by Sarah Kelly
“Come as early as you can.”
“I will.”
India could hear her heart beating in her chest. She was already beginning to think of what new skills she could glean from Luis to help her bust the murderous boyfriend.
Though she wasn’t all that good at transmitting or picking up signals yet, she sent him out a quick message. Will you help me, Luis?
And the answer came back immediately, a warm feeling in her chest area. Sure thing, mami.
India put her arm around Amy. “Don’t worry. You’ll be out in no time, looking for your next catering job. You just wait.”
Amy smiled at her weakly. “Just promise you’ll investigate.”
India’s smile back was just as wobbly, but she managed it. “I swear.”
CHAPTER 3
When India left Amy and Xavier at the police station, she tried to contact Luis again for some advice, but no reply came. She guessed she was alone for the moment. It was daybreak, the night fading into pink, and the drive back in Amy’s convertible was truly beautiful. Palms swayed in the magenta-tinged morning, and the hiss of the waves as they lapped up onto the beach was about the only thing India could hear. The roads were mostly empty.
She was surprisingly alert the whole way home – in fact, almost wired – but by the time she had gotten the key in the door of her tiny, Key West style home, her eyelids were drooping, and as soon as she’d flung herself on the bed, she dropped into a deep sleep.
She woke up with a jolt. A bright day blazed through the open drapes, and she scrambled over the sheet to find her phone. What was the time? Thankfully it was only 9am, which meant she hadn’t let Amy down too badly. India could still get over to the beach house and do some digging before Amy was released.
Twisting her deep brown hair into a messy topknot, she stepped into the bathroom. After the quickest shower known to man, she slipped into one of her favorite dresses – a deep blue one with spaghetti straps that fell to her feet. It had stars dotted all over it, and whenever she wore it she felt powerful. As she slid her sunshades on, she pinged Luis another message from her mind.
Can we talk? I think I need some help here.
But again, there was no answer. She wondered if there was a magic equivalent of leaving your phone off the hook.
After grabbing a croissant and a can of grapefruit juice from the fridge, she was on her way.
It was only when she reached the beach house that nervousness began to creep up on her. Who was she, really, to barge in there and say she was going to investigate? She hadn’t told Xavier, but since she couldn’t hide anything from him, it was going to come out eventually. He’d probably be furious, concerned for her safety, and absolutely adamant that she should stop. Plus, the murderer could be lurking behind the beach house shutters, waiting for the perfect moment to make their next deadly strike. It was more than alarming that Hayden Fleming had somehow managed to slip away from the crowd unseen the previous night. He hadn’t been seen since, and Xavier was now almost sure he was the killer, and India was pretty convinced, too. It made India’s blood chill that Hayden could return at any time. But she had made a promise to Amy, and she wasn’t about to break it.
She swung the convertible into the gravel driveway, which gave her a much noisier entrance than she’d have liked, then went over to knock on the front door. As she waited, she looked around. Even the front balcony was glorious, the gray stone overlaid with white and pale blue wood to create the most gorgeous verandah. India imagined herself kicking back on a swing seat with a good book and a pina colada, occasionally looking up at the rolling waves and the vivid flowers that bloomed all around. After this case was closed, she could surely do with some of that.
No one answered the door, so she went around to the side, where the pools began. Maybe she could climb up through the series of pools, over the walkway, and onto the terrace. Hopefully she’d then find a door open, and persuade someone to talk with her. That is, if no one attacked her, thinking she was an intruder.
Her nerves on edge, she hurried around back to the lowest pool, on ground level. Police tape turned the beauty spot into a crime scene, and India had to duck under it to get in. She wondered if that was illegal, but she continued up the steps by the side of the pools.
“Hello?” she called out tentatively, as she made her way up.
“What?” a woman snapped. It sounded like she was on the terrace.
India froze, her heart thumping. “It’s… it’s India Kirby, Amy the caterer’s friend. I was coming to finish up the cleaning.”
A sigh came. “Why didn’t you just knock the door?”
India started up the stairs again. “I did, but no one answered.” When she reached the top, she saw it was Answer who’d spoken. She was sitting in a lotus position in an area of the terrace shaded by an imposing potted palm. “Oh, hi, Answer.”
“It’s certainly a day to be high, not low,” Answer replied, closing her eyes. She looked like a spiritual guru of some kind, dressed all in white, her purple hair braided down past her shoulders.
India nodded, no idea what Answer was talking about. She noticed Answer had the same basket by her again, though with only around half the tiny bottles she’d had the previous night. A trail of light gray smoke wisped upward from some kind of ceramic container, dancing across Answer’s face and giving her a mystical look. It smelled sickly sweet, with a tinge of spice.
India turned toward the house, and saw through the glass doors into the dining room, but she didn’t make a move. She knew she needed to quiz Answer, but didn’t know where to start without sounding like an awful busy body. Plus, it seemed she’d be interrupting some kind of spiritual ritual. But the thought of Amy’s distress spurred her on.
She took a seat on the end of a sun lounger. “Answer, before I go in, I just wanted to know if you’ve heard anything about where Hayden is.”
“No,” she said.
“You know he ran away, right?”
“Yes.”
The mood was distinctly uncomfortable, but India pressed on. “Do you have any idea why Hayden would have wanted to kill Onyx?”
Answer’s eyes snapped open and she turned to face India. “I don’t think he did it.”
“But he ran, though. Surely that’s an indication of guilt?”
“I don’t think so.”
India let out a deep breath. She got the feeling she was already wasting her time. “So who do you think did it?”
“More importantly, why would Hayden have done it? There’s no reason for him to, is there? They’re not married, so there’s no guarantee her money would go to him.”
“Do you know who it would go to?” India asked. “She has any family?”
“No, they cut her all off when she fell from stardom the first time.” Answer screwed up her nose. “They’d have been right back, though, if they’d known she’d already raked in a couple million from this new tour.”
“So her family are not in her will?”
“I don’t know if she has a will. Probably not,” Answer said. “I mean, Mark’s supposed to take care of things like that, but he doesn’t always dot his I’s and cross his T’s. He’s a creative, really, and can persuade people to do things, so that makes for a good manager, I guess, but he’s got no practical sense.”
“Hmm.” India thought for a moment. “So why do you think Hayden ran?”
“Distraught. Confused. I guess because of his affair with Gianna he thought he might be targeted.”
India nodded. “His affair with Gianna… I saw them together, and she got jumpy. That makes a lot of sense. You don’t think Gianna…?”
“Could have killed Onyx? I don’t see why not. I mean, it was always Mark who kept her on board, really. Onyx liked the styles Gianna put together for her, but there was no love lost between them on a personal level.”
“Oh, right.”
“Why do you care so much, anyways? Who’s Onyx to you?”
“No, it’s
my friend Amy. I mean, obviously I’m sorry about Onyx… passing away and all, but my friend is super worried she’s going to be charged. Because she gave her the glass of champagne just before she died.”
Answer nodded. “You’re a good friend.”
“I’m trying.” Focusing her mind back to the case, India asked, “So you think Gianna did it?”
Answer took on a very calm look. “I don’t want to be biased, but that’s what my intuition tells me.”
“Because Gianna and Hayden are seeing each other behind Onyx’s back?”
“Right.” Answer inhaled deeply, then puffed out a stream of breath. It looked like some kind of meditation technique. “Wait a second,” she said, then started delving into her basket. She fished out two bottles – one tiny, one a little larger. She squirted out some oil from the larger onto the back of her hand, then shook the tiny bottle a couple times. Using a forefinger she mixed them together, then dabbed the mixture once on her neck, then once between her eyes.
“What’s that?”
“Bay laurel essential oil to open my third eye chakra. I don’t want to spread false information.”
India nodded, and suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She wondered what Luis would think.
“Okay,” Answer said, closing her eyes again. “I’m here. Ask me the question again.”
“You think Gianna killed Onyx because Gianna wanted Hayden all to herself?”
“Yes,” Answer replied. She gave out a low humming sound for a moment, then opened her eyes. “And Hayden knows she did it. She told him the plan, and he disagreed with it. Then she went ahead in any case. He ran because he panicked. Maybe because he wanted to save Gianna by making himself look guilty.”
India felt her heart beat a bit faster. “That makes a lot of sense.”
Answer gave India a serene smile. “If there’s one thing in life I’ve learned, it’s that we know more than we think we do.”
India leaned back on the sun lounger and looked up as a fluffy cloud was carried over them by the breeze. If there was one thing she’d learned about life, especially after meeting her magical mentor, it was that we all know far less than we think we do.
The sound of running water inside the house made India turn, but it was out of sight.
“Just someone in the kitchen,” Answer said, catching India’s movement. She then peered at her in quite an intense way. “I sense something rather different about you, India, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
India’s breath caught. No one knew she was a ‘witch’. It was so strange, even thinking of that word. For India, it had always conjured up images of blue or green skinned women with tall crooked hats, hooked noses, and broomsticks. Not a flattering image. “Really?”
“Definitely,” Answer said. “I feel it very strongly. Some kind of power. You have a great mission ahead of you in this lifetime.”
India began to feel a little uncomfortable. Luis told her that under no circumstances must she disclose her gift, or there would be terrible repercussions. Not of his own making, though – it was just how magic protected itself, he said. Eager to change the subject, she asked, “Is Gianna here?”
Answer gave her a knowing smile, like she could see right through her. “Sure, we’re not allowed to leave. She’s upstairs, I think.”
“Thank you so much.” India got up from the sunlounger. “And thank you for talking with me.”
Answer laughed. “Oh, I’ll tell anyone anything. I have no secrets. I’m transparent.”
India wasn’t sure if that was a pointed remark. Answer looked back at her innocently enough.
“Okay, well, we’ll speak later, I guess,” India said.
Answer closed her eyes again. “Blessings on your journey.”
India wasn’t sure how to reply. She stepped into the dining room to find there were still a few dirty plates lying around. Guessing she should actually do what she said she came to do, or at least make a pretence at it, she began to stack them, ready to take through to the kitchen.
“Will you stop that clanking around in there?” a man said angrily. “Someone’s just died, and people have hangovers. What is this?” The tall figure of Mark Meyer appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands dry on a dishcloth.
“Oh, sorry, sir,” India said. “I was just coming to clear up for Amy.”
“Who the heck is that?” he said, frowning. He touched his head and winced.
“The caterer.”
“Do it later,” he snapped. “I’m trying to make myself a snack in the kitchen and I don’t need hells bells all up in my ears.”
India was beginning to dislike him pretty fast. “Sure. I just needed to speak with Gianna.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“She said she was going to pay me,” India said innocently.
“Go up the stairs, second door on the left.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah.” He got his smartphone out of his pocket and began tapping as he dragged his feet back into the kitchen.
India couldn’t help but make a face behind his back as she climbed the whitewashed staircase, even though she knew it was immature. What a jerk. She was feeling fragile as it was, what with all the goings-on, and the lack of sleep. She could really have used a big bear hug from Xavier right then, but she knew she needed to steel herself to confront Gianna. The image consultant certainly had a motive, but did she have the means?
As soon as India tapped on the door, Gianna called out, “Who is it?”
“It’s India Kirby, here for the catering payment.”
“Oh, yes, well, come in.”
Her tone was friendly, which surprised India. She’d expected hostility, and a check scribbled at the door. Getting information would be like extracting teeth, she had expected.
But when she entered the room, Gianna gave her a warm smile, and wiped a couple tears from her eyes.
“Sorry about the way I look,” she said. “I didn’t bother with mascara today, or I’d have two black streaks down my face.”
“I understand,” India said. “And you look lovely.”
And Gianna really did look lovely. She wore a loose fitting chiffon playsuit in a gorgeous teal, with gold embellishments adorning the hems. Her red waves were twisted up into a bun, with just a couple of curling tendrils let loose at the front. Even without a scrap of makeup, and dark circles under her eyes, she looked like a beautiful plus size fashion model.
“They wouldn’t let our chef come in today,” she said apologetically, nodding at the plate of fruit and pastries on the side table as if it were a terrible meal. “Not the healthiest, I know, but you can have some if you want. Oh, and please take a seat.”
She gestured toward a pair of elegant navy armchairs. The room was as stylish as Gianna was, in a slick color scheme of deep navy, bronze, polished dark wood, and an almost-white cream.
Gianna smiled sadly. “You match the armchair, babe.”
As she took a seat, India looked down to see her starry dress perfectly matched the upholstery. “I do, don’t I?” But babe? Why was she being so friendly? Maybe she’d cottoned on that India was here to investigate, and she wanted to stay on her good side? Or perhaps it was her way of coping with grief? Either way, it felt strange.
Gianna stood by the open window, looking out over the sea. She let out a long sigh.
India sensed she’d talk.
“So sad about Onyx,” India said.
“Yes. Erica and I had our disagreements, but I always wanted the best for her. She was a good girl, at heart. Tragic.”
“Absolutely. I just can’t work out who would want to kill her.”
“I’ve been thinking about that all night. I barely got any sleep.”
India took a strawberry from the breakfast plate. “Did you come up with anything?”
Gianna looked back at India, as if she were trying to judge whether confiding in her was safe. She then turned back out to the sea. “Not really.”
> Interesting. If she was the murderer, wouldn’t she try and pin it on someone else? India wondered.
Gianna sighed again. “She was terrified about her comeback. Excited, too, I think, but terrified. I’m not sure it was the best idea, to be truthful. You know, the concerts.”
“Why was she terrified?”
“Well… wouldn’t you be? Even though her career in the late 90s was short-lived, it was dazzlingly successful. Every teeny bopper in the world knew all the words to Dreamboat Boy. And though she fell out of the spotlight, her career was textbook. For a popstar. What if her new concerts ruined that? Destroyed her image?”
“But why would they?”
Gianna puffed out a breath. “You’re young and beautiful, so you wouldn’t understand. She was getting older. She didn’t have that youthful energy anymore. Her figure wasn’t the same, and she couldn’t pull off those stupid pinky pink outfits she used to wear. To be honest, her singing voice got scratchy as well. I mean, we were all doing what we could to make it work, but I think we all knew it wasn’t going to. Erica most of all.”
India thought for a moment. “Why didn’t she just cancel the concerts?”
“Too much pride,” Gianna said quickly. “Erica won’t give up for anything. I mean, why do you think she’s still chasing a music career over 15 years after she flopped out of the biz?”
“You know what she’s been doing in the meantime?”
Gianna laughed, bitterly, but not unkindly. “Wasting endless time and money in the studio with Mark, trying to create an album that doesn’t suck. Why he still believed in her is beyond me.”
India ate a piece of watermelon, and thought of how horrible the man had just been to her, a perfect stranger. “I hate to ask this, but do you think Mark could have killed her?”
“I don’t know. I’ve thought about it.”
“Would he stand to gain financially from her death?”
“Quite possibly,” said Gianna. “She has no family. But then I don’t know much about the financial arrangements at all. I know she was broke, which is why she was doing these concerts in the first place. To pay off tax bills and have some left over.”