“Stick to the facts, Miss Reinhardt. What were they arguing about?”
“Honestly? I can’t tell you.”
“You have to tell me,” he said, all of a sudden so loud and intense that she flinched.
“I mean, I can’t tell you because I don’t know. It was some deep, spiritual, philosophical principle thing. I didn’t really get it.”
“Fine,” he said. “What about the other people? What was she like with them?”
“Meredith seemed kind of sharp with her assistant George, the one who was crying a lot, and dismissive of her husband Charles. The other two, Terah, and the businessman guy… um, Royston… she was fine to them.”
“And to you?”
Roxy thought about the book in her bag. “Actually, she was quite… erm, taken with me. She invited me along to this séance because she said the spirits wanted me there.”
“The spirits wanted you there?” Trudeau smirked. “Okaaaay.”
“Well, I don’t know much about all that, spirits and stuff, but she took an interest in me, and considering she was my special guest, at the hotel I mean, I thought I had better honor her wishes…I mean, the spirits’ wishes.”
Trudeau was listening carefully to her now, genuinely interested. “Hmmm, you’ve got business sense, I will say. I could never work in hospitality. All that pandering.”
“I prefer to see it as kindness.”
Trudeau shrugged, “Kindness don’t solve crimes.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“So tell me what happened in the room before the victim was shot?”
“It happened very quickly. There were six of us there. It was completely black. You couldn’t see a thing, not a thing. Then just a couple of minutes in, there was a bang and silence. Dr. Jack turned on the light, and there was Meredith on the floor, dead. There was a gun on the table. That was it, really.”
“And for those couple of minutes, what was happening?”
“We were seated around the table, and um, well, Meredith started talking.”
“To who?”
“To, um…the spirits.”
Trudeau looked up from his notes, one eyebrow raised. Roxy shrugged and pressed her lips together. She did sound crazy, she knew it, but it was the truth.
Trudeau asked Roxy a few more questions, but she had nothing to add, so he let her go. She left the restroom, the door swinging behind her, and joined the others who were waiting in the shop.
“Was it really bad?” Dr. Jack whispered to her. “Are you okay?”
“It was fine, really,” said Roxy, placing a hand on his forearm. “I’m so sorry this happened here, Dr. Jack. You must feel awful.”
He looked pained. “The Universe has a reason for everything. Even though sometimes it is difficult to fathom what that reason might be.”
Roxy nodded, unsure what to think.
Trudeau called in Royston Lamontagne. “Not the dog, thanks.”
Lamontagne handed his little dog to Terah, who immediately started stroking Fenton’s head and talking baby talk to him.
While she waited to be dismissed, Roxy sat down behind the counter and called Nat to let her know what was going on and why she wasn’t back. “You’ll have to get all the dinner preparations finished up without me,” she said. “It looks like I’m going to be here a while. I’m sure we’ll be back soon, but it’s…” She looked up at Charles and George and lowered her voice. “Well, the joyous, welcome party idea that we had in mind isn’t going to be appropriate, obviously.”
After Trudeau was finished with Lamontagne, the others traipsed into the bathroom in turn as Trudeau called their name—Terah, then George, Charles, and finally Dr. Jack. There was nothing at all to do while they waited. Roxy sat with her thoughts, but her mind kept going back to the image of Meredith lying dead on the floor. She tried to distract herself by reading Meredith’s book, but she couldn’t concentrate and was reduced to skimming the pages, taking in very little before she would find herself replaying the scene of Meredith’s shooting in her mind.
“Roxy, do you know?” It was Terah. She pointed. “Are those real human skulls?”
“I don’t think so,” said Roxy with a shudder. “I sure hope not. I’m pretty sure Dr. Jack wouldn’t have real ones in here. Would that even be allowed?”
“Some practitioners of dark magic do use real skulls,” Charles interjected, his voice monotone as he stared into space. “Perhaps we’ve stumbled onto a dark wizard.”
“Surely not,” Roxy said quickly. The idea hadn’t even occurred to her. “Not Dr. Jack. That’s just something from storybooks, right? It can’t be real.”
“Unfortunately, it is,” said Charles. “There are bad people in this world, Roxy. People with malevolent intentions.” He nodded toward the back room. “Obviously.”
CHAPTER SIX
OFFICER TRUDEAU FINISHED his questioning and stood guard at the doorway to the botanica, waiting for his superior’s return.
Johnson arrived some ten minutes later, looking happier than Roxy had ever seen him. “Right,” he said, addressing Trudeau, and ignoring everyone else. “Get yourself outside and tell me your findings.”
“I don’t think that it’s very professional to…” Trudeau began until he saw the dark stormy expression that formed on Johnson’s face.
“Listen, I am the lead detective here,” Johnson said. “Whatever I do is, by default, professional, got it?”
Reluctantly Trudeau followed Johnson outside and the two men spoke for a while. Roxy watched them through the glass doors. They were gesticulating and mouthing noiselessly while tension mounted inside the store as the minutes ticked by. Who was the killer? Did the police know? Would they let everyone go? Would they arrest someone? Would they arrest everyone? Roxy bit her lip. Of course, she knew she was innocent, but Johnson was always suspicious of her, and if she weren’t the murderer, which one of her companions was? It had to be one of them.
She looked at them all. Dr. Jack was behind the counter closing out the register for the day. Terah sat sideways on a chair, her legs crossed, her foot jiggling. She scratched her face where the strap of her eye patch met her hairline. Lamontagne leaned against a wall, scrolling on his phone, occasionally kissing the fur between the ears of his little dog which he still held under his arm. Charles sat on a plastic chair next to Lamontagne. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped between them, staring into space, unseeing. George sat on the floor against the wall. He quietly sipped from a bottle of water, his face red, but blank, occasionally flicking his eyes to look at the two detectives standing outside.
Through the window, Trudeau and Johnson seemed to come to a decision. Trudeau pulled out his handcuffs. Roxy tensed and inhaled. When Johnson forcefully opened the door and strode through it, everyone looked up. Immediately they were all alert. Even Lamontagne looked up from his phone. Fenton yipped.
“Jack! Come here!” Johnson pointed at a spot on the floor in front of him.
Dr. Jack moved from behind the counter and walked easily to stand in front of the detective. Johnson quickly grabbed the botanica owner by the shoulders while Trudeau scurried behind him and slapped on handcuffs.
“What? Wait…”
“Jack Lavantille, you are arrested on suspicion of murder,” Trudeau said.
“What?” Roxy said moving over to the trio. “On what basis?” She looked wildly between the two policemen. “It can’t be Dr. Jack! He would never do such a thing.” The men ignored her.
Trudeau continued, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be obtained for you before police questioning.”
“What are you doing? I didn’t kill Meredith,” Dr. Jack said desperately, looking at George and Charles. “I didn’t, I swear.” His expression was open, his eyebrows high. He shrugged as he stood with his hands behind his back.
&nb
sp; Johnson snorted as Trudeau grabbed Jack by the upper arms and pushed him toward the door.
“I am a man of the light!” Dr. Jack shouted behind him to the group who were now standing together in the middle of the store as Trudeau led him away. “I would never kill anyone!”
“Man of the what?” said Johnson. Then he waved. “The rest of you are free to go.”
“Roxy, lock up my store!” Dr. Jack called behind him.
“Don’t worry, Dr. Jack!” she called back.
“You’ll do no such thing,” said Johnson. “The forensics team is still in the backroom, they’ll lock up when they’re done, and I don’t want to see or hear another peep out of you, Ms. Reinhardt. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Roxy followed Johnson outside.
“I swear, Roxy, I didn’t do it!” said Dr. Jack, as Trudeau pushed his head down, guiding him into the back of the squad car.
“I believe you!” Roxy said. “Don’t worry, this will get sorted out!”
“Tell Sage!”
“Yes, of course.” Roxy’s words faded on her lips as the patrol car door slammed shut.
But as Roxy stood on the botanica steps and watched the squad car drive away, she questioned what she’d just said. How could she believe Dr. Jack so readily? She barely knew him, and she’d been around long enough to know people were not always what and who they seemed. As she thought, a black town car pulled up. She was roughly pushed aside as Royston Lamontagne passed her, obviously eager to get away. He jumped in the car, and with a squeal of tires, the car zoomed off, Fenton’s tiny, beady brown eyes watching her steadily out of the window.
Roxy went back inside the botanica and saw Terah leaning over Charles, her arm on his shoulder. She was saying something to him quietly, and after Charles nodded briefly, she walked to the door, her arms now folded. “I’m off,” she said. She lifted her hand and pointed her car keys in the direction of a sedan that was parked across the road.
“Bye, Terah,” Roxy said gently and watched as the woman crossed the street, climbed in her car, and drove off. There was a noise beside her and she turned to see Charles, Meredith’s husband, staring at the back of Terah’s car.
“They’re all gone,” Charles said. His voice was feeble. He sounded broken.
Seeing the devastated man next to her, Roxy pinched herself. She needed to take action. She didn’t have time to ruminate or hesitate, for that matter.
“Charles,” she said. “I’m going to ring Sam. He owns the Funky Cat with me. He will collect us and take us back to the hotel. You can go to your rooms and regroup. In a while, if you’re up to it, we can have dinner. You can eat in your rooms, or downstairs, or whatever you like. Or, obviously, if you’d rather not eat at all, that’s fine. We were going to play some live jazz music for you afterward, but, um, in the circumstances, it’s entirely up to you. Whatever makes you feel comfortable. We’re here to take care of you.”
George joined them. The two men both looked terrible. George had awful bloodshot eyes from all his crying while Charles was so white his skin looked almost transparent.
“Okay,” George said tearfully. He could barely stand. Charles, clearly beyond words, just nodded.
Roxy felt awful for both of them. “Just a moment or two,” she said. “Sam will be here soon. The hotel isn’t far away.”
She made the call, and they stood waiting for Sam in silence. The two men looked like complete zombies, but Roxy was beginning to feel nervous. Her mind was racing. What if Johnson and Trudeau were wrong about Dr. Jack? What was going to happen next? Was she going back to the hotel with a killer? Two even? Questions whirled through her head, but she stuck out her chin and put a brave face on for her two guests.
Thankfully, Sam was as quick as she’d promised he’d be. As he got out of the Rolls Royce, his face was a picture of sorrow and concern. “I’m so, so sorry about what happened,” he said to them. “I can’t even begin to imagine what has happened here this evening.”
“Thank you,” Charles said in a monotone.
George began to cry again, then sniffed and shuddered as he repressed more tears.
Sam opened the back doors for the two of them. He mouthed over the top of the car to Roxy. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and got into the front passenger seat next to him. As usual, jazz was on the radio, but Sam quickly turned it off, and it was a smooth, mournful, silent ride back to the Funky Cat Inn.
When they got to the cobbled street where the hotel stood opposite Elijah’s Bakery, Sam pulled right up to the entrance. Elijah looked out of the window as they drove past, and immediately came out and walked up to the car, his purple zebra-print shirt making Roxy squint. “Our new guests!” he said gleefully. “I’m Elijah, owner of this here bakery! So pleased to…” He stuck out his hand then noticed their glum faces. His hand sprung back. “What’s happened? Somebody kill your cat?”
Roxy winced.
“Elijah,” Sam said firmly as he got out of the car. He planted a strong hand on Elijah’s shoulder and took him aside to discreetly explain what was going on.
“Sorry about that,” Roxy said to George and Charles. “Everyone was excited to meet you. Obviously, the news hasn’t spread yet. I do apologize.”
“It’s nobody’s fault,” said Charles.
“Please, come inside,” said Roxy. “I can show you up to your rooms, your bags will be there. Charles, I can move you to a different room if you wish. So you don’t have to have the room you would have shared…”
“It’s okay, Roxy. Our original room will be fine. Staying there will help me to feel close to Meredith.” It was the most Charles had spoken since Meredith’s death.
“Yes, well, okay, you can decide whether you want to come down for dinner or have it upstairs, or not at all. Whatever you prefer.”
“You’re a very kind spirit,” said George. “Thank you, Roxy.”
“Not at all,” Roxy said.
Roxy’s cat, Nefertiti, met them at the door, meowing plaintively at Roxy, wondering why she had been so late.
“Sorry, Neffi,” Roxy whispered, bending down to give her a quick tickle under the chin. “Plans changed. I’ll come back and feed you in a moment or two. Just wait a sec.”
Roxy showed George and Charles up to their rooms. Opening the door to Charles’s bedroom, she felt a horrible tug on her heart. She looked at the bed where Meredith Romanoff should have been sleeping that night. It was all so very, very sad. She glanced at Charles. He’d hesitated at the doorway and was surveying the bed too. She saw him grimace before he gathered himself and stepped inside the room.
After she’d made sure the two men were settled in, Roxy gratefully went downstairs. She wanted to go to her room to rest and collect herself, but as she descended the stairs, she stopped mid-flight. Five pairs of wide eyes stared up at her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“WHAT’S GOING ON?” Evangeline asked.
“Sam said Meredith Romanoff has been shot!” Sage exclaimed.
“Are the police coming?” a voice piped up. It came from Nat.
“Sorry if I put my foot in it.” That was Elijah.
“Are you alright?” Sam asked.
They all crowded around her as she reached the last step. Nat, her assistant and Girl Friday, reached out to hug Roxy. Roxy gratefully allowed herself to be enveloped by her tattooed, pierced, grunge-clad, English friend. As Nat released her, it was Sage’s turn. Sage was wearing her trademark robes, this time in summer-pink, a shade that matched the ribbons that were threaded through her dreadlocks. She was good friends with Dr. Jack.
Evangeline patted Roxy’s arm. This gesture from the elderly woman who used to own the hotel when it was a guesthouse was an unusually warm expression of affection. Elijah kissed Roxy on both cheeks and whispered, “Sorry again,” in her ear while Sam stood stoically to one side.
“Thank you, everyone. It’s been an unpleasant evening. Will you let me have a few moments in private, and then I will
be happy to answer all your questions.” Roxy smiled weakly, and the crowd parted to let her pass. She walked over to the door that led to her private quarters, and in silence, went inside and closed the door. She sat down on the bed and put her head in her hands.
As she sat there, Roxy felt something small and moist nudge at her knuckles. She didn’t look up. Momentarily, she felt another poke. It was sharper, more emphatic this time, and accompanied by a buzzing sound that sounded like a particularly insistent, and slightly asthmatic bee. Roxy’s white puffball of a kitty, Nefertiti, was now wiping her cheeks against Roxy’s hand. She wasn’t going to give up. Finally, Roxy looked up and gave her cat a weak smile before scooping her into her lap.
“Oh, Nef-nef, life isn’t straightforward is it? When we got up this morning, who’d have thought that a few hours later we’d be in the middle of another murder investigation?” Roxy gave a big sigh and lay her cheek down on Nefertiti’s back. Her fur was as soft and as white as a cloud and was as comforting as always. Roxy closed her eyes for a moment.
She didn’t allow herself to relax for long, though. Roxy fed Nefertiti quickly, and while her fluffy cat wolfed down her food, Roxy freshened herself up. She washed her face and scrubbed hard at her cheeks as though by doing so she could erase the evening’s devastating events. She soaped and washed her hands three times before drying them and going back into the bedroom. She looked around and started to pace. She went back and forth quickly. It wasn’t a very big room. Nefertiti trailed behind her, mewing. Roxy nearly tripped over her as she turned.
“Meeeooowwwww!” Nefertiti said impatiently.
“Sorry, sorry!”
Roxy bent down and scooped Nefertiti up again. “Oof, you’re getting heavy. You need to get out more, Nef-nef. Less food, more action. Now come on, we need to face everyone. I’ll feel better if I do.” Roxy put her cat down and made sure to walk in front of her, confident that Nefertiti would follow her wherever she went. And indeed she did. One behind the other, the cat behind her owner, they left the room.
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