Dying to be Married: The India Kirby Witch Mystery (Book 2)

by Sarah Kelly

  Xavier was clearly not happy.

  “Follow the car!” Harry hollered. “You gotta catch them!”

  Xavier threw the gearstick into reverse. “We’re gonna talk about this,” he said to India, annoyed. “But for now, let’s go catch these scumbags.” With a flick of a switch, the siren started screaming, and he swung the patrol car out of the parking lot. Soon they zipped through traffic down the street. The Chevy was just about still in sight, but they could lose it at any moment.

  Cars were pulling up left and right to let them through. A couple drivers were slow in getting out the way, and Xavier honked the horn with a firm fist. When India glanced over at him, his face was set in seriousness and focus. She looked back to the street, hoping against hope they’d manage to catch the Chevy.

  “Look, they just made a left!” India said, craning her neck to watch as the vehicle ran a red light and swung into a side street.

  Xavier kicked the gas a little harder until they reached the intersection. After a quick look right and left, he took off through the red light and made the left swing.

  “What?” Xavier said. “Where are they?”

  As they came into the street, they saw there were no moving cars, only vehicles parked up against the kerb, and none of them were old beat up Chevys.

  “What the heck?” India said.

  They’d disappeared so fast. The next intersection was a good while away. They wouldn’t have had time to get that far and turn before Xavier had swung the patrol car into the street. The only other turnings were tiny.

  “They wouldn’t have gone into one of those alleyways, do you think?” India asked.

  Xavier frowned. He’d brought the vehicle to a stop in the middle of the street, but the light had since turned green and now other cars poured in. He began to cruise. “I wouldn’t think so. They’d only do that if they were desperate.”

  It was like they’d disappeared into thin air.

  “Hey, stop,” India said a moment later, looking at an alleyway to her right. “There it is.”

  Xavier pulled the cop car up to block the alleyway, then pulled out his service pistol. “Stay in the car,” he said. “Please, India, they might be dangerous.”

  India was brave, but not foolish. If these young men were armed, and had just killed Katriane, there was a good chance they’d want to shoot their way out of there. “All right,” she said. “I won’t move.”

  But as Xavier hollered at the car, then edged closer to it, his gun pointed, India began to suspect what was coming. And sure enough, when he reached the driver’s seat, he straightened up and shrugged at her. The car was empty. The young men were probably long gone, having taken off sprinting.

  India opened the door and got out. “Aw, man.”

  “Aha, there’s a revolver here,” Xavier said, leaning into the car. “In the glovebox. Looks like we’ve found our murder weapon.”

  “But who are these guys?” India asked. “Why would they want to kill Katriane?”

  Xavier shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  India dreaded to think what Aleister’s response would be to all this. The police department hadn’t taken his request seriously, evidently, or more squad cars would have been sent to man the wedding. He might sue. However, given the look of stress on Xavier’s face, she thought that moment might not be the best time to mention it.

  “Well, we’ve got the registration plate,” he said. “The first thing I’ll do is run that.” He nodded toward the revolver. “And check this thing for prints and DNA.”

  India put her hand on her hip. “But wait a minute. Why would they even leave the gun? That doesn’t make any sense. Surely they’d want to take it with them?”

  “Who knows?” Xavier said. “Maybe they got spooked. Or forgot it.”

  India frowned. Already her mind was doubling over on itself with questions. And soon the realization hit her: I’m in the middle of a mystery again.

  CHAPTER 3

  “We will not be leaving Benton Point until the perpetrators of this evil and despicable act are brought to justice,” Aleister said into the cameras, Cecelia crying into his shoulder. “And—” His voice caught in his throat, and his blue eyes welled up with tears.

  The beach was now cordoned off. India had been relieved from her post and called to the parking lot, where the police, witnesses, family and reporters all gathered. She felt tears pool on her own lashes as she watched him. “Poor man,” she whispered under her breath. Will and Harry stood behind, their faces grim.

  “And… Katriane’s memory is put to rest,” Aleister continued croakily. “That will be all.” He then turned away.

  A swathe of reporters thrust their microphones up to his back, but Xavier stepped up and spread his arms wide. “No further questions to the victim’s family,” he said. “All we can confirm is there are two suspects we are currently trying to locate.” He’d sent Curtis back to the station with the gun and car registration details. “Please leave now. This is a crime scene. Thank you.”

  Aleister’s phone buzzed and he handed it directly to Cecelia without looking at it. He then dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief.

  Cecelia tapped the smartphone then held it to her ear. “Hello?... Daddy, it’s church. They want to come out here.”

  “Oh,” he said in anguish, then reached out for the phone. “Yes?... Thank you very much for your condolences… Honestly, there’s no need to come out here… I’m holding onto the Lord… We’ll be back soon, with justice served for Katriane.” His voice began to tighten again, threatening to dissolve into a squeak. “Pray for us. That’s all we need.”

  Detective Kimble barreled through the scene, his usual insensitive self. His rounded body was pumped with nervous energy, and his voice was sharp and coarse. “Right. I want everyone on the terrace. He looked down at a scribbled list. That’s Ke… Kesilia…”

  “Cecelia,” she corrected, furious.

  “Yes, you. Aleister. The groom. The bodyguard. The minister.”

  “He left, I’m afraid,” India said.

  “Bradford, get the minister back,” Kimble barked. “Plus you,” he said, pointing at India. “All on the terrace. Plus Amy Dawson and every last member of the serving staff.”

  “I’m dreadfully hungry,” Cecelia said.

  It looked like she had recovered remarkably from her crying fit. Perhaps it was all for the benefit of the cameras, India thought. There was certainly some strange dynamic between the sisters. And… Cecelia had been out of sight during the shooting. India’s mind began to wonder before she could stop it. Was it really a possibility she could have shot her own sister? And why? If it was out of pure hatred, it would more likely be a crime of passion, with a stabbing, or strangling. A gunshot, and a silenced one, at that, seemed rather cold for such a crime. Still, maybe there was more to it than India knew about.

  “How can you think of your stomach at a time like this?” Will said, furious. “Your sister’s just been murdered.”

  The hate in their eyes as they stared each other down let India know there was no love lost between them, either.

  “That doesn’t stop the body needing what it needs,” Cecelia said. “The world hasn’t stopped revolving, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Kimble pointed down the path toward the terrace. “Go, now. Bradford, go to the kitchen and see to it that the servers remain in there, except to serve food to any of the witnesses who want any. I shall take up an office in the complex, and you’ll come and see me one by one. If anyone leaves, they will be immediately arrested, is that clear?”

  Aleister’s phone buzzed again as they made their way to the terrace. He took a quick glance at it then rejected the call. “The whole of Florida’s ringing to give their condolences,” he said, then his voice cracked again. “But I just don’t want to hear it.”

  An unexpected thing happened then. Will put his arm around Aleister’s shoulder and led him to the terrace. Aleister didn’t pull away, and for a mom
ent there they looked like father and son.

  The large dark wood terrace was still decorated with wedding bunting, which made the whole thing even more heart wrenching. To think, only a couple of hours ago, Katriane’s future had seemed so bright with hope and happiness. India wanted to rush around and take it all down, but didn’t want to interfere, so she took a seat in one of the elaborate wrought iron chairs and kept herself to herself.

  Harry stood in a far corner and held onto the terrace railing, looking out over the sea, while Will sat down and held his head in his hands. Aleister took a seat near the entrance but fidgeted terribly. Cecelia was like a cold, beautiful statue. Like an ice queen sitting on her throne, a few feet away from her father. No one spoke.

  When Amy came in a little while later with some of the servers, India felt so sorry for her. After all, she had so been looking forward to meeting her glossy mag heroines, and now the whole thing had taken such a tragic turn. This story would no doubt be splashed all over the internet already, and with the evening print run soon coming, it would be front page news. Even with axing the camera crews from their lives and jacking up security, this famous family not been able to avert tragedy.

  “Detective Kimble wants to see Cecelia Hooper-Walcott first, please,” a junior officer said. “In the meeting complex.”

  Cecelia stalked out, more pissed off than sad, as far as India could tell.

  As Amy laid out the food on the table, India came up to her. “This sucks, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Amy said, then wrapped her arms around India’s neck. When she pulled away from the hug, her eyes were wet. “I’m just gonna sit over there for a while.” She picked up a bowl of peaches and cream and headed into a secluded corner behind some potted palms. Ever since kindergarten back in Wisconsin, Amy had hated anyone to see her cry, even India. India wanted to follow, but knew better – her friend needed her own space.

  India had thought her appetite would evaporate into thin air, but seeing the food she suddenly felt ravenous. She took a plate of smoked salmon, French loaf and an elaborately arranged salad back to her seat, and tried to eat slowly enough to make sure she did not look disrespectful.

  Harry the bodyguard was rather near her, and he turned after a while and came over. “Is the food good?” His voice was businesslike, and so devoid of emotion it made India look up at him in surprise.

  “Yes,” she said. “It is.”

  He gave her a tight smile, then headed over to the table to collect his own plate. When he returned, he sat in the chair next to her. His leg shook up and down and he couldn’t seem to stop it.

  “This is horrible,” he said, his voice flat. “Just horrible. What a terrible thing.”

  India glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye. His jaw wobbled slightly, too. Maybe he was just using a flat voice to try to keep himself under control? Or maybe his emotions were so strong they’d shut themselves down, and his body was reacting instead?

  “Have you known Katriane long?” India asked gently.

  “Many years, but I was not her personal guard until a year ago,” he said. “That was when the threats started.” A long silence followed, then, “I was very fond of her. Those boys…”

  “Do you think they were connected with the threats?”

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  India nodded. “I saw you speaking with them earlier on, when they were in the parking lot.”

  He froze, looking down at his food. India saw a flash of panic in his eyes for a moment, but he hid it well afterward. “Yes,” he said. “They… I saw them hanging around yesterday, so I asked them to come back this morning.”

  India knew it was bad manners, but scooped out the inside of her French bread. She liked to separate the crust from the doughy center. “Why?”

  Harry glanced over at Aleister for a moment, looking worried. “I can’t tell you.”

  “I think you should,” India said. “Right now it looks pretty bad. You know, you speaking to the killers that morning. Someone might think you put in a hit.”

  “Oh god, you’re right,” he said. His voice had slipped out of the dull, flat tone. Nervousness shook all the words in his throat. “And, anyway… I think I’m going to quit, so what does it matter?... Well, the boys, they looked tough, so I thought they’d be good people to have in the parking lot. Scare off anyone who might want to harm Katriane.”

  How bitterly ironic.

  “But why recruit strangers?” India said, skeptical. It sounded a strange thing to do.

  “I was desperate,” he whispered. “Aleister’s put this whole thing on my back, but won’t employ any more security staff. He could pay for a whole army of bodyguards if he wanted, but won’t part with his money.”

  India frowned. There was definitely something weird about that. Wanting to protect your daughter, but not willing to pay out whatever it took? Strange.

  “Anyways I paid them $200 each to just drive the car into the parking lot and sit there,” Harry said, talking quickly. “They weren’t supposed to even get out of the car. I made a huge mistake. Oh god, I made a huge, huge mistake.”

  He looked like he was about to wail, so India patted him on the back quite hard, to bring him back to his body, then changed the subject. “Does anyone stand to inherit? Will Tremblay?”

  “Why?” Harry asked, astonished.

  India shrugged. “No reason, just wondering. Good to know these things.” She was beginning to have doubts that these two boys acted alone. Something wasn’t quite adding up.

  He looked at her with suspicion in his eyes. “I think so,” he said eventually. “I know before she got married it would have gone to her charitable fund, but since she was married I guess it was to her husband.”

  India glanced over at Will. He was staring into space, and hadn’t made a move toward the food at the table. Had he committed murder just to get his hands on his wife’s money? More to the point, did she have any? Even though Aleister Hooper-Walcott was a tycoon, there was no guarantee he’d handed any of it down, especially as he was tight with money.

  “He’s a good guy, though,” Harry said. “And he has a decent salary as a children’s fiction editor, I think. That’s how he and Katriane met, you know. She was his client. He shopped her books to publishers.”

  “Oh right.”

  “He didn’t ever strike me as a money hungry guy, like he was always giving to charity and stuff, but who knows? I suppose people can put on an act.”

  “Indeed,” India said, looking at him. Anyone could be putting on an act. And it was in that moment she knew, with a rush of realization, that she wasn’t going to stop until she solved the case.

  CHAPTER 4

  Xavier crashed down on India’s couch. “What a day.”

  “I know, right?” India gathered the takeaway menus from the special drawer where she kept them. “Now, what will take your sorrows away? Chinese, Indian, Frankie’s pizza, Thai, Jamaican?”

  “Ah, Jamaican sounds like heaven right about now,” he said. “I could do with some hot hot jerk chicken and rice, plus fried dumplings and plantain and saltfish fritters. That’s what I need right now.”

  “Whoah. Well, since my belly feels emptier than empty, maybe I’ll just make that a double order, and we can be fat together.”

  Xavier grinned, and switched the TV to the jazz music station they always put on when they chilled out at India’s. “Sounds perfect.”

  She dialed in their order and sunk down next to him. “You know it’s like something to 11 right now?”

  Xavier sighed. “I don’t care what time it is, I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “Find anything out in the interviews?”

  “Nah, Kimble told me to stand outside,” he said, then looked down at himself. “Can I get a robe or something, In? I really feel like getting out of this uniform.”

  “Sure.” India went to get it for him, and soon he looked much more comfortable in her white robe. It contrasted with his ebony ski
n, making its tone look richer and darker. He was a handsome man in general, but when he was tired, his eyes took on this look that India thought was adorable. She leant over and kissed him on the cheek. “Hopefully the rest of your day won’t be so horrible.”

  He looked back at her, his dark eyes warm and intimate. “Let’s hope so. Anyway, how are you faring, Indie?”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” India said. “And I checked with Amy, she’s all right. It’s sad, of course, that Katriane died, but…”

  Xavier rolled his eyes in a playful way. “But you’re super excited to solve the case.”

  “Bingo.”

  He pulled her closer to him on the couch. Her bare arm was up against his robe, and it felt so soft and comforting. “Well, I say go for it, babe. I’ll be doing as much as I can without stepping on Kimble’s toes. You know since you solved the last case, he’s been making digs at me saying how you’d be a much better cop than me.”

  “How horrible.”

  “I mean, you would be a kick-ass detective,” he said, “but he’s just saying it to demean me, you know? Not that I care, I mean, he’s not the one to promote me. I just don’t want him to block me when that promotion looms.”

  India snuggled into him. “Let’s hope it’s soon.” The idea that had popped into her head during the last case – Xavier and India teaming up as private investigators to fight crime – jumped into her mind again. But she shook it out just as quickly – how could they solve mysteries together when she couldn’t tell him about her powers? Or about Luis?

  “I sure wish it would be,” Xavier said. “I joined the force to make a difference, not to slap people with traffic tickets.”

  India stroked his arm. “I know,” she said. “And you will. Sometimes it just takes time.”

  “Yeah,” Xavier said with a smile. “Even when you wish it wouldn’t.”

  “Absolutely.”

  They sank into a comfortable silence while the jazz music bubbled up all around them. India ended up with her head on Xavier’s knee, and felt like she was in heaven when he began to stroke her hair. He had the gentlest touch, running his fingertips against her scalp, and then smoothing her dark chocolate hair away from her face. She almost drifted off to sleep, but then the doorbell jolted her awake.