For Whom the Smell Tolls: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (A Nora Black Midlife Psychic Mystery Book 2)

by Renee George

  The asphalt drive opened up to the McKay mansion, and we pulled into a turnabout where two sedans and a truck were parked. Ezra pulled in behind Reese’s car.

  “It looks like they already have a houseful,” I said to Ezra.

  “It’ll take more people than what could fit in those vehicles to fill this house. Hell, half of Garden Cove could comfortably stand under the roof without bumping into a neighbor,” he replied.

  I’d met Reagan McKay, Fiona’s dad, once when I was first looking for property for my business. He’d been eager to help me find the right location. I’d lucked out when the previous owner, Marie Tidwell sold me her place directly, allowing me to convert Tidwell’s Diner into Scents & Scentsability. I hadn’t seen Reagan since then.

  My family hadn’t been rich, but I’d always thought of my parents as affluent. I’d grown up in an upper-middle-class neighborhood. When my dad died, he’d left enough money for my mom to live comfortably for the rest of her life as long as she didn’t go crazy. Unfortunately, the cancer had eaten away at her savings toward the end, and I had dipped into my own savings to pay utilities and taxes on her home. It had been my pleasure to take care of my mom.

  Reese waited on the steps for us. My back had started to ache more, so I’d taken a pain pill from the sample packet. It still hadn’t kicked in yet.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Terrific,” I said. “Trying to stay ahead of another trip to the ER.”

  We got out and joined Reese.

  “It looks like your aunt and uncle have guests.”

  “The silver car belongs to Claire Portman, Don Portman’s wife.” She sniffled. “She and Aunt Jenny are thick as thieves. They grew up together. I’m not sure who the others belong to, but probably a couple close friends.”

  “Maybe we should have called ahead.”

  Reese nodded solemnly. “Already did. Aunt Jenny said I could have Fiona’s keys.”

  We followed Reese inside. She led us through a large foyer, past a central staircase, down a hall, through a giant kitchen with an industrial-sized Viking stove and oven combination. When my mom had died, my kitchen had been overwhelmed with casseroles and other dishes that could be frozen and quickly reheated. It was how communities supported their own. I glanced around at the counters and the center island. They were bare.

  “What’s wrong?” Ezra asked, as if sensing my unease.

  “Where is all the food?” I asked quietly. “It’s so…empty.”

  “Oh, honey, there’s been plenty of food sent over.” A thin woman with shoulder-length bottle-blonde hair wearing a blue blouse with peplum sleeves came into the kitchen from a hallway to the right of us. I recognized her and her misshapen lips as Lucy Campbell, the woman who’d been sitting with Big Don and his wife at Players the night before.

  “I promise you,” she said. “Jen’s fridge and freezer are plum full.” I guessed Lucy to be near my age, in her fifties, but she’d had obvious plastic surgery, so it was hard to tell.

  “Hi, Lucy,” Reese said. “I didn’t see your car outside.”

  “I rode over with Jameson. He likes to drive that old truck sometimes.” She gave Reese a brief hug and an air kiss on her cheek. “I don’t know that I’ve seen you in your uniform before. You look wonderful. Your aunt Jenny is always bragging on you. How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

  Reese dipped her head and looked away. “As good as I can be. I’m more worried about Aunt Jenny and Uncle Reagan. Where is everyone?”

  “Reagan, Jameson, Big Don, and a few others have gathered in the smoking room.” She gave Reese a wistful smile that caused a weird pucker in her upper lip. “It’s good for them to be together.” Lucy pivoted her gaze to Ezra and me. “Well, introduce me to your guests.”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry,” Reese said. “This is Detective Ezra Holden and Nora Black. She’s…” I could see Reese searching for a reasonable description to explain my presence.

  “I’m a consultant for the Garden Cove PD,” I said.

  “Consultant, huh.” Lucy tilted her head to the side. “Nora Black.” She tapped her chin. “We used to have a chief of police named Black. Any relation?”

  “He was my dad,” I said.

  “Connor was a decent man,” she said fondly. “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  “Easy, Nora, this is Lucy Campbell, she and her husband are part of a business group here in town with my aunt and uncle. They’ve all been friends for a long time.”

  “Nice to meet, you.” I extended my hand. Lucy gave it a look then grasped just my fingertips and gave my hand a limp shake.

  “The pleasure is mine,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Where’s Aunt Jenny?” Reese asked.

  “She and Claire are out by the pool.” She shooed us with a quick wave of her hands. “You three go on out. I’m getting more ice for the drinks.”

  After we exited the kitchen through the French double doors, I spied Lucy’s husband, Jameson Campbell, leaning against a pillar, his arms crossed over his chest, staring off into the distance. His hair wasn’t slicked back today, and his graying locks fell against his forehead. He, like his wife, seemed more my age than the McKays and Portmans.

  Reese pointed at him. “There’s Jameson, Lucy’s husband.” She waved at him when he looked at us. He gave her a two-finger salute from his forehead then twirled his hand and gave a short bow.

  Reese gave him a brief smile as we walked toward two women. Claire Portman, wife of Big Don Portman, was sitting next to a heavier set woman with dark auburn hair so much like Fiona’s, it had to be her mother, Jenny McKay. The closer I got, the more I realized I had seen Jenny before. She’d come to my mom’s visitation.

  Her eyes were swollen and red, and there were crumpled tissues wadded up on the table. Claire was holding one of her hands, and they both had amber-colored drinks in short highball glasses, no ice.

  “Wait here,” Reese said. “I’ll be right back.” She left Ezra and me to join her aunt and Claire by the pool.”

  “I don’t think they’re drinking tea,” I said.

  “Probably not,” Ezra agreed.

  Jameson walked over to us. “It’s whiskey-thirty somewhere,” he said. “Hi,” he held out his hand, “I’m Jameson Campbell.”

  “Have we met?” There was something familiar about him, but I got a lot of people coming through our shop on a daily business.

  “I’ve seen you around, Ms. Black,” he said. There was something about Jameson Campbell that churned my gut. I took a step back as the smell of honeysuckle drifted in the air.

  “Come on, darlin’, take a walk with me,” the man says. “The lake’s real pretty tonight. Not as pretty as you, of course.” I recognize Jameson’s slicked waves.

  “You ol’ so-n-so,” a woman says. It’s his wife, Lucy. “You always were a smooth talker.”

  “How else was I gonna get you to marry me?” He puts his arm around her. They walk down to the lake. Honeysuckle vines are in bloom on both sides of the trail. When they reach the dock, the man holds out his hand. He’s wearing a gold ring with a black onyx stone, a half circle and line symbol cut into it.

  I stared at Jameson Campbell as my vision ended. The symbol on Jameson’s ring was similar if not identical to the marking I’d seen on Boot Guy’s watch as he’d offered Fiona that snort of white powder. What did it mean?

  “Do I have something on my face?” He touched his cheek, and I saw the ring from the memory.

  So much had happened since that first Fiona vision, I couldn’t tell if his voice was that of Boot’s Guy, but the symbol was far too big a coincidence not to address. “Do you have a watch that matches that ring?”

  He shook his head. “Not anymore. I lost it a while back,” he said. “I only have the ring now. Why?”

  “Does the symbol mean anything?” Ezra asked.

  Jameson’s smile tightened into a grimace. “It’s a C, G, and an E, depending
on how you look at it. Several of us got them about fifteen years ago when we started really developing tourism around here.” He flushed. “It means Garden Cove Elite. Why do you want to know?”

  I glanced from Jameson to Ezra. “We’re going to need a list of all the men who are part of the GCE.”

  Jameson looked taken aback. “Why?”

  Ezra put an arm around my shoulders. “Excuse us, will you?” He took me away from the frowning man. “That symbol has something do with your visions, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes. I saw it on Boot Guy’s wristwatch.” I looked over Ezra’s shoulder and caught the hard stare of Jameson. “He, or one of his friends, might be the killer.”

  Chapter 18

  “I can’t believe anyone from our circle would have hurt Fiona,” Don Portman said. “It’s ridiculous. We’ve all watched that girl grow up. She’s family.”

  My revelation had brought all the men outside from the house. Jenny, Claire, and Lucy were huddled together. Jenny’s two friends stood on either side of her, bolstering her with support. A picture-perfect friendship. They reminded me of Gilly, Pippa, and myself. Always there for each other in good times and bad. But something seemed off, and I couldn’t help but think that sometimes pictures were deceiving.

  Ezra had asked Reagan and Big Don to join us outside. Big Don, at six foot five, towered over all of us.

  “You say you got a witness who saw my girl arguing with someone wearing that watch?” Reagan McKay demanded, narrowing his eyes at me. Reagan was short and girthy with light blue eyes and a full head of silvery-gray hair. “I find it hard to believe.”

  We’d lied about the witness. Obviously. I didn’t need more people knowing about my smell-o-vision ability.

  “It’s true, Uncle Reagan,” Reese said.

  Reagan wagged a finger at her. “No one I know would harm my child,” he scoffed angrily. “The whole idea is utterly ridiculous.”

  “But you’re willing to believe she accidentally drowned?” Jenny asked in a pained whisper.

  Reagan looked at his wife, his expression full of anguish. “She…” He shook his head.

  “What, Reagan?” Jenny asked. “Just tell me. I know you’re holding information back. I understand you believe you’re protecting me. You’re not. I’m not a child, and I know Fiona had her problems. But she was getting better. She was getting back to her old self again.”

  “She was a drug addict,” he barked. “I wanted to shield you from all this. Our daughter drowned because she was high.”

  Reese opened her mouth to say something, but Ezra shook his head. He clearly wanted to see where the conversation would go.

  “No,” Jenny insisted firmly. “She hadn’t done that stuff in a long while.”

  Her husband’s eyes welled with tears. “You knew?”

  “Of course I did. She was my girl. A mother knows. But she swore to me she was getting help. I believe…believed her.” She clenched and unclenched her hands. “I still do.”

  “Oh, Jenny.” Reagan walked over to his wife and took her hand. “They found oxycodone and fentanyl in her blood, darlin’. That’s not something you’re going to find in someone who’s getting help. What makes more sense, that someone killed her or that she fell into the lake somewhere because she wasn’t in her right mind?”

  So, Reagan McKay knew about the drugs, and he’d kept it from his wife. I knew he was trying to protect her, but buried secrets had a way of unearthing themselves. And what about the pregnancy? Was that something the police would have told them already? Reese hadn’t known until today, and so far in this conversation, it hadn’t come up.

  “Fiona’s drowning might have been an accident,” I said. “But there was something else going on with her. Did you know she was planning to leave town?” I asked them.

  “Where in the world would she go?” Jenny asked.

  Reagan sucked his teeth. “Our girl didn’t have two nickels to rub together. She spent money like it was burning her fingertips. It’s why we had to cut her off.”

  “That’s not all,” Reese said. “She was—” I got the sense she was about to drop the pregnancy bomb, but Ezra cleared his throat and gave her a head tilt.

  Reese gave him a sidelong look. “Can you give us a minute?” she asked her aunt and uncle. We all walked to the other side of the pool and out of earshot of Fiona’s parents and their friends.

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to tell your aunt and uncle about Fiona’s…situation.” He glanced over at the group. “Reagan doesn’t want to believe it’s anything more than accidental.”

  “Fiona has put them both through a lot, Easy. But he loved her. She was his world. Don’t let his manner tell you different. It’s just his way.”

  “I was here yesterday,” Ezra said. “I know his mourning is real. But you’ve got Big Don and this Jameson fellow over there, and their wives. Laying our cards on the table is a dangerous move. There’s a chance one of them is involved in all this mess. We shouldn’t give all the goods away.” He tapped the drive in his pocket and eyed Reese.

  “We’re talking about my cousin,” she said, clenching her fists at her sides in frustration.

  “You’re either law enforcement in this situation or you’re not. I’ll accept either and proceed as necessary.”

  Reese took a deep breath and then nodded her head curtly. “I’m a cop.”

  “Then be a cop if you want to help your cousin,” Ezra said.

  “That’s not fair,” she seethed. “They’re my family. But I agree. I don’t like it, but I agree.”

  It was difficult to be on Ezra’s side right now, because asking Reese to hold back information from her family was a hard pill to swallow, but we needed to keep some of what we knew on lockdown. “Reese, I understand how hard this is. Believe me. But you came to me for help. We still don’t have any concrete evidence for you guys to open an official investigation. Too much knowledge in the wrong hands might lose you any evidence that might still exist.” Like where Reese’s ruby and diamond ring had gone. “When this is over, you can tell them everything.”

  She sighed then reached around her head and tightened her ponytail as if readying to get down to business. “We came here to look at Fiona’s quarters. We should do that.”

  I nodded. “That’s a good plan.”

  I’d been half afraid that the McKays wouldn’t let us into Fiona’s space, not after Ezra had demanded that Reagan make us a list of every GCE member. I couldn’t help but cringe at the idea of the Garden Cove Elite men’s group being suspects. It smacked of a secret society built for the wealthy and powerful, so many of whom believed they were above the law.

  I couldn’t imagine Reagan protecting any of the members if he would have had knowledge that they’d been corrupting his daughter, though. But terrible things happened in this world, and sometimes that terrible was perpetrated by family.

  I shivered. The idealistic view I’d once held of Garden Cove faded even more.

  Hell, at this rate it would soon be ash.

  Jenny had come to the guesthouse with us. “If you find anything, I want to be there,” she’d explained, still pale and shaken. “I have a right.”

  Since this wasn’t official police business, and no warrant was involved, it wasn’t as if we could keep her away.

  Reese’s hand trembled so much she dropped the key.

  Ezra picked it up. “I’ll do it,” he said. When he reached for the handle, before he could even try to unlock it, it turned. “Huh. It’s already open.”

  “I locked it up yesterday when I left. I know I did.” Reese circled to her aunt. “Has anyone been in her since I left yesterday?”

  “I’ve only let you in,” Jenny said. “Maybe you forgot to lock it.”

  Ezra opened the door. “Oh, man,” he said. “Was the place like this yesterday?” He went inside, with the rest of us right behind him.

  The guesthouse had an open living room and kitchen space. Couch cushions littered the floor,
end tables were overturned, and a picture of the lake had been torn off the wall.

  “Who would do this?” Reese asked as she headed down the short hallway.

  “And how?” I added.

  This gated subdivision had a crap-ton of security. I couldn’t see anyone just driving up and breaking in without some alarm or camera picking it up. It looked as if the place had been searched thoroughly, but not with the same viciousness that had been employed on my house.

  Had it been Sideburns Guy? Or Boots Guy? Or maybe even the new player introduced in the last vision? I thought because Sideburns Guy been coming into the store for a couple of weeks, he couldn’t possibly have anything to do with Fiona, but what if I was wrong? What if him stalking me and Fiona’s death were linked somehow? The only common denominator we had was that both of us had been afraid of Phil Williams.

  Jenny left the guesthouse looking as horrified as I felt. I was still reeling from the violation on my home. Run, Jenny, I thought. If I could’ve, I would’ve run, too.

  Reese came back into the living room. “The bedroom and bathroom have been picked over as well.” Softly, she asked, “Do you think this is about Fiona’s flash drive you all found in Nora’s purse?”

  Ezra eyes darkened. He glanced around the space. “Probably.”

  Jenny came back with Reagan. Jameson and Big Don were on their tail. “I’ve called the police,” Reagan said. “The real ones.”

  Ouch, that hurt. It wasn’t as if our presence had caused someone to break in without being seen at all.

  “Good.” Ezra dropped into detective mode. “I was going to call them, so you’ve saved me a step. Officer McKay, could you move everyone out of here and secure the scene. Until we get gloves and foot covers, no one is allowed in or out of the place. Got it?”

  “Yes, Detective Holden.” She turned to her family and their friends. “Everyone out.”

  I guess Ezra and Reese decided to show Reagan just how real they were. “What about me?” I asked.