by Cindy Stark
Peter took her hand as they approached the door, and he lifted a finger and pressed the doorbell. They waited, focused on the door. A few moments later, the doorknob turned, and Susan greeted them with a kind, but curious smile.
“Peter. Hazel. How nice to see you. What brings you to my house today?”
She stepped back to allow them to enter.
Peter held the door and let Hazel precede him inside. Once there, they stopped and faced Susan, giving her a chance to shut the door before they spoke.
Peter squeezed her hand a little tighter, and she knew this was the part of his job he hated the most. “I’m here on official business, Susan.”
She looked at Peter in confusion, and then the color drained from her face.
“Something has happened,” Peter continued. “It’s John. We found him unresponsive out by Redemption Pond. I’m sorry to tell you that he’s dead.”
Susan gasped and clawed at the high neck on her lavender sweater.
Hazel released Peter’s hand and took Susan’s elbow. “Come with me. Let’s sit down.”
She flicked a glance at Peter, wishing he’d been gentler in the telling, but, really, there was no such thing. “Could you get her a glass of water?” she asked instead.
Hazel led her toward the couch, and Susan walked woodenly beside her. “I don’t understand. How can he be dead?” Her whispered words were hoarse and stunned.
She helped the bereaved woman sit on the couch, and then Hazel sat next to her, taking Susan’s cold hand between hers. “I don’t understand, either. But I’m sure Peter and his crew are doing a thorough investigation.”
Susan blinked back furious tears. “He… I…”
She collapsed into a wail that left her struggling for breaths.
Peter appeared with a full glass of water, and Hazel indicated with a nod that he should set it on the side table next to the couch. He crouched in front of Susan and placed a large hand on her shoulder. “I won’t rest until I get to the bottom of this, Susan.”
She lifted her tear-stained gaze. “Was he murdered? Shot? Something that happened on duty?”
Peter shook his head. The mournful expression on his face broke Hazel’s heart. “He didn’t report for duty this morning, Susan. When was the last time you saw him?”
She cried harder, and several minutes passed before she was able to speak again. Hazel plied her with handfuls of tissues and softly patted her back as she expelled her grief.
“He didn’t come home last night,” she finally managed. “We’d had a fight the night before that. At Cora’s. And then at home. He left in the middle of the night, and I haven’t seen him since.”
Susan bent forward and dissolved into more tears.
Hazel glanced to Peter. A deep current of understanding flowed between them.
She placed a comforting hand on Susan’s back. Smooth cashmere greeted her touch, and Hazel focused on accepting as much of Susan’s grief as she could handle. “Is there someone we could call?” she asked softly.
“Your brother?” Peter offered.
Hazel hadn’t known Susan had a brother, but Peter had watched over the townsfolk for years longer than Hazel had lived there, and his knowing her family was one more indicator that he cared about Stonebridge’s citizens with his whole heart.
Susan nodded, and Peter stood. He moved to the edge of the room and punched in a number on his phone. He paused a moment, and then spoke in a low voice. “Margaret? I need you to find the number for Eddy Jackson. Let him know that there’s an emergency, and he’s needed at his sister’s house. I’ll hold while you call.”
A tense hush filled the small living room. Hazel wasn’t sure if Susan had listened to Peter’s conversation like she had, or if she was too caught up in her grief.
He murmured his thanks a few minutes later and disconnected the call. With soft footsteps, he returned to them. “He’s on his way. Should be here shortly.”
Susan glanced between them. Pain radiated from her irises and red blotches marred her pale white skin. “What am I going to do without him?”
Hazel’s heart ached for the poor woman. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t think of that now. You’ll only torture yourself. Breathe and focus on getting through the next minute. The rest can wait.”
She managed to get Susan calmed enough to drink a few swallows of water before her brother arrived. Then the sobbing started once again.
More than six-foot tall with a full head of dark hair and linebacker shoulders, Eddy Jackson demanded more from Peter than Susan had. “I want to know what happened. You found him by Redemption Pond…and what? Drowned? Shot? What?”
She felt the tension increase in Peter, but he held a steady gaze, appearing unruffled. “We haven’t completed a full investigation yet. We thought it best to notify Mrs. Bartles before word reached her otherwise.”
Eddy gave a wide, sweeping gesture with his hand. “We? You say we? I thought you were the chief of police. Aren’t you the one who makes the decisions?”
Peter’s jaw hardened. Hazel ached to reach out and soothe him, but circumstances prevented it. “Yes, Mr. Jackson. I am the chief of police, the man in charge.”
Eddy inhaled and puffed out his chest. “Then tell me what happened to my brother-in-law.”
Peter glanced once at Susan, who also looked at him expectantly. “Initial investigation suggests John Bartles, one of my officers I’ll remind you, may have died by carbon monoxide poisoning. Suicide.”
A pregnant hush fell over the room, and then Susan sucked in a strangled breath. “God help me. I did this to him.”
Two large steps brought Eddy within inches of his sister. Hazel quickly stood, and he dropped on the couch in her place. He cradled his sister in his arms, and Hazel’s initial assessment, that he was something of a jerk, softened. “What on earth are you talking about? You didn’t do this to him.”
Susan jerked her head up and down. “We fought. I told him he disgusted me.”
He took her face in his meaty fist and forced her to look at him. “Don’t you say such things.”
She pulled away and sobbed. “He cheated on me. Stole our savings.”
Eddy released her chin and shifted his gaze to beyond her shoulder. “Then he deserves to be dead.”
Susan looked at him in horror. “But I did it. When I confronted him, he turned cold, so cold. I felt like I didn’t know him anymore. I told him to get out.”
Her breaths came hard and fast, and Hazel feared she’d hyperventilate. “My damning words were too much for him. Oh, God. I drove him to kill himself.”
Peter caught Hazel’s gaze, and he pleaded with her for help. The man was amazing with forensic science and criminals, but weeping females did him in.
Hazel knelt in front of Susan, ignoring her overbearing brother. “That’s enough of that kind of talk, Susan. You’re jumping to conclusions, and we’re not certain of anything yet. Maybe someone made it look like a suicide.”
Another hush rolled over the room, and she realized her blunder. In an effort to make Susan feel better, she might have made everything worse. “Not that I’m insinuating that’s what happened. Just that we don’t have all the details yet.”
She didn’t dare look at Peter, wouldn’t be able to stand the disappointment she might find. “As an officer’s wife, you must know the importance of looking at all the facts. John was one of Peter’s men, and you know Peter looks out for everyone. He’ll stay on this, make sure everyone else does, too, until he knows the full details. So, please don’t beat yourself up. This isn’t your fault. If it was actually suicide, that’s a decision John made.”
Susan cried harder, curling into a ball and falling over on her brother’s lap.
Eddy gazed at her with hard eyes. “I think the two of you have done enough damage. Leave me with my sister. I’ll take care of her.”
Hazel knew Susan required a softer touch, and she wanted to argue with Eddy, but she also knew it would be
pointless. She and Peter had no right to be in Susan’s home, and her brother had just given them notice to leave.
She pressed a comforting hand on Susan’s arm. “We’ll go then and leave you with family. I’ll check back to make sure you’re okay.”
Susan continued to sob.
“Don’t bother,” Eddy said. “She has her family now. That’s all she needs. You can find your way to the door.”
Still, she hesitated. Something about this situation felt wrong, all wrong. She’d messed up, and it wasn’t in her to leave until she’d had a chance to fix it.
Peter placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hazel,” he said softly. “Let’s go.”
Tears of sorrow and regret filled her eyes. She glanced toward Eddy’s hardened face and then accepted Peter’s proffered hand and stood. Quietly, he led her to the door.
Crisp autumn air soothed her, and Peter closed the door behind them. He placed a hand around her waist and guided her to his waiting car. He paused before opening the passenger door. “I shouldn’t have asked this of you.”
She glanced up at him in confusion. “Of course, you should have. I wanted to be there for her, to offer comfort.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t fair to stress you like that. It’s my job to give bad news, not yours.”
She blinked rapidly, and wet lashes hit her cheeks. “You’re angry because I said something I shouldn’t.”
He leaned toward her until his forehead touched hers. “No. You did great, the best you could under circumstances. I know you were only trying to help.”
“But I should have stuck with the facts.”
He didn’t respond.
Her defense system rocketed into place. “Sometimes, there are more than just the absolute facts to consider. You don’t have all the answers, yet.”
“No, but that wasn’t the time to discuss them. We’ll tell Susan what we know when we know.”
She moved her head to his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”
He kissed her and didn’t resume their conversation until they were both in the car. “You might not have helped Susan. Nothing probably would at this point. But, you did manage to get us more information that might help.”
She shifted her gaze to him. “About their fight?”
“Yeah. That and Eddy’s reaction to the news. I think this might not have been the first time he’s heard about John’s infidelities. There was no surprise or outrage in his expression when she mentioned it. Only nervousness and possibly fear.”
Intrigue jumped to life. “You think he knew. Are you suggesting that if John’s death wasn’t a suicide that he might be involved?”
Peter shrugged and started the engine. “I’m suggesting that we shouldn’t make any conclusions before we have all the facts. I’m also suggesting that we might have more to investigate than we’d realized before. John’s had his share of ups and downs through the years, but I never pegged him as one who struggled with mental health. He might have hidden it, or this might be something more.”
She nodded as thoughts churned in her head. “Sounds like we have some work to do.”
He smiled, and relief washed over her. “Sounds like we do.”
Chapter Ten
Hazel rang Cora’s doorbell and glanced around while she waited for her friend to answer. Afternoon sun glinted off vibrant pumpkins of all sizes that flanked both sides of her door like fat orange soldiers. Some sat on small hay bales, while others rested next to clay pots stuffed with sunny gold and fiery red chrysanthemums. The highlight was a friendly scarecrow wearing a green plaid shirt and denim jeans that welcomed visitors.
She longed to do something similar to her porch. Despite all the ugliness around them, Cora had remembered to bring sunshine to her life. Hazel could take a lesson from that.
The door opened, and Cora smiled a genuine smile, even if it wasn’t as big as usual.
Hazel held out a plastic-covered dish. “I made you an English coffee cake.”
Cora’s eyes widened in delight, and her smile grew a bit bigger. She stepped back to let her enter. “Thank you. It looks amazing.”
Hazel stepped across the threshold, passing through numerous protective wards that were hard to ignore. “When your best friend is the most amazing cook, it’s hard not to pick up a few hints.”
Cora gave a soft laugh and closed the door. She led the way to the kitchen and Hazel followed. Her friend had used the delightful combination of sage and blueberry colors to decorate the room, and they went perfectly with dark colored cabinets. A twinge of kitchen envy pinched her.
Copper pots hung above the stove, and pots of rosemary and basil flourished near the sink, surrounding Hazel with an earthy, wonderful scent. “I love that you’re an earth witch, too.”
Cora smiled and set the coffee cake on the counter. “That’s why we get along so famously.”
Emotion sprang to the surface. “I’m such an idiot, Cora. I can’t believe I’d ever do something that might endanger our friendship. My only excuse is that I was so overwhelmed by what I’d learned that I wasn’t thinking straight. I wanted to figure things out before I involved anyone else.”
Cora opened her arms, and Hazel stepped into her embrace for a warm hug. “It’s okay. I’ve forgiven you.”
Hazel stepped back and blinked away traces of tears. “You have? Already, my heart feels whole again.”
Cora shrugged. “It took some time, but I worked to see things from your point of view. I’m not sure I would have made the same decision, but I understand why you did. I’m tied closely to the coven and have a fair amount of loyalty to those women. I think you know I’d never betray a confidence, but sometimes we overthink things and make them worse than they are.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
She chuckled. “We should cut your cake. I can start a pot of coffee, if you like. Or you know, I have all your teas.”
“Actually, coffee does sound good, and it’s hard to pass up a cup of yours.”
Hazel let the atmosphere settle and retrieved plum dessert plates from the cupboard while Cora brewed coffee. When they were seated at the table with their afternoon treats, Hazel decided now was as good as ever to question her friend. “Obviously, making sure our friendship was intact was the most important reason I stopped by, but I have another concern I wanted to talk to you about.”
Cora lifted a brow. “What’s that?”
“Some of this is confidential information that you can’t share, but I need your thoughts on John’s death. Just so you know, I probably shouldn’t have, but I went to Redemption Pond the day they found John Bartles’ body.”
Cora snorted. “Of course, you did.”
Hazel shot her a snarky look and then continued. “I couldn’t get as close as I would have liked, but I saw something odd. A pyramid of small rocks had been placed not far from where he died. Reminded me of a ceremony I once read about. The pyramid could help conjure powers.”
Color faded from Cora’s cheeks. “Oh, dear. Are you thinking someone in the coven might have murdered John?”
Hazel shrugged. “I don’t know. Right now, everything else is pointing toward suicide. The fight with his wife. The circumstances of his death, but something in my gut tells me that ending his life wasn’t his choice.
She paused for a breath. “Do you think someone in the coven might have had something to do with it? I’d ask all the others myself except, as you well know, I’m still on the fringes with most of them. They won’t even let me take a shift with Fauna.”
Cora sat for a thoughtful moment. “Obviously, no one has said anything to me, and I haven’t heard any whisperings. Granted, they’re all happy that he’s one less danger to them, and they fully believe he hurt Fauna.”
Hazel nodded. “What about a pyramid of rocks?”
“Throughout the ages, people have used pyramids for many things, some of them relating to death. They do channel a certain power. I’ve never messed
with accessing the dead unless it was a ghost like your grandmother who is already in this plane of existence. Otherwise, I say let them rest. I don’t want anyone bugging me once I’ve passed. Troubled spirits are never a good thing.”
Hazel snorted. “You’re telling me. I couldn’t get any sleep last night because Clarabelle was in a restless mood. Cupboards opened and shut. Footsteps up and down the stairs. I feel like she was looking for something, but I have no idea what.”
Cora smiled, lifted her cup, and sipped. “The drawback to living in such a beautiful home. One day, you’ll find a way to help her rest.”
“Yeah. I keep hoping if the town learns to get along, she might discover some peace and move on. I would miss her, but she deserves to rest.”
“Absolutely.” She forked in a bit of cake. “By the way, this tastes amazing.”
Hazel smiled. “Coming from a pro, that’s a sweet compliment.”
Cora pushed back from the table, her chair legs scraping against the wooden floor. “That reminds me. I have some petit fours I created that I want you to try. I thought they would be perfect to serve at your wedding. I made them the other night when I couldn’t sleep and froze them to keep them fresh.”
She walked to the freezer and pulled out a plastic bag that covered a plateful of chocolate and white smooth-frosted squares. She brought it to the table and set it between them. “The wedding ones will have tiny decorations on them, of course, but this will give you an idea of how they’ll taste. We’ll let them thaw for a minute before you test them.”
“Oh, my goodness. They’re adorable. And I’m sure they’ll taste divine. Thank you so much for agreeing to cater the desserts. It’s a lot to ask you to be my maid of honor and provide food, too.”
Cora waved away her comments. “Everything can be made beforehand, and Bertie will handle stuff on your wedding day, so I can enjoy my time with you.”
Hazel shook her head in amazement. “It’s coming so fast. Before long, I’ll be Mrs. Peter Parrish.”