by Morgana Best
I crossed my arms over my chest. “There’s nothing to sue us for,” I said with narrowed eyes. “And we gave you a cut rate.”
She looked me up and down with a malicious smirk on her face. “Well, I think I have enough vegetables for now.” With that, she hurried off.
I burst through the kitchen door. The aunts were sitting around the kitchen table, drinking Witches’ Brew. “Euphemia Jones was just out there stealing our vegetables,” I said.
Aunt Dorothy nodded slowly. “Yes, we saw her, but we thought perhaps we should not confront her.”
“Why ever not?”
“We thought it judicious simply to watch her,” Aunt Agnes said. “Don’t worry, she won’t be here for long, Valkyrie.”
“I don’t like her,” I said. “I think she’s up to something. Anyway, Alec Aldon said he thought she was the murderer.”
“On what grounds?” Aunt Agnes asked me.
I sat at the table opposite Aunt Maude. Aunt Agnes put a glass goblet in front of me and filled it with Witches’ Brew. “He didn’t really have a clue,” I said, “and he also seemed to think it was Mrs Mumbles. He didn’t tell us anything we didn’t really know.”
“Do you suspect Alec Aldon?” Aunt Agnes said.
“Well, he doesn’t really have a motive, as far as I could tell,” I told them. “He has five vintage cars and Ethelbert Jones sold him one quite cheaply. It did turn out to have engine problems, but with what it will cost him to fix it, he still comes out ahead of paying full price. That’s not really grounds to murder anyone.”
“Maybe he had another reason to kill him.” Aunt Dorothy stood up and stretched.
“Maybe,” I said, “but something strange happened. You know how my right eye twitches?”
The aunts all nodded. I pushed on. “I saw a car following us on our way back to town, and my right eye twitched. I pulled down a laneway. No one would have seen me leave the road, and it was hard to see the car no doubt, but Alec Aldon pulled up and asked us if the car had broken down. I pushed Linda down and said she was having a bathroom break in the bushes.”
The aunts thought that was awfully funny. “Didn’t he see her? Or is his eyesight as bad as Dorothy’s?” Aunt Maude said.
“There’s nothing wrong with my eyesight,” Aunt Dorothy said. She had gone over to the cabinet to fetch a fresh bottle of Witches’ Brew and was addressing a tall bronze statue of Artemis.
Aunt Agnes and Aunt Maude both exchanged glances and shook their heads.
“Linda dropped the phone when she was texting Aunt Agnes so I pushed her down and told to stay there,” I said.
“That was quick thinking, Valkyrie,” Aunt Agnes said. “Did he say why he was following you?”
“No,” I said. “He was simply heading in the direction of town, so if it was innocent, then it was nothing to do with my right eye twitching.”
“It twitches as a premonition though, doesn’t it?” Aunt Agnes asked me.
I nodded. “Yes, as a rule, but this time I felt it was something to do with the car following me.”
“Did anyone try to take a piece of your hair, either Mrs Mumbles or Alec Aldon?” It was Aunt Maude who asked the question.
Before I could reply, Aunt Agnes got up and stood behind me. She gasped.
“What is it, Aunt Agnes?” I shrieked. “Is it a spider?” I jumped up and patted myself down.
“No, a whole chunk of your hair is missing at the back,” Aunt Agnes said.
“Oh no! Does it look terrible?” I asked her.
“That’s hardly the point, Valkyrie,” Aunt Agnes said sternly. “It doesn’t matter how you look. The point is, today you have been in contact with the spy for The Other who has taken a large piece of your hair. How could that be possible? Now, think about it hard.”
“Pruning shears!” I exclaimed. “Both Mrs Mumbles and Alec Aldon had pruning shears, and both more or less bumped into me at some point.”
Aunt Agnes scowled. “Did anyone else bump into you? Think, Valkyrie, this is important.”
“There was a man who bumped into me at Mrs Mumbles’ plant nursery,” I said. “I didn’t see him. He was hurrying past and pushed me forward hard. He took off. It all happened so fast that I wouldn’t be surprised if he cut off some of my hair.”
“What did he look like?” Aunt Agnes asked me.
“I actually didn’t see him,” I said, trying to remember. “He disappeared around the corner. I only saw a flash of someone fairly tall and not terribly skinny, but that’s all I could tell you. I couldn’t even tell you what colour hair he had. Perhaps it was a woman. I have no idea. At the time I thought it was entirely innocent.”
“And it might be entirely innocent,” Aunt Agnes said. “Then again, it might not. So then, we have three suspects who could be the spy for The Other—Mrs Mumbles, Alec Aldon, and the mysterious man or woman in Mrs Mumbles’ plant nursery. Are you sure no one else bumped into you today?”
“I’m absolutely positive,” I said. I bit my fingernail and thought some more. “I’m sure I would have noticed because I was expecting someone to take a piece of hair or my clothes. I didn’t think someone would attack me with pruning shears.”
“Call Linda and ask her if she noticed anything,” Aunt Dorothy said. “Don’t mention The Other, of course.”
“Particularly ask her when she noticed a chunk of your hair missing,” Aunt Maude added. “You know, I’m surprised she didn’t comment.”
Aunt Agnes made a strangled sound. “Of course Linda wouldn’t have noticed, or she would have said. Here, Valkyrie, I’ll take a photo of the back of your hair with your phone and you can text it to her.”
I gasped when I saw the chunk missing from my hair. There was a big V missing at the back of my hair off to my right side. It looked awfully strange. “It’s terrible!” I lamented, but a look from Aunt Agnes silenced me. I texted the photo to Linda and asked her to call me at once.
“It’s a bit avant-garde, isn’t it?” Linda said by way of greeting. “Did you do it yourself?”
“No! The aunts noticed I have a huge chunk of my hair missing at the back,” I said. “Someone did it today. Did you notice anything wrong with my hair at the back?”
“Wouldn’t you have noticed if someone cut your hair?” Linda said.
“No, we think the murderer probably did it to put a spell on me,” I said. It sounded awfully lame, and I considered I wasn’t such a good liar after all.
Thankfully, Linda bought my story. I felt bad lying to her, but she could not know about The Other. She was a Shifter, and that would put her in great danger.
“You know, I don’t even think I saw the back of your head today,” Linda said. “I didn’t notice that at all. I couldn’t tell you when it happened, sorry. I wish I’d noticed. But I think I was walking ahead of you all the time.”
“Are you sure you would have noticed?” I asked her.
“For sure,” she said. “I don’t remember standing behind you at any point. I remember I walked ahead of you to Mrs Mumbles and I walked first down the path to Alec Aldon’s and I was first in his barn to look at his cars. Come to think of it, I was also first out to your car when we left his place. I can’t recall if I was behind you at all.”
I looked at the aunts. I thanked Linda and hung up.
“Look on the bright side,” Aunt Agnes said. “We know the spy for The Other is one of those three people.”
“What three people?” Dorothy said.
“Haven’t you been listening, Dorothy?” Agnes snapped. “It’s either Alec Aldon, Mrs Mumbles, or the mysterious man.”
“Clearly, it was the mysterious man,” Aunt Dorothy said.
We all looked at her. “Why?” we all asked in unison.
“Because he is mysterious, of course,” Dorothy said with a wide smile.
Aunt Agnes groaned and put her head in her hands.
Chapter 17
“Lucas was just here. You missed him,” Aunt Maude announced.<
br />
“He was looking for you,” Aunt Dorothy added. “We were careful not to tell him you were investigating.”
“What did you tell him?” I narrowed my eyes. My aunts were not the most tactful people.
“I told him we were going for a pedicure,” Aunt Agnes said.
I frowned. “A pedicure?” I wondered if I had heard her correctly.
“Yes, a pedicure,” she said. “I’ve booked us both in for a pedicure.”
I was about to ask her why on earth she had done that, but she said, “Killian Cosgrove is a pedicurist.”
I sat bolt upright. “He is?” I tried to remember what he looked like.
“He and his wife own a pedicure and manicure salon,” Aunt Agnes said. “What better way to cross examine someone than when they are giving you a pedicure!” Her voice ended on a note of triumph.
“I don’t know about that,” I said, having visions of someone sticking a cuticle cutter into my toenails as a form of torture. “My feet are very ticklish.”
“He won’t suspect a thing,” Aunt Agnes said with a wave of her hand. “And even better, his wife is there! I have booked us both.”
“Great,” I said sarcastically, but my aunts all nodded enthusiastically. “My feet are very ticklish,” I repeated, but no one seemed to care. “Is it for today?”
“Yes, didn’t I just say that?” Aunt Agnes said. “I think you’ll have to leave soon.” She looked at her phone. “We had better go now. We can go in my car. I’ll drive.”
And so, five minutes later, I found myself on my way to Karen and Killian Cosgrove’s pedicure salon. “Thank goodness neither of us have had a pedicure recently,” Aunt Agnes remarked, “because he won’t be suspicious.”
“Why would he be suspicious of someone who has frequent pedicures?” I asked her. “And I’ve never had a proper pedicure because my feet are so ticklish.”
Aunt Agnes did not respond.
The pedicure salon was in a large shopping centre on the ground floor. Aunt Agnes had trouble finding a parking spot in the underground parking centre. “This is a bad omen,” she said.
“What is?” I asked her.
“Not getting a parking spot easily,” she said. “I have to do a Road Opener work or a Blockbuster work. That reminds me, I’m almost out of black candles.” She tapped her head with one finger.
“I’m not sure I’m following you,” I said.
“I’m reading the signs. If it’s easy to get a parking spot, then I know there are no blockages in my life. If I drive past and then later see available parking spots, then I know that my timing is wrong. If I find it difficult to get a parking spot, then I know there are difficulties to be surmounted.”
“Does that mean it won’t be easy to find the killer?” I asked her.
“Possibly, but it might be difficult to discover the spy for The Other. Then again, it could simply be both.”
I rubbed my forehead with my left hand. “I think I’m getting a headache.”
“You will feel good soon,” Aunt Agnes said. “We’re multi-tasking, questioning a suspect and having a pedicure at the same time.” She beamed as she said it, but I wasn’t so sure.
It wasn’t far to the pedicure salon and a short woman with cropped black hair was at the reception desk. “I’m Agnes Jasper. I’m booked for Karen Cosgrove and my niece Valkyrie here is booked for Killian Cosgrove,” Aunt Agnes said.
The woman consulted her book and then showed us to two adjoining chairs. “I’ll turn on the massage chair and please tell me if it’s too strong for you,” she said.
She turned it on and I nearly jumped out. It vibrated so hard it set my teeth on edge and jarred my back. “Are you able to turn mine down at all, please?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. It’s either on or off.”
“Off then, if that’s okay,” I said. I wrinkled my nose at the pungent smell of glues and solvents.
She didn’t look pleased but made no comment. “What about you?” she asked Aunt Agnes.
“I love it! Can you make it go faster?” she asked.
The woman’s eyes narrowed even further. “It’s either on or off. I can’t make it go slower or faster. Karen and Killian will be with you in a moment.” With that, she scurried back to her desk.
A man and a woman appeared in front of us, each carrying a tub of water. We had already removed our sandals, so they dipped our feet in the water. Killian made to sponge mine, but I said, “You can’t touch my feet. They’re ticklish. You can touch my toes, that’s all.”
Killian gingerly sponged my toes. I expected he had been kicked in the face by someone with ticklish feet before. Maybe it was a typical trade hazard. I wondered how to start speaking as Aunt Agnes and I had not formed a plan on the way over, but Aunt Agnes broke the ice. “Mrs Mumbles recommended you,” she said.
Killian stopped washing my toes and looked shocked. I wondered if Mrs Mumbles had ever had a pedicure.
Aunt Agnes must have been thinking the same thing as she hastened to add, “I don’t know if she’s ever had a pedicure here, but we asked her where to get a pedicure and she recommended the two of you. I don’t know if she was speaking from direct experience or whether one of her customers had said this was the place to come.”
I thought she had gone a little far covering up. It did sound suspicious to me and both Killian and Karen did seem a little tense, but that might have been my imagination.
“Have you had a pedicure before?” Karen asked Aunt Agnes.
“Not for a century or so,” Aunt Agnes said.
Karen laughed, but I knew Aunt Agnes wasn’t joking. “And where are you from?” She addressed the question to me.
“I’m from Sydney,” I told them.
“So you’ve moved here permanently from Sydney?” Killian asked me.
“Yes, this is my Aunt Agnes. I came here to help my aunts with their Bed and Breakfast.”
“The Jasper sisters, isn’t it?” Karen said.
Aunt Agnes nodded. “Yes, one of our boarders was murdered,” she blurted out. “He was an orchid grower by the name of Ethelbert Jones. I believe you knew him.”
Killian was massaging my toes. He paused for a moment. “We were in the orchid club together,” he said. “I’ve known him for years.”
“I’ve never met him,” Karen said. “I’m not particularly fond of orchids, or any plants for that matter.” Her face flushed bright red and I wondered what was going on.
“The police suspect my Aunt Agnes of murdering him,” I said, going along with the story we had concocted for Mrs Mumbles.
“You don’t have to tell everyone,” Aunt Agnes said in a fake scolding tone.
I pretended to be contrite. “Sorry, Aunt Agnes.”
“Why would the police suspect you?” Killian asked her.
“Because I discovered his body,” Aunt Agnes said. “Please don’t think I’m rude, but he was a most unpleasant man. He didn’t like pets. Please forgive me. I hope I haven’t offended you. I hope he wasn’t a close friend or anything like that.”
“Not at all, not at all,” Killian said. “We were in the same orchid club for years, but he wasn’t a friend or anything like that. Do you say he didn’t like pets?”
“Yes, he sent us several emails saying he couldn’t have any pets around, and when he arrived, he said the same thing over and over again,” Aunt Agnes said. “What sort of person doesn’t like pets? Oh, do forgive me again. I always put my foot in it. I hope the two of you like pets.”
Karen hurried to reassure her. “Yes, we both love pets, don’t we Killian?”
“Indeed we do,” he said. “We have two Maltese terriers, as well as a Ragdoll cat.”
“How lovely,” I said, wondering how we were going to find out any further information. I had no idea how to bring up the mealy bugs.
“Well, since the police think it was me, I’m trying to find out who really did do it,” Aunt Agnes said. “Did he have any enemies?�
�
Killian looked up at her. “I don’t really know if he had any enemies, but he did have a falling out with Alec Aldon. He sold him a vintage car and said it had never been in an accident, but it fell in half or something.”
“Fell in half?” I repeated.
He stopped massaging my toes and looked up at me. “I don’t know if it literally fell in half, but that’s what the word around town was. Do you know Alec Aldon?”
“Oh yes, we’ve met,” I said. “Could Mr Jones have had any other enemies? It doesn’t seem like much of a motive for murder.”
“Yes, there’s Joyce Batson, the antique dealer,” he said. “He sold her something fake. I can’t remember what it was now.”
“It was a painting,” his wife supplied, “but I don’t think we should be gossiping. We should leave it to the police.”
Aunt Agnes sighed. “If the police suspect me, then clearly they’re not doing their job as I know for certain I didn’t do it. I need to find out who did it.”
Karen simply nodded.
“What about his wife?” Killian said.
“Have you met his wife?” I asked him.
Killian shook his head. “Ethelbert Jones mentioned her from time to time, but she never once attended an orchid show. He was a wealthy man and not a terribly pleasant one, so perhaps she did away with him for his inheritance.”
“Well surely she would have murdered him years ago if that were the case,” Aunt Agnes said.
“Maybe something finally pushed her over the edge.” Karen shot a sideways look at her husband. He scowled at her in response.
So I hadn’t been imagining it—these two seemed slightly snarky with each other, or at least Karen was a little snarky towards Killian. That wasn’t suspicious in itself—no doubt every woman feels that way towards her husband from time to time, but it did make me wonder.
Karen said to Aunt Agnes, “I’ll let your feet soak for a little while.”
Killian stood up and repeated those words to me. As he went to leave, Aunt Agnes stopped him. “Do you mind me asking one more question?”
“Of course not,” he said.
“Do you think Mrs Mumbles could have killed Ethelbert?”