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Murder & Spice and Everything Nice

Page 4

by Caryn Thomas Mitchell


  “He seems kinda scared, which is weird because he often stays alone in my apartment,” I said to Carter.

  I scratched behind Norman’s ears as we climbed the stairs and felt him relax as we rounded the landing to the inside door to my place. The door was open, and Carter held one arm out in front of me to indicate I should wait until he went in to look around.

  After a few minutes he returned and motioned me inside.

  “Looks like you had some company while you were at work,” he said indicating the mess that spilled from drawers and cabinets.

  “Holy cow!” I said, spinning slowly in a circle. Whoever it was had hit all the drawers, papers were lying everywhere.

  “What could they have been looking for?”

  “Nothing,” I replied, “not a thing. I mean, this place is small, and I don’t have much. The store isn’t open so we don’t have daily receipts to worry about, I don’t carry much cash, I haven’t got any big secrets. This is crazy,” my mind was whirling, and as it did I thought about the note I had gotten on my car the day before.

  “Oh! Here, hang on to Norman, would you?” I said as I thrust the dog at Carter. He deftly snugged my puppy onto his shoulder and I was struck at how paternal he looked in that moment.

  I went to the closet and grabbed my coat, the one I’d had on in the rain, and checked the pocket. Sure enough, the note was gone.

  “Weird,” I said to no one in particular. But since Carter was still there, of course he thought I was speaking to him.

  “Weird what?”

  “Oh, no, well I was just thinking out loud. Yesterday there was a note left on my car, and I had it in my coat pocket. It’s not there now.”

  “A note? Like a ticket? Or a flyer? Someone wanting a date?”

  “No, it was, well this sounds silly, but it said not to be nosy. It was in a plastic zip top bag which kept it dry in that crazy weather, so someone put at least a little bit of thought into it. The only thing I could figure out was someone didn’t want me to look into the murder. But I wasn’t going to. I mean, I’m not.”

  “But, someone seems to think you are?”

  “Yeah, isn’t that strange? I mean, the police were here, we don’t know how the guy died. No one liked him except the Little Flowers. Or maybe they were just scared of him. I don’t know,” I said ticking things off on my fingers, “and I wasn’t going to worry about it. But now…”

  “Now you’re intrigued,” he supplied.

  “Yeah, kinda…”

  “Probably best to leave well enough alone.”

  “But this is a break-in!” I gestured around me. “How do I ignore that? How do I not tell the police?”

  “Well, was it really a break-in? Was the place locked up? Did you leave the interior door here open?”

  “What does that matter, they took something?”

  “They took a note. Maybe. Maybe you misplaced it?”

  I gave him the side-eye, “ What’s going on? Do you not want me to call Drake? The police? What are you not telling me?”

  “Nothing, it’s just I’m not a fan of police. It’s your place, do what you want. I just wouldn’t tell them about something so small where a note was missing and a dog got loose. Suit yourself.”

  That was weird, I thought as I looked at his retreating back. Why would he get so moody all of a sudden? Unless…no, I shook my head to clear it. He couldn’t possibly have anything to do with any of it. Maybe his general distrust of the police was just, normal? Which got me to thinking about whether I really did want to call them. I locked the door behind Carter and grabbed a trash can so that I could clean up the mess. Most of the papers I probably didn’t need anyway, so I could sort through them as I cleaned up.

  As I sorted I thought about the weird events of the last few days. Looking around it did seem sort of silly to call the police, although someone had definitely been here. Maybe if I just mentioned it to Drake next time I saw him?

  No, it made more sense to call him now. Grabbing my cell phone I dialed and then listened to his voice mail as the call went to his messages.

  “Hey, Drake. It’s me, Ivy, you wanted me to call you? Anyway something weird happened at my place, no big deal, just, well if you get a chance give me a call back.” There, I called, he didn’t answer, I could continue cleaning up, and just tell him about it later.

  Eventually the apartment looked less like a hurricane had blown through and I made my way downstairs again to poke around down there and see what else I could accomplish. As I entered the front hallway Drake came through the door and in two strides he was at my side.

  “I got your call, what’s up?”

  I explained about Norman, and the papers and the note. I left out that part about Carter saying not to tell the police.

  “You should have called this in, you know that, right?”

  “It just seemed so silly,” I said.

  “Well, it wasn’t. What about that monitor thing you have at the door, is there any video on that?”

  “No, I don’t keep tapes, it’s only a live feed.”

  “What? Really?”

  “Yeah, I mean I don’t advertise that, but it’s only for when I’m home. I didn’t think I needed endless videos of the UPS guy walking up, or, you know, videos of my doormat.”

  “Okay, so we don’t really know then if they came in that side or from the inside of the store. We just know Norman got loose through the store, but they could have left that way.”

  “Right, it’s silly though, I realize, I just though you should know. Oh, and the note is gone.”

  “Which note?”

  “The note telling me not to be nosy, it was on my car yesterday.”

  “Someone left a note on your car yesterday, then today someone broke into your apartment to steal it?”

  I frowned, “Yeah, that sounds weird doesn’t it?”

  “That’s why we like to have you tell us each weird thing independently, because when weird things begin to pile up, sometimes they tell a story. This could be telling a story, but we wouldn’t know about it, because you didn’t tell us. Next time call me.”

  “I did call you,” I pointed out, “and you didn’t answer.”

  “But I did show up as soon as I could.”

  “Right,” I said, “I’m not sure which makes me feel more foolish. Calling to tell you about practically nothing, or having you be mad that I didn’t.’’

  “I’m not sure why you consider a break-in at your apartment almost nothing. That’s something, it really is. I know it seems like nothing in a little town with your apartment above the store here, but it really is something to worry about. I don’t want to scare you, or freak you out, but the death of Father Amos was probably not a mistake. And it happened here. Just something to think about.”

  “Right, sorry, I keep thinking it has nothing to do with me.”

  “And it probably doesn’t. But maybe it does, so be careful. Okay? Do you want me to check your apartment for you?”

  “Oh, no, thanks. I cleaned it up, double checked the locks, left Norman to guard the place.”

  “A chihuahua shih-tzu mix is your guard dog? Seriously? He’ll friendly your burglars into staying for a game of catch! Unless he’s busy hiding under the covers.”

  “True, he’s pretty lovey, but he’s a good barker.”

  “Which didn’t help you today.”

  “No, you’re right, I’ll be vigilant,” I said, mock saluting.

  “See that you are,” he laughed. “You’re still impossible, did you know that?”

  “Um, yes, I’ve had it mentioned once or twice.”

  “The other reason I came by was to tell you you could go ahead and open up, we’re all set, no sense in holding your opening up.”

  “Great, thanks,” I said looking around. It was going to happen, the bookstore would finally be open. “Was there anything else?”

  “Anything else?” Drake repeated.

  “You said I should call and we co
uld meet for a drink and you had something to tell me.”

  “Oh, that? No, that was nothing really. Forget I said anything.”

  Curiouser and curiouser.

  Chapter 7

  Opening day, and all I can think is “who’s dumb idea was this?” We’ve run out of change twice, the best sellers rounder at the front door is practically empty again and worst of all it’s past noon and I didn’t get my coffee yet. The military would call me a real and present danger, un-caffienated as I am.

  Must have coffee. I wind my way to the snack bar and slip behind the counter. Grabbing a coffee cup (coffee out of paper is blasphemy but it will have to do in this crowd) I pour a steady stream of life-giving Brazilian blend into my cup and turn to go. There’s a vaguely familiar noise happening, a tapping I can’t quite figure out and then I see her. Nedra.

  She’s waiting on the other side of the counter, all done up as though she’s meeting foreign dignitaries. Her long nails are tap tap tapping on the glass case as she waits for her order.

  “Hi Nedra, thank you for coming by,” say it like you mean it I can hear my mother’s voice in my head, even though she lives miles from here. I try, but I’m sure it doesn’t sound like I mean it.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she probably doesn’t mean that either.

  Although, ever the opportunist, she probably had the decorating magazines and remodeling books staked out so she could try to talk my customers into buying a house instead of fixing up what they had.

  “Beautiful work you’ve done here,” she paused to blow on her coffee and take a sip as I stepped from behind the counter.

  “Thank you, we’re happy with it,” I said, waving at my sister as she sprinted past with a dozen rolls of register tape balanced precariously in her arms.

  “Oh, yes, I’m sure,” she said glancing toward Gigi. “So,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “any more word on the…you know? The unpleasantness,” she said, making air quotes and not even spilling a drop of coffee. She really is perfect.

  “No, actually. It all seems to have come to a dead end. Uh…no pun intended. Or, well at least there’s nothing else I’ve heard.”

  “Do you think they’d tell you?”

  I scanned her face to see if she was asking out of curiosity or being kind of witchy. She looked more curious than unpleasant, maybe she was really interested?

  “Well, it’s hard to say, I’m not family, but it happened here, so they might tell me some things. Anyway, I don’t really know much more than anyone else at this point.”

  “Oh, well, right,” she waved her hand as if brushing away smoke, “it’s not really our business, is it? Just being curious. Anyway, I’m going to keep looking around, the architecture here is marvelous,” and just like that she was gone. The woman was so good at disappearing, she should have been a magician I thought as I scanned the room.

  As I wound my way through the crowds, carefully balancing my coffee, I said hello here and there to people I knew, many of whom I hadn’t seen in years. Others, like Luann, were more recent acquaintances, I smiled and waved at her. I liked seeing the more recent ones better. As hard as I tried to cast coming home to start this store as a victory, a part of me still felt like I had failed by walking away from my writing career. Even if it wasn’t all my fault.

  The crowds shifted and I saw Carter towering above the rest. As I started to make my way toward him, I could see he seemed to be arguing. But with who? I stopped and drifted behind a conveniently placed potted plant as I peered out at him and sipped my coffee, hoping I didn’t look as suspiciously nosy as I felt. I didn’t want to interrupt if this was some kind of heated discussion. Suddenly I saw a woman’s hand swinging at him, she wasn’t tall enough to get him in the face but she managed to crack him a good one against his arm. The next thing I knew, she was gone, and Carter turned and walked out the front door. Weird.

  Thoughtfully I sipped my coffee as I looked around at the rest of the crowd. Luann was headed my way, her white hair braided and wound around the top of her head, her blue eyes shining.

  “I thought that was you!” she said as she approached.

  “It’s me. Thank you for coming.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it, the store opening and a chance to see this magnificent house, and you of course.”

  “Of course,” I laughed. “Have you looked around?”

  “I only just got here, you have quite a crowd!”

  “We do, I’m pleased. I only hope they keep coming back.”

  “I’m sure they will dear, bookstores are magical.”

  “I like to think so. Is there anything you’re looking for?”

  She smiled and leaned in close, “Well, speaking of magical, do you have anything on magic? Not the rabbit in a top hat kind, the goddess in the moonlight kind.”

  Well, this was interesting. A massage therapist with an interest in pagan rituals. I scanned her again and took in the silvery braids wound around her head, her kind blue eyes, and tried to imagine her in robes and a pointed hat. “Of course, it’s located in with religious and spiritual, come on, I’ll show you,” I said as I touched her arm to guide her. “ Would you like to look around a little first? There’s a prohibition room here, hidden behind a secret panel,” I explained as she walked with me toward the stairs. “If you touch here,” I demonstrated touching a corner of the panel, “the door swings open and here we have…” I stopped as I looked down in horror. What we had here was another body, dead of course.

  I’m ashamed to admit that just for a fleeting moment I wanted to turn around and walk away, pretending I had never seen it. I didn’t want one more murder to muck up my store opening. But that was selfish and I knew it, someone losing their life was was having a way worse day than I was. I peered closely at the body, and realized it was Mother Ruth, the woman who had run the cult with Father Amos. Bad month for The Little Flowers.

  Sliding my cell phone out of my pocket I speed dialed Drake Jordan. When he answered I told him what I had found, and he said he was in the driveway anyway on the way to our party. I ushered Luann out of the room.

  She was startled but seemingly unfazed. “I’ll wait in the reading area,” she indicated the section of the massive living room we had set up for reading with comfy chairs.

  Some party.

  “Just like Father Amos,” Drake said, stepping away from the body which was shielded by a drape. “No sign of trauma, nothing broken or out of place. We’ll have to do toxicology screens again. And take statements,” he said, looking around at the crowd that was now trapped inside the bookstore until the police could sort through them all and finish taking their information.

  Suddenly a scream rang out, and Drake and I rushed toward the sound. Out of the front door, and around to the side we found Nedra. She was lying in a heap in the driveway, her face was red from crying and her knee was skinned. “I was attacked!” she shrieked, before passing out cold on the gravel drive.

  “No, wait, we shouldn’t move her, should we?” I asked.

  “I think she’s just passed out,” he said, taking her wrist and feeling for a pulse.

  Nedra opened her eyes slowly and tried to shift around.

  “Hold up, I’ve got you,” Drake said, stilling her with his hand on her arm. “Let’s not move you. Can we get an ambulance?” he asked a nearby uniformed officer.

  “On the way,” the officer replied.

  “I’m not getting in an ambulance, I’m fine,” Nedra said slowly.

  “Are you hurt? Besides your knee? How’s your head?”

  “Fine, it’s fine, I’m fine,” she snapped at me. Not that she had ever been one to be pleasant, but I was only asking.

  “Let’s hold off until the…” Drake said.

  “I told you, I’m not going anywhere in an ambulance. Help me up,” Nedra hissed at Drake.

  She seemed more embarrassed than hurt, and I stood back to let her have some room.

  “Let’s get you inside then, i
f you’re not going to hold still. I need to ask some questions,” he looked around as the sound of the approaching ambulance wailed in the distance.

  Gigi came up beside me and as I glanced at her face she rolled her eyes. Our dislike for Nedra was ongoing and mutual. Her drama proceeded her wherever she went.

  “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up,” Gigi said taking her other arm. “Are we cursed or what?” she whispered to me as she helped Nedra limp toward the house.

  Chapter 8

  Nedra collapsed on a chair in the reading room and closed her eyes.

  “I wonder what happened?” I whispered to Drake. “Do you think the murderer attacked her, thinking she could identify them?”

  “Maybe? I don’t know,” he said, taking me by the arm and dragging me out of hearing distance from her, “It really depends on how Mother Ruth died. Whoever it is could easily still be here. If she was killed. Maybe she just…died? You never know. We’re just sort of assuming because of the circumstances that we should talk to everyone just in case. Maybe she had a bad heart or something though?” he shrugged.

  People were starting to grumble and Drake went to talk to the officers who were taking statements to see if he could speed things up.

  Nedra sat up and decided she wanted to go too, but I asked her to stay put until Drake got back. “Can I call anyone for you?”

  “No,” she looked alarmed. “No one, I’m fine, I just need to go home.”

  What a mess.

  Gigi found me and passed me a fresh cup of coffee and a couple of cookies she had grabbed on her way past the bakery case.

  I bit into the buttery goodness and let the calming effect of the sugar rush over me. It would be okay, we could do this. We just needed to get through today. Deep breath.

  Finally the police got everyone sorted out and sent on their way and Gigi and I closed the store. “Come on up for a drink?” I asked.

  “Sure, Jen and her dad can take care of themselves for a while. I just can’t even…” she shook her head as we climbed the stairs to my apartment. “What is going on in this town?”

 

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