Witch Way To Amethyst: The Prequel (A Stacy Justice Mystery Book 0)

by Barbra Annino

  I must admit it gave me peace of mind to know that Thor, all 180 pounds of him, chased whoever it was around the cottage and then took a bite out of him.

  "Deal. I'll bring him around once in a while to visit you. But you foot the food bill."

  "Done. I’ll drop some off later. So what's our game plan?"

  "Well, assuming Gramps is in good shape, which I think he will be, we get some info from him and ask for the money to bail out Birdie. Although she may not go before a judge until Monday since she won’t let me call anyone to speed things up. Hopefully, he won't hold the reason she’s in there in the first place against her. Then we get her out and hopefully she can help me figure this out."

  "I hate to bring this up but I have to get the bar open by noon," Cin said.

  I checked my phone. It was 10:30 in the morning.

  "That's fine. I can get Birdie out on my own. I'll stop in later if I need to pick your brain. I've been out of the loop for a while, so I have no idea what business ventures Gramps has been up to."

  "Check."

  She swung the car into the parking lot and we jumped out. The day was warm and windy with a few fallen branches littering the road from yesterday's storm. The sun shone through trace clouds and the T-tops were off the car. Cin straightened her hair in the rear-view mirror and pushed her gold sunglasses up the bridge of her nose.

  I zipped my hooded sweatshirt, tightened my ball cap and headed for the doors. Cin was right behind me as we sailed through. My high school chum, Lynn, sat behind the front desk.

  "Don't you ever leave?" I asked.

  Lynn laughed. "Hey, Cinnamon. That was a great band at The Opal the other night.”

  My cousin affects people in one of two ways. Either they're afraid of her or they want to be her. I guessed Lynn fell into the second group.

  "Thanks," Cin said, sunglasses now on her head.

  Gramps was watching the Bears lose when we got to the room. "What are you trying to do? Walk it into the end zone? For chrissakes," he yelled at the television.

  "You tell 'em, Gramps," Cin said. "They'll never be like the '85 Bears."

  He shifted his head our way. "Hey, hey. My two favorite granddaughters," he said. He sounded strong.

  I leaned over to kiss his cheek. "You have another one somewhere we don't know about?" I joked.

  Pearl came into the room then. "What a nice surprise. Hello, girls." She walked over to give us each a peck on the cheek. We hugged her back.

  "Sorry we didn't bring you anything, Gramps. We weren't sure if we were allowed to after, um," I wasn't sure how to finish that thought so I said, "the other day."

  I was talking about Birdie's little stunt. I had no idea why I brought it up but considering the response I got I wished I had kept my mouth shut. Pearl grimaced at the mention of "the other day" and reached for her knitting. Cin rolled her eyes and tapped me with the back of her hand.

  "What do you mean? Your grandmother? Bah!" Gramps said. "Sweetheart, I have been putting up with her antics my whole life. She doesn't bother me. She's a little loopy, you know." He said this as he made a circle with his index finger near his temple.

  "I've heard that," I said.

  "She's dangerous," said Pearl from her chair.

  "Now, Pearl, you know that's not true," Gramps said.

  "Oscar, how else do you explain this?" She motioned to the hospital bed.

  Holy crap. She thought Birdie was guilty. Now how was I going to ask for the money?

  "She should be locked up, that one." Pearl focused back on her yarn, stabbing the needle through it.

  That would have been a nice segue. Speaking of locked up, have you got ten grand I could borrow?

  Gramps made a what are you gonna do? face.

  Cinnamon changed the subject. "Mom says she has a batch of cannolis with your name on it when you're better."

  "You tell your mother I'll be there in no time to take her up on that," Gramps said. "And you.” He pointed at me. “Don't you have a job to get back to?"

  "The news can wait," I said. "You're more important."

  "I'm fine." He leaned over, still staring at me. "Where'd you get that beauty?" Referring to the bruise from the doorknob.

  "Bar fight," I said.

  Gramps laughed. So did Cinnamon.

  "Not you, I don't believe it. You maybe." He waved at Cin.

  My turn to laugh.

  "Hey," Cin said, pretending to be offended.

  "Where is that nurse?" said Pearl. "It's time for your grandfather's medicine."

  Cin walked over to the doorway and ducked down the hall. "Don't see anyone, Pearl."

  Pearl sighed and placed her knitting on the table. "I better go check." She rose from her chair. "Don't let him have any sweets," she said as she strolled from the room.

  Gramps waited until she was gone. "Okay, where is it?"

  "Where's what?" I asked.

  "Right here." Cin reached into her purse and produced two cookies wrapped in wax paper. She handed them to Gramps.

  "Almond cookies. What are you doing to me? I need chocolate, sweetheart," he said in a hushed voice.

  "I know, but that's all Mom had ready this morning. I'll bring you chocolate chip later," Cin said.

  "I can't wait that long. You have to go to the gift shop or the vending machine or something. I need a fix." He had the look of a strung-out junkie. He wasn't kidding.

  "Geesh, fine," Cin said.

  Gramps relaxed. "Now, what is it you two want to talk to me about?" Cin and I exchanged looks.

  "Come on, let's have it before the warden comes back," he said.

  "Birdie's in trouble," I blurted out.

  Gramps sat up a little straighter.

  I explained her arrest, her reason for confessing, and the insurance policy. Gramps shook his head and stared at the bedrail.

  "She didn't know, you know," he said quietly. "No one did. I only told the police because they asked if I had any life insurance and if I did, who the beneficiaries were. There are trusts, investments, but I wanted to do that for your grandmother."

  "Are you sure she didn't know?" I asked.

  "The only two people who knew about that policy besides the insurance agent was me and my lawyer. Not even Pearl."

  "Gramps, why would you even do that? Why would you take out such a huge policy and then put it in Birdie's name?" I asked.

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t you just leave her a portion of your estate?” Cin asked.

  Gramps swiveled his head from Cinnamon to me. He sighed, then smiled. "Listen, the day I married your grandmother, I made a promise to her. I said that I would always take care of her, no matter what. I never break a promise. And knowing that stubborn woman, she wouldn’t take a cent if she could grant her share to another family member. This way it was a windfall. A gift to her when I died."

  The way Birdie talked, that would be gift enough.

  I glanced at Cin. Did I see a tear in her eye?

  Cin cleared her throat. "You're something, Gramps."

  He laughed. "People can't always live together. Doesn't mean they don't love each other." He stared at Cin as he said that.

  "Now, Stacy, you go to Stan Plough and you tell him that you need that money. He should be able to arrange for you to get a check today."

  "Don't I need your signature or something?" I asked.

  "Stan's a good friend. He'll do it," he said.

  "Who will do what?" said Pearl as she entered the room.

  "Stacy here wants a ride on Wildcat’s Harley.” Gramps squeezed my hand and winked. "Why don't you girls go grab those magazines I wanted."

  "We're on it," said Cin, yanking me through the door. I smiled at a nurse carrying a tray into Gramps' room.

  I said, “Damn, I hoped to talk to him without Pearl.”

  “I’ll take her for coffee when we go back up.”

  We hopped on the elevator to the main floor and followed the signs that pointed to the gift shop. The shelves were filled with
picture frames, greeting cards, magazines, books, and bouquets. A vanilla candle failed to mask the antiseptic scent of the rest of the hospital.

  "What should we get him?" I approached a table loaded with candy boxes wrapped with shiny white paper.

  "I think he likes chocolate-covered cherries," said Cin.

  I read the stickers on the boxes. Chocolate-covered orange peels, caramel clusters, mint medallions, coconut haystacks, fudge, peanut brittle. No cherries.

  "I don't see any." I scanned the other aisles. On the far wall, there was one lone box, covered in red paper with a matching bow. "Maybe that one has cherries," I said.

  We walked over and I plucked the box from the shelf. Beneath it sat a penny. I picked it up and checked the date. It was newer than the others.

  Birdie’s voice came into my head again. Follow the signs. Heed the messages. I had four pennies now. And no clue what they meant.

  "What happened that year?" Cinnamon asked over my shoulder. Cinnamon graduated with honors from Birdie's school of superstitions.

  "Didn't Chance move here then?" Cin asked.

  My brow wrinkled. She was right. But what would he have to do with any of this? I tucked the penny into my pocket.

  "Are you still saving pennies?"

  "Yes. I've been finding them everywhere, Cin. It's the strangest thing. I used to just pick one up once in a while. If I was having a bad day or something great just happened and I had no one to share it with, there it would be. A penny. And I would think, 'Dad's here with me.' But ever since your phone call, they're everywhere."

  "Spooky," she said.

  I nodded and glanced at the candy. "It would look pretty funny if we don't come back with magazines."

  "You're right."

  I grabbed Time, National Geographic and Newsweek. Cin grabbed Car and Driver. We paid for everything and headed back up to the room.

  Wildcat was yelling at Dr. Gates when we stepped off the elevator.

  “Now you listen to me, Dickless Joe.” He poked him and Gates shrunk back a bit. “I’m not leaving until I talk to my friend.” The two men stood in front of Gramps’ door.

  "What's going on?" I asked.

  “This jockstrap thinks he can order me around.” Wildcat took a step forward and said, “I got socks older than you.”

  Gates didn’t bother to hide his agitation. He turned to me. “The nurse is taking your grandfather’s vital signs, and administering his medication. We asked him to wait out here for a moment.” Gates walked off.

  “Wildcat, relax,” said Cin. “In a minute, you can go in and see him.”

  “No I can’t. Pearl don’t want me in there,” Wildcat said.

  I said to Wildcat, “I’ll talk to her.”

  I couldn’t see why Pearl would want to keep Gramps from his friend, but the fact was she wasn’t family. She had no right to make those requests.

  The nurse threw the door open then and said, “Doctor, come quickly.”

  Gates jogged back and we all followed behind him. Gramps had his eyes shut. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing and Cin grabbed my hand.

  “What happened?” The doctor asked. He flashed a light in Gramps’ eyes. They were vacant.

  The nurse was talking too fast for me to make out what she was saying. Then the doctor said, "Pentobarbital!" He darted his eyes at us. "Get these people out of here and get a crash cart."

  The nurse ushered the three of us through the door and yelled down the hall.

  We all stood there in silence for a minute, staring at the door.

  Cinnamon was the first to speak. "He's a tough old goat. He'll be fine."

  Wildcat didn’t say anything.

  Two thoughts ran through my mind. The first was if Gramps died, how would I ever clear Birdie?

  The second was, What the hell is Pentobarbital?

  Chapter 20

  We had been sitting in the lobby for an hour waiting for someone to give us an update when Cinnamon pulled me aside.

  "Take my car and go get Birdie." She handed me the key.

  I shook my head. "No." A little because I felt I should wait and see how Gramps was, but mostly because if anything happened to her car Cinnamon would kick my ass.

  "Stace, it's all right. Someone has to get Birdie out of that cell and Gramps thought you should be the one to talk to Stan."

  My gaze fell on Pearl. She was flipping through a magazine, frowning. I wondered how she felt. Couldn’t be easy what she was going through. "You'll stay with her?"

  Cin nodded. "I'll call Bay. He can open the bar and Wildcat can drop me there later. I'll take Pearl to the cafeteria and we'll get something to eat. Take her mind off of things."

  “Did you call her niece?”

  “Pearl said she was by this morning. She’s doing some work at the Palace now.”

  We glanced sideways at Pearl for a minute.

  “Listen, something’s not right with Gretchen,” I said in a hushed tone.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I don’t know exactly. I get a weird vibe from her.”

  “I know what you mean. She seemed to show up out of nowhere and now she’s in their business, doing their books.”

  “Their books? I thought she was just helping out with paperwork at the restaurant.”

  “Yeah, that’s what she told me too, but Pearl said she’s an accountant so she was coaching Gramps and her on some investments. Pearl sounded happy about it, but I thought it was strange.”

  Me too. Why lie? Unless you’re hiding something.

  "I'll leave my phone on. Keep me posted,” I said.

  I walked over and bent down to kiss Pearl on the cheek. "I have to go take care of some things, but Cin's going to stay here with you, okay? I'll be back as soon as I can."

  She lifted her face and squeezed my hand. Her eyes were weary, dark. Like she had been locked in a closet for a week.

  "You're good girls." Her voice thin.

  I wanted to ask her Gretchen’s last name, but I didn’t think it was the best time. Maybe I would just head to the Palace and find out a few things myself.

  Lynn was still at her post when I reached the exit. "Hi Stacy," she said in a low voice. She glanced over her shoulder.

  "Hi Lynn," I said, rushing past her.

  "Wait.” She reached out.

  I stopped and looked at her. "I'm kind of in a hurry."

  Lynn fired her words at me. "You know that nurse? The one who was looking after your grandpa?"

  "You mean the highly incompetent one? Yes, I remember her."

  "No, that's just it, see. She isn't." Lynn glanced around again.

  "She isn't what?"

  "Incompetent."

  "What are you saying?" I asked. I felt like I was playing charades.

  A visitor approached us then and asked Lynn if he could speak with her.

  "Certainly," she said and turned to help. She peered back over her shoulder and gave a weak smile.

  Chapter 21

  I thought about what Lynn said as I carefully maneuvered Cinnamon's car down the highway. She was trying to tell me something, but what? That this latest setback for my grandfather was also no accident? If that were true, I needed to get some answers fast.

  I slid up next to the curb in front of Stan and Bea Plough's house a few minutes later, glancing at the Geraghty Girls’ House.

  The Ploughs' home was a two-story federal brick set back from the road. I followed the cement walkway, stepped onto the porch and cranked the old-fashioned doorbell.

  Bea Plough, Stan's wife, answered the door. "Yes?" Her voice was firm, authoritative.

  She didn't look happy to see me.

  "Hello, Mrs. Plough, I'm Stacy Justice--"

  "I know who you are, Stacy," Mrs. Plough said. Mrs. Plough taught Sunday school at St. Mary's Catholic church. Rumor had it that anyone who didn't recite a Psalm accurately got whacked with her wooden paddle. That was one blessing of Birdie's house. I never had to sit in Mrs. Plough's class.


  "Of course, excuse me. Would it be possible to speak with Mr. Plough? It's rather urgent," I pleaded.

  Bea pursed her lips and smoothed out her gray skirt. Her hair was knotted in a bun that rested on top of her pink scalp, like a dollop of whipped cream on a scoop of strawberry swirl. "I'm afraid Mr. Plough is indisposed at this time," she said and shut the door in my face.

  I cranked the bell again.

  After a moment, the door creaked open.

  "Yes?"

  "Please, would you happen to know where I could find him?"

  "No." Slam.

  Gave the bell another turn.

  "What!"

  "May I please wait here for your husband? Mrs. Pl--"

  "No." Slam. Lock.

  Oh, this bitch was asking for it.

  Ring, knock, ring, knock. Ring! Knock!

  The door opened again. "Stop that!"

  "Look, lady, I can play this game all goddamn day, so just let me leave a message for your husband or tell me where he is so I can speak with him myself."

  "What's going on out here, Bea?" Stan said behind her.

  Lied to by a Sunday school teacher. Wasn’t that the definition of hypocrisy?

  "It's nothing," Mrs. Plough said over her shoulder.

  "Mr. Plough," I called.

  "Who is that?" Mr. Plough came forward and his wife stepped aside. "Stacy?"

  "Hello, Mr. Plough, may I please have a word with you?"

  "Well certainly, come in, come in. Bea, would you please get Stacy an iced tea?"

  I held up my hand. "No. I'm fine." She'd probably spit in it. "I would just like a moment of your time."

  "Why don't we go into the study?" Mr. Plough outstretched his arm towards double pocket doors to the left of the entry hall.

  I nodded and followed his lead. "Thank you."

  The parquet floors were laid in a geometric pattern with a sundial star in the center. Law books filled floor to ceiling bookshelves and two brown leather chairs faced a long cherry wood desk. The room was warm. A stark contrast to the foyer.

  "Have a seat," said Mr. Plough, closing the pocket doors behind him.