Brewing the Midnight Oil
Page 10
“That makes no damn sense. That’s the time when business booms!” Gus fumed.
“Or fails,” Lola spoke.
He shot her a look. “Okay, sure, there were a few months there with the no-fly-zones and all when times were tough.”
“Bleak,” she said.
“What did you do, woman?” he said through his teeth.
Lola tucked into her eggs. “Why, not a thing, Augustus.”
Ivy eyed the coffee carafe on the tray and pointed to a cup, looking a question at Tanner. He frowned, but poured her a cup. She sipped it. Ick. It was some kind of weak grocery store coffee. Still, it was caffeine. “What she did was secure her daughters’ futures, or so she thought.”
Lola gave Ivy a dirty look, but continued eating her breakfast.
“Apparently, no one noticed the tiara had been swapped for a replica for all these years. It didn’t really become a huge concern until the twelve million dollar offer came along.” Ivy waited for a response. No one spoke.
“Twelve million dollars?” One of the girls, Ivy didn’t know if it was Tiffany or Briana, gasped.
“That’s right,” Ivy said. “But you girls weren’t going to see any of that. Not like it mattered. You’d inherit this house, your daddy’s business, all of it.”
“Inherit?” Gus’ face lost enough color to show the ruddy patches of sunburn like stains.
Ivy sipped more coffee, and tried not to make a face. “Well, yeah. I looked at your divorce papers, and, sorry about all that. But given that Bronwyn was featured prominently as a homewrecker, I couldn’t figure out why you two were buddy-buddy. Especially not when you and Gus shared custody of the girls.”
“What are you getting at?” Lola said. “People can change.”
“Sure they can. But you’ve got a nice place, a pool, all that. You got it with the divorce settlement. Why are you at a breakfast pool party with your ex and his homewrecker wife?”
Bronwyn spoke without moving. “I’m sure you have some fascinating answer. Can we have the guards take them away now, sugar plum?”
“Hell no,” Gus said. “I wanna hear this.”
“The reason is simple. Bronwyn found a buyer for the tiara, and talked Gus into selling. The tiara was nowhere to be found. But Lola, as Tanner said, was the only one who ever showed any interest in it before the theft was discovered.” Ivy set the half-empty cup down. Yuck. “You needed each other.”
“For what, exactly?” Lola said.
Ivy gave her a hard look. “To murder Gus.”
“Murder?” Bronwyn finally stirred. She sat up and whipped off her sunglasses. Of course, the woman didn’t even have a reverse raccoon suntan. “You are out of your ever loving mind, sweetheart.”
“The perfect murder, really.” Ivy saw Everett give her a doubtful look. She kept going. “Here’s how it was supposed to work. With the tiara apparently stolen, it gave you two the opportunity. Lola was sure that it could never be found, because of Tanner’s help. Bronwyn wanted to hire a detective to close the case as soon as possible.”
“And what a spectacular choice we made.” Bronwyn narrowed her lids at Everett.
“Given that nobody actually knew when the tiara was stolen, we shouldn’t have been able to solve it. And since you knew where the real tiara was, it was even that more difficult. After we failed, the cops weren’t going to look at it any harder. The insurance would pay off. Gus’s business would have suffered a huge blow, given security concerns. Most importantly, with no tiara, the trust that holds it would have been dissolved. That would make Gus the owner of the Queen’s Dowry Tiara.”
“And subject to the curse,” Gus whispered. His eyes shifted between his current and former wives. He shoveled some food in his mouth for comfort. After chewing, his face screwed up. “Ya’ll were out to get me!”
“With a curse?” Bronwyn folded her arms beneath her perfect boobs. “That’s the silliest thing I ever heard!”
“Mama?” Either Tiffany or Briana gave her mother a frightened look.
“That’s so idiotic, it would never fly in court. I’d demand my money back from these shysters,” Lola said. She put her arm around her daughter. “Don’t listen to the crazy lady, baby.”
“Maybe I couldn’t prove it in a court of law, but I bet I could erase any shadow of a doubt.” Ivy reached into her purse. Morning sun reflected hard off the pinkish gem, the gold and silver, reflections lighting up the pool patio. She stood up and offered it to Bronwyn.
The woman’s reptilian stillness shattered. Her coffee cup clattered to the deck as she jumped up so fiercely that the chair tipped over. “Get that thing away from me!”
“What’s the problem, Bronwyn?” Ivy moved it closer.
Bronwyn hunkered down like an angry cat. “Bitch!” she hissed. Then she ran off into the house.
Ivy turned and started toward Lola. She held the beautiful jewelry out in front of her. “How about you, Lola?”
The ex-wife leaped from her chair and threw her arms around her daughters. “Get it away from me! Get it away from my babies! Gus, make her stop! My babies! My girls! Augustus, please!”
Ivy felt a little bad when they all started sobbing. But not too much. She flipped the thing onto Gus’ chest. The man looked a little startled. He picked it up and turned it over. Calm swept his angry features into a thoughtful look. After a moment, he thrust it in Tanner’s direction.
“Tanner, get this in the vault. When you’re done, get my attorney out here.”
Tanner put it on the tray. “Is there anything else, sir?”
Gus eyed his butler for a few heartbeats. “You might want to help Bronwyn pack her things.”
“Very good, sir.” The butler, the tray, and the Queen’s Dowry Tiara disappeared into the big house.
Everett, who had been silent through her whole explanation, pocketed his hands. “You’ll get my report and bill by this afternoon, Gus. See you around.”
Ivy followed him down the pool deck stairs. They walked around the outside of the house toward the car. “What now?” Ivy said.
“Up to Gus.”
“But the conspiracy, the murder plot, the theft, all that stuff—shouldn’t we call the cops?”
Everett shrugged and continued toward the car. “Up to Gus.”
“Isn’t someone going to jail?”
He beeped open the Viper’s doors. Before he opened hers, he gave her a long look.
“Up to Gus?” Ivy asked.
“Mostly.” He opened the door. “All those breakfasts made me hungry. Let’s go grab something to eat.”
Chapter 15
August Botanica opened a little late that day. Ivy sat behind the register, sleepy with the heat and the diner breakfast sitting in her stomach. She had no time to change, so she worked all day in heels and her blue hounstooth suit. Even with the main part of the botanica being a steamy greenhouse, she found she didn’t mind the fancy clothes too much. Maybe she was getting used to being a girlier girl. It helped that she’d abandoned the pantyhose for the day.
Customers were few, but she wasn’t worried. She did most of her business on the weekend, anyway, and it was coming up. It gave her a lot of time to think—and worry.
When Everett dropped her off, he asked her to come by the office after the shop closed. They had some accounting to do. Ivy didn’t know if that meant the case, or the fact that it was now over, and he had some questions about what she’d done to make his reception office a rainforest.
She drove her truck into the sunset hours later, heading for the bad part of town. Her stomach felt nervous over the meeting. As Everett had requested, she’d kept track of her hours. Ivy even had a receipt for a tank of boat fuel.
As she arrived at the West King office, she saw lights coming through the front window. That was weird. Last time she’d been here, the plants had completely taken over. Ivy grabbed her purse and walked up to the house. The door was open, the screen door shut to keep out the bugs. She rapped on it.
<
br /> “C’mon in.”
Ivy stared around the reception office. While the plants were thriving, they were back to normal size in their urns and pots. The mass cane no longer shoved against the ceiling. The fern no longer blocked the door. She could see out the window. She gave the philodendron a quick inspection. She couldn’t see any sign that it had been cut back.
“Mama always said those plants would protect me.”
She whirled to find Everett leaning against the office door.
“Your mama?”
“They were a gift from her. Mama, well, she always claimed she had a magical dominion over foliage.” Everett shrugged. “She came by today and took care of the, uh, overabundance.”
Dominion over foliage? Ivy felt a shiver. “Did she say anything about how much they’d grown?”
“Only that whoever did it was probably trouble.” He angled his head toward the inner office.
He knew! She thought. Everett knew she was a witch! Sheepishly, she followed him in. Ivy plopped down in the visitor chair.
Everett shifted the laptop. “You kept track of your hours.”
“I did.” She handed over a sheet of paper and the receipt.
He paused to wave her up and down. “And the suits? A good private eye always keeps track of expenses,” he said, and typed for a few minutes.
Ivy dug in her purse, and came up with the receipt from the dress shop. “Does that mean I’m a good detective?”
“Well, you solved the case, probably saved Gus Beranger’s life.”
Ivy sat back. “You knew the whole time what was going on, didn’t you?”
Everett didn’t look up from his work. “What I know, and what I can prove to a client or the cops are two distinct things.”
She felt a hot stir. “You wanted me to bring up the whole curse thing, didn’t you? Just so you wouldn’t look stupid if it didn’t pan out. ‘Pardon my assistant. She may be crazy.’ Right?”
Everett looked up at her. “Yep.”
“Dang your brutal honesty!” Ivy folded her arms. “I’ll bet it’s a good deal to have a partner you can blame for messing everything up, just in case.”
His printer clattered and buzzed and he handed her the printout. It was a check. The numbers made Ivy forget to breathe.
“I don’t know about having a partner,” Everett said. “But I do know I like working with you, Ivy.”
She finally got her eyes off the check and met his. “You do?”
He nodded. “A lot.”
Ivy stood up. She felt her face about to catch fire. “I gotta get home. Don’t wanna be late for dinner.”
She quickly crossed the living room reception, despite her heels. Before she could push open the screen door, she heard him say, “I’ll be calling you.”
***
“He knows?” Mama handed Ivy a plate of shark and chips. Roby had caught a small blacknose, and as was his norm, cut it up and deep fried it. This was a little weird, as shark had a more beefy taste. Ivy didn’t care. She was hungry.
“Everett didn’t say it in so many words… Oh, hell, yeah, he knows.”
“You said his mama was a witch like you?” Blanche forked a fry. “Dominion over plants?”
Ivy chewed and nodded.
“Funny, I didn’t get a single bit of witch from him,” Auntie Abitha said. “Just seems like a regular good looking hunk of man.”
Ivy lifted a finger. “He does have that charm.”
Mama gave her a look. “Charm? What charm is that?”
“The kind that makes old biddies like you fall all over your dang selves when he’s around,” Blanche said.
“We didn’t fall all over ourselves when we met him,” Abitha said. “We were just being polite to Ivy’s new friend.”
“Better have been just politeness,” Roby growled, “or the man gets keelhauled.”
Abitha patted her husband’s arm. “There’s no one for me but you, Roby sugar.”
“So what happened with the tiara?” Blanche said.
“Well, we found it.” Ivy went over the story, the stolen counterfeit, the fact that the real tiara hadn’t actually been seen in twenty years. She left out the part about getting a big fat check.
Mama pushed her plate away. “That’s quite a story, honey. Are you gonna make a habit out of this detective business?”
“Oh, I can see making a habit out of Everett,” Abitha said. This earned a glare from Uncle Roby. Which earned him another reassuring pat on the arm.
“I saw Abitha staring at his butt.” Moira appeared in the parlor, sitting in her usual chair. Their current stray cat leapt up from sleep, looked around, and darted away. Moira patted her lips with a forefinger. “Or maybe that was me.”
Blanche gave the ghost an evil stare.
“You should probably tell your hot brother all about it,” Moira said. “After all, you did borrow his boat.”
Ivy thought that was a good idea. She hadn’t let on about the detective or the previous case. This one didn’t involve getting tied up by magic-sucking leech creatures. After she helped with the dishes, she wandered down to the lighthouse dock.
Hey, Bro-chacho.
Ivy focused, breath in, breath out. She let go of all sensation, the cooling night breeze, the bob of the slip beneath her heels, the lap of the chop.
And—nothing.
You sleeping, Harmon?
Many a time, her brother had woken her from a sound sleep with their mental connection. Ivy was more courteous about contact, but she was sure it should work the other way. She focused, focused. Sweat beaded on her brow despite the night wind. Her breathing increased.
Harmon?
Harmon!
Ivy was shocked by an impact. She came out of the trance, and found herself lying on the private dock. She was panting as if she’d just ran a marathon.
Moira appeared beside her, and crouched down. “Ivy, honey! Ivy! Are you all right? Should I call 911?”
Technically, Moira would have to get Blanche do the actual dialing. Slowly, feeling an ache in her limbs, Ivy sat up. She swiped perspiration off her face. “No, I’m okay.”
“What happened? Do you have a case of the vapors?”
“No, I—I tried to get in contact with Harmon.”
Moira looked a question at her.
Ivy shook her head. “I couldn’t contact him.”
The question remained on the ghost’s face. She didn’t move. However, every window in Light House flashed and flickered as if lightning lived inside. Without another word, the ghost faded away. Ivy could hear every TV, every radio, every cell phone blatt out a sorrowful cacophony into the night.
This had never happened before. Ivy had always been in contact with her twin brother. Now, Harmon was lost.
Don’t miss the next book in the Ivy Botany Shop Cozy Witch Mystery Series:
Brewing Up a Storm
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