Tristan asked. Belle paused to sample her soup and take a bite of a crusty French loaf. “My money’s on the stepfather, that Gerald Drake character. Joelle certainly seemed afraid of him.” So much so she’d turned into a werewolf in the middle of Joan Devon’s tea party and threatened to attack Belle and Tristan if they tried to help Miranda leave. “Wonder what happened to him.” “He’s probably dead and magically disposed of. If he killed the mother, could be Miranda killed him.” “Then she burned the house down and took off?” He took another slow sip, trying to make the glass last. Belle shrugged. “All the magic I detected on the scene had the same signature as the spell book.” She poured herself a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon that was almost the same shade of red as her blood. An unpleasant possibility occurred to Tristan. “Could Miranda have killed her mother, too?” Belle slowly buttered a piece of bread while she thought about it. “I doubt it. She seemed to really care about Joelle.
