by K E O'Connor
“Wiggles loves cuddles and kisses.”
Wiggles’ expression turned scary as he overheard Cleo and me talking, and he slowed. “I do not—”
“No time!” I pulled open the main door and ushered him out. “We need to leave, Cleo. We don’t want to lose sight of the puppy.”
Cleo laughed, all trace of her sadness gone. “Let’s chase the puppy.”
I raced out the door, keeping a tight grip on Cleo’s hand as we slipped out into the night.
The door clicked shut behind us, and I let out a sigh. That had been a close call. I’d found a few clues at the crime scene but nothing conclusive. Nothing that pointed me toward anyone other than a strong magic user who might be concealing a few bruises.
But I had found a new witness and maybe even a new suspect. Since Cleo seemed so involved with the museum, she might have useful information about what had happened to Gretel. Or maybe, Gretel had done something to the museum that Cleo considered harmful, and her urge to protect it had led to Gretel’s death.
From my short time with Cleo, she’d bounced from a magic flinging protector to a sparkly, hand-clapping puppy hugger. I needed to learn more about Cleo Jinx.
Chapter 8
“I don’t see the puppy anymore,” Cleo whispered as we hurried along the silent streets toward Cloven Hoof.
“I know exactly where he’s going,” I said. “Come on. I see him.”
Cleo floated through the air again as I ran. I caught hold of her hand. It felt like I was tugging a heavy balloon behind me, but I was worried she might float away or simply change her mind and return to the museum if I didn’t watch her.
“I asked Mannie if I could have a puppy in the museum, but he said no. He said not everyone likes puppies. What kind of monster doesn’t like a puppy?”
“Beats me,” I said.
“I do have my familiars. They keep me company.”
I glanced at her. It was only witches who had familiars, and Cleo was no witch.
Wiggles was waiting by the front door of Cloven Hoof as we arrived. The place was locked and silent, all customers and staff gone.
Cleo stared at the building as her feet touched the ground. “Is this where you live?”
“Yes, I live here with the puppy.”
“I’m not a puppy,” Wiggles grumbled as he dodged out of Cleo’s way when she made a grab for him.
“Do you have more than one puppy? Can I have one?”
I unlocked the door and ushered her and Wiggles inside. “I just have this one. He’s more than enough. He’s like ten puppies squashed into one.”
Wiggles trotted ahead of us, casting a curious look over his shoulder. “What’s all this about a puppy?”
Cleo skipped over to Wiggles. “I’m going to give you the biggest snuggle of your life.”
Wiggles ducked out of her way as she tried to grab him again. “Sorry, cutie, I don’t snuggle.”
I bit my bottom lip to stop from smiling. “Maybe you can do a little snuggling. Cleo works at the museum. She might have useful information for us.”
Wiggles turned to face Cleo, who still stalked him. His eyes glowed red, and he bared his teeth.
Cleo giggled and clapped her hands. “You clever puppy. You can do all kinds of tricks.” She waved a hand in the air and a rainbow of sparkles floated out of her fingers and settled on Wiggles’ fur. “Now you’re a puppy who sparkles.”
Wiggles growled and shook the sparkles from his fur. “Do we have to do this?” His glare cut to me.
“It might be helpful to the investigation,” I said.
“I’m so great at snuggles that, once I’ve got you, you won’t want to leave.” Cleo opened her arms wide.
“I’d better get a big treat after this.” Wiggles stopped growling and sighed. “Fine, you can snuggle me.”
Cleo squealed and scooped Wiggles into her arms. “Oomph! You’re a heavy puppy. I bet your owner feeds you all kinds of treats for being so adorable.”
“She will after this.” Wiggles slung his front paws over Cleo’s shoulder and wrinkled his nose at me.
Cleo wrapped both her arms around him and squeezed. “You’re so soft. Although, you smell like you need a bath. I have rose scented bubbles at the museum.”
Wiggles wheezed. “I’m not a soft toy. If you keep squeezing me like that, you’ll get more than my unique hellhound scent filling your nose.”
“Let’s take a seat.” I gestured to a booth. “I’ve not seen you in Willow Tree Falls before.”
Cleo’s face was glowing with happiness as she settled in the booth with Wiggles still in her arms. “I’m new to the village.”
I sat opposite her. “I saw you at the museum opening.”
“That’s right. I’ve been here a month. Mannie hired me. I’ve not had a chance to leave the museum since I started. It’s been really busy.” She rubbed her cheek against Wiggles’ side. “I love it there.”
“What do you do at the museum?”
“I’m the museum assistant. Well, that’s what I signed on for, initially. But when I arrived, there were problems with on-site security.”
“What kind of problems?”
Cleo’s bottom lip jutted out. “The site is haunted. Did you know the building was owned by Vincent Maldovic?”
“Sure, everyone knows the tales. He was supposed to conjure dark spirits to make them do evil things. I even heard there’s a hidden entrance to a dark magic dungeon. It’s an urban myth. I’ve lived here all my life and have never seen anything dodgy happening in that house, not since Vincent was run out of the village for illegal magic use.”
“It might not be an urban myth.” Cleo stroked a hand down Wiggles’ fur. The color changed to bright pink. “He’s such a pretty puppy.”
I decided not to mention the new fur color to Wiggles. It would only make him mad. “He is lovely. Does that mean you got involved with the museum security?”
“It was my idea,” Cleo said. “I was renting a room at the hotel, but my assistant salary doesn’t stretch to much. I offered to stay at the museum and make sure the place was secure. I’ve got a few tricks of my own to keep evil spirits at bay. It meant a bit more money and free accommodation. It was a win-win all round.”
“Did you see any evil spirits?” I asked.
“Oh, yes! That place is haunted. There are loads of ghosts there. Not all of them are evil. I often get awakened by banging noises and icy drafts at night. Whenever I go to investigate, there’s never anything there, so it has to be ghosts.”
“It’s an old building. It could be loose pipes in the basement or the wind knocking a tree against the glass.”
“No, there’s something dark in that museum. But it’s such a beautiful place, and there are so many incredible artifacts there. I have to keep them safe. I patrol at night to make sure everything’s secure, and so far, it’s worked. But, with what happened to that witch on the ducking stool, I don’t think I’ve been doing a good job. I let someone commit a murder.”
“You were there the night Gretel was murdered?”
“I was in the building, but I didn’t see anything.” Cleo buried her nose in Wiggles’ fur. She removed it just as quickly. “He’s such a stinky puppy.”
“I smell great.” Wiggles shuffled his butt in Cleo’s arms. “Can I get down yet?”
“A couple more minutes,” I said. “Do you check the exhibits during your patrol?”
“The glass cabinets, yes. But the ducking stool was hidden by the curtain, all ready for the reveal on opening night. I’d been told not to touch it.”
“By whom?”
“Mannie.”
I tilted my head. We were circling back to Mannie as a suspect. First, he didn’t want me interviewing everyone, and second, he’d stopped Cleo from checking on the ducking stool. Was that because he’d planned to use the stool to commit murder and didn’t want anyone to disturb the scene?
“Did you hear anything odd on the night of Gretel’s murder?”
“Only the usual ghostly noises. The bangs and whistles. One ghost laughs a lot. It’s a deep, menacing sound, but I don’t think he means any harm by it. There is a dark presence in the museum. If a ghost wanted to, it could have moved silently and attacked Gretel. That makes sense. It’s the only reason I can think as to why I didn’t hear anything.”
“Hold on. You think a ghost killed Gretel?”
“Oh, yes! That’s the only explanation. Gretel must have upset a ghost. If you’re not polite to them, they can be mean. I always leave milk and cookies for the ghosts every night.”
“Milk and cookies every night?” Wiggles turned his head, so his nose was next to Cleo’s ear.
She giggled. “Absolutely. You can have them too if you want a sleepover.”
“I’ll consider it. What kind of cookies?”
“I bake all kinds. Apple and cinnamon. Chocolate chip. Maple syrup and marshmallow.”
“You’re winning me over,” Wiggles said.
“Getting back to your ghost theory, you believe Gretel was killed by a ghost because she was mean to it?” I’d seen Gretel in action, so I knew she was sharp. Could she have riled a ghost enough for it to attack her?
Cleo nodded. “Ghosts can be powerful, especially the older ones. And when they’ve been tampered with by dark magic, you never know what you’ll encounter.”
“How long was the ducking stool exhibit in place before the museum opened?”
“It was one of the first exhibits to arrive. Mannie was determined to get that right because it was a part of the grand opening.”
“Was the ducking stool always empty?”
Cleo shook her head. “No, there was a dummy of a witch in it. That’s why nobody panicked when they first saw the body. We expected to see a drowned witch on the ducking stool. It wasn’t until your beautiful puppy pulled the leg out that we realized something was wrong.”
“Which means the killer removed the dummy from the stool and replaced it with Gretel at some point in the night.”
Cleo nodded as she played with Wiggles’ ears. “They must have been there late. But I guess ghosts don’t need to sleep.”
“Is that water deep enough to drown in?” I asked Cleo.
“If you jumped in, you wouldn’t fully submerge. There’s a couple of feet of water in that pond. It was staged so that part of the witch’s body would be in the water as if she’d just had her final duck before dying.”
“Enough water to drown a person in?”
“Definitely. The ghost must have seen its opportunity and attacked.”
“Did you let Gretel in that night?”
“No, but she was in and out of the museum a lot before the opening,” Cleo said. “She was an exacting woman. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t giving up until she got it. I was working until eleven before the opening to get everything right.”
“So, she died sometime after that?” It was a question I asked myself more than Cleo.
“She must have. That’s when the ghosts are most active. They don’t come out when the place is full of people. I wonder if they’re shy.”
“Shy ghosts, whatever next?” Wiggles muttered.
Cleo kissed the side of his face and nuzzled him with her nose. “Don’t worry, puppy. I’ll protect you from the ghosts. I protect the whole museum. That’s my job.”
“I feel so much better knowing that,” Wiggles said.
“What did you do after you finished work that night?” I asked Cleo.
“I was exhausted. I’d been up since dawn, taking in last-minute deliveries and checking everything was where it needed to be and, of course, patrolling to make sure the ghosts weren’t a problem. I passed out as soon as I fell into bed. I snuggled with my three companions and didn’t wake until it was time for my first patrol three hours later.”
“Your companions?”
“My three familiars. They live at the museum with me. Puppy, do you like cats?”
“They’re fun to chase.”
“No, you don’t chase them. They can be a little... feisty when they don’t get their own way.”
“Have you had them long?” I asked.
“All my life.” She kissed Wiggles’ cheek again. “Much like your special puppy here, they’ll be with me my entire life. We’re joined by our powers, and our lives are linked. It will be nice if you join them, puppy. We can have fun together. My familiars are always looking for new playmates.”
“I’m not looking for new playmates,” Wiggles said. “I don’t play nicely with others.”
Cleo gasped. “Don’t tell me you’re a bad puppy! I can’t imagine it, someone as cute as you. I’m sure you’ll become close friends with my familiars.”
“I’m giving you a hard pass on that offer.”
“Getting back to Gretel,” I said, “did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary when you did your patrol?”
“Nope, nothing. I was tired, though, so it was a quick look around and then straight to bed.”
“How well did you know Gretel?” I asked. “Did you get along?”
Cleo shifted in her seat. “Not well, and I wouldn’t say we were friends. She could be a bit bossy. Sometimes, I got scared of her. Gretel was always shouting that nothing was good enough.”
“You didn’t like her?”
“I didn’t dislike her. I just kept out of her way. It made my life easier. I admired her passion for history, and we had good conversations about ancient times. She knew of my ancient lineage and respected my knowledge. Gretel wasn’t always respectful of Isadora or Mannie, though. She’d mock them when they got their facts wrong and was quick to correct them.”
“Did you see Gretel argue with anyone in particular?”
“Mostly Mannie and Isadora. There was bickering and a couple of stand-offs over aspects of different displays, but it wasn’t serious. Providing Gretel got her own way, there were never any problems.”
“And no rows on the day of her murder?”
Cleo tilted her head and rested it against Wiggles. “She was causing Seth problems. I overheard him talking on his snow globe. I wasn’t sure who he was talking to, and a lot of it sounded like legal jargon. He was saying that Gretel was being difficult, and something had to be done.”
That was interesting, but Seth had an alibi for Gretel’s murder. “Did Seth mention what the problem was?”
“Something about a lawsuit. It sounded serious. I was tucked behind an exhibit adjusting the backdrop, so he couldn’t see me when he was talking. I listened in because I was worried. I don’t want anything to happen to the museum. Sometimes, these legal issues drag on for years. That could close the museum, then no one will see the lovely exhibits and immerse themselves in my history.”
If Gretel was gunning for the museum to be closed, for whatever reason, that could lose Seth money. This was the launch pad for Isadora’s book. If things got delayed, it would affect sales and mess with the opening of the museum. There were also implications for Mannie, given how hard he’d worked to make this museum happen. Seth and Mannie still had a lot to gain by getting rid of Gretel.
“Seth kept talking about the bottom line. He said it couldn’t be impacted. He’d do all he could to stop Gretel getting her own way.” Cleo tilted her head back. “The promotion was to go as planned, and he’d sort things out this end. He was adamant they weren’t going to lose their investment. He used some rude words about Gretel, which I won’t repeat in case it upsets the puppy.”
“The puppy likes rude words,” I said.
“I do. I have several favorites I use every day. They include bu—”
Cleo wrapped a hand around Wiggles’ muzzle and shook her head. “You’re a cheeky puppy. No swearing allowed.”
I raised my eyebrows as I watched Wiggles squirm, indignation on his face. Cleo had been helpful, but her information meant I had to consider Seth and Mannie as suspects. What I really needed was evidence that ruled out suspects.
“Is that eve
rything?” Cleo asked. “I’m having fun with this gorgeous puppy, but I need to get back to the museum. I’ve been keeping an eye on those angels. They’re bad at their jobs. They were asleep most of the time, and the cute one with the dark hair, he kept wandering off and looking around. He spent an hour trying on witches’ hats.”
That didn’t surprise me. “We’re done for now. If you think of anything else, let me know.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for whichever ghost killed Gretel,” Cleo said. “I’ll speak to them and see if they know anything.”
“You can speak to the ghosts?”
“I speak to them a lot. They don’t answer back.”
“Well, anything you find out, pass it on.” I stood from the booth. I didn’t think a malevolent ghost had anything to do with Gretel’s murder.
“You’re sure I can’t keep this puppy? He likes me.” Cleo held onto Wiggles tightly as he squirmed in her arms.
“I’m not up for adoption,” Wiggles said. “And I’m beginning to sweat.”
Cleo giggled before raining kisses on his face and lowering him to the ground. “Anytime you’re looking for a new home, my familiars and I will be happy to accept you. They’ll love playing with a puppy.”
“Good to know.” Wiggles shook out his fur, more sparkles flying off him, and backed away from Cleo.
I showed Cleo out and locked the door behind her before turning to Wiggles.
“That was torture,” he said. “I smell weird, and I’ve got glitter in my fur. It itches.”
“You also have a pink stripe down your back,” I said.
Wiggles growled, and his eyes flamed red. “She’s some kind of freaky magic user. She smells like lemons, cinnamon, and dusty books. The old kind of books that get covered in mold.”
“I also got the ancient magic vibe off her,” I said. “Her magic is mixed with something else.”
“Madness,” Wiggles said. “As if she’d think for one second I’d move into that haunted museum with three cats who want to scratch my eyes out.”
“Not even for nightly milk and cookies?”
“Nope. I’d have to fight the killer ghosts and the evil cats to get those cookies. Not worth it.”