A Corpse at the Polls
an Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic cozy mystery
Lisbeth Reade
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
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Chapter 1
"This time, try not to pop the bubble," Aunt Hazel said for the tenth time.
Aunt Sarah sat on the porch blowing bubbles.
I was trying to use a spell to blow the bubbles through a hoop that Aunt Hazel held high above her head. So far I wasn't getting anywhere. The bubbles kept popping. I sighed. At least the weather was cooperating by being sunny and clear. The magic clearly was not.
"You said this was a simple spell," I huffed.
"No, we said it did a simple thing," Hazel corrected. "Magic is never easy. It if was, everyone would do it and no one would need microwave ovens. Take a breath. Let it out slow. Feel the magic. Feel the spell and try again."
I closed my eyes. I tugged at that part of me that felt magical and I tried to feel the spell. Aunt Sarah blew a batch of fresh bubbles. I caught one and used a gentle wind to push it towards the hoop. It was so close to the hoop I could taste it. I was definitely going to do it this time. I felt a surge of adrenaline and all the bubbles popped at once.
Aunt Sarah laughed. "I did the same thing when I was learning. You got too excited and the extra energy had to go somewhere."
"I murdered all my bubbles." I said sadly. Sitting down next to Sarah, I put my head on her shoulder. "I'm a soap serial killer."
Hazel dropped the hoop. "You're powerful, Ella. This is delicate stuff. You crushed an ant with a truck. Too much. You have to learn to exert just a hint of force. We'll try again later. But you did well!"
I wasn't a witch by trade. I was actually an aromatherapist. I even made my own oils in the summer and spring. The witch thing was new. My aunts had come to live with me on my twenty-second birthday, which apparently is when you get to be magical. Life was definitely more interesting now with my new aunts and magic lessons, but I still had a job to do.
Helen Christianson had called me this morning for an appointment. The tall, elegant brunette was running for mayor and was understandably stressed. She and I had a regular appointment once a month, but she had moved it up. I was excited. Helen was pleasant company and a gracious hostess who always served guests tea from her antique silver tea set before we got started. She was one of my favorite clients.
She wasn't my only one, either. I was getting a reputation in town. My oil blends and sachets were becoming all the rage. I wasn't going to be on TV anytime soon but my dance card was getting pretty full. Any fuller and it might affect my magical training.
Auntie Joe came outside with a pitcher of iced tea and some tea cakes on a tray. "Did you hear who's running for mayor this year?"
"Of course," Sarah told her. "The mayoral race is all anyone's been talking about for weeks. Most people think the mayor is going to get reelected, and this is just a waste of time. He's got the biggest campaign and people are used to him. Personally, though, I'd like to see Helen win."
"Helen Christianson is amazing," Auntie Joe agreed. "She started two animal shelters and a meal program for the homeless. I like her style."
"And I like her because she's my client," I said. "I'm all about loyalty. Besides, she is always so open and honest with everyone. That has to be a good quality in a mayor. Current Mayor Mark Strous is who the Stewarts are voting for."
"Now I know why you don't like him," Aunt Hazel said. "You wouldn't support butter on toast if Max Stewart agreed with it."
I laughed and took a tea cake. "Maybe. I just don't trust Max. So by extension I don't trust Max's opinions."
"Who else is running?" Auntie Joe asked, skimming her paper to see if she could catch the names.
I knew without looking. "Caitlyn Jones and Mike Hutchens."
"Jones is the one who doesn't like cats," Aunt Hazel said with a scowl. "She's not getting my vote."
"She's allergic to cats. She doesn't hate them." I told her, but she just sniffed. "What about Hutchens?"
Sarah frowned. "I like some of his ideas. I just like Helen's more. What are your parents going to do?"
I shrugged. "Mother doesn't discuss politics or religion in public forums. But she'll probably vote for Helen."
"Are you seeing Rory today?" Auntie Joe asked, obviously tired of the political conversation she had started.
"No," I said. "He's working overtime at the post office. With all the rallies, there are tons of buttons and flyers waiting to be delivered. We're meeting for lunch tomorrow since it's Saturday."
"Not a dinner date?" Aunt Hazel asked.
"Ha, not if I want him awake and alert. They've had him getting up an hour earlier and staying an hour later at work. He'll be asleep in the seat if I take him to a movie." I grinned at them.
"Can't have him sleeping on dates," Aunt Sarah said. "That would never do."
"Tell me about it. Well I better go get my bag. I have an appointment with Helen Christianson in a half hour. She called this morning. Apparently the election is ramping up and she needs aromatherapy help. I don't want to be late." I waved at my aunts and rushed inside the house. I took the grand staircase two at a time, almost crashing into my father.
"Hi," he greeted me with a smile.
"You're home early,” I said and hugged him. He smelled like tangelos and marjoram. He always wore the best colognes. "You smell fantastic."
"Thanks," he said. "Coming from an aromatherapist that's a high compliment. Going to work?"
"Yes," I said. "Just gotta grab my bag. That's why I almost knocked you down."
"I won't get in your way. I promised your mother a romantic dinner. So I snuck home early." He said with a grin. "Go make people happy."
"Thanks," I said giving him a big cheesy grin. Seems like my parents were finally getting on board with my aromatherapy work. Well, at least Father was. Mother could be an enigma.
"That’s my girl." Father smiled and waved and then headed down the stairs in search of Mother.
I didn't run the rest of the way up. Wouldn't do to fall down and bang myself up before seeing a client. I stopped in the bathroom to check my hair and freshen up my makeup. I had a few fly-aways to take care of. I sprayed them into submission and kicked off my loose sandals on my way down the hall. I would wear grown up shoes for the appointment.
I made it to my room and saw the cats lying on my bed. Cat eyes opened part way to see me then slid shut. "You should be napping," Trouble said.
"Humans never get enough sleep," Livvie remarked, rolling onto her back. She wiggled her back to sink deeper into the comforter.
"Please, I have work to do," I told them and put a few of the specialty concoctions into my bag. "I don't have time to hang out with you lazybones."
"Humans work too much," Livvie told Trouble with an air of infinite sadness.
"They're just not as clever as us," Troubled commented before starting to snore.
I was sure they were right. The bed did look incredib
ly comfortable. With a sigh I headed down the steps and had Girard bring my car around. Aunt Sarah was in the foyer. She waited out front with me.
"I don't suppose you could give Helen some of my ideas for how to improve town?" Aunt Sarah asked.
"I don't think candidates take advice on being a mayor from their aromatherapists. I'm more of a peace-of-mind tincture and a nice soak in lavender scented baths kind of adviser."
"Oh, I know," Aunt Sarah agreed. "Just thought it might be nice to get some pot holes filled. And there's that lot on Main Street that would make a perfect neighborhood garden. And Joe saw a perfect location for a drum circle but no one understands the permit system..."
"I'm not running," I reminded her. "But if she asks me, I'll be sure to tell her that you and Auntie Joe want to run a drum circle."
Girard stepped out of the car and held the door for me. "Thanks Girard!"
Aunt Sarah hugged me. "Have fun. Get some of these ideas into her ear and I will love you forever."
Aunt Sarah slid a piece of paper in my pocket.
"She's not even elected yet," I cautioned her.
"Just trying to get there early, I guess," Aunt Sarah said with a wave.
Helen's condo was in a gated community not too far from our house. I had been there twice with lavender concoctions. The stress of running a business or two or three and then running a campaign on top of that, meant that what Helen needed most of all was: relaxation.
I pulled up to the guard. "Hi, I'm here to see Helen Christianson? I'm expected."
"Hi, name?" The friendly young gate guard asked me. He had a dusting of freckles on his nose and pretty green eyes. He had to be seventeen, but he was dressed smartly in a pressed uniform and lifted the chart to check me off.
"Ella Sweeting," I answered.
"Go right in ma'am. Ms. Christianson's residence is in the back overlooking the lake. Have a great day," he said and waved me through. The iron gates crept inward. It felt very secure. We didn't even have a guard dog at our house. We did have two very lazy cats and a few witches. Did that count as proper security?
I drove through the peaceful community past people walking their dogs and strolling around in the sunshine. The flowers were blooming their hearts out since it was going to get cold soon. Long trails of wave petunias spilled out of boxes almost covering the potato vine's bright green leaves. Helen should just stand outside for an hour a day. If she did, I'd be out of a job.
I parked in a guest spot, grabbed my bag and headed up the walk. Helen's was full of begonias and a few pots full of flowering mint. She was on the second floor so I had to go up onto a terrace to get to her door. The view from the terrace overlooked the other homes in the community and a park at the center where kids were playing. Her back bedroom overlooked the lake. It was all incredibly peaceful and lovely.
Her screen door was closed but the inside storm door was open. I rang the bell. I turned to look at the park again. Waited. After a minute I turned back and rang the bell again. When no one came to the door I called in through the window, "Helen?"
Again there was no answer. Maybe she was out? I didn't see her out strolling the grounds. I shielded my eyes from the daylight and looked through the screen. Something didn't feel right. Her purse was in the middle of the floor. It was tipped over and a lipstick, several coins and a few business cards were lying on the tile. Why wouldn't she have picked it up? Why wasn't she answering the bell?
"Helen? It's Ella? Are you alright?" I called through the screen. No answer. Biting my lip I pulled on the screen door. It wasn't locked and opened easily. I walked inside. "Helen? Are you okay? We had an appointment? I'm coming in to make sure you're okay."
I stepped into the elegantly furnished parlor, complete with modern contemporary sofas in pale lemon and eggshell white walls with a few expensive pieces of art scattered around. There was a tea service set up on the coffee table with two cups set out. Carefully I knelt down to look at the card but I couldn't see the name on it. I was loath to touch anything. My bad feeling grew as looked left into the kitchen.
"Oh Helen," I cried.
Helen was laid out on the kitchen floor. There was a scarf pulled tight around her neck. It was clear she was dead. I gingerly approached her. There was broken glass on the floor as if she had dropped something. The refrigerator was slightly open. I closed it and touched her throat just in case. No pulse. But her skin was cool, not cold.
I pulled out my cellphone and dialed 911. Ruby must have been manning the switchboard. She answered. "911 what is the nature of your emergency?"
"Oh Ruby," I breathed. "It's Ella. I found another body."
Aunt Sarah was going to be so disappointed.
Chapter 2
If anyone had told me I would be found at the site of yet another murder, I would have scoffed and told them the odds of that happening were astronomical. But if they had said it to Detective Garza, her answer would have been:
"Of course I would find you here," Detective Garza said as she met me at the base of the steps leading up to Helen's apartment. She was dressed in a rich russet suit. Slacks instead of a skirt today, I observed. Her brown hair was in elegant finger waves and her make-up was perfect, enhancing her brown eyes and softening the scowl she aimed in my direction. She glared as she put on gloves. "One more murder, Ms. Sweeting, and I am going to have to do something about you."
"Like what? It's no picnic for me either, Detective," I remarked. "Helen was my client and my friend. Finding her that way..." My voice caught as the image of my friend on the floor flooded my mind.
"My apologies," Garza said softly, "And my condolences, of course. Just seems like some people have all the luck."
She gave me a once over and headed up the steps. I watched her until she disappeared into Helen's condo. I hugged myself. I couldn't blame Garza for worrying about me. I did seem to have a knack for finding corpses. For a moment I wondered if it had anything to do with me being a witch, but dismissed the thought as Ruby approached.
"You dyed your hair!" I exclaimed.
Ruby and I had gone to school. She was a junior officer who mainly stayed behind a desk. I was surprised to see her at a crime scene. Her hair had always been a mousey brown but now it was a rich chocolate with copper highlights. It was pulled back, and the streaks of copper were almost glittering in the sun.
"Hi Ella. Did Garza snap and growl at you yet?" she asked.
I nodded. She smiled.
"Honestly, she should just put you on the payroll. You've got good instincts. Shame you're an aromatherapist. You would have made an excellent cop," Ruby told me with a wink.
"I prefer mixing oils and healing to this," I said, motioning up to where Helen's condo was. "So what's with the hair? And are you wearing new make-up? You look fantastic."
Ruby laughed. "I may be dating someone," she confessed.
I squealed a bit and wanted to hug her, but with her in uniform and it didn't seem right. So I just beamed at her with my cheesiest smile. She grinned back, and it made her sparkle.
"I'm supposed to be taking your statement," she reminded me with a nod in the direction of one of the other officers. He had a camera and an evidence bag with him. Behind him, medics were buzzing in and out of the ambulance. Ruby pulled me to one side. "But I can tell you that I have never been happier. I have a date tonight."
"I'm glad to see a cheerful face. Garza's glares are not exactly comforting," I said, softly.
Ruby nodded. "Garza's tough but fair. She's a great boss. She's letting me leave my desk more often. She thinks my friendly face will get information easier than the scowls the other officers are offering...including Garza. You just rub her the wrong way. Not to mention she was at her niece's birthday party and had to leave to come here."
"And she blames me," I said sourly.
"This is body number three," Ruby reminded me. As if I needed reminding of that. "If she didn't arrest you as a serial killer then she's as friendly as she's ever going to get. May
be if we got you hired as an informal consultant she would stop thinking of ways to railroad you. I'm kidding," she said at my horrified expression. "She doesn't railroad people. Oh Ella, stop frowning and tell me what happened!"
I related the story of my arrival and finding Helen with as many details as I could remember, including the scarf. It had been maroon with a distinctive bright blue swirly pattern on it. I got so wrapped up in remembering every single detail that I forgot to ask Ruby who her date was and didn't remember until she was called back to one of the patrol cars. She gave me a cheery wave, a promise of lunch and a brilliant smile. Whoever she was dating, he must really agree with her.
That made me think of Rory. I sighed. He was so busy we hadn't had a real chance to just be in one another's company. I missed him. I should probably text him and tell him what happened. I reached for my purse to get my phone, but my purse wasn't there. Where could it be? Right. I'd dropped it on the floor in Helen's house when I saw her body. I guess I could just go up and ask Garza to bring it out for me.
I bit my lip. I wasn't looking forward to meeting Garza again, but I didn't have much choice. The ambulance was unloading a gurney. I wanted to get my purse and go before they brought Helen out on the stretcher. I raced up the steps. The condo door was propped open. I knocked on the door anyhow, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. No one answered, but I heard someone moving around inside. I knocked harder.
"Detective Garza?" I called. "I've left my purse inside. I need it to get my keys and phone, and well, I need it. Can you let me grab it or send an officer out with it?"
I waited a full minute. No one answered. Huh. Hoping I wouldn't get into trouble for this, I gingerly stepped inside. I saw my purse, but no cops. Maybe if I just snagged it, I could leave before Garza could take a second look at me. I darted into the condo, grabbed my purse, and looped it over my shoulder turning to leave.
There was soft moan somewhere behind me. I froze.
A Corpse at the Polls: An Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic Cozy Mystery (Ella Sweeting: Witch Aromatherapist Cozies Book 3) Page 1