“No, it’s fine. Just get them to me later.” She laced her fingers together and cracked them in one fluid motion. “I’m ready to punch someone in the face, but otherwise I’m fine.”
That also didn’t sound in alignment with the yoga vibe.
“Seriously, if I could punch through this wall right now, I would.” Addie pounded on the counter to prove her point.
“What’s going on?”
“The stupid local police. They are such idiots.”
Clearly Addie wasn’t aware of my connection to the Professor and my history with Thomas, or if she was she didn’t care.
“How so?”
Addie blew air out her nostrils. “They’ve been by my studio three times now to question me. They keep asking the same stupid, idiotic questions over and over again. It’s ridiculous.”
I knew that if the Professor was returning to question Addie, he likely had a good reason.
“It’s like they think I killed that dirty homeless guy. Why do they keep bothering me? They won’t leave me alone. I’ve told them that I wanted nothing to do with him,” she continued, her eyes fixed on the prayer flags waving in the slight breeze. “They know that anyway. I told them to look up my many attempts to get a restraining order. The Wizard was not allowed on this property. I have the paperwork to prove it.”
A restraining order? Addie had taken out—or tried to take out—a restraining order on the Wizard?
“I don’t understand,” I said to Addie. “Why did you need a restraining order?”
“He wouldn’t stop bugging me.” She cracked her neck. “He hung around here all the time. All the freaking time. He was dirty and gross and he scared away my clients.”
She kicked a rock at her feet. Then shot her head toward Nana’s. “I blame Laney. She was constantly feeding him and checking on him. I told her that he was nuts. He was a grown adult and if he couldn’t take care of himself that was not our problem.”
Her callous attitude gave me pause.
“But, why a restraining order?” I pushed, not wanting to reveal Laney’s secret.
“Because he was a menace. He would dig through the garbage cans and hang around outside the studio begging for money. It was a total turnoff for my clients. He would ride his bike by the studio and scream his head off to interrupt my classes. He did it every single day. I lost tons of business.”
That didn’t sound like the Wizard. I had never seen him panhandling. And loitering didn’t equate to danger in my book.
“He was stalking me,” Addie insisted. “He would follow me down the path to my car at night—not once or twice. Every night. He knew what he was doing too. He would ride just far enough behind me to creep me out.”
“So you took out a restraining order?”
“No, I tried. The police declined multiple times. They claimed that the bike path is public domain and said I didn’t have any evidence. He rode by here all the time to mess with me. I warned him a few days ago that if he came near me I was arming myself and he’d be sorry.”
“Arming yourself?” Addie had a gun? The thought of a yoga instructor toting a gun was a complete dichotomy.
“Not with a gun, although my dad told me he would bring one of his hunting rifles up for me if the Wizard kept bothering me. I bought pepper spray and a Taser. You can’t be too prepared. If he was going to follow me at night, then I would take matters into my own hands. The police were worthless. They wouldn’t do anything.”
I tried to digest what Addie was saying. She had threatened the Wizard. Could that be why the Professor kept questioning her?
It was like Addie had read my mind. “The police are stuck on that. They think because I bought pepper spray—legally by the way—that I had a vendetta against the Wizard. It was the other way around. He was out to get me from the start. From the first day I moved here he started harassing me. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that he didn’t try something. I don’t know why everyone in this town is so concerned about his well-being, when they should have been concerned about mine.”
“I’m sorry to hear that you had challenges with the Wizard. I think the reason the community has responded like we have is because none of us had interactions with him like that. I never knew him to be dangerous. In fact, if anything he was the opposite—he spread joy.”
“You try being followed to your car every night by someone in a black cape and see how it feels.” She stared at me with fury. “And that’s not true about the entire community loving him. You should talk to Hunter. He’ll back me up. The Wizard did the same kind of stuff to his bike shop. Stealing bikes, begging in front of the store. The graffiti by the dumpsters. That’s from the Wizard.” She motioned toward the alleyway. “Hunter was fed up too. I told the detective to talk to him and stop asking me the same freaking questions.”
“I’m sure that the police are following up on every lead.” I wondered about the truth behind Addie’s statement. When she had complained about someone following her earlier, I had gotten the feeling that she meant from a distance, like my experience. Now she was making it sound like the person was on her heels.
“Yeah? You think so? I’m not so sure. If they want to know who killed the Wizard they should stop bugging me and venture across the street.” With that, she turned and disappeared into the studio.
Had I heard Addie correctly? Was she hinting that Hunter could be the killer?
Chapter Seventeen
My conversation with Addie left me more confused than ever. I couldn’t reconcile the docile and kind man I had known as the Wizard with her description of him. Was she lying? Could it be the other way around? Had she harassed him because he didn’t match the aesthetic of her high-end yoga studio? Why was the Professor continuing to question her? He must have some serious suspicions about her story.
And, what about Hunter? I had witnessed him threaten the Wizard in person. Was he an ally in Addie’s fight or could there be more to it?
I finished stacking the last of the supplies and closed up the outdoor kitchen for the night. In the flurry of activity, I hadn’t checked my cell phone since I had posted the ads. I turned it on to find I had two missed calls and a voicemail from Carlos.
“Julieta, you left me sleeping this morning. You should have woken me. I hope your day was good. I have a meeting at five this evening. Then Lance would like to meet for dinner and drinks at Alchemy. Is this okay, si? If so, I will meet you there at seven.”
A meeting? The dropping sensation returned to my stomach. What meeting? Carlos seemed to be having a number of meetings, none of which he was talking to me about. Why the secrecy?
I knew what I had to do—face my fears and talk to Carlos. If he wanted to return to the ship, it would be better to have him go sooner rather than dragging out my heartbreak.
Tonight, Jules, do it tonight, I told myself as I tucked Steph’s menus into a drawer and left Scoops. I had nearly two hours. That would be enough time to swing by Torte and get my thoughts together. After our dinner with Lance, I was going to sit down with Carlos and ask him for the truth.
Thoughts of him returning to the Amour of the Seas clouded my vision as I headed for Torte. At least we had given it a shot. That was better than not trying. I guess I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been clinging to the hope that Carlos might fall under Ashland’s spell.
How can he not love this? I thought as I strolled along Fourth Street, past sweet little cottages with white picket fences. Bees hummed on wildflowers. Neighbors chatted on porches, and everyone waved hello as I walked past.
I barely remembered turning onto Main Street. Hot tears welled in my eyes as I imagined driving Carlos to the airport and saying a final goodbye.
At Torte, I stopped to get my emotions in check before going inside. The team was likely gone, but I didn’t want to risk looking like a blubbering mess. Steph and Rosa’s window display provided the perfect distraction. I blinked away my tears, rubbed my eyes on my sleeves, squared my should
ers, and took in a long, slow breath. The window turned out even better than I expected. They had strung paper flowers and purple and pink fairy lights from the top of the window. Cake platters in a variety of sizes had been arranged in paper grass at the bottom of the window. Each cake stand was piled with rose meltaway cookies and paper rose petals.
I smiled, feeling more centered, and unlocked the front door. Once inside, I went downstairs to find Mom in the kitchen.
“Mom, I’m so happy to see you!”
Mom wrapped me in a hug. “Me too. I told Marty that if he doesn’t see me around here more, I should fire myself.”
“Never.” I kissed her cheek. “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re here.”
She sprinkled olive oil on pizza dough. “I told Doug that I would make dinner here since he’s busy with the case. That way he doesn’t have to drive out to the lake or settle for takeout.”
“What’s on the menu?” I looked over her shoulder.
She massaged the oil into the pizza dough. “A simple wood-fired pizza with fresh basil, goat cheese, tomatoes, and grilled chicken.”
“Yum.” I swiped a piece of chicken.
“You’re welcome to stay. Carlos too.”
“Apparently we’re having dinner with Lance later.” I watched as she brushed red sauce on the pizza dough. “Anything new with the case?”
“Not that I’ve heard. Doug is upset by this one. The Wizard has been part of the community for as long as I can remember.”
“Did you ever think he was dangerous?” I asked.
Mom scowled. “The Wizard? No.”
I told her about my conversation with Addie.
“That doesn’t make sense.” Her brows arched. She wiped her hands on a towel. Mom was a true beauty. She was in her fifties but could have passed for my older sister with bright brown eyes and soft features.
She sprinkled goat cheese on the pizza. “As far as I know, the Wizard never panhandled. Doug told me that was because he didn’t need to. Once they discovered his identity they were able to pull old records. Jim had plenty of money. In fact his bank account had nearly thirty thousand dollars in it.”
“Really?” That was huge news. The Wizard had money? Laney couldn’t have known that because she had mentioned on more than one occasion that things were tight at Nana’s. Could someone have killed him for the money?
We shared what we each knew about the case. Then the conversation drifted to Scoops and baking.
“I have some exciting news that is top secret,” I said to Mom, knowing that I could trust her to keep what I was about to tell her quiet. Plus, I wasn’t ready to talk about Carlos. I figured Thomas’s news would keep us occupied. “Thomas is going to propose to Detective Kerry.”
Mom gave me a strange smile.
“What?”
“Janet called earlier to tell me.” Mom and Janet, Thomas’ mom, had been best friends for years. “Isn’t it wonderful news?”
“Yes! I’m holding out hope for a real wedding, but Thomas wasn’t sure if that’s Kerry’s style. However, we have been asked to make an engagement dinner.” I told her about his request for Proposal Chicken.
“Many love stories have been launched with that chicken.” Mom grinned.
“Let’s do that along with a shaved Brussels sprout salad and garlic knots. Thomas wants donuts, so I was thinking we could make an assortment of glazed rounds and decorate them with beautiful fruit-infused glazes—raspberry, blackberry, lemon cream, chocolate orange, almond cherry. Then we could bake a tiered donut cake in our round Bundt pans—I’m thinking buttermilk with touches of cinnamon and nutmeg with a cherry drizzle and sprinkles on the top. He could tuck the ring box into the center of the cake. What do you think?”
“Ohhhh, I love it.” Mom clapped. “Who doesn’t love love?”
“Exactly!”
We worked in tandem, prepping her dinner for the Professor. He showed up a few minutes before I was due to meet Carlos and Lance at Alchemy.
“Baking goddesses, what smells so divine?” The Professor hung his tweed jacket on the coatrack near the basement door and came into the kitchen. He greeted Mom with a soft kiss on her forehead. Then he turned to me. “Juliet, I’m pleased you’re here. Will you be joining us for dinner?”
“I’m actually on my way out the door to meet Lance and Carlos.”
“Ah, excellent.” He looked to the clock that hung on the far wall. “Might I beg five minutes, or will that make you late?”
I glanced at the clock. “No. I have time.”
Mom shooed us out of the kitchen. “Go sit. I’ll finish dinner.”
The Professor and I moved to the couch near the atomic fireplace in the seating area adjacent to the kitchen.
“Did you find Sky?” I asked.
He removed his Moleskine notebook from his plaid striped shirt. “Alas, not as of yet. I’m not abreast to what you may have already learned from Thomas, but we suspect that he’s gone into hiding.”
“Yeah, that’s what Thomas said. He also said you knew about the Wizard being Laney’s father?”
“I wouldn’t necessarily say that I knew, as much as I had an inclination that he was connected to someone here who had his best interests at heart.”
“Laney was distraught when I saw her earlier. Mom said that Jim had money—thirty thousand dollars? I don’t think Laney knows that. She’s talked candidly about the financial challenges of running a food truck. Do you think he was killed for his money?”
“It’s most unsettling, and frankly at this point everything is a possibility. However, it’s doubtful anyone could have known his financial status. We discovered the money in a 401k that hasn’t been touched for thirty years.” He pressed his index fingers to his lips and turned the page in his journal. After finding what he was looking for, he returned his gaze to me. “I don’t want to keep you from your engagement, but I would like to ask what your impressions are of your new landlord, Addie.”
I wasn’t the least bit surprised that the Professor was interested in learning more about Addie. “Did Andy call you?”
“He did. I appreciate you steering him in my direction.”
“Well, there’s that. I don’t know if Addie and Dean or someone else has been dealing on the tracks. Laney wondered about Lars too, Hunter’s son.”
The Professor made a note. I went on to explain our strange conversation and her insistence that the Wizard was stalking her. “That doesn’t sound like him, does it?” I asked.
“Jim—the Wizard—may have been eccentric, but a stalker, absolutely not.”
“Do you think Addie’s lying?”
He considered my question for a minute. “Perhaps. Or perhaps this is a case of mistaken identity.”
“You think someone was pretending to be the Wizard?” I flashed to the biker Laney and I had seen in a cape earlier.
“At this stage, I have no proof and nothing tangible to go on other than my instinct, but it wouldn’t be difficult to tie on a cape and take a spin around the bike path, would it? I think there’s a distinct possibility that in the dark, one could easily make an assumption that they’d seen the Wizard, when in fact they hadn’t.”
The Professor’s hypothesis made sense to me. Addie had specifically commented on seeing her stalker in a cape. Someone could have been posing as the Wizard, but who?
Mom came toward us with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
“I must let you go, Juliet.” The Professor stood and offered me a hand. “Do give our best to Lance and Carlos.”
I hugged them both goodbye and left. On the short walk to Alchemy, I racked my brain for who could possibly have pretended to be the Wizard. Someone who wanted to intimidate or scare Addie. Why? Addie had a brash personality. Was it possible that her attitude had rubbed someone the wrong way? Maybe the imposter had simply picked the Wizard as an easy scapegoat. Or, could it be connected to his murder?
Chapter Eighteen
Alchemy was a swanky bar c
onnected to the Winchester Inn on the south side of town. Its wall of twelve-foot high windows was lined with gold rope lights. The interior was dimly lit with glowing candles and recessed soft lights on the ceiling and bar. Four dark walnut tables flanked each side of the narrow space with a bar at the far end that boasted Ashland’s most impressive collection of spirits. Glass bottles in shimmering blues, silvers, and gold lined the shelves that stretched to the ceiling. A ladder on rollers hung at one end of the bar to access the top shelf. It reminded me of a Shakespearean library.
Carlos and Lance were seated at a table closest to the bar. Their heads were huddled together when I approached the table. They spoke in hushed tones.
“Hey guys,” I said with a bright grin.
They jumped apart.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Interrupting? Darling, banish the thought.” Lance sounded too perky.
I caught him giving Carlos a side-eye as I slid into the bench.
Carlos casually wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “You are right on time, mi querida.”
“What were you guys talking about?” I looked from Lance to Carlos.
“Cocktails.” Lance offered me a cream-colored, embossed drink menu. “Choices, choices.”
I could tell they were holding back, but I studied the menu. Each cocktail had its own clever story on the menu, like the Drawing Down the Moon—a clove-infused gin mingled with fresh lemon, bitters, and house-made citrus syrup. The note beneath the cocktail read: “She walks amidst the shadows of night, the radiance of the moon her only light.”
“Now that is a very romantic cocktail,” Carlos said, pointing to the drink.
“I’m partial to the Don’t Run in the Campground,” Lance said.
We all chuckled when we read the description of the smokey whiskey: “You only ran because it’s past tense.”
“Clever, clever cocktails.” Lance rubbed his hands together and smirked.
“What are you going to order?” I asked. “No, wait. Let me guess.” I studied the menu for a minute. “I’m thinking the Persimmon Slip.”
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