“Oh, Father Donovan,” said Gwyn, catching him once again before he rushed off. “Has anyone told you that a woman who lived across the street from the Falls was found dead this morning?”
His eyes narrowed. “Hmm. What was her name?”
“Margaret Sutton,” said Phyllis.
He turned to look at Phyllis and Hazel, who stood behind him. His cheeks fell slightly. “Yes. I did hear about that,” he said calmly. Then he put a hand aside his mouth and whispered. “I heard she was a witch.”
Hazel’s head reared back, as did Phyllis’s.
“Father Donovan!” chided Phyllis. “So what if she was a witch? Is it any less of a tragedy if she was?”
His head bobbled from side to side on his shoulders as he mulled that notion over. “Any culture that challenges God’s role in the universe is gravely contrary to the tenets virtue of my religion, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t see how a group of people that values nature and utilizes the gifts that God has given the world should be seen as any different than anyone else!” argued Phyllis.
Gwyn’s face was red as she threw in her two cents. “And aren’t all of God’s creatures inherently valuable?”
He puffed air out of his nose and gave them a tiny smirk. “I’m afraid you ladies have been around this culture for much too long. They’ve gotten to your heads,” he said, tapping the temple of his nearly black hair. “I just don’t understand how Father Bernie has ministered to this community for so long.”
From the corner of her eye, Gwyn saw her mother lift the end of her cane and aim it at Father Donovan’s back. When Hazel closed her eyes, Gwyn knew what was to come next. She’d been on the receiving end of those little electrically charged zaps her entire life.
“Mother, no!” shouted Gwyn, holding her hand out in front of her.
But it was too late. The blunt end of Hazel’s wooden cane glowed with a fiery green ember, like the tobacco end of a cigarette as it puffed to life. Gwyn watched it discharge, emitting a slow, gurgling sound. She did a double take, looking curiously at the cane. Usually, Hazel’s cane emitted a sharp zapping sound when it discharged, not a slow gurgling sound.
The charge it chugged out slow-danced its way towards Father Donovan. The green ball hung in the air as it moved excruciatingly slowly and then stopped almost six inches before hitting him and dropped limply to the floor. The electrical discharge sizzled and then evaporated harmlessly into the air.
Hazel looked down the length of her cane with one lip curled, disappointment covering her face. “Well, that was a bust,” she said.
Father Donovan sucked in his breath and then cast his long condemning finger at Hazel. “Witch!” he sneered.
“Was it the wart on my nose that gave me away?” snickered Hazel.
“Was it your intent to use your magic against a man of God?” His face was crimson as he fired off his righteous indignation at the small woman.
“I don’t know how you can call yourself a man of God and not love all of God’s creatures,” she snapped back.
“Pagan!” he fired back, still holding his pointed finger in her direction.
“Hypocrite!” shouted Hazel. “And you better remove that finger from my face before I remove it from your body!”
“Mother!” breathed Gwyn.
He reeled around to look at Gwyn. The whites of his glowed as his eyes widened into round balls. “And she’s your mother?! That means you’re a witch too?! I hope you know that I intend on telling the directors of this institution about your…condition.”
Gwyn smiled at him, keeping her composure despite the fact that inwardly, a storm raged. “You go right on ahead. That was the reason they hired me in the first place. They wanted someone who wasn’t narrow-minded and intolerant of others. I only wish Aspen Falls had selected a temporary minister that possessed the same attributes.” She lifted her chin to give her an air of authority. “Good day, Father Donovan.”
She turned her back to him, knocked on Ellison Wallace’s door, and upon hearing an immediate ‘come in,’ breezed inside.
Phyllis stared icily at him as she walked past him, as did Loni.
Hazel stopped on her way past him and wrinkled her nose. “You’re lucky my stick jammed, Buster. Next time, don’t plan on being so lucky.”
Father Donovan let out an indignant, “Uh,” before storming down the hall towards the front doors.
Inside, Ellie Wallace lay back in her bed. Surrounded by fluffed pillows and covered up to her neck with a soft peach afghan, she looked like a tiny little thing.
“Good morning, Ellie,” chirped Gwyn as she walked over to the woman’s bedside. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m afraid I’ve got a touch of pneumonia.” Her small voice was frail as she spoke.
“I heard,” said Gwyn with a drooping bottom lip. “I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well. I brought some friends to cheer you up.” Even though Gwyn trembled with anger inside, she tried to keep it together and put on a positive attitude for Ellie. She didn’t need to know about the little squabble they’d had with Father Donovan in the hallway. “You know Mom, of course, but this is Phyllis Habernackle, and this is… umm…” She stopped and thought about it for a minute. “Olga Patterson, from Romania,” she said, pointing at Loni in the black scarf.
“From Romania!” said Ellie. Excitement lit up her pale face, and she tried to sit up a little higher in her bed. “That’s so far away!”
Loni nodded and held up her hand with her fingers parted down the middle in a Vulcan salute. “I come in peace,” said Loni with a fake accent and a slight nod.
Ellie smiled at Loni. “It’s so nice to meet you, Olga.”
Gwyn took a seat on the chair next to Ellie’s bed. “Oh, Ellie. It’s such a shame you were sick last night! You missed the walk to the Falls, and it was such a lovely evening.”
“Oh, I know dear. I heard all about the festival from my son and my daughter-in-law,” she said, her watery grey eyes brightening slightly. “Walter said he and May had a lovely time dancing the night away.”
“Walter?” asked Phyllis.
“Yes, dear. Oh, I’m sorry. Most of the people in Aspen Falls know him as Boomer. I still call him Walter, though.”
“Walter Wallace is your son’s real name?” asked Hazel with lifted brows.
She nodded. “Walter was my father’s name,” said Ellie. “I know Walter Wallace is a bit of a mouthful, but my father had just passed before Walter was born, and it meant so much to me to honor him in that way,” she said with a light smile. “Of course everyone wanted to nickname him Wally. Can you imagine a little boy in school called Wally Wallace? My husband was just sure that little Walter would get laughed out of the first grade with that name!” She snickered behind her hand at the memory. “So my husband started trying out nicknames, and somehow he started calling Walter Boomer, and that one stuck. He’s been Boomer to everyone but me since he was six months old.”
Gwyn laughed politely. “Oh, Ellie, what a fun story.”
Ellie’s broad smile brought some much-needed color to her pale cheeks. She sat up a little higher in bed. “Yes, it really is. I haven’t told anyone all of that in quite a few years.”
“Can we get you anything, Ellie?” asked Phyllis, sitting down at the foot of her bed? “Are you hungry?”
Ellie pointed across the room to her water bottle on a table. “You could pass me my water bottle, dear. I was going to ask Father Donovan to pass it to me, but we got to talking, and I plumb forgot.”
Phyllis patted her leg and then got up to get the bottle. “Sure thing.”
Hazel took a seat on the other side of Ellie’s bed. “Are you going to feel up to playing poker later tonight, Ellie? I hear someone’s putting together a game in the dining room after dinner.”
Ellie smiled at her. “I’m afraid I’m really not much of a poker player, Hazel.”
Hazel scooted further back in her seat. “Oh, that’s alright. You really do
n’t have to know how to play. It’s all in good fun,” she said with a half-smirk.
Gwyn stared down her mother. “Mother, I think I heard that that poker game was going to be canceled, unfortunately.”
Hazel puffed air out her nose. “They’re always canceling the fun stuff, aren’t they, Ellie?”
Ellie smiled at her. “Yes, it does seem like it, doesn’t it?”
“Would you like me to come to your room tonight? We could play a game of poker just the two of us. You have any money on you?”
Gwyn sighed. Her mother wasn’t going to let up on her own. She glanced over at Phyllis with pleading eyes. “You know, Phyllis, if Ellie has pneumonia, maybe Mother shouldn’t be in here.” She looked at Ellie then. “I just don’t want to pass it around The Village, you know?”
Ellie nodded her head as Hazel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest.
“Phyllis, maybe you could take Mom out to see how Char and Vic are doing? Olga and I will stay and visit Ellie.”
Phyllis stood up. “I think that’s a great idea. Come on, Haze. Let’s go see what Char’s up to.”
“I already know what she’s doing,” snapped Hazel. “She’s watching the talking dog outside. I don’t need to go check on her.”
“Mother, maybe you could go visit Miss Georgia and see if she’s gotten your French fries cooked already. I bet you’re starving since we didn’t have time for breakfast this morning. You could have an early lunch.”
Hazel pushed herself out of her chair and made a beeline for the door. “Bye, Ellie. If you’re feeling better later, I’ll bring my cards over.”
“Goodbye, Hazel, thank you for visiting me,” said Ellie as she waved goodbye.
When Hazel and Phyllis had gone, Gwyn leaned back in her seat. “Speaking of visits, that was really nice of Boomer to visit you after the festival.”
Ellie smiled agreeably. “Walter is such a good boy. And his wife, May, of course.”
“Did they stay long last night?” Gwyn scratched the base of her scalp as she spoke, trying to convey mild disinterest so as not to arouse any suspicion about her reason for asking.
“Oh, yes, they stayed quite awhile,” she said, crossing her hands politely in her lap. “There was a Matlock marathon on the television last night. I think Walter and May stayed for several episodes. I fell asleep a time or two, and when I woke up the two of them had fallen asleep on my sofa. I’m afraid I dozed off again, and when I woke up, they were gone.”
“You don’t have any idea what time that might have been?” asked Gwyn.
“That I woke up?” she asked.
Gwyn nodded.
“Oh dear, I’m afraid I don’t. It was probably two or three in the morning.”
Gwyn couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment. “Okay.”
“Is there a reason why, dear?” asked Ellie.
Gwyn shook her head. “No. I was just curious.”
Ellie nodded and leaned back in bed again. “Alright, because I was going to say that if you really needed to know, Arabella at the front counter should have the checkout sheet. I’m sure Walter and May checked out before leaving.”
Gwyn’s eyes widened as she shot Loni a repressed look of excitement. “Oh, sure. It’s not a big deal at all. You know, Ellie, talking about those French fries has really gotten me hungry. I think I might grab a bite to eat with Mom and Phyllis. Can I bring you anything?”
“Thank you, but Miss Georgia has already been in to visit me this morning, and she’s going to send lunch over in another half an hour. If you’re going to go, I think I might try and squeeze in a nap before she comes.”
“Perfect,” said Gwyn. She spent a moment helping Ellie pull the blanket up around her shoulders. “Would you like us to turn the lights off on our way out?”
Ellie nodded. “Please do. It’s been lovely talking to you. Maybe you could stop back with Hazel later and we’ll all play cards together. I’m afraid I might need someone to help me out a little.”
Gwyn stopped in the doorway before flipping off the lights. “I have a better idea. How about Mom and I come later and play Scrabble with you?”
Ellie smiled as the lights turned off. “Oh yes. I’m much better at Scrabble, and then I won’t lose my shirt either.”
28
It was well past lunchtime when Gwyn drove the women back to Kat’s house. They had all had lunch together at The Village, but it had been so busy and there had been so many sets of hearing aids turned up high that Gwyn and Char hadn’t felt comfortable discussing the case there.
“What’s taking Gwyn and Hazel so long?” asked Char the second she got into the car and had Vic belted in.
“Ellie didn’t know what time Boomer left The Village last night,” said Loni, straightening her scarf across her blond hair. “So she’s checking the sign-out sheet at the counter.”
“But did he actually go to see her after the festival?” asked Vic.
“Yep. He and his wife were really here,” sighed Loni. “She said they all fell asleep watching Matlock reruns.”
“Matlock!” said Char. “Oh my word, I haven’t seen an episode of Matlock in years!”
Phyllis looked at Char with a smile. “Don’t you just love Andy Griffith?”
“Oh, most definitely!” said Char.
The car doors opened and Gwyn slid into the driver’s seat.
“Okay, spill,” said Loni. “You checked the visitors’ log?”
Gwyn nodded as she plugged her key into the ignition. “I did. I’m sorry to report that everything Boomer said checked out. The Wallaces were both with Ellie until one forty-five in the morning. There’s no way Boomer could be our murderer!”
Hazel opened the passenger side and slowly climbed in.
“Hazel, what happened with your cane earlier?” asked Phyllis.
Hazel pulled her legs into the car and slowly shut the door. “I think it needs cleaning. It jammed. That never happens!”
“Or maybe you’re losing your magic touch,” suggested Gwyn with a half-smile. “I guess if you don’t use it, you lose it!”
“Gwyndolin Prescott, bite your tongue,” chastised Hazel. “I’m not losing anything!”
“When’s the last time you used your cane to zap anybody, Mom?”
Hazel’s mouth opened to shout back a snappy reply, but it suddenly became apparent that she couldn’t remember when the last time she’d used her cane to zap somebody had been! She stuttered, “I-I’m sure it was just the other day.”
“Mom,” Gwyn said, gently touching her mother’s leg, “I haven’t seen you zap anyone with your cane in probably five years. You can’t do it anymore, can you?”
“Of course I can!” shouted Hazel. “I just need to clean it is all. It jammed. I’ll have it up and running again in no time. And you’ll be the first to find out! Just to prove it to you! He-he,” laughed Hazel before turning to look out the window as Gwyn pulled away from the curb.
“Did you girls fill Char and Vic in on what Father Donovan said to us about Margaret Sutton?” asked Gwyn.
Char leaned forward. “They did!” she breathed. “I just can’t believe that a man of the cloth would say such horrid things!”
“I can,” snapped Hazel. “Just because they’re wearing a white collar doesn’t mean anything.”
“But to be so crass about a dead woman, just because she happens to be a witch, is infuriating!” said Phyllis.
Gwyn peered back at Char in her rearview mirror. “That’s the first time anyone told me that Margaret Sutton was a witch. Is it true?”
Char shrugged. “There are tons of witches in Aspen Falls. I don’t know them all. Not everyone went to school at the Institute.”
“If it is true, that’s just one more thing that Kat had in common with Margaret,” said Phyllis. “They were both in the gardening club, and they were both witches.”
“And now we know that Boomer Wallace couldn’t have killed her. Maybe one of the other members of the gar
dening club hated the fact that Kat always won that dumb award every year with her magical roses,” suggested Gwyn.
Gwyn turned the car down Blue Spruce Lane and parked in Kat’s driveway. “I think we need to check Kat’s garden for clues. The police thought she fell and hit her head, so they probably weren’t looking around much.”
“Yes!” agreed Phyllis. “Come on.”
Gwyn turned off the ignition, and together, the group walked up the front steps. But no sooner had Char unlocked the front door than a familiar face happened by, carrying a messenger bag of newspapers.
“Good afternoon, Ruben,” said Phyllis, taking the newspaper he handed her.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he replied, tipping his baseball cap to the women.
Char heard Ruben’s name and turned around. She still felt like there were unanswered questions when it came to him. He’d seemed as suspicious as a cat with a mouse tail hanging out of his mouth. “Say, Ruben. Before you run off, do you have time for a glass of lemonade?” called out Char.
Ruben wiped the beads of sweat off his brow and looked down at his watch. “I actually I do have time for a little break. It sure has turned into a mighty warm day,” he said. “I’d love a glass of lemonade.”
Gwyn looked at Char curiously, and when Char winked at her, Gwyn smiled sweetly. “Oh, wonderful! I’ll just run inside and make us all a glass, and we’ll sit out here on Kat’s covered porch and enjoy the breeze. I wish we had some cookies to offer you, but unfortunately, we need to do a little grocery shopping this afternoon.”
Ruben smiled politely. “Oh, thank you, but the lemonade is just fine anyway.”
“Alright, I’ll be back in a jiffy!”
“I’ll help you,” said Loni and followed Gwyn inside.
Phyllis waved Ruben up to the porch, where he took a seat on the little green settee in front of the parlor window. Phyllis sat down next to him. “How’s your morning going, Ruben?” asked Phyllis.
He took off his ball cap and combed his fingers through his damp curly hair. “It’s going well. I’m actually a little ahead of schedule today.” He flashed a set of perfectly straight teeth at the women.
That Old Witch!: The Coffee Coven's Cozy Capers: Book 1 Page 21