne rolled her eyes, but Trinket couldn't keep her heart from fluttering as Booker gave her a sweet, gentle smile. "Well, this lovely lady does not feel so lovely," she said as she rose from the settee. "I'm off to the washroom. Daphne, please don't do all the housework without me. I need to feel like I'm doing my job."

Waving her away, Daphne dragged the mop back into the dining room. Trinket shook her head and made her way to the stairs, looking forward to a warm bath and a few quiet moments to gather her thoughts.

~

When she returned downstairs after a thorough washing and a painful attempt to detangle her hair, Trinket found Booker in the parlour with a young woman. He was sitting in the armchair, fingers steepled and resting against his lips as he listened to her talk.

"I'd never seen her before," said the young woman perched on the settee, her back turned to Trinket as she spoke to Booker. "But I'll never forget her."

Booker's eyes darted to Trinket as she approached the doorway. "Ah, perfect timing. Fidelia here has come to offer any information she has about our friend the vampire."

Fidelia glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

"The vampire?" Trinket repeated, making her way into the parlour.

The girl nodded. "Hester was a good person."

"The young girl we tried to help," Booker explained to Trinket as she positioned herself by his chair. "She worked with Fidelia at the general store."

"She didn't deserve to die when all she was doing was her job," Fidelia continued. "I want to see this vampire or whatever she is hanged for her crimes."

A cold pit settled in Trinket's stomach. If Tory really was the vampire, she was in a heap of trouble. Of course, if she was indeed the one killing these people, didn't she deserve it? Her condition didn't exempt her from punishment, just like Trinket's did not excuse her own sins, no matter what Booker said. Still, she couldn't keep herself from wanting to find some loophole to help her friend.

"To be fair," Booker said, "if this killer is, in fact, a genuine vampire, I highly doubt hanging her will do much good. You know, what with that pesky immortality factor coming into play."

"Then take a stake to her heart," Fidelia spat. "Put a silver bullet in her brain. Choke her with garlic. Whatever needs to be done, bring this beast to justice."

Booker drew back at the normally mousy girl's passionate declaration. "My, Hester must have been some friend."

Fidelia shrank in on herself and turned her eyes downward. "Yes, she was. She and Ruth are the only ones who know about my arm, and they've been discreet and supportive. And to see one of my dear friends come to such a gruesome end breaks my heart. Can you blame me for wanting justice?"

Shaking his head slowly, Booker replied, "No, I cannot. Anyhow, I thank you for what information you've given us. It will surely be useful in our investigation."

"Fidelia, why did you not go to the police concerning this matter?" Trinket asked.

"The police can handle robberies and murders," Fidelia said. "But legendary creatures and folks bleeding to death from strange bites? I think they could handle that as well as they handled that wolf."

Booker's lips twitched. "Your vote of confidence in us is certainly humbling."

"I trust that you and Miss Trinket are more than well-equipped to solve this mystery."

"We'll do our very best."

"Your best is not enough. If you don't find this monster soon, someone more sinister may beat you to the punch."

Raising his eyebrows, Booker asked, "And to whom would you be referring?"

Fidelia pursed her lips and clutched her skirts. "I think you know exactly who I'm referring to. And I'm terrified of what will happen if they get their hands on this creature."

Trinket bit her lip as Booker's shoulders tensed. "Yes, well, as usual, my intelligence and cleverness surpass theirs," he replied. "So I don't think we have much to worry about. Besides, I've already got a head start in the case."

Smiling, Fidelia nodded. "I trust you, Mr. Larkin. I know that you'll bring Hester's killer to justice."

Trinket and Booker saw the girl out, and as they watched her wander back towards the city center, Trinket glanced up at Booker. His jaw was set and his gaze distant. "So what do you have on this case that the Mice don't?" she asked. "Other than a dead snake."

A muscle in his cheek twitched. "Like I said, intelligence and cleverness." He turned to her, determination in his eyes. "The Mice have no idea who they're up against. They're soon to find out I am not one to be trifled with."

He went back into the house, and she followed after him. "Booker, what are you going to do?"

Grabbing his top hat and walking stick, he passed her her shawl. "I'm going to win this game and prove to Scales once and for all that he is no match for me. Maybe then he'll learn to stop sticking his nose in my business."

She threw the shawl over her shoulders and took his arm. While normally she felt safe by his side, something about his eyes made her worry that he was about to lead them into a situation far more dangerous than a loose snake.