Magic, Mayhem and Murder

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Magic, Mayhem and Murder Page 12

by January Bain


  I checked the bedside clock. I’d better hurry into the shower and prepare for the day. And hopefully this one would prove less exciting. Please, please. My heart rate sped up alarmingly, another thought firing in my brain. Granny would be home today and learn what was going on, and the crime, instead of being solved, had been compounded.

  I jumped up, annoying Ling Ling with the abrupt departure from her rightful massage, a stark series of meowing complaints for my efforts following me all the way to the bathroom.

  “Sorry, baby, got to get going, or that lawman might catch me unprepared.” I showered in record time, not bothering to do more than apply a swipe of lip gloss and pull my hair into a neat ponytail.

  “Okay. Will I do?” I asked Ling Ling, bending down and adding a few extra love pats.

  She meowed in the affirmative, leading the royal way into my apartment’s small kitchen nook, tail held like the standard bearer of our ancient clan. I needed to make time today to give her a serious combing—bits of white fluff danced through the air at each planted paw on the linoleum.

  I reached into the cupboard for a tin of Fancy Feast, agreeing with our furry companion that chicken and gravy was the breakfast of champions. While Ling Ling got down to the serious business of picky eating, I put on a pot of coffee and made myself a quick bowl of oats.

  After adding a sprinkling of brown sugar and cream, I consumed my breakfast, eating quickly over the sink in case of an interruption. And there was always an interruption because someone needed something. Not that I truly minded. Family was family, the most important thing in the world.

  I scrubbed my bowl in the sink, dried it then tucked it back into the cupboard. There was no money for a dishwasher but that was no problem—elbow grease was free. I picked up my cup of coffee, surprised I’d had so much time alone, and made my way downstairs. The back of the café was empty as well, not a soul in sight. Hmm. Odd.

  The front of the café was still deserted too, the lights off. I switched them on and went to the front window that looked out on the street, pulling up the horizontal venetian blinds by the knotted cord. It was quiet on Main Street, just a few stragglers making their way to their businesses. Of course, it was early. I took a sip of my coffee, contemplating the day while watching the activity. It boded well, I congratulated myself, that no one was running around yelling the sky was falling. Even though a part of me wondered if it had already happened while I wasn’t looking. Most likely scenario.

  Deciding it was too soon to open the café unless someone was banging on the door, I hurried back to the kitchen, Ling Ling at my heels. With Granny due home today, I’d better use wisely what could be my last few hours of freedom. Duck and dive the Mountie while trying to get at the truth. Something told me he’d not be all that unhappy to throw my behind in jail if the opportunity presented itself.

  A candid talk with Emma was the first thing on my new agenda. I opened the back door and ran smack right into a wall. Again.

  “We have to quit meeting like this,” he quipped, his tone all jovial and nicey-nicey.

  I mumbled something, a rise of anger and dread making my throat tighten. The last person I’d wanted to run into right then was Constable Ace Collins.

  What had that been? A half-hour of uninterrupted bliss before the circus began? Hardly fair.

  “Glad I ran into you, darlin’. We need to talk.”

  That made one of us.

  “Care to go back inside?” he asked. Dressed in his Mountie uniform, fresh from the shower, he presented a formidable, all-too-nice-smelling package.

  “Whatever.”

  “Do I detect a hint of reluctance on your part?”

  “Not at all, Officer. I’d love to be questioned about something I had nothing to do with. Just makes my day.” Why am I being like this?

  He rubbed the nape of his neck, following me back into the café. He set his Stetson carefully on a chair, then ran his hand over his hair to smooth it. It looked unnecessary. In fact, everything about the lawman seemed a bit too posh. Why had I ever thought he was the right man for Star?

  “Would you like coffee?” Etiquette runs deep in our family, even when we’d like to push people into an alley and pull up the drawbridge.

  “No, I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Then have a seat. You’re making me all antsy.” Not to mention I had to crank my head to look up at him. I rubbed the back of my neck to ease the tension, his focus unnerving.

  He sat down across from me, the expression in his eyes unreadable. I folded my hands on the table top and waited. He cleared his throat but didn’t say anything. What, no witty banter this morning? This is serious.

  “Are you here in an official capacity, Constable Collins?”

  “I’m just trying to get to the facts of the case. Find out why the murder rate in this town, that has been nil for more than a decade, now resides at two in two days. I would think that would be of interest to you as well, Miss McCall, being a town supporter and all.”

  “Yes, of course. I will help in any way I can.” Properly chastised, I pressed my lips together.

  He nodded his approval. “Why did you take brownies to Boyd Thompson last evening?”

  “I wanted to get on his good side, pick his brain. He has a fondness for my triple chocolate variety with buttercream frosting.”

  “Had,” he corrected me.

  I winced. “Yeah. Are you sending them in for testing? Along with the coffee pods?”

  “Seems like the thing to do, yes. We’ll know by later today. I put a rush on it. Sooner you’re cleared, the better, unless your brownies prove it overwise. Anyone else have an opportunity to mess with them?”

  My heart slammed. “No. I baked them fresh. Even ate some of the batter raw. And I’m fine.”

  “I can see that.” He rubbed the back of his head, wincing.

  “Something wrong?”

  “No. It’s nothing. Someone sucker-punched me with something last night, maybe a baseball bat or tire iron, when I was leaving Boyd’s Wheels with the evidence I’d collected. I was going out of the back with the lights off. They tried to grab the bag, but I managed to hold on to it and drive them off. Kind of touch and go, but the strong arm of the law prevailed.” He gave a lop-sided grin.

  I sat up straighter. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had worse headaches.”

  “So, someone’s worried that what you find will incriminate them. Now we’re talking. Any surveillance at the back of Boyd’s?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Already checked. The perp was wearing a ski mask, if that helps.”

  “Lots of those in this town. You’ll be buying one yourself come winter.”

  A soft knock on the back door drew my attention. “Excuse me.”

  I opened the door to find Helen Davis with a friend in tow—Elsie Arnold, her next-door neighbor.

  “I hope we’re not bothering you, dear. But we have a matter we’d like to discuss with you,” Helen said, her expression serious. Elsie added an enthusiastic nod.

  “Okay. Come on in. Would you like some coffee?”

  Ace got to his feet, his chair scraping on the floor. “Ladies.” He gave a charming smile that made both women light up like it was Christmas and Easter and Valentine’s all rolled into one. He picked up his hat, addressing me. “I’ll be going now. We can continue this later.”

  “Sure, anytime.”

  His eyes warmed at my words and he gave me a courteous salute with his Stetson. There’s something about a lawman in a hat…

  “My, what a gentleman,” Elsie twittered.

  “He does seem to have taken a liking to you, Charm,” Helen added, a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Ah, did anyone say yes to coffee?”

  “No, we’re fine, dear. But we’d like to sit and have a chat with you.”

  I gestured at the chairs around the kitchen table. “Will this do?”

  “Fine.” The two women sat, hanging their purses out of the way on t
he backs of their chairs. Both leaned forward, drawing me in.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Seems that your visit of the other day had some rather good side effects on my health.”

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” I smiled warmly at Helen, noting her high color and the healthy sheen to her skin. Did she have fewer wrinkles, as though she’d gone in for a facial lift or something? It wouldn’t be polite to ask, though, so I kept quiet, waiting.

  “Now, I don’t need a doctor to tell me I’m a hundred percent better.” Helen sounded stronger as well, her tone suggesting she’d not be suffering fools gladly.

  I nodded. Where was this headed? I glanced at Elsie. She was favoring her right shoulder, wincing when she rubbed it.

  I glanced back at Helen, who gave a nod at her friend. “Elsie’s hurt her shoulder in a fall and I think you can help her. Will you do for her what you did for me, Charm?”

  “Ah, I don’t know if I can. I’m really not sure what I did. Maybe it was all coincidence.” I shrugged, though a part of me was ecstatic to have it confirmed that I had not harmed the woman with my intentions. I crossed my fingers. Please let it hold, goddess.

  “No. It was far more than that. I felt the healing. And now I’m right as rain. It won’t hurt to try, dear.”

  “And I do want to get away from using medical cannabis if I can,” Elsie said, startling me and making the recent conversation with Tulip about making edibles to bring in more money come to mind. “For my glaucoma. It helps ease eye pressure,” she confirmed. I tucked the information away for now.

  “I didn’t know you had eye problems and taken a fall. I’m sorry to hear that. Okay, I can try.”

  “Thank you, dear.”

  “What do I do?” Elsie asked. She was a tiny little woman, bird-like with pretty eyes. Her curly gray hair was styled rather clumsily, a product most likely of her bad shoulder.

  “I just need to hold your hands while you think about what’s troubling you.” I reached to take her frail-looking hands, careful not to grasp them too tight. Her fingers were swollen and bent from arthritis and could be painful.

  Helen smiled at her friend, giving her a nod of encouragement. “Do as she asks, Elsie, it can’t hurt.”

  “Now, close your eyes,” I said.

  Elsie’s cool, thin fingers trembled in mine. I closed my own eyes, letting my mind roam free.

  An image appeared. Again, I followed a strange path through her inner body, zooming down nerves that branched and curved as if I was gliding on a bobsled down a given track, leading me onward. But instead of finding an invader, I found some purple-red bruising in a muscle that looked attached to her shoulder. I sent thoughts of it being healed and of the area losing its inflammation, feeling rays of power pulse into it at my direction. Make it work perfectly, I prayed to the goddess.

  But it didn’t end there. The journey continued, with a sensation of rising higher, to the beautiful sight that was her brain. Ah, nirvana. An electronic marvel that made me give a gasp I managed to stifle completely, not wanting to interrupt the beauty of discovery. And then I was on a long curving section that opened in the distance to an egg-like shape. An eyeball. The nerve appeared squeezed in one spot like a bent tube, and I tried freeing it, giving it back its rightful rounded shape. When it finally filled out, I felt such incredible joy that I was nearly overcome, tears running down my face unheeded.

  And then with a rush I was back at the beginning, holding her twisted hands. Could they be helped as well? I gave them what little energy I had left, envisioning them straight and true. I gasped, suddenly wrenched free of her. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, falling back against my chair.

  The two women were staring at me, mesmerized, unblinking.

  “Are you okay, dear?” Helen asked, her eyes dark with worry. “You’re crying.”

  I swiped at my cheeks, surprised my hand was trembling. “I’m fine. Just need to catch my breath. How are you, Elsie?”

  “Fine, I think. I’m feeling kind of energized.” She moved her shoulder tentatively, a smile lighting her face. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” She beamed at me. “You healed it.”

  “I don’t know. I hope so. Better have a doctor look at it though.”

  “No need. It’s fine.”

  “What did you see, dear?” Helen asked, her bright blue eyes filled with curiosity.

  The door opened and voices came through loud and clear.

  “No! Absolutely not! Charm will kill us.”

  My sisters rushed in, squabbling as usual, their arms filled with trays of fresh-baked cookies. Right, the bake sale was today, although I wasn’t sure how many people would buy something from our café.

  “Phhht. Once it’s done, she’ll come around. Way more benefits than not, especially as things stand.”

  The both stopped dead in their tracks when they spotted company.

  I got up, swaying a bit before I got my bearings. I waved off Helen’s assistance.

  “I will kill you both if you don’t share. Right now!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Ah, we’ll be going now. Thanks for your help, Charm.” Helen and Elsie made a beeline for the door. My not-so-adorable sisters make room for the two women to escape.

  “So, what were Elsie and Helen doing here?” Tulip asked, setting her burden on the counter beside Tulip’s.

  “What were you two talking about?” I stood strong, hands on hips.

  “Nothing that matters. We’re more worried about you. What’s going on, Charm? Was the Mountie here? Are you under investigation?” Star rushed to my side, giving me a hug. Tulip came in from the other side and we stood together. I took a deep breath.

  I swiped another annoying tear from my cheek. No matter what, family was family.

  “Okay, what’s the plan of action?” Tulip asked, pulling away.

  “Why would anyone set us up? That’s the hardest part for me to swallow,” Star volunteered.

  “Jealousy. You’re good enough for Nashville, sis,” Tulip said.

  My mind churned. “So, what’s the deal with the bake sale today?”

  “Tulip’s looking after it, I’m working the café and you’re solving the mystery.”

  “Sounds doable.” I smiled at my fellow triplets. “At least I’ve managed to rule out all the suspects except for Sean at the moment, but I just can’t believe he killed his best friend. So I don’t know what to think. I’m heading over to Emma’s to get her take on it, if you have everything covered?”

  “You bet.” The look-a-likes nodded in unison.

  “Thanks.”

  I hurried over to Thor and turned the key. Nothing. No, don’t fail me now. I gave a little prayer to the goddess, stroked his dash and tried again. Ah, there we go. Rewarded with a powerful purr, we were off, heading down the alley.

  Emma’s house looked deserted, the tiny one-storey gingerbread cottage dark, blinds drawn. Maybe she’d slept in? She’d been pretty upset about her aunt.

  I picked up the package of cookies I’d brought and strode to her front door. Banging loudly on the doorframe, I balanced the cookies in one hand and slipped Thor’s keys into my pocket.

  A second series of knocks brought no response. Where was she? Turning away, I glanced around, chewing on my bottom lip. Maybe she was out back? Emma loved to garden, saying it was the only place she found complete peace. Having an aunt like Mrs. Hurst explained everything.

  I came around the corner of the house, nearly banging into my friend.

  “Hey, Emma, I’ve been knocking for ages. You okay?”

  She looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept a wink, dark circles under her eyes.

  “Yeah, just about to head in. Want some tea?”

  “Sure.” I followed her through the back door and sat down at her small kitchen table while she put the kettle on to boil.

  “Terrible thing about Boyd,” I said, watching her pull a couple of tea bags from a tin.

  “I c
an hardly believe it. First my aunt, now Boyd Thompson. What’s going on, Charm?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, but it’s hard to take in, all right. And it looks like someone is trying to frame me.”

  “Oh my, I don’t know what to say to that except you could never do such a thing. No one can believe that you would. It’s crazy.”

  She sat down across from me, picked up a jar of our Saskatoon jam from last year and began nervously picking the label off it. Watching her fingers move made me flash back to the night we’d found Mrs. Hurst dead in her kitchen. The apricot jam jar on the table. I tried to picture it but failed.

  “I need to make a call.” I got up, raced to her phone, dialed the number for the detachment and waited.

  “Snowy Lake RCMP.”

  “Constable Collins, please.”

  “Hi, Charm. Thought I recognized your voice. How’s it going?”

  “Fine, thanks for asking, Delores. How are you?” Delores works the day shift as a dispatcher.

  “Good, considering what’s been going on. My—oh—my, more than enough excitement to go around. I’ll patch you through to Ace now. One moment, please.”

  “Constable Collins.”

  “Ace, it’s Charm. I need to ask you something.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Maybe not a good choice of word,” I teased, trying to hide my worry under my words. “The jar of jam found at Mrs. Hurst’s with the cyanide. Did it have a label?”

  “I don’t know. Is it important?”

  “Well, if it did, it was from an earlier batch. The one Mrs. Hurst took home in the morning—I hadn’t had time to label it yet. Which means it broadens the field of suspects. Possibly a lot.”

  “I’ll get right back to you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I put the phone back in place and turned to my best friend.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, pouring the freshly made tea into china teacups.

  “I’m thinking this might have gotten a whole lot more complicated.” Much as I wanted to get at the truth, if the jar had been from an earlier batch, the list of suspects could be enormous. I hadn’t made apricot jam since last week. Checking every visitor, if Suzanna could remember them all, would take a lot more time. I prayed for some kind of log or security camera if the field got expanded. But the cash banking deposits were still our best bet. Three suspicious payments each month. Though with Boyd gone and being one of those blackmailed, according to Sean, it looked like it was down to two, if indeed she was hitting up others for money. My instincts screamed yes. But who were those people?

 

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