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DEADLY CORSAGE
JENNA ST. JAMES
 Deadly Corsage

Jenna St. James

Copyright © 2022 by Jenna St. James.

Published by Jenna St. James

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced without the written
permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are either the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Created with Vellum

 CON T E N TS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24

About the Author

 1

“I can’t wait to see the wedding flowers you’ve picked for me,
Serena,” Zoie said as the three of us hurried along the
sidewalk toward Forever Flowers.
“I actually had Iris narrow it down to three different corsages,”
Serena said. “I was going to let you pick which one you wanted to
wear on your wrist and in your hair.”
Zoie squealed. “I can’t believe you’re getting married in two
months.”
“Me neither,” I said.
“Does this mean I have to wear a tux?” Needles grumbled from
his perch on my shoulder. “I mean, I look dashing in one, but the
bowtie drives me crazy after a while.”
Zoie laughed. “Needles wants to know if he has to wear a tux?”
Serena smiled. “Only if he wants to.”
Needles, my flying and talking porcupine bodyguard, snorted. “I
just hope Sylvia doesn’t see me in it. Can you imagine? A skunk
wanting to mate with a porcupine?”
I felt his little body shudder, and it was all I could do not to laugh
out loud.
“I mean, I’ve been turning her down for over a hundred years
now,” Needles continued. “Enough is enough, Skunk. Find another
animal to snuggle up against at night.”
 Zoie and I gave each other the side-eye. I had no idea if this
story was true or just a figment of Needles’ imagination.
“Thankfully since you’ve been back, Princess,” Needles said, “and
I’ve been assigned as your bodyguard again, she’s calmed down a
little.” He patted his paw against his chest. “She knows my loyalty is
to Black Forest King and protecting you, Princess.”
I didn’t point out I was perfectly capable of protecting myself—it
was a useless argument.
“I’ve always wanted a Christmas wedding,” Serena said, oblivious
to the one-sided conversation Needles was having.
My cousin had been dating the detective werewolf shifter, Grant
Wolfe, for a year now. Serena, who owned a bakery with her best
friend, Tamara, was also a part-time deputy when we needed one. I
was the island’s game warden, but I also worked alongside the
sheriff, Alex Stone. My duties as the game warden kept me busy, but
I always had time for catching bad guys. I’d recently retired from the
Paranormal Apprehension and Detention Agency and missed the
work.
“Speaking of weddings and your groom,” I said, “when does
Grant get back from his conference?”
“His last session is around seven tonight,” Serena said. “That
means he’ll finish around eight. But instead of rushing to get to the
supernatural hanger on a Sunday night and flying straight out
without dinner or relaxing, he’s decided to come home tomorrow
mid-morning with Lucas.”
Enchanted Island’s panther shifter pilot, Lucas Black, pretty much
did all the flights to and from the island.
“I’m excited about the Samhain festival on Saturday,” Zoie said.
“I’ve heard the kids at school talking about it, and it sounds like it’s
going to be awesome.”
I groaned. “Mom and GiGi both have tried to rope me into
helping pass out hot apple cider at the festival.”
“What did you tell them?” Serena asked.
I laughed. “That I was on duty to help Alex patrol the park.”
“I volunteered to do face painting,” Zoie said. “I’ve been
practicing with my wand so I can use magic to paint faces.”
 “How about after this,” I said, “we have dinner at the Enchanted
Island Café?”
Zoie’s face lit up. “Can I text Dad and Brick and see if they want
to come?”
“Don’t see why not,” I said.
Zoie and Brick had been dating for a few months now, and things
seemed to be going well. That is, once Zoie got over the fear of
Brick seeing her in gargoyle form. Zoie was not only a witch, but a
gargoyle shifter. Only she hadn’t known about the shifting until her
sixteenth birthday.
“Merry meet, dear friends.” Iris Woods stepped out of her vehicle
and hurried over to where we stood in front of her flower shop.
“Thank you for meeting with us today,” Serena said. “I appreciate
you opening the shop for us after hours.”
Iris waved her hand dismissively in the air. “Think nothing of it.
Most Sundays I just come in to make sure everything looks good for
the coming week.” She frowned. “Although, I’m surprised to see
lights on inside. I gave my assistant, Claudia Bloodman, the day off.”
Iris reached out and held open the door to Forever Flowers for
us.
I stepped inside and inhaled deeply. There was nothing like the
smell and emotional feel of flowers. I frowned when a ping went
straight to my heart. Usually, the flowers inside Iris’ shop were
happy and joyful…today some of them were sad and weeping.
“What’s wrong, Shayla?” Serena asked. “You look confused.”
One of the gifts I’d inherited from my dad, Black Forest King, was
the ability to communicate with plants and animals. Sometimes it
was just to experience their feelings, and other times it was to
actually speak to them.
“The flowers feel sad today,” I said.
“I feel it too, Princess,” Needles said.
“Listen,” Zoie whispered.
From the back room, we could hear soft weeping.
“Claudia?” Iris called out. “Is that you? Are you okay?”
A few seconds later, the curtain opened and a beautiful, dark-
haired woman in her mid-twenties walked out. Her brown eyes were
red and puffy, and her face was swollen and blotchy.
She lifted a tissue to her nose and sniffed. “I’m sorry, Iris.” She
brushed back a tear. “I forgot you were coming back this evening to
look at flowers.”
Irish rushed over to the girl and hugged her. “What’re you doing
here, Claudia?”
Claudia glanced over at us, then let her eyes drift down.
“It’s okay,” Iris coaxed. “These girls are friends.”
Claudia nodded. “How about I bring out the corsages while we
talk? Give me a few moments to gather myself.”
“That might be best,” I said gently. “The flowers are feeding off
you.”
Claudia’s eyes widened. “What?”
I smiled. “One of my supernatural gifts is I can feel the emotions
of plants. They are sad…just like you.”
“Oh,” Claudia straightened. “I never want that.” She wiped her
face. “Wait here, and I’ll be right back.”
As she turned, she began to sing, and the flowers instantly
reacted to her voice. Instead of sorrow, I now felt joy. A few seconds
later, Claudia hurried back into the front of the store. Setting down
the corsages on the counter, she smiled and gestured to the bundle.
Zoie clapped her hands and hurried over to the three different
corsages. She ran her hands lovingly over the stems. “They’re all so
beautiful. I don’t know which one to choose.”
“Your dress is red,” I reminded her.
“I’ve never seen roses like these,” Zoie said.
Iris smiled. “There’s a bit of magic infused in each one.”
One rose had electric blue and pink petals, while another had
dark purple and baby blue, and the last had a rainbow look of pink,
orange, yellow, green, and teal.
“I think I just went blind,” Needles said. “Those are some crazy
colors.”
Iris picked up the rainbow corsage. “Serena told me she wanted
you to have something unique, Zoie.”
“I did,” Serena agreed.
 “Then I choose that one,” Zoie said. “What’s more unique than a
rainbow rose?”
“Good choice,” Iris said. “I’ll have a wrist and hair corsage made
for you.” She set the flower down. “Now that that’s taken care of.
Claudia, why don’t you tell us what happened?”
Claudia nodded. “I went out to—to the Nightwalker Estate like
you said I should.”
“And?” Iris prompted.
“And they didn’t want me!” Claudia wailed as she wiped away
more tears. “They told me to leave immediately.”
Iris gasped. “Who did? What are you talking about?”
 2

“W hat’s going on?” I asked. “And are you talking about Ralph
Nightwalker who owns the fish factory up on the
northwest part of the island?”
“That’s him,” Iris said bitterly. “I don’t know what exactly
happened, but he’s going to get a little delivery of poison ivy if he
hurt your feelings, Claudia.”
I grinned. Leave it to Iris.
“What’s happened?” Serena asked.
Claudia pulled away from Iris. “I should start at the beginning.
That is, if you all have time.”
Zoie, Serena, Needles, and I all spoke at the same time.
“We have time.”
“Always time for a story.”
“We have nowhere to be.”
“I wish I’d brought popcorn.”
Claudia gave a watery laugh. “Okay, then. When I was just a
baby, I was left in a supernatural orphanage on the mainland. When
I was two, a lovely vampire couple adopted me, and I grew up in
Maine. I had a wonderful upbringing. They were kind and loving
parents. I always called them Mom and Dad. Unfortunately, they
passed away about five years ago. They always talked about
Enchanted Island, and one summer we even visited here when I was
like ten.”
 “Were they from here then?” I asked.
Claudia shook her head. “I don’t think so. I never knew my dad’s
family—they died shortly after he married my mom. But my mom’s
parents lived in New Orleans, so I got to know them. I think they
just knew of Enchanted Island the way most supernaturals do.”
“I’ve always wanted to visit New Orleans,” Zoie said. “I bet it’s
spooky.”
I snorted. “You’re a witch and a gargoyle shifter. Most people
would think that was spooky enough.”
Zoie grinned. “You’re probably right.”
Claudia leaned back against the counter. “So anyway, when my
aunt died last year—my mom’s sister—I had no immediate family in
Maine anymore, and no real strings tying me there.” She shrugged.
“So I moved here about six months ago.”
“And I’m so glad you did,” Iris said. “You’ve been such a help
here.”
“Thank you,” Claudia said. “About a month ago, I did one of
those supernatural ancestry things. Well, last week, I got an email
stating I had a hit in their databank.”
I gasped. “That’s amazing.”
Claudia grimaced. “I thought so too. I contacted the phone
number they gave me, and I spoke to Peony Nightwalker. You can’t
believe how shocked I was to learn she lived on Enchanted Island!
Evidently, she’d decided to do one of those supernatural ancestry
things too a few weeks ago. We had no idea how I was related to
the family, so she invited me out to her house to speak to her
parents.”
“And what did you find out?” I asked.
Claudia blew out a breath. “I went up to the Nightwalker Estate
around three today, to meet the family for the first time. I found out
that Mona Nightwalker was my biological mother.”
We all gasped.
“Yeah, it was absolutely crazy when Peony and I explained how
we came to meet. Mona cried. Mr. Nightwalker shouted. Even Peony
looked upset.”
 Needles popped up in the air, reached behind him, plucked out
two quills from his back, and brandished them in each paw, slicing
the air. “I outta cut out their tongues and their hearts.”
“That’s a little drastic, Needles,” I said.
Claudia cocked her head and frowned. “Can you hear him?”
I snorted. “Yep. Zoie and I both can. It’s a curse.”
Zoie laughed. “It is not.”
“Anyway,” Claudia said, “by their reactions—especially from Mona
—I won’t be invited to too many Sunday dinners.”
“I’m sorry,” Zoie whispered. “I know what it’s like when your
mom turns her back on you.”
I wrapped my arms around Zoie and kissed her temple. “We love
you.”
Needles flew from my shoulder and landed on Zoie’s. “We most
certainly do, young Zoie. In fact, I’d gut anyone who tried to hurt
you.”
Zoie smiled. “I know. Thank you, Needles.”
“At first, I think Mona wanted to ask me questions and get to
know me,” Claudia said, “but Mr. Nightwalker wasn’t having it. He
ordered me out of the house.”
Iris hugged her. “I’m so sorry, Claudia. I had no idea they would
react that way. What horrible people.”
“The son, Perry, definitely felt the same way as his father,”
Claudia said. “He met me at the front door, opened it, and told me
not to come back.”
Serena frowned. “Is Mr. Nightwalker your biological father?”
Claudia shook her head. “No. At least, that’s what I understood
amid all the yelling and fighting and crying. Peony had mentioned to
me during one of our earlier conversations that her dad was nearly
ten years older than her mom.” She shrugged. “I still don’t know
who my biological father is. I didn’t get the chance to ask Mrs.
Nightwalker.” Claudia smiled. “Peony walked me out to my car and
told me not to worry, that they’ll eventually come around. But for
now, I better just stay away for a while.”
I frowned. “They’re twins, right? Perry and Peony Nightwalker?”
 “Yes.” Claudia shook her head. “I just want to forget this day
ever happened.”
Iris sighed. “I can’t believe Mona turned you away.”
Claudia let out a small bark of laughter. “I think her reaction was
the most hurtful. She didn’t demand I leave. Instead, she begged
me not to tell anyone. Like she was ashamed or afraid.”
“What will you do now?” Zoie asked.
Claudia shrugged. “Not much more I can do, really. They’ve
made it perfectly clear they want nothing to do with me.” She wiped
the tears off her cheeks. “And that’s just fine with me. I went nearly
twenty-six years without knowing who my biological parents were. I
should’ve left it at that. One thing this experience has taught me, I
will not be looking for my biological father. Seeing Mona’s reaction to
me was hard enough. I’m done.”
Once again, sorrow flooded my body. “You have quite a
connection to flowers, Claudia. I usually get that emotional and
physical reaction with witches and fairies, like Iris. It’s unusual for a
vampire to have that same effect on flowers, but you do.”
Claudia smiled. “I’ve always had a thing for nature. It’s those
kind of questions that make me wonder if I got it from my biological
mother or father. I guess now I’ll never know.”
“Maybe it’s better this way,” Iris said gently. “Now you don’t have
to live your life wondering. You know. Now you can move on. You
don’t need them. Especially if they’re going to be hateful to you.”
The front door opened, and Perry and Peony Nightwalker strode
through the front door. A scared, resigned look on Peony’s face…and
a scowl on Perry’s face.
“We need to talk,” Perry growled.
 3

“I have nothing more to say to you,” Claudia Bloodman said.

“That’s right,” Iris said, pointing to the door. “We’re closed.
You need to leave.”
“Not until we get some things straight,” Perry snarled. “Your little
stunt tonight has upset everyone in my family. I won’t let it happen
again.”
“You want me to cut out his tongue, Princess?” Needles asked as
he lifted from my shoulder, his wings glowing bright red.
“You need to calm down, Perry,” I said. “Then you need to turn
around and leave as Iris has asked.”
Perry ran his eyes over me…snorted…then dismissed me with a
flick of his gaze before turning back to Claudia. “I don’t know who
you think you are, or what game you’re playing, but I can guarantee
you, you won’t get a cent from us.”
“That’s not what I want!” Claudia cried.
“Of course it is,” Perry said coldly. “It’s always about money when
dealing with those who have none.”
“Okay,” Serena said. “I’ve heard enough. Perry Nightwalker, you
should be ashamed of yourself. You’re being a bully.”
Perry scowled. “I won’t let her come to this island and throw
around accusations regarding our family. Our Mother.”
“Tell Serena she has permission to throw a fireball at him,”
Needles demanded as he fluttered around Perry’s head. “Vampires
hate fire.”
Zoie snorted. “I think every supernatural hates fire, Needles.”
“Who’re you talking to?” Peony asked, her eyes never leaving
Needles. “What is that? I’ve never seen a flying porcupine before.”
“He also talks.” I crossed my arms over my chest and did
something I hated—used my dad as leverage. “His name is Needles,
and my dad gave him to me. Maybe you’ve heard of him? Black
Forest King?”
Peony gasped, and even Perry paled and backed up a step.
Needles, wings still blood red, flew to within an inch of Perry’s
face. “And I’ll spill your guts right here on the floor, Vampire.”
The snarl on Needles’ mouth must have conveyed Needles’ anger
because Perry held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little angry.
None of you has any idea how distraught Mother is right now.”
“She has taken this pretty hard,” Peony said. “I should have
thought this through more before inviting you out to our place,
Claudia. I had no idea that—well, I just had no idea. Mother is
mortified someone will find out.”
“She’s embarrassed by me?” Claudia asked softly.
“No,” Peony said. “I don’t think that’s it. It’s more I think she’s
ashamed and afraid of what people will say.”
Claudia snorted. “You mean what people will say when they find
out Mona Nightwalker just left her daughter at a supernatural
orphanage on the mainland?” Claudia’s tone was filled with
bitterness. “Yeah, that’s not really my biggest concern.”
Peony laid a hand on Claudia’s arm. “It’s not like that. She was
devastated when Father made you leave. She just…” Her voice
trailed off. “Mother has a hard time standing up for herself
sometimes.”
“That’s enough, Peony,” Perry said. “It’s not anyone’s business
what goes on between Mother and Father.”
Peony looked over at the counter, her eyes going wide. “Those
are beautiful.” She strolled over to where the three corsages sat and
ran her hand lightly over the flowers. “Mother loves flowers. You
should see her gardens in the summer—they’re absolutely
breathtaking. She can grow any flower…any color. Right now she’s
getting her greenhouse ready for what she’ll grow in the winter.” She
turned to Claudia. “You guys have that in common.” Peony looked
down at the floor, then back up at Claudia. “I know Father said some
harsh things to you, but I don’t think he really meant them. They
just need time.”
“We all need time,” Perry said, scowling at Peony. “I still don’t
understand what led you to do a stupid thing like give your DNA to
some supernatural ancestry site.”
Peony shrugged. “I thought it would be cool. We never see
Grandma and Grandpa Nightwalker since they moved to that fancy
supernatural retirement resort on the mainland years ago, and even
though Mother was raised by her aunt here on the island, she
passed away a couple years ago. I just thought it would be neat to
see if we were related to anyone else out there in the world.” She bit
her lip. “I guess I didn’t think through my actions.”
“Obviously not,” Perry said. “We’ll probably have vampires
crawling out of the woodwork trying to claim a stake—no pun
intended—to our inheritance.”
“I don’t want your stupid money,” Claudia spat. “I never did. I
wanted to find my birth parents. I wanted to find someone so I
wouldn’t be completely alone in the world.”
Iris wrapped her arms around Claudia. “I think you two have
done enough damage for the night. You need to leave.”
“Of course,” Peony said. “I’m sorry, Claudia. I didn’t think about
the consequences of what we were doing. Please forgive me?”
Claudia gave Peony a small nod.
Grabbing Peony’s elbow, Perry said goodnight and quickly exited
the store.
“Are you okay?” Iris asked.
Claudia nodded. “I’m fine. Or, I guess I will be fine. As soon as
the hurt wears off.”
“It’s been a long, emotional day,” Iris said. “Why don’t we close
up shop and go home?”
Claudia stepped over to the counter. “I’ll just put these away. You
go on, Iris. I’ll lock up. I promise.”
“Are you sure?” Iris mused. “I can stay and help.”
 “I’m sure,” Claudia insisted. “Go on home. I’ll see you bright and
early in the morning.”
We said goodnight to Claudia and exited the flower shop.
“What a crazy day,” Iris said. “Poor Claudia. My heart goes out to
her and her predicament with her mother.”
Saying nothing, Zoie slipped her hand into mine. Needles, wings
glowing blue, quietly flew and landed on Zoie’s shoulder. He and I
were both feeling Zoie’s pain.
“Thank you, again, for letting Zoie choose her flowers,” Serena
said. “The next two months can’t come fast enough.”
“I’ll get to work on the bridesmaids’ bouquets next,” Iris
promised. “Then we’ll move on to what you’ll carry, Serena.”
Serena let out a little squeal. “I’m so excited.”
We all laughed and waved goodbye to Iris.
“I’m gonna go grab Dad.” Zoie lifted her hand to her smart car,
clicked the remote, and the engine roared to life. “I’ll meet you guys
at the café.”
“Did you get a remote car starter too?” I asked. “Your dad gave
me one for my Bronco.”
“Yep. He said he didn’t want me to have to get inside a cold
vehicle this winter.”
I smiled. “He said the same thing to me. It took a little longer to
install because of the wards I have on the Bronco, but we eventually
got it.”
A while back, Zoie and I were in a terrible accident thanks to a
vicious killer. Mom and GiGi insisted they double ward my Bronco.
“See you guys at the café in ten minutes,” Zoie said.
 4

A lex offered to fly Needles and me to see Dad after eating at

Enchanted Island Café. This way Serena didn’t have to drive
me back out to my castle, which was about a thirty-minute drive
from downtown. Zoie and Brick ate with us then caught the seven
o’clock showing of Young Frankenstein at the theater.
My favorite nights are the nights I spend talking with my dad in
Black Forest. Usually, I jog to the entrance while the lightning bugs
light my way and fill me in on the latest gossip. But there are nights,
like tonight, when having a boyfriend who flies works out great.
I loved Black Forest and everything it encompassed.
My dad was a genius loci. He was literally the heart and soul of
Black Forest—the protector and spirit and king of the trees and
animals and everything that made up the forest within. Including a
little of the island itself.
And I was a part of him.
Everything about Black Forest was peaceful and grounding. Just
stepping inside made my body feel physically better.
“Did you let Dad know we were flying in?” I yelled back at
Needles, who was snuggled down in my one-shoulder backpack.
Needles popped his head out of the backpack. “Roger that,
Princess.”
As we neared the entrance of Black Forest, I felt a sense of pride
wash over me as I found Dad. He was impossible to miss. He was
the largest tree in the forest.
His tree roots were at least four feet tall and extended out of the
ground about twenty feet from the base of the tree. He was nearly
one hundred twenty feet around, with branches averaging thirty to
forty feet.
He was glorious.
Alex gently set me down at the base of Dad’s massive trunk, and
immediately Needles zipped out of the backpack and chased after
the fireflies. One of the other amazing things about Black Forest was
Alex could hear Dad speak. He could also hear Needles, but Alex
made it a point to ignore that little gem.
“I am joyous you were both able to visit tonight,” Dad said. “How
are you, Alex Stone?”
“Good, sir.” Alex sat cross-legged on the ground.
“And you, Daughter of my Heart? How are you?”
“Excellent.” I rested my back against Dad’s trunk. “It was a crazy
day, though.”
“How so?” Dad asked.
“A new resident of Enchanted Island, Claudia Bloodman, just
found out her biological mother lives on the island. She went out
today to meet her, and it was a horrible experience.”
“I am saddened to hear that,” Dad said.
“The family basically threw Claudia out. Told her not to come
back. And the biological mom begged her not to tell anyone.”
“Who was this family that threw out their own blood?” Dad
demanded.
“Well,” I said, “the mother is Mona Nightwalker. I don’t know her
maiden name yet. But Mr. Nightwalker isn’t Claudia’s biological dad.”
Dad grunted. “The Nightwalkers. I guess I should not be
surprised. Over the last century, from what the birds and animals
have told me, the Nightwalkers have amassed quite a vampire
empire with their business…sometimes at the cost of their
employees.”
“Really?” Alex mused. “Anything I should look out for?”
“I cannot give you specifics, Alex Stone. Just rumors from the
birds that live around the dock where Nightwalker Fish Factory is
located.”
“Well,” I said, “I saw first-hand how rotten the kids are. After Mr.
Nightwalker threw Claudia out of the Nightwalker Estate, the two
kids—about twenty-three or so—drove down to Iris’ flower shop
where Zoie was picking out her flowers for Serena’s wedding, and
they strode into the shop to continue berating poor Claudia.”
An enormous ball of light came barreling my way before
exploding into a ball of giggling and squealing fireflies.
“Hello, Princess!”
“Good evening, Alex Stone.”
“Are you excited about the Samhain festival?”
“We get to run in the maze again this year, Princess.”
“I’ll be sure to stop by the Woods’ booth then,” I said. “I can’t
wait to see you guys in action.”
Every year, Black Forest King lets the fireflies participate in the
Samhain festival by combining their magic with Iris Woods’ family’s
magic. The Woods’ were woodland fairies, and their booth was pure
imagination and enchantment. To the outside observer, it was a
straight-line tunnel that should take less than three seconds to walk
through—but once you stepped inside, it turned into a breathtaking
run through the forest with the fireflies giving chase.
Last year, Serena took Grant through the maze, and he still
talked about it. Since Grant wasn’t raised around the supernatural,
nor did he even realize he was a supernatural, it was one of the first
times in his life he’d ever witnessed true magic.
Alex stood. “I should head home and get some rest. I hear the
festival is quite the party, and just thinking about it makes me
exhausted.”
Laughing, I lifted my hands so he could help me up. “You sound
old.”
“I am old. I have a teenaged daughter who runs me ragged, a
job that keeps me on my toes every day, and a girlfriend who—”
I poked him in the chest. “You better stop right there, mister.”
Grabbing his shirt, I yanked him to me and gave him a kiss.
“My eyes!” Needles did a somersault in the air as he rubbed his
paws over his eyes. “They’re burning.”
 Alex grinned against my mouth. “Think if we kissed again he’ll
just combust?”
Dad’s laughter shook the entire forest floor, and I had to grab
onto Alex to keep from toppling over.
“It wasn’t that funny, Dad.”
“It actually was, Daughter,” Dad finally said once his chuckles
died down.
“Don’t forget, Zoie is driving to my house after school tomorrow,”
I said. “We’re going to practice some magic and then she’s cooking
dinner for us.”
“I’ll remind her.”
“Rest well, Alex Stone,” Dad said. “Give my best to young Zoie.
And, remember, you are always welcome in Black Forest.”
“Don’t tell him that, King,” Needles whined. “He’ll drop by all the
time.”
Once Alex left, I sat back down next to Dad and rested against
his trunk. “I’m glad Zoie’s coming out tomorrow night. I’m a little
worried about her.”
“Why is that, Daughter of my Heart?” Dad asked.
“Tonight, when all the drama was going on between Claudia and
her family, and there was mention of the mom abandoning Claudia
and of the mom not wanting anything to do with her, I felt Zoie’s
heartache. At one point, she even grabbed hold of my hand and
wouldn’t let go.”
“I felt it as well,” Needles said as he rested on my shoulder. “She
shouldn’t hold such sorrow in.”
“I agree.”
Dad was quiet for a few seconds. “I sometimes worry that is how
you feel, Shayla. Like I abandoned you. Or you carry around a hole
in your heart because I was not there for you.”
Turning, I wrapped my arms as far as I could around my dad and
rested my cheek against his rough trunk. “Never.” A tear slid down
my cheek. “Okay, maybe when I was younger, but I just didn’t
understand. Now that I’m older, I do. I love you, Dad. You and Mom
both.”
 One of Dad’s branches rubbed my back as I closed my eyes and
continued to hug him.
 5

“H ey, look,” I said to Needles early the next morning. “There’s

Randor flying around in the sky!”
Needles and I lifted a hand and a paw in the air to him. Randor
waggled back a wing before diving low behind a cliff near the shore.
Randor lived in one of the caves along the beach on the north side
of the island—a place other supernaturals were not allowed to go.
Needles and I spent the next thirty minutes cataloging two
different plant species I’d stumbled across in my exploration of the
north side of the island. Dad had granted me permission, as the
game warden, to cross into the north side to do my job of properly
identifying all the flora and fauna. It would take me months to finish
my task.
I’d just capped the lid to my bottled water when my cell phone
rang. “Good morning, Alex.”
“Morning, Shayla.” There was a tenseness in his voice, and I
immediately went on high alert. “Where are you?”
“On the northwest side of the island,” I said. “Why? What’s
wrong?”
“Good. You’re not too far away. Can you get down to Nightwalker
Fish Factory immediately? We have a situation here, and with Grant
not due back on the island for a couple more hours, I could use the
help.”
“Needles and I can be there in about ten minutes.”
 “What’s going on?” Needles demanded as I disconnected and
headed toward my Bronco. “What’s happened?”
“I’m not sure.” I clicked the remote starter Alex had given me,
then gently placed my backpack of samples onto the floorboard. I
cast a protection spell around the bag so nothing would get
damaged in the journey. “Alex said we need to get down to the
Nightwalker plant. Something’s happened.”
Had it not been an emergency, the drive along the island’s west
coast would have been enjoyable. Even though we were fast
approaching the end of October, the weather was still unseasonably
warm.
I made a right onto Sea Monster Drive and drove the winding
paved road down to the ocean’s edge. Located midway down one of
the docks was a large warehouse—Nightwalker Fish Factory.
When I was in fifth grade, my class went on a field trip to the
factory so we could see first-hand how the fish was processed and
put into stores.
Unlike other manufacturing plants on the mainland, only a
handful of machines were used at the Nightwalker plant. Instead,
witches used magic to fillet, then flash freeze all the fish. From
there, other supernaturals would vacuum seal the fish and put them
in boxes. Once that was completed, trolls and giants lifted the pallets
onto the boats so the fish could be delivered to supernatural grocery
stores on the mainland.
I parked next to a crate of boxes, and Needles and I exited the
Bronco. Seagulls squawked from the air as they circled the dock,
looking for scraps to eat.
“Hey, Doc,” I said as I sidled up next to him. “Can’t be good if
you’re here.”
Doc Drago was our island’s medical examiner. He was of dragon
descent and was much older than he looked.
Doc smiled and shook his head. “Afraid not, Shayla. Finn is
already inside.”
Finn was the forensic specialist and was so good at her job,
every supernatural lab in the country wanted her—including the
Paranormal Apprehension and Detention Agency…the governmental
organization I’d retired from almost a year ago.
Needles dropped to my shoulder as Doc and I walked through
one of the open bays. There was an eerie silence inside the usually
loud and raucous steel warehouse. Supernaturals were standing
around, whispering to each other.
Alex hurried over to us. “The secretary came in this morning
around seven-forty and found Mr. Nightwalker dead in his office. She
called the station to report the death. A few minutes later, the son,
Perry Nightwalker, strode into his dad’s office and viewed the body
as well.”
“I can’t believe this,” I said. “Was he murdered? Or was it natural
causes?”
Alex grunted. “Murder.”
“This doesn’t look good for Claudia,” Needles said from my
shoulder.
“Take me to the body, please,” Doc said.
Alex led us through the large warehouse. The few machines the
factory used were still running, and some employees were working,
but I could tell most were watching our every move. We followed
Alex up a metal staircase and stopped at the top near a door with
myriad windows. The person inside could see what was going on
throughout the entire warehouse.
I shoved my hands in the pocket of my game warden uniform. “I
take it this is Mr. Nightwalker’s office?”
Alex nodded, then gestured to the narrow ledge on his left. “This
door over here is for the secretary, and the last one down there is
Perry’s office.” He opened the door in front of him and ushered us
inside.
Finn looked up from the floor and smiled. “Morning.”
Finnigan “Finn” Faeton was a five-foot-nothing sprite with multi-
colored spiked hair, body tattoos, and piercings in her nose,
eyebrows, and ears. She’d recently been seriously injured and left
for dead in a case we’d been working on. It took GiGi and Black
Forest King both to heal her body. Unfortunately, it took a little
longer for Finn’s mind to heal. She’d taken some time off, went on a
cruise, and ever since her return, was back to the old Finn. She was
even dating a local shifter by the name of Jordan Owlman.
“Whaddya got?” Alex asked, pointing to the evidence bag in
Finn’s hand.
“I found a petal near the body,” Finn said.
“A petal?” I held out my hand. “Can I see?”
Finn handed me the clear baggie, and I frowned. “I get it’s dead,
but to be that dark in color already would mean it was dark to begin
with. Like a deep purple.” I sighed. “This looks like a petal from
Forever Flowers.”
“How do you know, Shayla?” Alex demanded.
“Look at the vibrancy of the color. That’s not a typical color you
find in traditional flowers. I mean, I’ve never seen it before.”
Finn nodded. “The depth of the color was the first thing I noticed
as well.”
Needles did a somersault in the air, his wings shimmering blue.
“I’d say this is definitely not looking good for Claudia.”
“Forever Flowers?” Alex mused. “That’s where Claudia Bloodman
works, right?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Who’s Claudia?” Finn asked.
“I’ll explain later,” I said.
“I also bagged the murder weapon,” Finn said. “Doc will know
more, but it looks like Nightwalker was stabbed through the heart
with a dagger-like letter opener.”
“Seems that way,” Doc said, looking up from examining Mr.
Nightwalker’s body. “But I also see faint bruising around the neck.
Which means he was probably also strangled. I’ll need until later this
afternoon to determine cause of death. What I can tell you is that
the tentative time of death is between six and midnight. I’ll be able
to narrow it down more after the autopsy.”
“And I’ll run the dagger for fingerprints,” Finn said. “Not sure
what, if any, DNA I can find on the petal, but I’ll take a look. I also
found something else interesting.” Finn gestured to a calendar open
on the desk. “I’m sure you’d see it eventually, but there’s a seven
o’clock appointment on the calendar last night with a DW.”
 “Thanks,” Alex said, as he took out his cell phone and snapped a
picture of the petal and the dagger. “Finn, can you take the petal
and dagger with you when you go back to the station? I have
Angelica Wolfspry and Perry Nightwalker on ice in their offices. I
want to question them right now.”
Finn gave Alex a salute. “On it, boss. I should have something for
you when you come by to see Doc later this afternoon.”
Alex and I walked over to the connecting door in Nightwalker’s
office.
“As soon as we figure out who DW is,” I said, “we can see if he
or she met with Nightwalker. That would shave another hour or so
off our timeline if they did.” I grinned. “Unless DW is the killer.”
Alex reached for the door handle. “Let’s go see what Angelica
Wolfspry has to say.”
 6

A ngelica Wolfspry sat behind her desk, weeping into a tissue.

With each sob, the knot on top of her head slipped farther
down her skull, and loose tendrils fell around her face. When she
heard us enter the room from next door, she looked up and forced a
smile.
“Can I get you two something to drink?” she asked.
“We’re fine, Ms. Wolfspry,” Alex said. “You just continue to sit and
see if you can answer some questions for Agent Loci and me, all
right?”
Ms. Wolfspry nodded and grabbed another tissue from the box
on her desk before slipping her glasses back on. When she saw
Needles perched on my shoulder, her mouth dropped. “Oh, isn’t he
just the cutest little thing?”
“Who’s she calling little?” Needles muttered. “Cute is obvious.”
I placed Ms. Wolfspry around Mom’s age—early sixties.
“I can’t believe Mr. Nightwalker is dead,” she said. “Who would
do such a thing?”
“That’s what I’d like to ask you,” Alex said. “Do you know of
anyone who would want to hurt Mr. Nightwalker?”
Ms. Wolfspry’s eyes went wide, and she vehemently shook her
head…this time causing the knot to completely fall. As she tried to
wind the hair back onto her head and secure it with a clip, she
continued to speak. “I swear, I don’t know anyone who would kill Mr.
Nightwalker.” When the barrette sprang open and her hair tumbled
out, Ms. Wolfspry sighed. “He owned the company, so he answered
to himself. I know some of the employees have been complaining of
long hours lately, but nothing that would warrant a murder.” She bit
her lip. “The only person I’ve ever heard Mr. Nightwalker raise his
voice to was his son.”
“Perry?” Alex asked.
Ms. Wolfspry nodded. “Yes. But it wasn’t often.”
“Do you know what they fought about?” Alex asked.
Ms. Wolfspry shrugged and went back to messing with her hair.
“Mostly how to run the business. Perry wants to expand into the
secular grocery stores—not just supernatural grocery stores on the
mainland. Mr. Nightwalker wouldn’t hear of it.”
“I’m sure I have some scissors handy. I could whack that mess
off her head.”
“Hush,” I hissed out of the corner of my mouth.
“Were you here at the plant at all yesterday?” Alex asked.
Ms. Wolfspry shook her head. “I wasn’t. I don’t work Sundays. I
had lunch with my elderly mother and then went home and read for
a while before fixing a light supper. After cleaning up, I took a
shower and went to bed.”
Alex nodded. “If I told you Mr. Nightwalker was meeting someone
at seven here last night with the initials DW, would you know who
that was?”
“Goodness, if it was someone who worked here at the plant, it
could be anyone, I guess. Do you want me to check the employee
files and see who it might be?” She once again tried to fix her hair.
“Off the top of my head, it might be Daphne Witchington, or Doyle
Waterson, or Deloris Wolfman, or—”
“I think I got it,” Alex said with a smile. “We’ll check into that
ourselves. Walk me through your morning and how it was you came
to find Mr. Nightwalker.”
“I always get here around seven-forty,” Ms. Wolfspry said. “I
make sure the coffee is brewing for both Mr. Nightwalker and his
son. I then listen to the messages, if any, and go over my schedule
and the schedules of Mr. Nightwalker and his son. Only this morning,
when I arrived and flipped on the light and started the coffee pot, I
noticed a light on in Mr. Nightwalker’s office. Since he doesn’t usually
arrive until eight, I slipped into his room to shut it off.” A sob caught
in her throat. “And that’s when I saw him!”
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Ms. Wolfspry nodded, her hair moving wildly about her head. “I
think so. Anyway, I saw him, and I just couldn’t believe it. I think I
shouted his name and ran toward the desk. But then I stopped when
I noti—noticed his letter opener sticking out of his chest.”
“It was one he used regularly?” Alex asked.
“Oh, yes. A gift from his wife a couple years ago.”
“And then you called the station?” Alex prompted.
“Yes. It was obvious he was—he was dead.” She gathered her
hair once again in her hands. “So I pulled out my phone and called.”
Dropping her hands in defeat when the knot once again didn’t
stay, I held up my hand. “Do you mind? I can help you with that.”
“You can?”
I waved my hand in the air and whispered a beauty spell.
Immediately, Ms. Wolfspry’s strands were lifted, twisted, and secured
tightly with the barrette. Even her face lost the red splotchy look.
Picking up the mirror on her desk, Ms. Wolfspry smiled. “I could
use you every morning when I get ready, dear.”
“Thank you for your time,” Alex said.
We each handed her our cards.
“If you think of anything or hear anything that might help us in
our investigation,” I said, “don’t hesitate to call one of us.”
Alex stood. “I take it that door over there leads to Perry’s office?”
Ms. Wolfspry nodded. “Yes. Both their offices connected to mine.”
Alex knocked once on Perry’s door before strolling inside. I closed
the door behind me and bit back a smile when I noticed Ms.
Wolfspry admiring her hair in her hand mirror.
“It’s about time,” Perry snapped.
“You must be Perry Nightwalker,” Alex said dryly.
“Yes.” Perry sat behind an imposing desk, his hands folded and
resting on his stomach. “And you must be the new sheriff in town.”
Alex nodded. “Sheriff Stone. And this is Agent Loci.”
 I lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, we met last night.”
Needles laughed and sprang into the air, his wings shimmering
iridescent. “And I’m sure you remember me, you heartless vampire.”
“And you remember Needles?” I mused.
Perry gave a curt nod as Needles landed back on my shoulder. “I
do.”
“We’re sorry for your loss,” Alex said. “But we need to ask you a
few questions.”
“Can you make it quick? I still need to contact my mother and
sister with the devastating news.” He narrowed his eyes. “If you
remember, you insisted I come over here and not contact my family.”
“I remember,” Alex said easily.
I barely bit back my grin. Perry was doing his best to intimidate
Alex, but Alex wasn’t having it. Not that I was surprised. Alex wasn’t
exactly the kind of man, or gargoyle, who intimidated easily…and the
fact a kid barely old enough to order a beer was trying to do it
delighted me.
I was sure it was wrong, but sometimes I was petty that way.
“What time did you arrive at the warehouse?” Alex asked.
“My normal time. A little before eight.”
“Did you come straight to your father’s office?” Alex asked.
“I couldn’t help but hear Ms. Wolfspry. She was hysterical and
blathering on and on. I heard the words ‘dead’ and ‘murdered’ being
spouted, and so I stuck my head inside Father’s office to see what
was going on.”
“And what did you see?” Alex asked.
“Father behind his desk, and the letter opener Mother gave him
sticking out of his chest.”
“Could this guy be any colder?” Needles asked. “It’s like he has
no emotion.”
“Do you know anyone who might want to harm your father,
Perry?” Alex asked.
“Yes,” Perry snapped. “That money-grubbing girl who barged into
our house last night. Claudia something or other. You need to go
arrest her for the murder of my father. I’m sure she’s the killer. She
probably thought if she killed him and befriended Mother, then she’d
get some of our inheritance.” Perry stood. “I demand you arrest her
now.”
“I usually like to have a little more proof than a casual
declaration,” Alex said dryly, “before I arrest someone.”
Scowling, Perry dropped back into his chair. “Why am I not
surprised?” His eyes flickered to me. “I know you’re friends with that
woman, so she’ll probably never get arrested for murdering my
father, isn’t that right?”
I snorted. “If Claudia did kill your father, I can assure you she will
be arrested. But like the sheriff said, we need actual proof before we
arrest someone.”
Alex held up his cell phone. “Have you ever seen this petal
before?”
Perry ran his gaze over the photo. “Maybe. I’ve seen a lot of
flower petals in Mother’s gardens and her greenhouse over the
years. What does that have to do with Father’s death?”
“Just asking,” Alex said. “Do you know who your father was
scheduled to see at seven o’clock last night?”
“Here? I have no idea. He never said he was meeting with
anyone. After he left the house in a rage last night around five,
Peony and I decided to find Claudia and tell her how it was.” He
glared at me. “As I’m sure you remember.”
I figured Alex’s next question would be to ask Perry where he
went after he left the flower shop, but he didn’t.
“That’s all the questions I have right now,” Alex said, ignoring my
quizzical frown.
“Am I free to leave and go tell my family what has happened?”
“Yes. Agent Loci and I will be along shortly to speak with your
entire family.”
“That can’t wait?” Perry demanded.
“No,” Alex said. “Agent Loci and I need to get everyone’s
statements immediately. Also, I’m afraid I’m going to have to shut
you down. This is now an active crime scene, and you’ll need to
send your employees home until further notice.”
Alex and I exited the office and walked down the stairs into the
warehouse. All eyes turned to us as we descended. I could see fear,
questions, and even excited interest in the eyes of the employees as
we walked outside.
“This is a little creepy,” Needles muttered in my ear.
Alex stopped next to my Bronco. “You wanna follow me in your
vehicle, and then we can leave your ride in town later?”
“Sure.” I opened the door and Needles flew inside. “Why didn’t
you ask for Perry’s alibi?”
“I want to get a feel for the rest of the family. I’ll get all three
alibis when we speak to the others.”
 7

I t took fifteen minutes for the employees to clear out and for
Perry to lock up the warehouse. When I went to get in my
Bronco, Alex put his hand on my arm.
“I want to give Perry some time to get home and let everyone
know what’s happened,” Alex said.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I hate just standing around.”
Alex laughed and pulled me close. “We’re all alone out here with
a little time to kill.” He leaned down and kissed me. “Surely we can
find—”
I groaned when pounding sounded on my driver’s side window.
“Dang that porcupine.”
Alex grinned and rested his forehead against mine. “Just ignore
him.”
“Ninety-nine bottles of elixir on the wall,” Needles sang, “ninety-
nine bottles of elixir. Take one down—”
I whirled out of Alex’s arms and glared at a grinning Needles
pressed up against the window.
“The beast is singing in my head,” I muttered. “It’s not a simple
matter of ignoring him.”
“I could shoot him,” Alex offered.
I laughed when Needles held up the front of his paw to Alex. It
wasn’t like a porcupine could give someone the bird…but the
sentiment was there.
 “Let’s just go,” I said. “I’ll drive slow. Follow me.”
I turned off Sea Monster Drive and headed back up the hill to the
Nightwalker’s home. Houses were scattered along the paved road,
but none were as magnificent as the house that appeared in the
distance when I topped the hill. Taking a right, I turned into the
ornate driveway and proceeded under the archway that announced
Nightwalker Estate.
I parked in front of a black, Gothic-style house with gray fencing
around the pitched roofs and gables. Needles nestled against the
curve of my neck as Alex got out of his Blazer and whistled.
“Nice digs,” he drawled.
I snorted. “Yeah. The fish market does well.”
I let Alex take the lead and stood next to him as we waited for
the door to be answered. Seconds later, a tall, gaunt man dressed in
a black tux opened the door. He had to be at least ninety years old.
“You are expected,” he said in a slow, monotoned voice. “The
family is in the front parlor. Please follow me.”
It took nearly five minutes to shuffle down the hallway behind
the elderly butler, but when I stepped inside the parlor, a plethora of
emotions swamped me. From the plants and flowers, I felt both joy
and sadness. From the yapper dog on Peony’s lap, I felt annoyance.
Mrs. Nightwalker was sobbing into her hands, Peony was stroking
the seething dog with one hand and drinking a martini out of the
other, and Perry was leaning against the fireplace, arms folded
across his chest, with no emotion on his face.
“Good morning,” Alex said, “I’m Sheriff Stone, and this is Agent
Loci. We’d like to speak to you about the death of Mr. Nightwalker.”
At that declaration, Mrs. Nightwalker sobbed even louder…which
caused the dog to become even more agitated. When a tuxedo cat
slinked into the room, mischief twinkling in his eye, I nearly groaned
aloud. The last thing my nerves needed was a troublemaking cat.
“Are you a cop?” Peony asked me, setting her drink on the table.
“I guess I didn’t know that.” She shrugged. “Not like you had your
uniform on last night or anything.”
“I’m a game warden now,” I said. “But I used to work for the
Paranormal Apprehension and Detention Agency. The Enchanted
Island Sheriff’s Department uses me when they are shorthanded.”
“That’s cool,” Peony said, stroking the vibrating dog.
“It’s not cool,” Perry growled. “She’s friends with that horrible
Claudia girl, which means Father’s murder will never get solved.”
I held my hand up before Alex could jump to my defense. “I’m
only going to say this one more time, Perry Nightwalker. I am not
friends with Claudia Bloodman. I take my job very seriously. If that
isn’t enough for you…well, that’s just too damn bad. I’ve been in law
enforcement since I was eighteen—about the time you were in
diapers. You don’t intimidate me, and so it’s pointless for you to
keep trying to demean me and get the upper hand.” I took a
menacing step toward him. “It won’t do you any good, and you
won’t like the outcome.”
“Whoohoo!” Needles shot up in the air, his wings glittering purple
and green. “You tell him, Princess. He’s messing with the wrong
crime-fighting team.” He settled back down on my shoulder. “Want
me to pluck out his eyes for you?”
The flush on Perry’s neck was the only tell I had he’d even heard
my rant. His eyes continued to stare coldly at me with no other
emotion crossing his face.
“No need,” I whispered to Needles.
Needles folded his wings around himself and curled into my neck.
He wasn’t very tall, mere inches to be exact, so once he folded his
large wings around himself, he could hide mostly in my hair and in
my neck.
“Please,” Mrs. Nightwalker said. “I’m sorry for my son’s behavior.
We’re just all so upset.” She gave Perry the same “Mom glare” my
own mother gave me on occasion. “Perry, please remember your
manners.”
“Yes, Mother,” Perry gritted out between clenched teeth.
“Ms. Loci,” Mrs. Nightwalker said, “I know your aunt. A lovely
lady.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Nightwalker.”
“Please, call me Mona.”
I nodded. “And you can call me Shayla.”
 Mona smiled. “Thank you, Shayla. I see your vehicle parked in
front of Enchanted Bakery often. I asked about it once and Serena
told me you often help the sheriff’s department.”
“I do.”
Alex gave me a slight nod, which meant he wanted me to take
the lead and ask questions.
“Mona, do you mind if I sit on the couch next to you?” I asked.
“Oh, of course.” Color bloomed on her otherwise pale face. “I’m
sorry for not offering you a seat.”
“It’s okay,” I said, sitting between her and Peony. Mainly I wanted
to calm the dog down. Reaching out my hand, I murmured a
soothing spell to the dog as I ran my hand over him. He instantly
calmed and snuggled down into Peony’s lap. “What’s his name?”
“Snack.” One side of Perry’s mouth curved in a genuine smile.
“Peony got him for our thirteenth birthday, and like most thirteen-
year-old boys, I was a little ornery. So even though she named him
Snickerdoodle, I named him Snack.”
“And here we are, ten years later, and it just stuck,” Peony piped
up, laughing as she gave the little dog a scratch under his neck.
“Why don’t you ever scratch me like that?” Needles whined.
“Well, he’s adorable,” I said, ignoring Needles. “I’d like to ask
you, Mrs. Nightwalker, if you know of anyone who wanted to harm
your husband?”
“No.” She wiped her face and took a deep breath. “My husband
was a—well, he was a hard man sometimes, but he wasn’t evil. He
didn’t set out to intentionally hurt others.”
“So not others,” Needles said. “Just his family.”
I had to admit, I agreed with Needles. By all accounts, Mr.
Nightwalker sounded like a demanding man. It was his way or no
way.
Perry pushed off from the fireplace and paced. “Mother, stop
acting like you don’t know anyone who would hurt Father.”
“That’s enough, Perry,” Mona said sharply.
Perry threw his hands in the air. “Is it enough? Maybe it is, since
that Claudia woman obviously took her humiliation of being rejected
out on Father.”
 “You mean Claudia Bloodman?” I asked. “The woman who came
here last night, discovered Mona was her mother, and then was
promptly thrown out of the house? That Claudia?”
Perry narrowed his eyes at me. “Do you know of another?”
Needles chuckled in my ear. “You’re awful feisty today.”
I don’t know what it was about Perry Nightwalker that rubbed me
so wrong. I liked Peony well enough, but Perry was just a little too
condescending—for a guy of only twenty-three years.
“That’s exactly the Claudia I mean,” Perry said. “You just stated
the motive for her to kill Father. We all know he threw Claudia out of
the house and told her not to come back. When Peony and I went to
see her last night, she was obviously still angry.”
“I wouldn’t say she was angry,” I said. “More like sad.”
“Wait.” Mona Nightwalker scooted to the edge of the couch.
“What do you mean you and Peony went to see her last night?”
Perry stopped pacing and sighed. “Exactly that, Mother. After you
and Father had your row, and you went upstairs, Peony and I
decided to find this imposter woman and remind her she has no
place in our life.”
Mona stood, and I could see she was visibly shaking. “How dare
you!” She closed her eyes for a few seconds before opening them
again. “I’ll have you know, Perry Nightwalker, Claudia was not lying.
She was telling the truth, and deep down, you know it. That young
woman is my daughter, and I will not have you or anyone else in this
family harassing or bullying her. Do I make myself clear?”
“Box his ears,” Needles said. “Or rip out his tongue.”
My eyes shot to Alex. I think I just found Mona Nightwalker’s
motive to kill her husband. With him out of the way, she was now
free to have a relationship with her biological daughter. One it didn’t
sound like she could have with Mr. Nightwalker alive.
Alex shifted his stance. “Mona, can you think of anyone who
would want to hurt your husband?”
Mona shook her head. “I really can’t.”
“What about Samuel Spriteman?” Peony asked. “He and Father
fought all the time. I mean, their businesses fought. I don’t think
I’ve ever really seen Mr. Spriteman in person.”
 “They’re competitors,” Mona explained to Alex. “They aren’t
enemies.”
Alex frowned. “Samuel Spriteman also has a fishing plant on the
island?”
“Yes,” Mona said. “On the east side of the island.”
Alex raised an eyebrow at me.
“That’s right,” I said. “I remember that now. On the southeast
side of the island.”
“They’re business rivals,” Mona said. “That’s all. I don’t think
Samuel would do something like this. They may have been
competitors, but from what I know, they rarely spoke.”
“Would you say that’s true?” Alex asked Perry.
Perry frowned. “I guess I’d say that’s true. I mean, even though
Father had me in charge of marketing, he was still one hundred
percent in control of the company. So pretty much everything went
through Father first. But I can honestly say I never knew Mr.
Spriteman to be openly hostile to Father.”
“Let’s talk about alibis,” Alex said. “Mona, around what time did
your husband leave the house? Do you know?”
Mona frowned and leaned back onto the sofa. “I guess around
five. After Claudia left, he and I had a—um, we had a disagreement
over…” Mona trailed off, then sighed. “I’m sure you understand how
difficult the last day has been for me. First, the daughter I gave up
nearly twenty-six years ago has found me. And then second, my
husband was murdered last night. I’m trying to process all these
emotions.” Mona sighed. “Okay. After our fight, Ralph left the house
in a fit of rage, and I went upstairs to take a bath. And to drink a
bottle of wine. I probably came back downstairs for a bite to eat
around seven.”
“Was anyone here?” Alex asked.
“I bet she says no,” Needles whispered in my ear.
“No,” Mona said.
“Told ya!” Needles exclaimed. “I bet she’s the killer.”
“Wimbly, our butler, told me the twins had gone out around five-
twenty or so,” Mona continued. “I fixed a sandwich, grabbed another
bottle of wine out of the cellar, and drank and read until I fell asleep.
I have no idea what time that was. When I woke up, it was light out.
I think it was around six this morning. I noticed Ralph’s side of the
bed hadn’t been slept in.” She shrugged. “I just figured he’d slept
downstairs or in a guest room. It wasn’t—it wasn’t until Perry came
home a while ago that I even knew something was wrong.”
“Did you ever talk to Wimbly after seven?” Alex asked.
“No. I stayed upstairs the whole night.”
“And you, Perry?” Alex mused.
Perry shrugged. “After we left the flower shop around five-fifty,
Peony and I went to Bites & Beer, a local bar on the west side of the
island for vampires. I left around seven-thirty to go visit Shelby
Gothling, my girlfriend who lives in town. I left her place around ten,
so I guess I got home around ten-thirty or so. I came inside and
went straight to bed. Didn’t see anyone.”
“And you, Peony?” I asked. “Where were you when your brother
was visiting his girlfriend?”
“Oh, I stayed at the bar until around eight. I decided since it was
such a nice night out, I’d walk home. It’s not that far, maybe a mile.
I probably got home around eight-thirty. I let myself in, grabbed a
nightcap downstairs, then went upstairs to bed.”
“You never saw Wimbly?” I asked.
Peony laughed. “Nope. That old vampire goes to bed at eight,
and it would take a hurricane or fire to move him once he retires.”
Mona smiled. “A little crass, but true. Wimbly has been with the
Nightwalker family since before Ralph was born.”
“One last question,” Alex said. “What happens to the company
now?”
“It’ll go to Perry,” Mona Nightwalker said. “It was always set up
that way. Of course, Ralph figured he’d retire and let the company
go to Perry that way.”
“I returned to the island about a year ago,” Perry said. “I
graduated from a supernatural college on the mainland with a
degree in business. I’ve spent the last year as my father’s right-hand
man.”
Alex nodded. “Thank you for your time. Again, Agent Loci and I
are sorry for your loss.”
 “We can see ourselves out,” I said.
As we strode across the foyer, Wimbly met us at the front door.
“Quick question,” Alex said. “Did you see or hear either Perry or
Peony return home last night?”
Wimbly shook his head. “No. I’m getting up in years, sir, and I
don’t hear well I’m afraid. When I go to bed, I’m out.” He gave us a
slow smile, flashing his fangs. “I guess you can say I sleep like the
dead.”
“That’s just unnerving, right there,” Needles whispered.
“Thank you, Wimbly,” Alex said.
“Not a problem,” the elderly vampire said. “Might I assume you
both will be stopping by frequently?”
I smiled. “Until we solve this case, Wimbly, you can assume just
that.”
Once we hit the cool air, Needles flew from my shoulder, his
wings throwing off multiple colors as he did a spin in the air. “As
much as I want it to be Perry or Peony, I think I’m going to have to
go with Mona.”
“Needles thinks it’s Mona,” I whispered. “Look. It’s the
greenhouse. Let’s peek inside and see what flowers she has
planted.”
Alex and I crossed the lawn, and leaning in, pressed our
foreheads to the window. A few seconds later, I sucked in a breath.
“Alex, she has deep purple roses. Just like the petal we found near
the body.”
“Two things,” Alex said as he leaned back. “One, you also told me
the petal looked like the one at Forever Flowers. And two, I bet the
twins have access to the greenhouse as well. So we’re really no
further ahead.”
 8

A lex’s text notification went off when we reached our vehicles.

“It’s Grant. He’s back in town and already heard the news.”
He plunked out a message. “I told him to call Angelica Wolfspry and
get addresses for some of the higher ups in the company. I want
him to interview them. Maybe they know who might have it out for
Nightwalker.”
“Let’s head back into town,” I said. “I’ll park my vehicle in front of
the bakery. I could use some coffee and sugar.”
Alex grinned. “Sounds good. I’ll follow you.”
I pulled out my key fob and pressed the automatic starter. My
way of letting him know I appreciated the gift.
Alex gave my hand a squeeze. “Glad you like it. See you at the
bakery.”
I watched him walk away, barely resisting the urge to give him a
cat whistle.
“You can ogle him later,” Needles grumbled. “Open this door so I
can get inside. I need a salt stick.”
Laughing, I opened the door and let him fly inside, then hopped
up in the driver’s seat. As I pulled away, I glanced up and noticed
Perry and Peony standing in the doorway of the front door. Nothing
creepy about that, I told myself.
I turned onto the main road that would take me back to town,
and was about to pass a house on my left, when an elderly
gentleman standing next to his mailbox raised his hand and waved.
Deciding it couldn’t hurt to hear what the neighbors had to say, I put
on my blinker for Alex to see and pulled into the driveway next to
where the elderly man stood.
“You go on ahead,” Needles said as he withdrew a salt stick from
his mouth. “I got a salt stick here with my name on it.”
Rolling my eyes, I stepped out of my vehicle and noticed Alex
was already talking to the older man.
“Shayla Loci,” the man cackled. “I’d know you anywhere. Spitting
image of that beautiful granny of yours. I heard you were back on
the island to stay.”
“Guilty,” I joked, surreptitiously sliding my eyes to the mailbox.
“How are things with you, Mr. Sealy?”
The elderly gentleman waved a hand in the air. “Now, you can
call me Byron. How’s that scrappy grandma of yours doing?”
I bit back a smile when I finally realized who the man was—GiGi’s
secret admirer. Over the last few months, GiGi had received
arrangements of water lilies and stargazers nearly every week. She’d
been very hush-hush about it, but now it all made sense. Water lilies
represented Sealy and his selkie shifter, while the stargazers
represented GiGi and her witch powers. It was actually poetic and
perfect. The older man had some game. Good for him, because he’d
need it to win GiGi over.
“She’s doing great,” I said. “I’ll tell her you said hello.”
Once again, the old man’s face split into a wide grin. “You do
that.”
I put on a sympathetic face. “Have you heard what happened
down at the fish factory?”
Byron nodded. “I have. My nephew, Stewie, called and told me.
He works down there on the floor loading boxes. I’ll tell you, it’s
getting crazier and crazier with each passing day.”
Alex frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Last night, the foreman, Doyle Waterson, called a bunch of the
floor workers and told them he’d been fired. Mr. Nightwalker himself
did it, I hear.”
 I glanced over at Alex. I was sure he was thinking the same thing
I was—Doyle Waterson’s initials were DW.
“Doyle Waterson?” Alex mused. “Can you describe him?”
“Can’t miss him,” Byron said. “Selkie shifter about 6 feet tall and
6 feet wide. Large guy. Wears an eye patch. He lost his eye in a
harpoon accident when he was young and living on the mainland.
Some poachers mistook him for a seal and tried to take him out.”
I shuddered. “Do you know where Doyle lives?”
Byron frowned. “Can’t say as I do.”
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Sealy,” I said. “Oh, and keep
sending GiGi those flowers. She’ll soften one day.”
The older man cackled. “Will do!”
Alex and I watched Mr. Sealy shuffle back toward his house.
Movement caught my eye, and I looked up in the sky to see Randor
making huge exaggerated movements with his wings.
“Shayla? Daughter of Black Forest King. Can you hear me?”
Randor’s voice filled my head, and I lifted my thumb high in the
air to let him know I could, indeed, hear him.
“Meet me at the water’s edge where the Kraken likes to hide.”
“It’s Randor,” I said to Alex. “He wants to talk. Follow me.”
Inside the Bronco, Needles softly snored in the back. I drove
down the hill until I found the overgrown lane I was looking for.
Throwing up my blinker, I turned onto the rutted lane most people
wouldn’t even notice. When we finally reached the water’s edge, I
hopped out and gently shut the door. No sense waking the sleeping
porcupine.
“Was that even a road?” Alex demanded as he sidled up next to
me.
Laughing, I motioned for him to follow me.
We scrambled down the rocky cliff until we hit the sandy beach.
Legend had it a Kraken called this section of the island home.
Whether or not that was true, I had no idea.
“Shayla Loci,” Randor said as he shimmered into a solid form. “It
is lovely to see you again.”
“You’re looking well,” I said.
Another random document with
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treated as are those of tuberculosis, by soothing sprays and the local
application of anesthetics, astringents, and the like.

INTRALARYNGEAL AND INTRATRACHEAL TUMORS.

Within the larynx tumors may occupy the space beneath the
glottis, where they are referred to as subglottic; they may grow from
the structure of the vocal cords and become intraglottic, or they may
spring from above the glottis and from the aryteno-epiglottic fold.
Certain forms of benign tumor are relatively common in this location,
while others are almost unknown. The former include cysts,
papillomas, fibromas, angiomas, and adenomas, as well as the
ordinary granulomas.
A nodular lesion seen upon the vocal cords, especially in singers,
which is hyperplastic in character, irritative in origin, and often called
“singer’s node,” is frequently found upon the edges of the cords,
either as a single or bilateral lesion. The adjoining structures are
usually quite vascular. These lesions occur in those who abuse their
voices, as, for instance, in amateur singers and newsboys. The
nodules themselves vary in size from that of a pin’s head to that of a
split pea. The condition produces hoarseness and impairment of the
voice, is recognized with the laryngoscope, and is amenable to
treatment, which should consist in absolute rest from vocal effort and
gentle astringent and stimulating applications. If the node project
very far it may be removed by the intralaryngeal guillotine.
Laryngeal polypi include the forms of benign tumor above
mentioned, most of which assume in time a polypoid form, and
cause impairment of function according to their location.
Papilloma is by all means the most common of these growths, and
may present either the vascular type, bleeding easily and growing
rapidly, or the firmer and denser type from admixture with
fibromatous tissue. It occurs frequently in the young, and may even
be present in the newborn. Here it can scarcely be detected with the
laryngoscope, but may be felt with the finger. Cysts take their origin
from the mucosa, save those which, possibly of embryonic character,
protrude into or encroach upon the larynx from without (Fig. 481).
 Fig. 481 Symptoms.—The
sympto
ms of benign
intralaryngeal growths
are largely irritative,
including cough, with
hoarseness and
change of voice, and
going on to
production of
dyspnea in proportion
to the size which they
attain. Later complete
aphonia, with spasm
of the glottis, may be
the result of their
presence, while
pedunculated
growths, or polypi
with long pedicles,
may cause
aggravated
symptoms by
circumstances of
position, the patient
being much of the
time relatively free.
Hoarseness,
dyspnea, and cough,
without other
evidences of
inflammation or
Multiple papilloma of larynx. (Bergmann.) epidemic disease,
should always lead to
careful inspection with the laryngoscope, and this will reveal the size
and situation of the growth. These examinations can be made with
cocaine and give satisfactory information. Only in young children are
they difficult, or sometimes impossible. Even in an infant with a
hoarse cry and spasmodic or suffocative attacks the condition may
be suspected.
Prognosis.—The prognosis will depend upon the character of the
tumor and the local conditions—i. e., size, fixation,
location, etc. In the young it is serious because of the danger
attending its removal. Rational adults can be usually put in excellent
condition for endolaryngeal operation by the aid of local anesthesia,
and expert specialists become dexterous in their manipulation of the
specially shaped forceps, curettes, and the like which are required
for removal of these growths. As elsewhere a truly innocent tumor in
this location does not recur after complete extirpation.

MALIGNANT TUMORS OF THE LARYNX AND TRACHEA.

Of these tumors the most common is epithelioma within the larynx.
Sarcoma occasionally originates from the vocal bands, true or false,
and will usually form a nodular tumor, of rugose surface, until it
begins to ulcerate. Once it begins to break down it is difficult to
distinguish from the other varieties without the aid of the microscope;
but epithelioma may be met with in any part of the larynx, generally
arising from the ventricular bands. Here, as ordinarily upon mucous
surfaces, it begins as a small nodule with a definite zone of
infiltration about it; if seen early it may be mistaken for innocent
papilloma. As infiltration progresses the hoarseness resulting from its
presence will change to loss of voice, because of the fixation of the
tissues whose mobility is essential to voice production. Pain may be
an early feature, depending upon ulceration and exposure of sensory
nerve endings. Later when the ulcerated surface has become deep,
irregularly covered with fetid discharge, and more or less concealed
by edematous surroundings, the picture is more complete in one
respect, although the details may be obscure. From the mucous and
softer tissues the disease will spread and invade the cartilages
themselves, as well as the tissues outside, and so with the progress
of the cancer the entire larynx becomes fixed in a bed of infiltrated
tissue extending in all directions, involving the upper part of the
trachea, the epiglottis, and the base of the tongue. Meantime the
loss of voice, the distressing cough, and the other evidences of local
invasion will have kept pace with the progress of the disease, and
dyspnea will come on sooner or later as the passage-way becomes
blocked, while from sudden, violent efforts at coughing acute attacks
of edema, which may result fatally, are liable to occur.
Tumors of the trachea proper are far less common. They may be
benign or malignant. In either event they will prove to be of about the
same type as those already discussed above as occurring within the
larynx. They cause less interference with speech, but as much or
even more difficulty in respiration.
When tracheotomy was a frequent resort in croup and diphtheria a
peculiar form of new formation in the trachea was occasionally
encountered, resulting from the irritation of the trachea tube, whose
presence sometimes provokes excessive formation of granulation
tissue, whose subsequent contraction brings about not only the
formation of a dense granuloma, but cicatricial contraction. Hence in
the older literature references to granulation stenosis were common.
Now that intubation has almost completely replaced tracheotomy for
these purposes the latter is rarely performed, and tubes are seldom
left more than a day or two in situ, so that this kind of local
provocation, with its consequences, is rarely encountered.
It may be possible by expert use of the laryngoscope to see a
tumor located within the trachea. If the patient cannot tolerate its use
the parts may be made tolerant by the use of a weak cocaine spray.
Such a growth, if accessible from above, may be removed through
the glottis by forceps. Most operators, however, prefer to make an
opening through the trachea and thus profit by the larger surgical
opportunities thus afforded. Such an operation should be made with
the patient’s head low in order that blood may gravitate to the
pharynx rather than to the lungs.

OPERATIONS UPON THE LARYNX.

Cancer of the larynx was regarded, until the last quarter of the
previous century, as an absolutely hopeless condition for which
nothing could be done until it became necessary to do a
tracheotomy, this simply affording relief from some of the distressing
features, but aiding nowise to check the progress of the growth. The
first demonstration of the possibility of successful removal of the
larynx was made by Czerny, in 1870, upon dogs. Watson, of
Edinburgh, had removed a syphilitic larynx in toto in 1866, but this
summary operation only became known to the world through a
publication of Foulis in 1881. Meantime, Czerny’s experiments were
so successful that Billroth was induced to attempt the removal of the
entire larynx in a case of cancer, with results which astonished the
profession of that day. Thus introduced, nevertheless, the mortality
rate was great, the principal cause of death being inspiration
pneumonia—that is, rapid infection of the lung through the widely
opened trachea and the entrance of saliva and fluids from the mouth.
Hahn, of Berlin, undertook the improvement of the technique and
was able to reduce the mortality from this cause. Meantime another
radical method—namely, thyrotomy, i. e., opening the laryngeal box
—had not fared much better than the measure just mentioned. Thus
until about twenty-five years ago the radical treatment of laryngeal
cancer stood in an unpleasant light, partly because diagnostic
methods were unsatisfactory and our general knowledge of the
disease incomplete, partly because operation was always delayed
until late, and because operative measures had yet to be much
improved. Tremendous impetus was given to the whole subject by
the celebrated case of the Emperor Frederick, and the acrimonious
criticisms concerning its conduct were not without benefit, since they
led to a careful re-study of the whole situation, with its numerous
subsidiary questions, among which was the possibility of
transformation of a benign into a malignant tumor. At present, largely
through the labors of Hahn and Billroth, in Germany, and Semon, in
London, the question of operative procedures is fairly settled,
everyone now believing that the disease should be radically attacked
at the earliest possible moment, opinions differing only in regard to
the route which the surgeon should adopt, i. e., whether he should
make an intralaryngeal operation, as is now favored in Germany; a
thyrotomy, as preferred in Great Britain, or a laryngectomy, as some
of the general surgeons in all parts of the world prefer.
The different methods of attack upon the larynx for cancer may
then be summarized as including intralaryngeal extirpation through
the natural passages, thyrotomy, and partial or complete
laryngectomy.
The intralaryngeal method, seen from the general surgeon’s view-
point, can only be suitably applied to a limited class of cases which
are recognized early, and may be best performed by an expert
laryngologist, i. e., one accustomed to instrumentation within the
pharynx and larynx. It includes the use of various instruments for the
excision of small areas, for the application of the galvanocautery, etc.
The writer agrees with Semon in regarding it as irreconcilable with
the principles which should guide us in dealing with malignant
growths, the fundamental one being the removal not only of the
growth itself but of an area of surrounding tissue. This intralaryngeal
method may then be satisfactory in the removal of benign growths,
but will seldom appeal to the operating surgeon when he deals with
cancer. Epithelioma may commence at the accessible tip of the
epiglottis, but intrinsic cancer of the larynx should be dealt with in a
more radical manner. Thyrotomy is the operation of choice,
especially among the British laryngologists. It seems rational to
believe that in cases where diagnosis is made early a thyrotomy,
with removal of the growth and a wide area of surrounding tissue,
including portions of cartilage, if necessary, may prove the ideal
operation, while vocal results are better than after extirpation. It is
necessary, however, that diagnosis should be made early and that
operation be made thoroughly; while if, after opening the thyroid, it
should appear that complete extirpation of the growth is otherwise
impossible, then the operator should make a complete laryngectomy.
All of these operations are best preceded by use of a cocaine
spray, by which extreme irritability of the interior of the larynx is
allayed, and the reflex lowering of blood pressure prevented. (See p.
178.)
Thyrotomy is performed as follows: The patient is preferably in the
position with down-hanging head. An incision in the median line,
about three inches in length, is made from the upper border of the
thyroid cartilage down to a point below the cricoid. With but slight
separation of the tissues it is made to extend directly down upon the
abrupt ridge-like anterior border of the thyroid cartilage, below which
will be exposed the cricothyroid membrane. Into this the knife may
be inserted and made, with cutting edge up, to split the halves of the
larynx exactly in the middle line, the blade passing between the
vocal cords, unless they have been much distorted by the growth. In
that case the dissection may be made more deliberately. The larynx
being thus split, the cricoid should be divided, after which, with
suitable retractors, the interior is exposed to such an extent as to
permit both inspection and palpation. Through the opening thus
afforded all suspicious tissue should be removed, from one side or
both, the primary question being not what will be the resultant effect
upon the voice, but how best to completely eradicate the cancerous
tissue. With the patient’s head hanging downward there is less
likelihood of the entrance of blood into the trachea. Nevertheless the
tampon cannula should always be accessible so that it may be
inserted should it be required. The tampon cannula is a trachea tube
around which there is a small rubber bag, with a tube through which
it may be inflated, so that after the cannula is introduced into the
trachea it may be tamponed by air pressure in such a manner as to
permit no passage of blood.
In the absence of one of these specially designed tubes an
effective substitute may be made by the ordinary trachea tube
wrapped with a covering of antiseptic gauze, the latter held in place
by a few turns of fine silk or catgut.
The thyrohyoid membrane bears the superior laryngeal vessels
and nerves, and it should be entered through the middle line in order
not to disturb these. Whatever operation may be required upon the
tissues within the laryngeal box may be conducted with knife,
scissors, curette, and the fine point of the actual cautery. The interior
of the larynx should be cleaned, leaving it simply as a part of the
respiratory tube, without reference to what may become of the
structures within it devoted to voice production. The cartilaginous
shell, with or without a part of its previous contents, having been rid
of the suspicious tissue within, it may be held together by one or two
sutures of silver wire or by superficial sutures of chromic gut, while
the trachea tube which may have been used may be left for a day or
two, or removed at the time. Ordinarily the latter course will prove the
better.
 Laryngectomy, or total extirpation of the larynx, is the most severe
procedure of all, but will be requisite when there is evidence of
escape of malignant growth from within the true confines of the
laryngeal box. Not only the larynx but more or less of the
surrounding tissue may be removed, with infected neighboring
lymphatics, the upper portion of the trachea, and the base of the
tongue.
The operation may be preceded by a low tracheotomy or
otherwise. If necessary this should be done several days in advance,
in order that the patient may have become tolerant of the tube and of
the new method of breathing. If requisite the ordinary trachea tube
may be substituted for the tampon tube above described, in which
case it will not be necessary to lower the patient’s head. Otherwise
the operation is perhaps best performed with the head and neck in
the Rose position.
The incision is a long median division of tissues from above the
hyoid to an inch or more below the cricoid cartilage. Through it the
anterior border of the thyroid should be easily exposed. It is then
necessary to separate on either side the sternohyoid and
sternothyroid muscles, the lateral mass of the thyroid body being
drawn to either side along with the musculature, the isthmus having
been previously doubly ligated and divided for this purpose. Now as
rapidly as may be the larynx is completely isolated from all the
structures around it, the dissection being bluntly made. After freeing
it on both sides it is drawn forward, first to one side, then to the other,
so that on either side the superior laryngeal artery may be exposed
and secured, the superior laryngeal nerve being necessarily divided.
The cricothyroid branches need also to be secured, as well as any
other vessels which may spurt blood. Circumferential isolation of the
larynx is now completed by dividing the inferior constrictor of the
pharynx and separating it from the side of the thyroid, keeping close
to the cartilage. After this isolation is completed the surgeon has the
choice of first dividing the respiratory tube either above or below the
larynx. This will depend largely upon his own choice, but usually the
procedure is easier when the first division is made either through the
cricothyroid membrane or between the cricoid and the upper ring of
the trachea or even below this point, if necessary. With a low division
first the patient will immediately begin to breathe through the opening
thus made unless a previous tracheotomy has been done. Ample
time will be afforded for the introduction of a trachea tube and
protection around it to prevent entrance of blood, when the larynx
may be lifted and separated with knife or scissors from the tissues
remaining attached. The esophagus begins at the level of the cricoid
cartilage, and if the cricoid is to be removed the esophagus should
be separated from it; otherwise it is not disturbed. Last of all, in this
order, the thyrohyoid membrane will require division, and then the
extirpation is completed.
The wound is large, the communication with the oropharynx is
unobstructed, and there will be constant escape into the newly
formed cavity of secretions from the nose and mouth. At first the
patient will be unable to swallow, although there may be constant
desire to reflex attempts in this direction. The questions to be
decided are the management of the wound in gross and the suitable
treatment of the upper end of the trachea, as well as of the
esophagus, if this has been touched. The greatest danger is that of
inspiration pneumonia. Other consideration should be secondary to
that of prevention of the escape of fluids down the trachea and the
consequent production of pneumonia. General experience is rather
to the effect that the best results are obtained with a minimum of
sutures, the large cavity being lightly packed with absorbent material,
while the upper end of the trachea should be sewed to the skin as
high as possible on either side, the esophagus being allowed to take
care of itself. The patient should wear a trachea tube for several
days after the operation. Through the exposed upper end of the
esophagus a tube may be passed three or four times a day, and
sufficient nourishment be thus introduced into the stomach. The
patient may be kept lying upon the side for the greater part of the
time, so that saliva may escape from the mouth.
The question comes up later as to what substitute, if any, may be
afforded for the lost larynx. Gussenbauer devised an improvement
on what was called the “artificial larynx,” devised originally by Foulis
and then modified by Hahn, which afforded an ingenious mechanical
substitute for the larynx, permitting the production of voice by
vibration of a metallic reed, such tone as it produced being, like that
produced by the vocal cords, modified by the vocal organs above
into perfectly intelligible speech, but always in a monotone. It
consisted of a tracheal tube through whose external opening another
tube could be passed upward to a point where it lay beneath the
epiglottis, if this were left in situ, or behind the base of the tongue, if
the epiglottis had been removed. Through this the patient could
breathe under ordinary circumstances. By a little device at the
external opening the touch of the finger upon a spring would throw
into the air current a thin, metallic reed, by whose vibrations tone
was produced, to be modified as mentioned above. This was the
principle of the artificial larynx which was worn by many patients and
which in many gave good results. One patient of my own wore one
for seven years, although he discontinued using the reed because
the peculiarity of the tone attracted more attention than did the loud
“stage whisper” which he had cultivated. Around the instrument there
is always more or less moisture or discharge, and there are many
disagreeable features attending its use, even though it permit the act
of swallowing without any difficulty.
Solis Cohen introduced a method of treating these cases by
fastening the trachea to the external wound and permitting the cavity
above to close as rapidly as possible. In this way the trachea is
permanently terminated in the middle of the neck and patients
breathe through this opening. It has been found that with practice
they can retain sufficient air in the mouth and pharyngeal cavity to
permit them to whisper several words at a time. This simplifies the
procedure, and is now usually adopted after extirpation of the larynx.
Partial laryngectomies have been practised through external
openings, one lateral half or more of the larynx being removed.
These operations have been few in number and often unsatisfactory.
They should be reserved for cases with favorable indications. When
required they are performed on the same principles as those already
outlined, only the extirpation is incomplete. Certain modifications
have been proposed by individuals, as, for instance, the suggestion
made by Gluck, to suture the opening in the trachea to a buttonhole
opening made in the overlying skin, by which means he thought to
prevent inspiration pneumonia.
 OPERATIONS UPON THE TRACHEA.
Tracheotomy is the general term made to cover any opening into
the lower air passages between the larynx proper and the upper end
of the sternum. Laryngotomy, cricotracheotomy, tracheotomy, etc.,
may be described as implying by these names the exact location of
the opening. The principle is, however, the same, and the details of
the operation vary but little.

Fig. 482

Position of patient for tracheotomy. (Wharton.)

Tracheotomy as a deliberate operation is different from

tracheotomy as it was formerly practised for diphtheria, and as it is
yet done in emergencies, some cases being so serious that
suffocation will occur if the opening be not promptly afforded. In the
former case preparations can be made; in the latter, operation may
have to be done with the blade of a penknife. It makes considerable
difference also whether an anesthetic can be used. To administer
chloroform to a child with a heart already weakened by the toxins of
diphtheria is almost to invite disaster, and yet to do the operation
without an anesthetic is perhaps impossible.
 The middle line is the line of safety in all of these operations. The
danger of heart failure from the anesthetic, or of suffocation from
tardiness of relief, being passed, the other principal danger is that of
hemorrhage. The isthmus of the thyroid may be divided, but always
with preliminary ligatures, or it should be caught between the blades
of pressure forceps on either side before dividing it. A patient with a
short, fat neck, whose cervical veins are dilated and engorged with
venous blood owing to partial asphyxia, makes a difficult and
undesirable subject. The trachea lies nearer the surface at its
laryngeal end than in its lower portion—i. e., if the operation be low
in the neck deep search will have to be made for the tube. The first
incision should be made sufficiently long, never less than two inches,
and should be so planned as to bring the operator down upon the
tracheal rings. By this time sufficient engorged veins may have been
divided to cause a serious oozing of dark, venous blood, by which
the field of vision is much obscured. Except in emergencies the
surgeon may wait for this engorgement to be relieved. The trachea,
being recognized by the finger-tip, is seized with a tenaculum, by
which it may be held forward, and then at least two of its rings
divided with the knife-blade. The instant the opening is made, if the
patient be still breathing, bloody foam and frothy blood will be
ejected, and for a moment or two the bleeding may be
uncontrollable. Under these circumstances the normal blood color
soon returns. Artificial respiration should be practised at the same
time. Supposing this to be an emergency case, with little or almost
nothing at hand, sutures should be passed through the tracheal
opening and through the skin margin on either side. If no other
retractor be at hand the suture materials may be left long and tied
behind the back of the neck, sufficient tension being made to prevent
the wound edges from coming together. Formerly when the surgeon
was called to do this operation with little or no help the writer has
extemporized a couple of retractors out of hair-pins, bent for the
purpose, hooked into the tracheal wound, then tied with tapes, which
were united behind the neck, while the wires were kept from being
pulled out of place by a skin suture on each side. There is now less
occasion for these crude methods since the introduction of
O’Dwyer’s intubation.
 With tracheotomy done deliberately, and at the point of election,
usually above the thyroid isthmus, with or without division of the
cricoid, the vessels may be secured as they are exposed or bleed,
and the trachea should not be opened until all oozing from its
exterior has been checked. For this purpose the patient is placed
upon the back, the shoulders raised, the head thrown backward, and
the neck exposed, a pillow being placed beneath. (See Fig. 482.)
The operation may be done under cocaine local anesthesia or with a
general anesthetic. Incision in the middle line, below the lower
border of the thyroid cartilage, is made two inches or so downward,
the fascia beneath being divided in the same line and the tissues
retracted to either side from this median exposure. Thus one makes
access to the cricothyroid membrane, the cricoid, the upper tracheal
rings, and the thyroidal isthmus. According to the size and location of
the latter (it usually lies in front of the second tracheal ring) it may be
retracted or doubly ligated and divided in the middle. The difficulty
now afforded is from the upward and downward play of the larynx,
which may occur during forced efforts at respiration. To steady it a
tenaculum should be introduced just above the cricoid, a little to one
side of the middle line, firmly fastening it. With this held in the left
hand, thus steadying the parts, a sharp-pointed knife is so employed
as to divide the cricoid and one or two upper rings of the trachea,
being cautious not to wound the posterior wall. The opening thus
made should be about one-half inch in length. Through it a second
hook is now passed into the other side of the cricoid and the incision
held open by their agency while the trachea tube is introduced.
This procedure may be modified in accordance with any local
indications, and may be made according to the needs of the case.
When the opening is made into the trachea below the isthmus it is
called a low tracheotomy. Here the anterior part of the trachea lies
free from the skin, but may be covered with a plexus of veins
connecting with the inferior thyroid. Farther down the arteria
thyroidea ima may be encountered. There is always reason for
operating as high as the case will permit. The trachea may itself be
displaced by the growth which compresses it and necessitates the
operation. Thus it may be crowded to one side, other anatomical
relations being disturbed, or it may be compressed into scabbard
shape, and thus be difficult to find or to open.
The moment the trachea is open more or less marked expulsive
efforts will drive blood and foam in all directions, and may for a
moment obscure the field of vision. Every precaution should be
taken to prevent the entrance of blood into the trachea. Pressure of
the tracheal walls against the tube to be inserted may check
hemorrhage from its margins. The operator should be ready to
suspend all other procedures and make artificial respiration, and he
should also be prepared to open the trachea suddenly, should
impending suffocation require it.
In a general way, then, the indications for tracheotomy are
symptoms of rapidly or slowly threatening obstruction to respiration
from causes either within the larynx—e. g., diphtheria, foreign
bodies, tumors, and the like—or causes external to it, such as
tumors, phlegmons, cicatrices, etc. Any cause which interferes with
the free play of air through the respiratory tube, which can be either
relieved or atoned for by the operation, will always justify it.
Tracheotomy tubes are mechanical devices for not only keeping
the tracheal wound open but permitting the unobstructed passage of
air. They are made of various materials, of which silver is the most
satisfactory, as aluminum is too easily acted upon by the fluids of the
body, and rubber occupies too much space. The tracheotomy tube is
a double tube, the inner one slipping easily into and out of the outer,
and being necessitated by the ease and abundance with which
secretions may collect and dry, and thus obstruct. Were it necessary
to remove the entire tube for each cleansing, difficulty might be met
in re-introducing it, whereas the inner tube is easily removed, quickly
cleansed, and restored to place within the outer without disturbance
or pain to the patient.
Aside from the tracheal tubes ordinarily used there are others
made exceptionally long, and with flexible lower ends, which may be
used in case of tumor low in the neck or high in the mediastinum—
for instance, in cases of enlarged thymus, where it is necessary to
go beyond an obstruction.
In the after-care of these cases it should be remembered that air
passes directly into the lung without being warmed, or moistened, by
passage over the mucous membrane of the upper respiratory tract.
The patient, therefore, should be kept in a warm room, and the air
should be kept moist by the use of a croup kettle or a spray machine.
The inner tube should be kept unobstructed, the length of time
during which it should remain depending on the nature of the case.
So soon as its usefulness is passed it should be removed. A
tracheotomy wound kept open but for a day or two will quickly close,
but one which has remained open for weeks may close with difficulty,
and then there may be trouble from granulation stenosis or cicatricial
contraction. (See above under Stricture.) In instances where a
permanent opening is to be maintained it is desirable to remove the
tube as early as circumstances may permit.

INTUBATION.
The perfection by Joseph O’Dwyer of a method, at which others
had worked, of substituting intubation of the larynx for the old
tracheotomy, not only shed the greatest luster upon his own name,
but has afforded a speedy and bloodless method of accomplishing
much more than had been previously possible by the older
procedure. The method comprises the emplacement of a suitably
sized and shaped tube within the larynx, by a manipulation guided
almost entirely by the sense of touch, for the relief of suffocative
symptoms due to disease at this level, and leaving the tube in situ for
a sufficient time to permit morbid activity to subside and justify its
removal.
It is advisable to have a half-dozen tubes, varying in size from 1¹⁄₂
inches to 2¹⁄₂ inches in length, and of corresponding increase in
other dimensions, each of which affords a passage-way for
respiratory purposes, and is also provided at its upper end with a
flange, which shall rest upon the false vocal cords and prevent the
descent of the tube into the trachea below. The complete set of
instruments as now furnished by all the manufacturers provides an
assortment of these tubes, with a scale indicating which one to use
upon a patient of a given age, and includes a mouth-gag, which may
be used for many purposes, and two handled instruments—one
intended for the introduction, the other for the extraction of the metal
tubes.

Fig. 483

O’Dwyer’s laryngeal tube and introducer.

Fig. 484

Mouth-gag.
Fig. 485

Extractor.
 Fig. 486

Intubation of the larynx.

 Fig. 487

The tube in the pharynx.

A suitable tube having been selected, a strong thread is passed

through a small opening near its head, thus affording means for
withdrawing it should there be need before it is finally left in its
resting place. The particular obturator meant for the tube to be used
is then firmly fastened upon the handle and over it the tube is
slipped. The instrument should then be tested to make sure that
disengagement of the tube will easily take place. Everything being
ready, the patient is then held in the arms and on the lap of an
assistant, in the position indicated in Fig. 486. The individual holding
the patient should be perfectly reliable in the matter of presence of
mind and self-control, for a great deal depends upon having a child
firmly and properly held during the moment of intubation. The arms
and hands of the patient should be well wrapped with a towel and
firmly held by the side of the chest, for the temptation is inevitable to
put the hand to the mouth and interfere with the operator. A second
assistant should stand above and behind, holding the mouth-gag in
position, as represented, and steadying it as well as the head. It is
necessary that the mouth-gag be held firmly in place, for if it should
become disengaged the child may bite the operator’s finger.

Fig. 488

The tube penetrates the larynx. (Lejars.)