“Care to explain what happened here?”
“Only if you promise not to tell me I’ve taken my Karate Kid role too seriously…”
And that was when Dana Nelson laughed so hard, he had to hold his stomach and wipe the tears from his eyes.
* * * *
As we sat in the back of the ambulance after giving our statements, hot coffee in hand, blankets around our shoulders, we listened to Dana and Sandwich while the snow continued to fall and they talked to the other officers at the crime scene.
Peering over the steaming Styrofoam cup, I turned to Trixie, her sweet face with the clearest skin ever, now a bit bruised and scratched from her scuffle. “What did you find on Luanne’s Facebook page?”
“Holy sinners and saints! You won’t believe it. It was this longwinded post, a thinly veiled diatribe I guess you’d call it, about how family was family, and she couldn’t believe how she was treated by her own sister.”
“Aha!” I said on a laugh. “I should have known vague-booking was Luanne’s bent. She’s very dramatic. Should have seen her sweep into Francie’s earlier today. Very grande dame-ish”
“Well, my first clue it had something to do with today at Francie’s was the timestamp. She posted it after she left Francie’s, if the timestamp is correct. But some of the comments in support of her dramatic display were suspect, too.”
I tugged the blanket tighter around me. “Like?”
“One person, some guy in Santa Clarita, said, and I quote, ‘You were tricked into doing what you did, Lu-Lu. We all know it. Tricked by that hag Francie and her husband John to give him up.’ The second I saw that, I compared Luanne’s photos to Hank’s. They look so much alike, it’s eerie when you put their photographs side by side.”
I held up my fist to her for a fist bump. “Nice job, Detective Lavender! You’re right. Luanne is Hank’s biological mother, and according to Francie, she left him and never looked back.”
Trixie snorted and sipped her coffee. “I didn’t hang up my habit for this line of work, but I have to admit, when I found that clue, I was pretty excited. It felt good to feel useful.”
I gasped in outrage, giving her arm a squeeze. “Useful? Helllooo, Sister Trixie. You took some hit for Coop. Never, ever tell me you’re not a fighter. Because you were amazing tonight.”
“Coop’s done it for me,” she said in her quiet way, never allowing herself the credit she deserved. We’d have to work on that.
I bobbed my head. “You saved me tonight. I can’t ever thank you enough for that. Francie was going to lop my head off with that ax. So, I don’t know about you, but I like my brains on the inside. You’re my hero. Which makes Miss Coop amazing, too. Right, Coop?”
Coop lifted her head and gazed intently at me. “Right. Trixie is amazing. I’m amazing. You’re amazing.”
I grinned from ear to ear. “That’s exactly right. Women supporting women is what it’s all about. No matter how sick with jealousy they make us with their perfect faces and perfect bodies. Never forget that. Now, remember what I showed you?” I held up my fist. “Gimme one, Gorgeous.”
Coop gave me a fist bump.
I nodded again. “Now blow it up, Coop.”
And she did by splaying her fingers wide. And then we laughed. Well, I laughed. Coop sort of smirked. But whatever. We were getting there.
Trixie cupped her hands around her coffee. “Here’s something I’ve been wondering since I considered Luanne might be Hank’s mother.”
“What’s that?”
“Did Hank know Francie wasn’t his mother? Is that why he took all of Abe’s money and wouldn’t share with his sister? As some sort of weird payback?”
Sandwich poked his head inside the interior of the ambulance, his big body made larger by his parka. “He didn’t know. Not for all his life, but according to Francie, she made sure she told him while he was dying. Gotta tell ya, never thought Mrs. Levigne had a cruel bone in her body, but jeez Louise.”
I stabbed a finger in the air. “Which proves my point. You can never really know a person. Here’s something that’s been bugging me since we’ve been sitting here, Sandwich. Why was Hank here at the store the night he died, anyway? And how could Francie have told him about Luanne when he was dying? I mean, how could she have known that was the night he was going to die if it took so long for the Visine to work?”
Dana approached with a grim look on his chiseled face. “Dumb luck. Pricilla says they followed him to the store that night to confront him about the money. They were getting tired of waiting for him to die. Her words, I swear.” He flipped open his notepad and read whatever he’d jotted down. “But also, in Pricilla’s words, just as they confronted him, ‘He fell on the ground. Deader than a doornail’.”
“Why was bad Hank Morrison here at the store, Officer Dana Nelson?” Coop asked, nary a scratch on her, her hair silkily falling around her face in cascades of dusky red.
He cocked his head at her for a moment with a strange look on his face at the way she’d addressed him.
But I distracted him. “Yeah. Why was Hank here at Inkerbelle’s, Officer Dana Nelson?
“What do you think he was up to, Miss Amateur Sleuth?” Dana joked.
I shrugged. “Practicing his vocals because the acoustics in the store are the bomb. No, wait. Meeting a secret lover? No. It’s not terribly romantic in there, is it?”
Dana sighed. “Always with the comedy act, huh? He was looking for a diamond ring buried in the floor of your storeroom, Coop. Looks as though Abe loved to hide things, and he’d bought a ring for Francie’s birthday, which was just two days after his death. He hid it in the store and drew a diagram of its hiding place because he was a forgetful old coot, according to Francie. But he died before he could collect it, and you ladies moved in before Hank found the diagram.”
“So he was going to steal her birthday gift, too? Jeez! Creep.” I wasn’t sure whom I should feel sorrier for. Dead Hank or murderess Francie. Then I slapped my thighs. “How did Hank find Abe’s diagram anyway?”
Dana rocked back on his heels, the snow beating at his police officer’s cap. “When he was helping pack away some of Abe’s clothes for donation. Abe was a generous guy, according to Pricilla. Hank found the diagram tucked away in an old shirt. When they came to Inkerbelle’s to confront Hank that night, he taunted them with the drawing of the ring’s hiding place. Just another thing to steal from them, if you listen to Francie Levigne tell it. But it was worth over twenty thousand dollars.”
I whistled, my eyes wide. “So is that why Pricilla came back here last night and almost knocked me out?”
Dana’s eyes narrowed. “Speaking of coming back here…to a crime scene…where you’re not supposed to be…”
Ah. One of the two women must have ratted me out. Murderers and snitches, the both of them!
But I shook my finger at him. “You listen here, Officer Rigid. There was a living animal in this store and you numbskulls just left him without a word to Coop and Trixie. He could have died, Dana! We were merely doing the job you guys should have done in the first place.”
“Nice way to gaslight, Miss Talks To Dead People,” Dana said, clucking his tongue. “I agree it was a poor choice, but we couldn’t get in touch with animal control, so it was the only choice. As much as I love animals, you don’t think I looked up how long the owl could survive without food? You know me better than that, so quit talking crazy. Not to mention, how was I supposed to know he wouldn’t eat my hand off if I tried to take him?” Then he smirked.
“Fine, fine,” I joked, letting my legs dangle and swing at the edge of the ambulance. “So why did Pricilla come back here? For the ring? Did you guys find it?”
Now he grinned, his handsome face lighting up. “We did. Pricilla said they didn’t have time to look for the ring because Trixie and Coop came back seconds after Hank died. So they slipped out as fast as they could. But Pricilla came back last night for her earring. She lost it the night they confronted
Hank in Inkerbelle’s. She knew it would put her at the store the night of Hank’s murder. Why else would she be in someone else’s store after hours? You just managed to catch her off guard in the middle of her search.”
Rubbing my forehead, I nodded. “Um, yeah. I have the shiner to prove it, buddy.” I paused then and wondered out loud, “Then why were they here tonight?”
“To keep looking for the earring. Pricilla was afraid we’d found it. She was right, too. But Pricilla’s cousin is Duncan Levitt, one of Eb Falls’ finest. He told us both Francie and Pricilla had been behaving strangely, asking him a lot of questions. He didn’t like it, but he’s a good cop so he gave us a head’s up. And because family is almost always suspect, we told him to let slip that we had very little physical evidence to go on. Nothing but Coop’s tattoo gun to show for our efforts.”
I smiled knowingly and jabbed him in his bulky arm. “Nice play, Officer By The Book!”
But Trixie was the one who found this news most exciting. She hopped out of the ambulance and said, “So you had Duncan drop a crumb, leading them to believe Pricilla’s earring might still be at Inkerbelle’s. I bet they thought the ring might still be here, too!”
“Aw, man,” Dana groused with a chuckle. “You’ve been hanging around our Miss Cartwright a little long for my comfort. But yes. You’re absolutely right, Miss Lavender. Duncan contacted us about an hour ago, right after finally getting in touch with Francie and Pricilla. We’d planned to do a stakeout and wait to see if they’d take the bait—but naturally, Miss Cartwright got herself mixed up in the middle of everything before anyone could do anything.”
I hopped off the ambulance, too, and shook my head. “Oh, no you don’t, pal. I was walking Whiskey, minding my own business. Is it my fault they left the door open to Inkerbelle’s like the bumbling criminals they are, and he rushed inside? No, siree. No, it is not.”
Whiskey, hearing his name, poked his head out of the truck and barked, making us all laugh.
Coop ran her hands over his big head, and it was nice to see her warming to him when she whispered, “You’re a good boy, Stevie Cartwright’s dog. A very good boy,” before dropping a kiss on the top of his head.
I turned to Dana, giving him a light punch in the arm. “Hey, I’m sorry again we missed our coffee date. Was it anything important you wanted to talk about?”
“Nope. Just wanted to catch up.”
I wasn’t sure I believed him, because he’d been very specific when he’d invited me out for coffee…but he didn’t look as though he were ready to share, so I winked at him. “You’d better be careful, Officer Nelson. I might think we’re friends. You don’t want to give me the wrong impression, do you?”
“Heaven forbid,” he teased with a wink of his own.
I shivered. It was time to take everyone back to the house and pack it in for the night. “So are we cleared for takeoff now, Officer Nelson?”
“For the moment. But don’t you three go too far. We may have more questions for you in the next few days as we sort the rest of this out. Are we clear?”
I sighed, letting my shoulders slump as I looked at the two women. “Shoot, girls. I guess that means we’ll have to delay our trip to Australia to see the Thunder From Down Under strippers.”
Coop jumped out of the ambulance, pulling Whiskey with her, her beautiful face made more beautiful by the swirling red and blue of the police cars flashers. “What are strippers down under, Stevie Cartwright? We didn’t have any strippers anywhere down under,” she said plainly, giving me that direct gaze. “Oh, and what are strippers?”
“Yeah, Stevie Cartwright, what are strippers?” Trixie asked, and then she began to laugh…laugh so hard, she had to hold her belly and bend at the waist.
And I laughed with her as we made our way back to Madam Zoltar’s in the falling snow.
Just three women and a dog, laughing and chatting—a true testament to girl power at its finest.
Epilogue
One week later…
“You guys have everything?” I asked Coop and Trixie as they packed up their car with the last remaining boxes from the store.
A week had passed since the death of Hank Morrison, and Coop had been cleared of all charges. Dana was able to share with us more evidence they’d found against Pricilla and Francie. Namely, the searches done on Pricilla’s laptop about the substance in Visine that was so harmful to Hank due to his heart issues. After that last visit from the police, we all breathed a sigh of relief.
Some of the finer details of that night when I’d battled it out with Francie and Pricilla emerged in increments. One of which was why Win had called out Coop’s name in the middle of such chaos. Seems we’d both forgotten she could hear Win, and when he remembered she could at just the right time, he’d decided it was worth a shot, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am for that.
Poor Whiskey had a knot on his head after Francie had clocked him with the handle of her ax because he wouldn’t stop jumping on her. But the vet said he was just fine, and he’d recover fully.
Because the girls had no place to stay while they figured out their next step, they’d stayed with us—and it had been a week of many things.
Mostly, it had been a week of blossoming friendship. I’d grown quite fond of these two women, and Livingston for that matter. He could call me a pretty lady with that Irish accent all day, every day.
Trixie had promised, once they’d settled, to see if she could find out any information about the artist who’d inked the tattoo Win described to her—and she’d sketched for him in glorious detail. She truly was gifted. And I had a standing invitation with Coop if I ever wanted a tattoo of my own.
I was going to miss them terribly when they were gone, Livingston included. Sadly, the girls had opted to leave Ebenezer Falls. The store was a mess, and with it now in probate until the courts could decide who it should be given to for management, it forced Trixie and Coop to make a decision.
So last night, to show them what being a part of a community rich in love and support (even if we had our differences) was all about, we had a big spaghetti dinner with Enzo, Carmella, Dana, and Melba. We’d laughed. We’d toasted new beginnings. We’d drunk too much wine. We’d laughed some more.
And today, with the warm sunshine beating down on our heads, and the sounds of Whiskey playing fetch on the lawn with Bel in the background, they were leaving, and I was woefully depressed.
But I plastered a smile on my face and said, “So I guess you’re leaving me for that life you talked about wanting, huh? Fine friends you are.”
We all stood out in the driveway by their newly fixed car, the Puget breeze blowing in our hair. Sailboats floated by in a colorful array, and the waves passed, frothy and rolling.
Trixie burst out laughing under the noonday sun, her chestnut hair glimmering, her eyes bright “After seeing you, Stevie. After watching you live your life, even with all the hardships you’ve suffered getting here, with all the adversity, and witnessing all the people and love you’ve accumulated since you lost your powers…it gives me hope. You know that, right?”
My throat tightened at Trixie’s words. No one knew better than I how hard it was to start over again—to leave everything you loved and try to make it on your own. We’d both been forced to do just that. Me from Paris, and her from the convent.
I winked. “I’m glad you found hope, Sister Trixie Lavender. What’s the point of life if there’s no hope?”
She grinned. She’d done that a lot this week, and it made my heart happy. “And that’s all because of you. You didn’t just clear Coop’s name, my friend. You gave us an eyeful of what living really is, and we want that. I want that. I want to live, and experience, and laugh, and make friends. I want to be a part of a community, and have people over for spaghetti dinners the way you do. Lots and lots of people.”
Coop nodded, rubbing her nonexistent belly. “I want spaghetti dinners, too, Stevie Cartwright. Yes, I do. Spaghetti is delicious.
”
I looped my arm through Coop’s and gave her a squeeze. “I wish you a thousand spaghetti dinners, Coop the Demon, and then a thousand more.”
She gave me her point blank stare as the wind blew her gorgeously silky hair around her face. “I like you, Stevie Cartwright. I like you very much. You’re a very nice human. Will you always be my friend?”
I threw my arms around her neck and gave her the tightest hug I could summon, and whispered, “Always, always, Coop.”
And wonder of all wonders, Coop hugged me back before firmly setting me from her, and then she gave me that awkward pat on my shoulder to let me know she appreciated me.
I held out my arms to Trixie, my eyes welling with tears. “I wish you guys would reconsider staying. It would be so nice to have people living right here in Eb Falls who really understand what it’s like to have those two men in my ears all the time and won’t call me crazy for the having.”
Trixie gave me a hard squeeze before leaning back and cupping my elbows. Her smile was watery and her voice full of emotion. “I wish we could, too, Stevie. You’ve been so kind to us, and I’ll never forget everything you’ve done. But I think too much has happened here in Eb Falls for us to stay—we need a fresh start. Plus, the store is kind of a mess with all the broken glass. We can’t afford to fix that, and the police told us they didn’t know how long the store would be tied up as evidence or who it would belong to in the end. But we won’t be far. Just in Portland. So I expect to see you at one of my spaghetti dinners really soon, okay?” she whispered, a tear falling down her porcelain cheek.
I wiped it away with my thumb and grinned, fighting my own tears. “I’ll bring the wine. Now off with you both before I change my mind and beg you to stay. And I warn you, I can be veeery persuasive. I’ll cling to Coop’s leg, and cry and plead, and things will get really ugly, really fast.” I gave Livingston a kiss on the top of his head and scratched him between the ears.
Good Witch Hunting Page 19