A Corpse at the Polls: An Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic Cozy Mystery (Ella Sweeting: Witch Aromatherapist Cozies Book 3)

by Lisbeth Reade

  "Were you here to see Garza?" I asked, throat dry as I held the murder weapon in my hands. I felt sick. But I couldn't let on. He couldn't know that I knew.

  "You all right there, Ella? You seem flushed?" Mike asked, his blue eyes wide with concern.

  Sensing the tension, Aunt Sarah stepped in. "Mr. Hutchinson! How is Detective Garza? Any changes?"

  "The damned guard wouldn't let me in," Mike grumbled. "I'm a mayoral candidate. What am I going to do? Strangle her with my scarf?"

  I choked, still holding the murder weapon in my hands. "No," I said, forcing a laugh, "that would be ridiculous."

  "Speaking of scarves," Mike said and reached out for it.

  I handed it to him.

  "It's my favorite one," he remarked. "Well, if you will excuse me, then. If I can't see the detective, I am going home."

  I watched the tall, elegant man slip the murder weapon around his neck and head off down the hallway whistling. I clutched at Aunt Sarah. "It's him," I whispered.

  He stopped and spun back to face us.

  I gasped. He couldn't possibly have heard me. Or could he?

  "Ella," he said.

  "Yes?" I asked, shaking.

  "How did your mother enjoy the roses?" he asked.

  "Loved them," I managed in a passable impersonation of my regular voice.

  He nodded and continued on his way, whistling again. I didn't relax until he was gone and I heard the elevator doors ding.

  "Oh gosh," I breathed. "Mike seems so nice... but... he's wearing the murder weapon. What kind of maniac just wears it out and about?"

  "What? No. How could it be? I thought his campaign vouched for him?" Aunt Sarah hissed.

  "How else would he have the murder weapon?" I whispered back, fiercely. "I haven't seen that scarf since it was cinched around Helen's neck. And he said it was his favorite one!"

  "Oh, oh," Aunt Sarah muttered.

  "Tell Rory," I told her. "I'm going to make sure Garza and Auntie Joe are alright."

  Sarah nodded and headed down the hall to where Rory was keeping watch. I raced ahead to find Auntie Joe hiding around the corner from Garza's room. She was wringing her hands and muttering to herself. She jumped when I touched her arm and dove into my arms.

  "Sorry, Ella. There was a man arguing with the guard." Auntie Joe said. "Now the guard won't sit back down. I don't want to cast a sleep spell and make him hit his head when he drops."

  "He's not that big," I said, visually measuring him. The guard wasn't Andy this time. He was an older man with dark hair streaked with gray. He was scowling and periodically looking in on the detective as he paced. "Wait until he's facing away from me. Cast the spell and I'll lower him to the ground."

  Auntie Joe nodded. "Okay, I can do that. But do be careful!"

  I nodded. When the guard turned, I tiptoed out behind him. Before he had a chance to see me or even hear my steps on the tile, I saw a little wisp of golden light surround him and turn to a gentle rose. The man took a deep breath and fell right into my arms. Luckily I had braced myself. He weighed a ton.

  Joe raced out and helped me gently lower the man back into his chair. She lifted his eyelids, checking to see that he was out, and then checked to make sure he was breathing. She gave me a 'thumbs up.' I waved at her to get out of here. She nodded and disappeared down the hallway.

  I ducked into Detective Garza's room. She was sleeping and the lights were dim. I slid into the chair farthest from the light. I could see the door clearly, but no one would be able to see me without putting the light on. In my pocket was Auntie Sarah's new sachet to promote healing. To activate it, I rubbed it between my palms, warming it. I breathed on it, warming it farther until the faint scent of rosemary escaped it. Then I slipped it under her pillow and let a little magical energy slip from my fingers into the soft muslin fabric.

  "To help." I said as instructed. The little bag tingled as I let go.

  Rosa Garza seemed to glow faintly pink for a second. My mind raced. I pulled the paper Aunt Hazel had given me from my pocket, along with the piece of blue chalk.

  "Oh, I almost forgot to cast the spell so no one can sneak up on me. I should have cast it on Rory," I muttered and got down on the hospital room floor so I could draw the chalk circle.

  But before I had a chance, I heard footsteps. I froze and stopped breathing. Someone stepped into the room. They would never see me down here unless they walked around the hospital bed. I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. Then I heard a familiar voice say, "Hello, detective."

  I relaxed. It was Andy Daniels. The relief that flooded me was intense. I started to crouch to get up off the floor.

  But then—

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  What? I paused. What was he sorry about? He couldn't still blame himself for Garza being knocked unconscious, could he? I waited, embarrassed for him. I wouldn't want someone to overhear me when I was being open. I stayed still, hoping he would leave quickly. The floor was cold and I ached to get off of it.

  "I saw the scarf and I panicked."

  I heard the chair scrape against the floor. Oh no, was he going to sit down? I debated on whether or not I should stand up, but he was still talking. I could almost make out the shape of him if I sat back on my haunches.

  "Now I have no idea what to do. I had to do it," he whispered, voice shaking.

  My eyes were fit to explode out of my head they opened so wide. What did he do? This sounded like a confession. He was silent for so long I thought he might have seen me, but then his breath hitched. "He's my uncle. I couldn't..."

  The chair scraped again and Andy left the room, the door banging behind him. I stood up after a minute, shaking.

  What was Andy talking about? What the heck was Andy talking about? The door popped open before I could hide or scream or something, but it was only Rory. I raced over and hugged him.

  "Was that Andy?" he asked.

  "Yes! He was in here talking to Garza. He said, 'I had to do it.' What do you think that means? Did Andy do it? No, he couldn't have. He was hit, too. Why would he kill Helen? But if he didn't kill her, then what did he do? It doesn't make sense... But wow, it sounds like he's involved somehow," I rambled, reeling.

  Rory kept a hold of me. "Are you sure that's what he said? You didn't misunderstand him?" he asked.

  "Well, yes, I'm sure. But he said something else that was weird," I began. "He said, 'He's my uncle. I couldn't.' Then he just left. He was all upset. This is crazy. I was sure it was Mike. What can this mean?"

  "It means we're not leaving until morning," Rory said. "And then after that, we are going to have to keep one of us in the hospital at all times."

  I nodded. "Soon as we can get Aunt Hazel to take a shift, we go talk to Mike. Maybe he'll confess if we tell him we know."

  "What about Andy?" Rory asked. "What did he do?"

  "What if he did this to her?" I asked. "Maybe he did it because she figured out he was the killer? We can't be too careful now, Rory."

  "Oh, I know. But Andy just doesn't strike me as a murderer." Rory said, frowning. "Neither does Mike, for that matter."

  "But he's wearing the murder weapon," I insisted. "I wouldn't have thought so either, but explain that! Please explain it, because I can't at the moment."

  We sat together, both lost in thoughts and theories. Aunt Sarah appeared. She touched Garza's toes and another glimmer of pink went through the detective's body. Garza mumbled in her sleep and turned slightly.

  Aunt Sarah gave us a pinched grin. "Joe says there have been about ten people in and out. Mostly hospital staff, but she said Andy was in and out, plus Mike and Caitlyn Jones."

  "Well, Caitlyn hasn't been here," I said. "Do you think she had an appointment?"

  "At three in the morning?" Aunt Sarah asked, "Not likely."

  "Then where is she?" I asked. "Is she still here?"

  "Joe said 'in and out.' I'm assuming she's gone by now."

  "Maybe she wanted to see how the detective wa
s doing, too? That's what Mike said he was here to do," Rory supposed.

  "No, she's a selfish attention seeker," Aunt Sarah groused.

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  Aunt Sarah waved her hand around. "Oh, you know. Remember that stunt she pulled last year at the pageant? She insisted that one of the judges had gotten into an altercation with her in the elevator and slapped her. But when they checked the footage, Caitlyn was in the elevator alone."

  "So, she lied?" I asked, biting my lip.

  "I don't remember hearing about that at all," Rory said. "And I see all the papers."

  "But you wouldn't, would you? They only reported it in the online addition of the daily paper. I read it on my phone when I'm trapped in lines. I hate lines. So you see, I doubt she would come see the detective unless she had a media circus all set up." Aunt Sarah finished.

  "Maybe Joe was wrong, then?" I offered. "Maybe she saw someone who looked like her. Do you have your phone on you?" I asked.

  "Yes, but that article is months old. It wouldn't still be on the main page," Aunt Sarah told me as she handed over her phone.

  "No, I suppose not," I muttered, handing it back.

  We settled in until the sun started to rise. One by one we slipped from the room and outside. Blinking in the early morning sun, we looked like zombies. But there was no time for rest. Auntie Joe had her notebook in her hands, but at some point, she had dozed off in the car.

  "I need coffee or sleep," Rory grumbled. "I'm never going to make it through work."

  "Call in sick. We're solving a murder today if it kills us." I told him.

  "Ugh," he muttered, but nodded his agreement.

  "Joe, can you drive us home?" Aunt Sarah asked, waking her sister gently.

  "Oh, I fell asleep! I am so sorry. But no one came in after Andy left. He's a nice boy," she muttered.

  "Is he?" I asked, thinking the opposite.

  "Mm hmm," Auntie Joe said. "He gave that candidate— the tall, good looking one— a scarf. Just walked up and handed it to him. It must have been a very good quality scarf because the candidate hugged him."

  We stared open-mouthed at Auntie Joe.

  "What?" she asked, and repeated her question when none of us answered.

  "Why would Andy Daniels give the murder weapon to his own uncle?" Aunt Sarah asked. "Oh, this makes less and less sense by the minute!"

  "No," I argued. "It makes more and more sense by the minute. Let's go see a man about his scarf."

  Everyone groaned.

  "Fine," I conceded. "Two hours of sleep, four mugs of coffee, and then we go catch the killer."

  "Wait, don't you have a meeting with Sierra?" Rory asked.

  "Oh, right. Two hours of sleep, five mugs of coffee, one meeting with Sierra— and then can we go catch the killer?"

  Chapter 11

  By all rights, I should have been groggy. Instead, I was buzzing with caffeine and the need to catch a killer.

  Rory followed me into the mayor's office. He smiled blearily at me in a sleepy, supportive sort of way. Hazel had gone to the hospital to protect Garza, while Auntie Joe chauffeured us and Aunt Sarah went to keep an eye on Caitlyn Jones until we could get there to find out what she'd been doing at the hospital.

  But first we had an appointment to keep with Sierra.

  Sierra's office was down the hall from the mayor's. I actually saw the man in question as we were directed to hers. He spotted me, let out an annoyed sound and disappeared behind his mahogany door. Oooh. My fingers itched to ruffle through his papers. Rory blatantly drooled at the mayor's closed door. He slowed to a stop.

  "I'm going to get another coffee," he said.

  "You have one in your hand," I said.

  He downed it and tilted his head towards the mayor's office. "Yeah well, now I don't. I'll catch up with you."

  I grinned as he headed for a coffee machine that just happened to sit opposite the mayor's door. The people working at cubicles would never notice one more tired guy over there. Rory managed a wink before he walked away. Hopefully he could get into the office at some point or see something.

  Sierra was a slim dark woman with long highlighted red hair. She stood up when she saw me. Dressed in a sharp business dark plaid suit, she reached out a red gel manicured hand and shook mine formally.

  "Hello Ms. Sweeting," she said in a rich alto. "Have a seat. I assume this is about the unfortunate incident involving Helen Christianson?"

  "Unfortunate? Yes," I said, off put. "I am... was a friend of Helen's. Plus, I am always a suspect of Detective Garza's. I've been helping the police in a sort of freelance position. Can you tell me where the mayor was on the day of the murder?"

  Sierra's office was neat as a pin. The papers were all arranged in attractive piles and the pens were lined up. She opened a drawer and removed a small brown leather planner. Licking a finger, she flipped a few pages. "The mayor had appointments beginning at seven AM and ending with a dinner engagement around eight o'clock with Max Stewart."

  "Can I see that?" I asked.

  Sierra spun the book to face me. The blocks were filled in with various bigwigs. I recognized most of the names and memorized the two I didn't know. "And how many of these appointments did you accompany the mayor to?"

  "All of them. He and I are rarely apart for long. I run a tight ship," she said proudly.

  "What about the day that Caitlyn was attacked? I saw the mayor speaking with Max Stewart in the park near the courthouse. Is that listed? Because you weren't with him then..."

  Sierra's mouth pressed into a thin line. She flipped through her date book, searching. "The mayor had no meetings with Max Stewart. He had a meeting with the housing board in the morning and an afternoon meeting with the governor to discuss funding for next year. You must be mistaken."

  "I must be," I agreed in my best conciliatory tone. "Do you know what business dealings the mayor has with Max Stewart?"

  "Max Stewart," Sierra said slowly, smiling. "Yes. The Stewarts have been extremely supportive of the mayor and have been involved in several neighborhood enrichment plans. Mr. Stewart is currently helping us clean up a few of the abandoned plots of land and turn them into parks. He wanted to get D&B Construction involved, maybe donate some benches. It's going to be in honor of his mother."

  "Oh," I said. "Would the Mayor have given him plans or money or— "

  "I'm sure he has," Sierra replied. "The Stewarts wanted to fund the entire thing, but the mayor insisted on helping with the zoning and land grants. Here, wait. I have the plans for the park." She reached into another drawer, removed a folder and placed it in front of me. "No one's supposed to know about it," she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "It was supposed to be announced during the mayor's acceptance speech."

  I flipped the folder open. It was filled with concept sketches and landscape plans for three parks. One was the location that the Aunts had been advocating for the same thing. There was even a fountain design with a neighborhood vegetable garden setup. I bit my lip. This was what Max was taking care of?

  Slowly, I closed the folder and stood up. "Thank you so much Sierra. This has been very helpful."

  "Oh? I hope so," Sierra said with a tight smile. "I'm hoping the killer gets caught before too long. I've been terrified that they'll target Mayor Strous. He's the best boss I've ever had."

  "Really? I heard he was involved in all sorts of scandals," I told her.

  She rolled her eyes. "Everyone makes deals. That's politics," she said, dismissing the accusations with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. "He does the best he can for this town."

  I grinned. Sierra believed what she was saying, and I left the office feeling guilty.

  If Max was truly just building a memorial park to his mother, then I owed him and Ruby an apology. Dazed, I practically walked right into Rory. He was waiting for me with yet another coffee in his hands. The last few had seemed to have an effect and he was now alert with his brown eyes sparkling.

&nb
sp; "You'll never guess what Max and the mayor are up to," he purred into my ear.

  "Outside," I said.

  He bobbed his head and we walked outside. The fresh air perked me up. "Okay, what did you learn?"

  "Sierra tell you about the parks?" Rory asked, raising an eyebrow.

  I nodded.

  "And now you feel guilty about thinking Max Stewart is a weasel, right? Well, don't." Rory said, grabbing my arm and pulling me along to the car. "Because he's using that park to dump garbage."

  "What?" I asked and swirled to face him.

  "The mayor left his office while I was drinking my third or fourth coffee. I'm on a whole new level of caffeinated right now. Anyhow, I slipped in and found this." Rory pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket and handed it to me. "Max has a lot of leftover textiles that are going to be ground up and just stuffed about six feet under the parkland. Then they are going to just dump the dirt over it and fill it in with flowers. But if those textiles aren't treated, they could leach really bad chemicals into the dirt."

  I scanned the paper. "The nerve of that guy," I hissed. "Can we stop this?"

  Rory bobbed his head and pulled out his phone. "I'm going to text my friend Marsha. She knows a guy who works for the paper. We hand that little piece of paper over and it doesn't happen. I'm sure Max will wriggle off the hook again, but at least we still get clean parks. And we get clear consciences."

  Flooded with mixed feelings, I scanned the paper. It was a signed agreement to bury the garbage. I let out a breath and handed it back to him. "Sierra believes one hundred percent in the mayor. I feel bad for her when this comes out."

  "Feel worse for Ruby," Rory remarked. "Oh look, there's Andy."

  Well, that was convenient.

  "Rory, can you take care of this? I need to talk to Andy alone for a minute."