A Taste for Magic (Familiar Kitten Mysteries Book 5)

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A Taste for Magic (Familiar Kitten Mysteries Book 5) Page 6

by Sara Bourgeois


  “Hello,” was all I could think to say in response.

  “You were at the restaurant the other night, right? Were you just in there talking to my husband?”

  “I was,” I said. “I wanted to see how he was doing.”

  “How did you know what room he was in?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down.

  “Small town,” I responded with a shrug.

  “Probably one of his students,” she said with a sigh. “The man can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. I bet he just had to call all of his little groupies.” She said the words students and groupies with the same dripping disdain. It was as if it left a foul taste in her mouth.

  “I just wanted to make sure he was all right.”

  “Are you one of them?” Rebecca asked.

  “One of his students?”

  “One of his groupies,” she corrected.

  “I am neither. I was at the restaurant with the man who is now my fiancé,” I said. “I really just wanted to see how your husband was doing.”

  Rebecca let out a defeated sigh. “I’m sorry. This is all just so stressful. I mean, it’s good. It’s good that they found the cancer so soon. He got lucky, I guess.”

  Something in the tone of her voice told me her true feelings didn’t match her words. I believed she was also trying to establish if I was attractive enough for her husband, and I found the time she took to come to that conclusion a little insulting.

  Maybe it was the bright red hair. I refused to believe it was because I looked too old. And if I did, it was because Paul was a much creepier creep than I anticipated. And in that case, why was Rebecca still with him? Wanting out of a marriage but not wanting to get divorced was a motive for murder.

  “I’m glad he’s going to be okay too,” I said. I wanted to ask her more questions, but I had nothing to go on and no reason to grill her. Besides, I was starting to wonder if the cancer had been the reason he passed out in the bathroom. Maybe I was seeing murder where there was nothing but a medical emergency. I might never know because I’d healed him. “You should get back in there to him. You both have a lot to celebrate.”

  “Thank you,” Rebecca said and smiled. “Congratulations to you too. On your engagement. It’s a lovely ring.”

  I was exiting the lobby to leave the hospital when I saw someone who looked a lot like Hollie at the coffee stand. I wanted to turn around and get a better look, but a volunteer was wheeling a new mother and her baby through the doors right behind me. By the time I got myself around them and back inside, the woman was gone.

  I nearly rushed back inside to try and find her when Thorn appeared at my side. “Kinsley? What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

  Crap.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I said and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t here for me or the baby. I, uh… I wanted to check on Paul Fraser. I wanted to see how he was doing.”

  “Kinsley.”

  “What? I saved his life. I wanted to see how he was doing,” I said.

  “So, you’re not here because you think someone tried to kill him. You weren’t up in his room trying to get information so you could solve a crime you believe occurred?” he asked me skeptically.

  I couldn’t lie to him. Not directly anyway. Telling Thorn I was at the hospital to check on how Paul was doing was as far as I was willing to go to skirt the real reason I was there.

  “He didn’t have a heart attack,” I protested.

  “I know. He had a panic attack and he has early stage cancer,” Thorn said and crossed his arms over his chest. “I already know these things because I already followed up on this.”

  “He said he didn’t have a panic attack,” I further protested, but all the fight had gone out of me. Even I was starting to believe that the cancer had been what caused his episode.

  “You’re a complete stranger that came barging into his hospital room to question him about a medical emergency he had in public. Do you think he’s just going to tell you if he struggles with panic attacks? A lot of people would deny that, Kinsley.”

  “I think he would tell me. People tell me things. They can sense that they can talk to me,” I said.

  “Not everybody is going to do that, babe. You’ve got to let this go. Nobody tried to kill him. Please let it go.”

  “What if they did, Thorn? You can’t say with one hundred percent certainty that it was a medical emergency. If someone did try to kill him, they might try again. When they do, I won’t be there to heal him.”

  “He’s in a hospital, Kinsley. His wife and the nurses are watching him.”

  “They leave the room. I walked right in,” I said.

  He thought about it for a moment and then let out a frustrated sigh. “You’ve got to leave this alone, Kinsley. He has cancer. He passed out. It happens.”

  “He doesn’t have cancer anymore,” I whispered. “I couldn’t just leave him half healed.”

  “Well, then you’ve done everything you can,” Thorn said and smiled at me softly. “I have to go. I need to go to the ER and take a statement. I’ll see you tonight?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, babe.”

  I was getting in my car to leave when another car pulled up right next to me and I had to partially close the driver’s door I was about to use. I hated when people did that. There was an entire practically empty lot and that person had to pull in right next to me.

  Soon enough, I found out why. Dorian Black stepped out of the car that was nearly over the line. It was as if he’d used his car to keep me from getting in mine, but that would have been an overly aggressive move. I needed to chill. It was more likely that he was just a bad driver.

  “Kinsley, we have to stop running into each other this way,” Dorian said as he came around the hood of his car.

  “You mean like you stalking me,” I said seriously. “I think you’re following me.”

  “Wow, that’s a heavy accusation,” he retorted.

  “One that you didn’t deny.”

  I started to open my car door up again. He hadn’t left me much space, but there was enough room for me to squeeze in.

  When Dorian figured out that I was getting into my car, he stepped closer. “Hey, if you tell me what you learned in there, I’ll tell you what I know about my father.”

  “Why does that sound like I’d be making a deal with the devil?”

  “But you didn’t say no,” Dorian countered.

  “I think you might be disappointed with what I learned from Paul Fraser,” I said.

  “That’s okay, I think you might be disappointed with the story about my father too,” Dorian said.

  “Well, then I guess we can be disappointed together. There’s a cafeteria in the basement of the hospital. Would you like to grab coffee? I could use a bite to eat,” I said.

  It was late afternoon, or early evening depending on how you looked at it, so the cafeteria was pretty dead. There were only a couple of people sitting at tables sipping coffee or picking at sandwiches. There was no one in line.

  Dorian just wanted coffee and he had a phone call, so he went and sat down. I got myself a grilled cheese sandwich, mozzarella sticks, fried mushrooms, and a chef salad. When I took my tray over to the table Dorian had chosen, his eyes went wide with shock.

  “You said you wanted a bite to eat,” he chuckled.

  “I’m hungry,” I shrugged and sat down with the tray. “Here’s your coffee.”

  “You eat like that all of the time?” he asked.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but yeah. You can have some if you want,” I offered as I emptied the packet of ranch dressing onto my salad.

  “I don’t think so,” Dorian said, but a few seconds later, he plucked a fried mushroom from my tray.

  “So, you were going to tell me about your father,” I said as I speared a bite of my salad. “He died in the apartment above my shop, right?”

  “That’
s the official story,” Dorian said. “But in this quid pro quo, you have to give first.”

  “I was at the hospital to see Paul Fraser. I wanted to check on him and see how he’s doing,” I said.

  “And? How is he doing?”

  “What I can tell you without completely violating his privacy is that he didn’t have a heart attack.”

  “You’ve got to give me more than that. I won’t tell anyone who told me, you’ve got my word on that. I don’t sell out my sources.”

  “You’re planning on running a story on this?” I was a bit shocked.

  “Why else do you think I wanted to know?” Dorian asked.

  “I don’t know… curiosity maybe?”

  “I haven’t lived here long enough to be that bored yet,” Dorian countered.

  “Coventry isn’t really boring,” I said.

  “I kinda get that feeling,” he said. “Now, tell me the real scoop on Paul Fraser.”

  “Look, I’m not really sure why I came down here with you. I mean, other than to get something to eat. I’m really not comfortable giving you his private information.”

  “Private information that he blabbed to a total stranger,” Dorian reminded me.

  “That’s true,” I said.

  “What I really want to hear about is how you don’t think it was a medical emergency. You think someone did something to him,” Dorian said flatly.

  “I never said that.”

  “Yes, you did. I heard you say it to your sheriff boyfriend.”

  “Fiancé,” I countered. “But…”

  “Don’t worry. Nobody else heard you. I made sure they were all standing back.”

  “But you listened in,” I said and rolled my eyes.

  “It’s what I do.”

  “Then why do you need me? Why don’t you just run with what you heard?”

  “Because you saw him first. You were right there. He was dying and I know it. He’s very lucky to be alive,” Dorian said. “What kind of poison could have done that?”

  “I thought he might have been poisoned too,” I admitted. “But, and I’ll at least tell you this much, they think he has cancer. I’m starting to think he might have just been sick and maybe stressed.”

  “No, you don’t,” Dorian said and narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t even try to fool me.” He looked as though he was sizing me up the way Rebecca Fraser had, but for different reasons. Maybe for the same reason. The last thing I wanted to do was give Dorian Black the impression I was covering for Paul.

  “There, I told you mine, now you tell me yours,” I said and started eating my fried mushrooms.

  Dorian took another, dipped it in the little ramekin of ranch on my tray, and popped it in his mouth. He ate another before he spoke again. “I supposed I can tell you a little, but before this is all done, we’re going to talk about Paul Fraser some more.”

  “Okay,” I said, but I tried not to sound too committal.

  “My father was an alcoholic and some would probably say a loser. He was also a devout Catholic. That’s what I hear anyway. Something my grandmother told me. I don’t know that anyone ever one hundred percent believed he killed himself,” Dorian said.

  “Is that why you’re here?” I asked. “Is that why you really came back? Do you think you’ll find the answers here?”

  “I barely knew my father. It would make for an interesting story to solve that mystery, Kinsley, but that’s all.”

  I didn’t entirely believe him, but I wasn’t going to push either. There was no point. “Well, I should get going. I guess I’ll see you around.”

  “Aren’t you going to wait around for the best part?” Dorian asked with one eyebrow cocked up.

  “The best part?”

  “I’m sharing this with you because I have confidence that if it comes to something, you’ll share with me. See, that’s how this will work, Kinsley. That will be the basis of our little friendship. Give and take.”

  “We’re friends now?” I asked skeptically.

  “Wouldn’t you rather be?” Dorian asked.

  “Rather be than what?” I countered.

  “So, I went ahead and looked into who was working at Bella Vita at the time of Paul’s incident. There were three waitresses, the hostess, and five kitchen staff. One of them piqued my interest, so I looked into him further. A dishwasher named Leo Harley. Used to run with a motorcycle club here in town.”

  “They left,” I said. “That motorcycle club all left town.”

  “They didn’t all leave town. For whatever reason, this Leo Harley kid stayed behind. Anyway, he’s got a few prior convictions for drugs and one for assault and battery. He’s one arrest away from doing a long stretch in prison. Maybe that’s why he stayed.”

  “What motive would he have?” I leaned forward, finding myself caught up in Dorian’s lure.

  “That’s where you come in, Kinsley. I figured if I baited the hook, you’d take it.”

  “Doesn’t that end with me getting filleted and fried?” I sat back against my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. “Why don’t you go ask Leo if he tried to kill Paul?”

  “Because I’m new in town and nobody is going to talk to me. I’ve been here a couple of days, and I already know you’re the queen bee around Coventry.”

  “The queen bee?”

  “Yeah. People talk about you like you’re the Queen of England. I don’t get it considering you run a crystal shop, but I also know you belong to both of the founding families of the town. So, there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

  “How did you find out who was working at Bella Vita? It’s against the law for them to tell you the schedule,” I said.

  “Same way I got you to talk to me. Well, not the exact same way. I tracked down the hostess and invited her for coffee. A little flattery goes a long way with some people,” Dorian said with a shrug.

  “I’m not sure I like you,” I said. “You’re a snake in the grass.”

  “But you like snakes, and I assure you I’ll grow on you,” Dorian retorted. “Let me walk you to your car? Please tell me what you find out from Leo.”

  “I’m not going to see Leo,” I said. “Paul Fraser had a health emergency. We should leave it at that.”

  Chapter Five

  As soon as Dorian pulled out of the hospital lot, I looked up Leo Harley’s address. He lived on the outskirts of town in Coventry’s only trailer park. The park itself had an older section and a newer section, and Leo definitely lived in the older section. His street was at the very edge and backed up to a row of knotty old pines. I’d heard word that a developer had purchased the land under the oldest section of the trailer park, and as soon as the lot leases were up, they were tearing it all down.

  The newer, nicer section of the park would stay. In place of what was torn down, the development company would place brand new modular homes. They looked almost like regular houses, and I’d heard that retirees loved them. There was also a kind of bog nearby that they would dredge out and turn into a real pond.

  Until then, there was just a street full of decades old trailers that were absolutely falling apart right in front of my eyes. Sun-bleached kids’ toys strewn across the bald patches of dirt that were supposed to pass as lawns though I saw and heard no signs of actual children. I wondered how long those toys had just been left there to rot. Somewhere off in the distance, a large dog barked.

  I walked gingerly up the wood steps to the small deck outside of Leo’s front door. One of the steps almost gave way underneath my foot. They were dry rotted and desperately in need of replacing, but given the park’s future, I knew that would never happen.

  Music blasted from inside the trailer, and I had to practically pound on the door. The music finally stopped. “You got a warrant?!” A man called from inside.

  I’d had to knock so hard he thought I was the cops. “I’m not the sheriff!” I hollered back through the door.

  “You,” Leo said when he finally opened the door.
>
  I heard the sound of the door sweeping cans that were no doubt lying on the floor out of the way. Leo had short, ginger red hair and dark brown beady eyes that sized me up. He’d only pulled the door halfway open, but I could see that he wore filthy jeans and a torn-up Metallica t-shirt.

  “My name is Kinsley Skeenbauer,” I said.

 

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