With another peek into my closet, I locate my fleece-lined ski-pants. I step into them and pull them up. I’m not sure if Max can hear my response, from here in the back of my bedroom, but I call out anyways, “I think becoming a witch is about as much as I can handle right now!”
I hear him laugh.
I smile.
Then, I search in my closet for a neck warmer. I find it and pull it over my head. Once that’s on, I rush out of the bedroom.
“Alright,” I say, as I waddle into the living room.
Max stands. “You’re so adorable,” he says, as he walks up to me and plants a kiss on my forehead. “All these layers. But you know what you’re forgetting?”
“What?” I ask.
“Reflective gear,” Max says. “I got you some as a gift. it’s down at my apartment. Let’s swing by on our way out to the park.”
I don’t want to be decked out head to toe in reflective gear. I mean, it sounds pretty dorky if you ask me. But how can I argue with Max? And so, after kissing Turkey goodbye on the top of his head, I find myself following Max down to his apartment so that I can add bright reflective clothing to my already ridiculous outfit.
Such is the life of a vampire’s girlfriend, I suppose!
Chapter Six
Max and I arrive at the park at quarter of eight. The lights are on, thanks to Dusty Clifton, but the court is covered in snow. Shoot! We forgot to clear it off!
I stare straight ahead at the court and place my hands on my hips.
“Hmm...” I say. “This isn’t good, is it?” I turn my head and blind Max with the headlamp that Max insisted I wear.
He reaches forward and angles it down so that it’s not shining right in his eyes.
“Headlamp one oh one,” he says with a smile. “Keep the light at an angle. That way you light up the ground in front of you, but you don’t blind your companion.”
“Thanks,” I say. I look down at my getup. Max has issued me a bright yellow vest that looks like the type construction workers wear. He also put stripes of reflective tape down the sides of my ski pants and then wrapped circles of it around my boots. “Do you really think all of this is necessary?” I ask. “I feel kind of silly.”
“You look great,” Max says. “Nothing is as attractive to me as a woman who is safety conscious.”
“We’re just going to have to shovel real quick,” I say. “This tournament is going to take place, no matter how many obstacles stand in our way. Be it snow—”
“—Murder,” supplies Max.
I nod. “Be it snow, murder, or ridiculous outfits. Now, we just need to find a shovel.”
I look around and spot the group of spirit athletes approaching from the left, led by Cora.
As they step from the shadows of the park into the light that’s flooding the small area around the tennis court, they look like actors stepping onto a stage.
Each team wears a unique uniform. Boris and Boleslava are in black and silver. Circling their heads, they wear silver headbands. Boleslava has put on dark black eyeliner that swoops up at the corners, giving her cat-eyes. It’s overdone and looks a bit like warpaint.
Fred and Marve are in matching yellow tracksuits that look totally outdated, worn and comfortable. They wear yellow hats with poofy white pom-poms on the top. Marve is carrying his video camera and aiming it all around the park as he walks. Apparently, their commute from Cora’s to the park for the first games of the tournament is film-worthy. Go figure.
Beth and Henry have matching visors over their strawberry-blond hair. The visors are equipped with little ear flaps.
Pat and Camille linger behind the rest of the athletes. They’re in multicolored, shimmery jumpers, dotted with pink and lavender flowers. They each wear pink ear muffs. Camille’s shoulders are slumped, and she looks as though she’s maybe just finally stopped crying. Pat has her arm around Camille, as if for support.
Behind all of the athletes, I spot Annie. Guess what she’s carrying... A shovel!
I wave and start jogging towards the group. As I pass by the athletes, I call out to Annie. “Nice, Annie!” I say. “I’m glad you thought to bring a shovel. I’ll get started!”
“Oh, good,” Annie says happily as she passes the tool over to me. “I hoped you would. I’ll set up a little refreshment stand while you are at it.” She pats a bag that’s slung over her shoulder. “I brought plenty of baked goods. Marley will be here soon with the coffee. She’s carrying it in a wagon, and it’s taking a while to drag it through the snow.”
“Perfect,” I say.
In my mind, I have visions of shoveling off the whole court in ten minutes. I like to think I’m strong and capable, because of all of the intensive Zumba classes I’ve been to over the years. I mean, I can dance for a whole hour straight—and believe me, the moves are really dynamic. It takes a lot of strength and cardio capabilities.
However, shoveling for ten minutes totally kicks my butt, and soon I’m drenched with sweat under my copious layers of clothing, and I’ve only finished clearing a quarter of the court.
“Want me to take a turn?” Max asks, his eyes sparkling with amusement as I tug at the neck of my jacket, trying to whoosh some air under my collar so that I can cool down.
“It’s not easy,” I say warily. “This snow is actually really heavy. It’s been sitting here for months. It’s like cement. I mean, it’s really tough to—”
“I’ll just see what I can do,” Max says.
“Alright...” I say, handing over the shovel. “I’ll take another turn when you get tired.” I pull my phone from my jacket pocket and take a peak. “It’s three minutes ‘til eight,” I say. “I’d better tell the athletes that the start time is going to be delayed.”
“Let’s just see how much I can get done in the next three minutes,” Max says.
With that, he takes the shovel in both hands and starts moving it along the court like a snowplow. For me, it would be impossible to do what he’s doing. The snow is heavy. I’d only be able to move it an inch or two before getting stuck.
But Max pushes it in front of him as though the snow is as light as cotton candy. He plows strips down the court, literally leaping over the net when he reaches it. He does two passes the length of the court. As he approaches me after the second lap, he looks over, meets my eye, and gives me a thumbs up. Then he spins around and keeps working.
My jaw drops. In amazement, I watch him complete two more stripes along the court. I check my phone. A minute has passed.
Well, I guess we won’t have to postpone the tournament!
Within the next two minutes, the court is cleared. Max takes up his position next to the net, and the two teams that are first up take the court.
It’s Fred and Marve vs. Boris and Boleslava. I’d love to hang around and watch—especially since my man is out there looking all official in his role as a judge— but I have work to do.
It’s time to do some investigating!
Marley has arrived with coffee. Annie brushed off a picnic table and has set up baked goods on it. Boy, given this cold air and all the work I just did with that shovel, I could sure use some refreshments.
The picnic table is my first stop.
Marley pours me a steaming cup of coffee.
“What do you think?” she says. “Which perp should we interrogate first?”
“They’re not perps,” I say. “Perp is short for perpetrator. That’s someone who’s definitely committed a crime.”
Marley grins as she pours a second cup of coffee out for Annie. “Look at you!” she says. “Ms. Fancy Pants detective over here.”
Annie’s eying my pants. “Those really are some fancy pants,” she says.
I address Marley first. “Well, you can thank Turkey for that little vocabulary lesson,” I say. “Turkey teaches me something new every day. He loves reviewing my online PI program modules.”
Then I look to Annie as I lift one leg up into the air. “And yes, they are fancy, aren
’t they? Max applied reflective tape to my old ski pants.” I set my leg down and then give a slow twirl to show my friends the full effect of my outfit.
Annie claps and Marley laughs.
As I finish my twirl, I say, “He’s very serious about keeping me safe.”
Annie sips the coffee that Marley has handed her. Then she says, “That’s a good sign, dear. It means he really cares about you.”
I nod. “I think he does.” I glance over at the court. The ball is thunking back and forth. The players dart side to side on the court. Max watches intently. Even just looking at him makes me smile and I feel those butterflies in my belly. “And I care about him,” I say dreamily. “A lot.”
Annie speaks up. “Maybe Cora won’t be the only one marrying a magical being this year,” she says.
Marley elbows Annie. “Right,” she says. “Cora and Silas... Penny and her vampire hunk. How about you and a ghostly tennis champ?”
Is that a blush I see on Annie’s cheeks? I bump my headlamp up to the brightest setting and lift my chin so that I can see better. Yep. It definitely is.
Annie shields her eyes. “Will you get that light out of my face?” she says.
Oops. I’ve just violated headlamp one oh one, haven’t I? “You’re blushing!” I say aloud, as I lower my chin and then turn off my headlamp. I pull off my mittens and reach for a chocolate chip cookie.
“Am I?” Annie asks, grinning as she lifts her hands to feel her cheeks.
I nod.
Marley nods too. “You and Fred did have a nice connection right off the bat,” Marley says. “Don’t you think so?”
Annie hesitates. “I suppose we did,” she says softly. “But this weekend is about Walter. My memories of him. This is in his honor.”
“But don’t you think Walter would want you to be happy with someone else—if that’s what you want?” I ask.
Annie bites her lip. “I don’t know,” she says. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, Penny dear.”
We’re all quiet for a minute. I munch on my cookie. From the court, we hear a happy holler. I look over and see Boleslava pumping her fist in the air. It’s clear that she and Boris have just earned a point.
Annie clears her throat. “I wish I could ask Walter,” she says.
Which reminds me. “Right, Annie, I was going to ask Max about that... you know, about what happens to humans who have passed over. I haven’t had a chance yet.”
Now it’s my turn to blush, as I remember the way Max and I got ‘distracted’ upon his arrival at my apartment. “It was a whirlwind with him just arriving home, and then us trying to get here on time. But I’ll ask him at the first chance I get.”
“Thank you, Penny,” Annie says. “I do appreciate that.”
We all fall silent again. I dunk my cookie into my coffee. When I bite in, it’s delightfully sweet and soggy at the same time. As I munch and slurp, I look around for the other competitors. In particular, I’d like to figure out where Beth is located. It would be nice to interview her one-on-one.
I spot Fred and Marve. Fred is doing jumping jacks, and Marve is filming him.
I continue surveying the park. At the edge of the pool of light that cascades over the court, I see Henry. He’s jogging in place. Where is Beth?
Just then, I see her run up next to Henry. She touches the ground and then runs off again. Apparently, while Henry is warming up in place, Beth has taken her warm up on the move. This gives me an idea.
I hold my cup out to Marley. “Will you top me off?” I ask. “I’m going to go see if I can grab a few words with Beth.”
“Oooh!” Marley says as she reaches for my cup. “PI Penny is on the move. Want a sidekick?”
“Nope,” I say. “I have a feeling Beth is going to open up best if I do this one-on-one. She seems to stay pretty quiet when she is with the rest of the athletes, but I keep seeing her talking to Henry.”
I shrug. “Some people are like that, you know? They don’t like talking in groups. I think if two of us went over there and started bombarding her with questions, she’d be defensive. But if it’s just me it might go better.”
Marley hands me my coffee and then starts pouring another one. “It could also help if you warm her up with a coffee,” she suggests.
“And a muffin,” Annie adds in.
I pull my mittens back on, wrap a muffin up in a napkin and put it in my pocket. With two coffees in hand, I head towards Beth.
I watch her jog around as I walk towards her, and notice that she always runs to a certain point on a playground near the tennis court, and then turns around.
I wait until she’s at that far point, and then make a beeline for her. I want to intercept her while she’s out of hearing distance from Henry.
My strategy works, and when she slows to a stop, we’re still in the shadows. A quick glance over at Henry shows that he’s unaware that I’ve successfully cornered his wife.
“Beth!” I say, trying to sound cheery. “I thought you might like a hot cup of coffee!”
I extend the paper cup out in her direction, and she eyes me warily before accepting it.
“What’s this all about?” she asks.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the only minorly smushed muffin. “How about a muffin, to go with that?” I ask.
“Are you bringing these around to all of the competitors?” Beth asks.
“Um... yeah! Yes. That’s right. Everyone that plays in Walterdon gets complimentary refreshments. It’ll keep you warm, and give you energy for the game.”
“I am rather hungry,” Beth says. She reaches for the muffin. “I didn’t have much of an appetite at dinner time.”
She’s given me the perfect lead into my interview! I take it and run with it. “It was kind of hard to eat after seeing that dead body, all covered with blood and whatnot,” I say. “That was truly haunting. Janice’s eyes looked so hollow and I didn’t like the way the blood was splattered on the wall behind her.”
Beth, about to bite into the muffin, frowns. Then, she carefully sets her coffee on the ground near her feet and wraps the paper napkin back around the muffin. “On second thoughts,” she says, “Maybe I’m not really hungry after all.” She hands the muffin back to me.
I refuse to take it. “Oh, come on!” I say. “Eat up! You need fuel for your first big game!”
Beth shakes her head emphatically. “No. Really. If I eat right now, I might toss my cookies.”
“Or your muffins,” I say, then I laugh at my own joke and slurp down some coffee.
Beth looks rather uncomfortable. I may not have gotten this interrogation off to the best start. I hoped to put her at ease, but she’s clearly not. In an attempt to smooth the waters, I say,
“So... are you excited for your first game in the tournament? Feeling ready?”
Beth seems to appreciate the question. She stops trying to push the muffin on me and lowers it to her side. The corners of her mouth stop digging down towards her chin, too.
“I think so,” she says. “Henry and I haven’t played in the Earth’s atmosphere for twenty years. It’s much harder to hit the ball here, and it moves about three times as fast as it does in the Spirit Realm, so it’s a very different experience. But we’ve been training hard and I think we’re ready.”
“What was the last tournament like?” I ask. “I heard there was some controversy around your win. Something about Janice favoring your team?”
“Who did you hear that from?” Beth asks.
“Fred mentioned it,” I say.
“Oh. Well, yes, I suppose there was some controversy.” She seals her lips into a tight line, and I fear that’s the last I’ll get from her on this angle of questioning.
But I only have a weekend to crack this case, and I’m not going to let her off the hook that easy.
I keep pressing. “In fact, Fred mentioned that there were rumors that Janice was very close with your husband, Henry. Do you think the rumors were true?”
&nb
sp; “Certainly not!” Beth says. She hasn’t picked her coffee cup off of the ground, I’ve noticed. My attempt at keeping her from becoming defensive has failed miserably. She glares a little as she says, “Fred has no business telling you about that. I thought we had all put those nasty rumors behind us. I was with Henry at that time, you know. Not married, but still. We were a couple. It hurts my feelings to have people go whispering behind my back about an affair between Henry and Janice.”
“So they were only rumors?” I ask. “You don’t think your Henry was actually cheating on you?”
“Never,” Beth says. She sounds as though she really believes it. “It was only hearsay from people who had no idea what they were talking about. Journalists got hold of the whispers and tried to turn it into real entertainment news, but there was no substance to it. Henry loves me and would never go for a woman like Janice.”
“What was Janice like?” I ask.
“Selfish,” Beth says. “All she cared about was her public image. Tennis is very big in our realm, you know. Those of us who play are in the public eye often. Our sport is televised frequently. Janice loved the attention that she got by being a judge for the top tennis players of the realm. She thrived on it. She was always trying to figure out ways to increase her status. You know, when those rumors were flying about, I had half a mind that Janice had started them herself, just to get more attention from the press.”
“Sounds like you didn’t like her much,” I say, taking a mental note of this. I sip my coffee. Beth may be too on edge to enjoy her drink, but I’m not going to let mine just sit around and go cold. I’m going to savor it while it’s hot.
Beth speaks. “No, I suppose I didn’t like her very much,” she says. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Did you go upstairs to use the bathroom, right after Janice?” I ask.
Beth’s eyes widen. “You think I killed her, don’t you!” she says.
Oops. I may have been a bit too obvious there. “Uh... “
Beth is glaring at me. “I can’t believe this!” she exclaims.
“Well—did you go upstairs right after Janice?” I ask. “I mean, Beth, come on, you have to know you’re an obvious suspect. You were carrying the trophy that killed Janice in your bag. You had easy access to it.”
A Hillcrest Witch Mystery Collection Page 59