Third Crime's a Charm (A Farmer's Market Witch Mystery Series Book 2)

by Constance Barker

  With that, David slipped out the door.

  “Another phony,” Emmy said. “I think he came so that you will tell Deputy Hart all about the visit. Her husband was soooo upset and soooo interested in justice. Phony.”

  “You are absolutely correct,” Gus said. “I had half a mind to give him my toothy grin...maybe even a little nip.”

  “There will be no biting,” I said. “Not unless it’s in self-defense.”

  “I don’t bite,” Gus said. “Not often.”

  Emmy laughed, and I could tell that she had found a place to hang out, and someone to have fun with. That was important for Emmy. If she felt better, she might move on, which was the natural order of things. Or, she might decide to stay with her new best friend. I needed to think about that for a while.

  Before I could go back to my workroom, the door opened.

  “I’ve got news,” Percy announced.

  CHAPTER 6

  Percy’s thick glasses couldn’t hide the excitement in his eyes. His smile was just wide enough to tell me that he had heard something with his super-hearing. He wore his usual uniform of polo shirt and khaki pants. I wondered for a moment about how many pairs of khakis he had. Some people locked onto a persona and didn’t change for anything.

  “What did you hear?” I asked.

  “You make it sound like gossip,” Percy replied. “And this is definitely not gossip.”

  “That means you were listening in on a private conversation.”

  “I just happened to be close enough to overhear some things, yes, but it wasn’t as if I sought them out.”

  “Sought who out?”

  “Aha, you do want to know.”

  “Percy, don’t play games with me. I have enough trouble with Gus and all the others who walk into my shop.”

  “I’m not playing games. It just so happens that I stopped in the diner for a cup of coffee and a Danish. And they were in a booth, talking earnestly, if not loudly.”

  “Who?”

  “David and Annie Jenkins, and we both know about Annie Jenkins.”

  Everyone in town knew that Annie Jenkins was David’s long-time mistress. It was one of the worst kept secrets ever. They thought they were being discreet, meeting in the park or diner, but a blind person would have recognized the signs. I supposed that since Betty was dead, they would be bolder. There was no need to remain hidden.

  “What were they talking about?” I asked.

  “The topic of the week,” Percy said. “Betty’s death. Annie was trying to comfort him, as he was putting on a public display of grief. Not that anyone believed him. She was saying all the right things. It was as if they were best friends, not lovers. That Annie is a bit older than David lent some veracity to that interpretation. But we know better.”

  “So, what is so intriguing about that?” I asked. “Everyone would expect that to happen.”

  “They would, but they wouldn’t expect Annie to insinuate that David was keeping another mistress.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Scout’s honor, and that would mean something if I had ever been a boy scout.” He laughed. “Annie wondered where David was spending all his time.”

  “What did David say?”

  “What would you expect him to say? He denied everything. He said he didn’t have time for anyone, not that he wanted someone else.”

  “Did she believe him?”

  “Not on your life. Annie had heard that he was catting all about town, chasing down his new love interest.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “How did he afford Annie, let alone another mistress?”

  “I assume he was siphoning off money from Betty,” Percy said. “She had the money. He had nothing when she married him, and I don’t think he knows how to save two nickels. Money just burns through his pocket.”

  “I heard the same thing. Some people simply don’t have the wherewithal to say ‘no’.”

  “Hardest thing in the world to do. Saying no to yourself requires uncommon will.”

  “What else did they talk about?”

  Percy smiled, a wry smile. “Annie wanted to know if David killed Betty.”

  “That’s direct. What did David say?”

  “He hemmed and hawed and asked Annie why she would ever ask the question. Didn’t she know him better than that? He danced like a rock skipping across the lake. But he never answered her directly. He never denied it.”

  “You would think that he would tout his innocence,” I said. “It’s odd that he wouldn’t answer. Not that I ever liked David. I always thought he was some kind of scammer.”

  I found it hard to believe that David would kill his own wife. But then, she had the money, and she was divorcing him. Without her, he was high and dry. He wouldn’t be able to support a church mouse. I was considering the possibilities, when Jason walked through the door.

  “Hello,” Jason said. “I was in the area, and I was wondering if you would like to have a bite with me. If you’re busy...”

  “She’s not busy,” Percy said. “And, even if she was, I’d still watch the shop for her. Take her some place nice.”

  “Hey,” I said. “I can make my own decisions. I’m not a child.”

  “Come on,” Percy said. “We both know you would like to get out of here for a bit. Don’t stand on ceremony. Just go.”

  I gave Percy my “mind-your-own-business” look, before I turned to Jason.

  “Before we go,” I said, “I want to introduce you to Emmy.”

  Emmy appeared, and because everyone was magical, we could all see and hear her.

  “Emmy is a ghost,” I said. “And she’s hanging around, because she’s not quite ready to move on.”

  Jason and Percy introduced themselves, although Percy said he knew Emmy from before she died.

  “You wrote a very nice profile of me,” Emmy said to Percy. “My mother cut it out and kept it.”

  “I do the best I can,” Percy said. “You have a very nice family.”

  Jason introduced himself to Emmy and admitted to being a panther shifter. That was enough to start Emmy asking questions. Before she and Jason got into a conversation, I grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him to the door.

  “We’ll be back in a little bit,” I said. “And Jason will answer all your questions.”

  “Promise?” Emmy asked.

  “Promise,” Jason answered.

  Outside, Jason asked where we should go. I said Abbot’s Pub was around the corner, and they had good sandwiches. That was good enough for Jason. In minutes, we occupied a booth in the pub. I generally didn't imbibe in the middle of the day, but I thought this was a special occasion. Jason didn’t ask me out all that often.

  “Okay,” Jason said, as he sipped his beer. “We have two suspects, Tabitha and David. Who’s the better?”

  “Well,” I began, “the physical evidence points to Tabitha. I doubt David knows how to construct a witch’s portal. He’s not magical. He would have to find someone to help him. On the other hand, David might have the better motive. He stands to get Betty’s money. While Tabitha wanted something Betty had, was that enough for murder?”

  “From what I’ve been able to learn,” Jason said, “Betty was the nicest person in the world. No one would want to murder her. I’ve also heard that David was possessive, even though he was a serial philanderer. Which is the better motive?”

  We discussed the suspects and the murder, and while some details pointed to David, others pointed to Tabitha. We had come to the point where we were stuck. We needed more information. We couldn’t pin down either person.

  “You know,” Jason said, “I’ve been here six months, and this is my second murder. When I was a park ranger, we had no murders. The worst thing that happened was when a buffalo mauled a stupid tourist. Despite all the warnings, they will want to pet the beasts. They’re called wild for a reason.”

  “Well, you did want some action,” I said. “We don’t have buffalo around here, but
we do have murders.”

  He laughed. “And I have to get back to work. Sit and finish your beer. I’ll get the bill.”

  He bent down to give me a brief kiss, which was welcome. Before he could though, his radio went off. I couldn’t help but listen in. Delilah had called in to report a breaking and entering. Betty’s office at the flower shop had been destroyed.

  CHAPTER 7

  Jason left me to check out Betty’s office. I assumed it was Tabitha, searching for whatever she thought she needed and could claim. I went back to the charm shop, relieving Percy of his duty. Emmy and Gus were still there, chatting like old friends. I was happy for them. For one thing, Gus didn’t have a lot of people to talk to. While I was available, there weren’t many others. Now, that he had a ghost-pal, I knew he'd be happy.

  Things rolled along, neither going up nor down, until Betty’s funeral. The funeral was held in the First Christian Church. It was one of the oldest churches in town and one of the largest. As a tribute to Betty’s popularity, the church was mostly full. Percy and I managed to score some seats not far from David and...Thomas Washington.

  Thomas Washington was Betty’s illegitimate son, the outcome of a high school crush. Thomas looked like his father, Beau Washington, who had been a high school quarterback. I never knew how Betty and Beau managed to hook up, but the result was Thomas. Beau had been man enough to give Thomas a name, although Beau hadn’t stood up for a marriage. Where Betty had the baby and went to work, Beau moved on to college. He lasted exactly three semesters, before he injured a knee and had to drop football. After that, without all the support from the athletic department, Beau soon flunked out. He didn’t come back to Abbot Rise, which was probably a good thing. Betty certainly wasn’t going to take him in.

  Thomas wore a new black suit, purchased for the funeral. Dark, lank hair, brooding brown eyes, nervous fingers, he clearly wasn’t comfortable. He was in the front pew with the rest of the family, including David. Thomas had the wasted, lean look of a drug user. It wasn’t hard to spot. While he pretended to cry, I could tell that he shed no tears. After all that Betty had done for him, I thought he might show some real grief. I was mistaken. He was as fake as David, who was next in the pew.

  “Thomas doesn’t look too bothered, does he?” Percy asked.

  “People grieve in their owns ways.”

  Percy snorted. “He won’t shed a tear. Want to know why? Because he’s still in Betty’s will. I overheard a conversation, where she threatened to cut him off completely, if he didn’t get clean. He’s a heroin addict, in case you didn’t know.”

  “I think that is common knowledge.”

  “Yes, but did you know Betty thought Thomas was stealing from her?”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Sometimes, I wish I didn’t hear what I hear,” he said. “But that was part of the back and forth. She accused him, and he didn’t say no. Given his need for drugs, any threat to his money supply would be a big deal.”

  “Another suspect,” I said. “They’re starting to pop up like toadstools after a spring rain.”

  “And just as noxious. If Thomas was desperate enough, killing off Betty might not have been so difficult.”

  “Percy, you’re become jaded,” I said. “Sons don’t kill their mothers.”

  “But husbands do kill their wives.”

  “And some witches kill for the magic.”

  The funeral went off without a hitch. That was a good thing about Abbot Rise. People understood how to attend funerals. They were respectful and attentive.

  After the funeral, I went back to my shop. While I would mourn Betty, I still needed to make a living. Gus was with me, and he provided his own bit of commentary.

  “Thomas is not a dog person,” Gus said.

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “He looked at me as if I were some form of vermin. I know when people don’t like me.”

  “In that case, you have my permission to bite him.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “No, silly, I'm joking. Boy you were ready to take advantage of that one.”

  The door opened, and Millie entered. She was carrying a cloth bag that I knew contained some form of knitting. Millie never went anywhere without her knitting bag. Her sweaters and hats were so popular, that she had to knit all the time to keep up with the orders. She took a seat on one of my chairs, pulled out the knitting and went to work.

  “What have you got there?” I asked.

  “A baby sweater. You remember Audrey? She just had a new girl, and well, she wanted a sweater. Initials and everything.”

  “You’re a marvel,” I said. “How do you keep up?”

  “I pray a lot.” Millie laughed. “You were at the funeral. What did you think?”

  “Well, for one thing, I didn’t think Thomas or David looked particularly sad. Hardly a tear.”

  “Exactly. They seemed almost glad. As did some other women in the church. They didn’t look at the casket or the preacher. They looked at David. Is he that popular with the ladies?”

  “I really don’t know. You now how gossip goes. So-and-so is seen with so-and-so, and pretty soon, it’s an affair and everyone is getting a divorce. People assume the worst, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know, Millie. I like to think most people are too wrapped up in themselves to give much thought to what others are doing.”

  “That’s because you’re young, Elle. When you get a bit older, you’ll suspect everyone. All wives and husbands cheat. Didn’t you know that?”

  “Oh my, I hope that’s not true. What are the chances of a successful marriage, if everyone cheats?”

  “Just make sure to maintain your separate bank account. The worst thing in the world is to end up poor.”

  I laughed. “I’ll remember that. The church was pretty full. Was Betty that popular, or were the murder mavens in the pews?”

  “I think it was a combination of things. Betty was well-liked, and certainly, there were the people who took mental pictures of the people there and tried to determine if they had murderous looks.”

  Millie spent another hour with me, talking about this and that, as she completed the baby sweater. She left, promising to come back soon. I headed back into my workshop, as there were always charms to fashion. But, try as I might, I couldn’t get my mind and hands to work together. I was constantly thinking of the murder. Who had killed Betty? While I wasn’t officially engaged in the solution, I did want to solve it.

  And I knew exactly where to start.

  CHAPTER 8

  The Farmer’s Market was empty. No sellers, no buyers. Yellow crime tape was the culprit. The scene had not yet been released. With no one looking, I ducked under the tape and headed for the port-a-potty.

  I was no fan of port-a-potties, but they did fulfill a purpose. The one I wanted was clearly marked, as it had been sealed with yet more yellow tape. Since I was already in the game, I wasn’t about to let the tape stop me. I opened the door and peered inside. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. Only then, did I spot the apparation circle. It was small and mostly round, sloppy work for an accomplished witch, like Tabitha.

  I dropped to one knee and studied the circle. The symbols looked right—for someone who was not a witch. Upon closer examination, I discovered that the symbols were slightly misdrawn and misplaced. Either someone was in an extreme hurry, or that someone never intended to use the circle. In fact, I wasn’t sure it would work. Portal circles were tricky things. Draw in the wrong code, you could end up some place where you don’t want to go, like another port-a-potty. While that mistake would be very embarrassing in most cases, it might prove fatal in others. Magic needed to be precise.

  I ran my finger around the circle, wondering if I would pick up anything important. Did Tabitha misplace things on purpose, to throw off the investigation? Or was someone trying to frame a witch. I knew that Tabitha was high on Jason’s list of suspects. Did he know en
ough about portals to recognize the errors? To most non-magicals, one circle was as good as another. I leaned down to view the circle closely, and that was when I noticed a tiny bit of white stuck in the corner of a plastic vent. If I hadn’t bent down, I never would have noticed the white. I reached over and disengaged it from the vent.

  Lace.

  It was small piece of lace, something that might have come from the hem of a dress. I held it up to the light and noticed that it smelled of lavender, a very nice smell, but not the ordinary smell of a port-a-potty. Since I had brought a small plastic baggy with me (better to be prepared than not), I put the lace into the baggy and kept looking. If I got lucky once, I might get lucky a second time.

  No more luck.

  I stared at the lace, ordinary lace, and asked myself what it meant. Probably nothing. Something torn away from a dress at some time in the past. I didn’t imagine the port-a-potty received a thorough cleaning very often. More than likely, the lace had been there for days or weeks. That it smelled of lavender meant nothing too. Lavender was a common scent. It was found in everything from air fresheners to soaps. I wondered how I might learn more about the lace. There was only one good place to visit.

  Tabitha’s house.

  One would expect a dark witch to live at the end of a lonely lane, in a small house, surrounded by old, gnarled trees. That was the house of common literature. But Tabitha didn’t live in something like that. She occupied a smart, little ranch-style home with a nice green lawn and trimmed bushes. The paint was fresh, and the windows washed. It was a far cry from the houses of gothic stories and children’s books. The houses on either side, while not close, were equally well cared for. I stood on the sidewalk and pushed my psyche inside the house. Since Tabitha was on the run, I didn't expect her to be home. I didn’t feel her presence, so I walked to the front door and knocked.

  If Tabitha had opened the door, I would have made up some excuse. Since no one answered, I tried a simple spell to unlock the door. That the spell worked, should have alerted me to something. After all, Tabitha could have used all manner of protection spells, making mine useless. But she didn’t, and I slipped inside quickly. Breaking into someone’s house was something that needed haste. Lingering about would only invite suspicion and intervention.