A Drop of Magic (A Sugarcomb Lake Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Alaine Allister

  It wasn’t a lot to work with, but it was enough.

  Clarissa sat down with a cup of tea, a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a phone book. Then she flipped through the yellow pages and began calling every gym in Green City. It was tedious, but necessary. At least the tea and cookies made the task more enjoyable!

  After calling five gyms without success, Clarissa struck gold.

  “We do have a regular who drives a yellow convertible,” the gym employee who answered the phone said. Then he hesitated. “I’m really not supposed to give client information out. What is this about?”

  “I saw him drive out of the parking lot the other day when I was, uh…going to my spin class!” Clarissa fibbed. That was laughable. She had never in her life been to a spin class! But it sounded convincing…she hoped.

  “Uh huh,” the man on the other end murmured, apparently listening intently.

  “The trunk of his car was open,” Clarissa continued, thinking fast. “When he turned the corner something fell out. It was um…it was a piece of antique furniture! I mean, it looks antique. It looks expensive. I tried to flag him down but he didn’t see me, so I took it home with me.”

  “You did?”

  “I just want to make sure the antique furniture gets back to its rightful owner.”

  “What was it?” the gym employee asked curiously.

  “What was what?”

  “What kind of antique furniture are we talking about?”

  “Pardon?” she asked, caught off guard.

  “What kind of furniture is it?”

  “Um, does that matter?” she asked.

  “I’m just curious,” the gym employee replied. “It’s kind of slow here today. So…?”

  Clarissa hadn’t been expecting to be questioned on the specifics. She scrambled to come up with an answer. “It was er…uh…” she stuttered before trailing off awkwardly. She was drawing a blank. Oh no, she had to think of something fast or her cover would be blown!

  “Are you still there?” the man asked.

  “Yes! It was a loveseat!” she blurted out, saying the first thing that popped into her head. Apparently she had romance on the brain.

  There was dead silence on the other end of the phone. Then the very confused-sounding gym employee remarked, “I didn’t know it was possible to fit a loveseat in the trunk of a sports car. That seems weird.”

  Crap.

  “Did I say loveseat?” Clarissa asked, backtracking as fast as she could. “That’s so silly! Sometimes I do this thing where I say one word but mean another! I meant lamp! Yes, that’s right. Lamp, not loveseat! An antique lamp fell out of the yellow convertible’s trunk.”

  “And it survived?”

  “Oh yes,” Clarissa assured the world’s nosiest gym employee. “The lamp was very well-packed in bubble wrap. That makes me think it must be very important to the man who lost it! If you could just tell me how to get in touch with him, I’d love to return it to him!”

  “I don’t know…”

  “He must be so upset, thinking it’s gone forever!”

  “Okay,” the young man relented. “His name is Brad Jenner. My boss would kill me if I gave out his phone number or home address, but I’m pretty sure he’s a bartender at that place over on Willow Street. You know the one?”

  “I’ll figure it out,” Clarissa assured him. “Thanks so much!”

  She hung up the phone, her heart pounding from the stress of having to fib on the spot. She really was a terrible liar. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. All she knew was she was headed to the bar on Willow Street in search of a man named Brad Jenner.

  ***

  It was Clarissa’s lucky day. When she pulled up to the bar on Willow Street, she immediately noticed the yellow convertible in the parking lot. She parked her car and practically ran inside, eager to bring a killer to justice.

  She recognized Brad Jenner right away. He was the only guy in the joint who looked like a Greek god reincarnated! Heck, she could practically count his abs through his snug-fitting t-shirt. How was it even possible to have a body like that?

  Clarissa made a beeline for the bar and took a seat.

  “What can I get you?” Brad asked when he noticed her sitting there.

  “Um…club soda, please.”

  As she watched Brad get her drink, Clarissa racked her brain. How was she going to go about this? She didn’t think standing up on the bar, pointing at Brad and screaming “murderer!” was the way to go. No, she should try a more subtle approach.

  Thankfully Clarissa was from a small town.

  That meant she knew how to strike up a conversation.

  “I hear there’s rain in the forecast,” she told Brad when he brought her the club soda.

  “Oh.”

  Obviously he didn’t care. And why would he? Talking about the weather was boring. It was something people did with alarming frequency when they couldn’t think of anything else to say, sure…but it was still boring. And it certainly wasn’t going to get Brad to open up.

  “Have I seen you before?” Clarissa asked, pretending like she was struggling to place him.

  Brad looked at her cautiously. That was when she realized he probably thought she was hitting on him. Oops. Maybe she had taken too subtle of an approach! She quickly backtracked. The last thing she needed was her feigned curiosity to come across as a cheesy pickup line!

  “Oh, I know!” Clarissa exclaimed. “You go to that gym over on Broad Street, don’t you?”

  “Sure do!” Brad said enthusiastically, instantly lighting up. “You go there too?”

  “Oh yeah, I go to that gym all the time” Clarissa fibbed. “I practically live there! I mean, if I didn’t then I wouldn’t have this killer body,” she joked, gesturing to her not-so-toned, less-than-svelte figure.

  She had been trying to break the ice with that self-deprecating comment.

  She had hoped Brad would laugh, warm up to her and want to continue talking. But instead he just looked puzzled. Clearly his sarcasm detector wasn’t working. Ah well. Not everyone could be blessed with good looks and brains.

  “Look,” Clarissa said, deciding to take a less gentle approach. “I know you’re dating Daphne.”

  “Oh yeah, she’s cool,” Brad replied, apparently unfazed. “How do you know her?”

  “I don’t. My aunt worked with her husband,” Clarissa said, emphasizing the last word. She was hoping that by doing so, she would elicit some sort of reaction. Depending on how Brad responded, maybe she would be able to get a read on him.

  Brad didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable. Actually, he seemed quite friendly and personable. “They weren’t together,” he offered. “I wouldn’t date someone who was married. Well, I mean technically Daphne was still married, but it wasn’t like that.”

  “What was it like?” Clarissa asked, encouraged that Brad seemed so willing to talk.

  “Daphne said her husband had been fooling around with other women for years,” Brad confided. “At first she turned a blind eye to it. She’d go shopping and hang out poolside with her dog. He’d have his affairs. It worked, for a while.”

  “Then what happened?” A normal person would balk at being asked such personal questions by a stranger, but the unassuming muscular young man behind the bar seemed fine with it.

  Brad shrugged. “Daphne got sick of living a lie. She told me that as time went on her husband was less and less discreet. She said people were starting to talk and it was embarrassing. Eventually she got fed up and kicked him out.”

  “When did you meet her?”

  “A few months ago, I think.” Brad scratched his head. “Maybe it was six months ago?”

  “How did you meet her?”

  “She came in here one night a few weeks after she kicked her husband out,” Brad recalled. “She was playing pool and having a great time. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Then she noticed me staring and came over. She asked to feel my biceps and, well…we’ve
been seeing each other ever since,” he grinned.

  “How romantic,” Clarissa deadpanned.

  Again, she got no reaction from Brad. He really had no concept of sarcasm whatsoever!

  “She’s a cougar,” Brad announced matter-of-factly.

  “Uh, pardon?”

  “A cougar,” he said again. “It’s an older woman who likes younger men.”

  “I…see. How old are you, exactly?”

  “Twenty-three next week,” he replied. “Want to know something funny?”

  “What?”

  “When you first started talking to me, I assumed you were a cougar,” Brad chuckled.

  Clarissa stared at him blankly as his words sunk in. Then she picked her jaw up off the floor and tried to muster up whatever dignity she had left. “Did – did you just call me an older woman?” she demanded.

  “Yeah,” Brad grinned, completely oblivious.

  “Ouch,” Clarissa winced. Then, brushing her own insecurities aside, she asked, “Brad, did you ever meet Daphne’s husband?” Maybe she was grasping at straws, but she wanted to find out if there had been bad blood between the two men in Daphne’s life.

  “Nah,” he replied.

  “Did he know about you?”

  “I think so? Maybe…I dunno,” Brad shrugged. “Daphne and I never talked about him much. She mostly talks about her dog,” he said with a sigh. “But like, she’s hot so it’s okay I guess. She’s making me throw the dog a birthday party next month. Is that weird? I think it’s weird.”

  “It…it’s kind of weird,” Clarissa agreed, wondering how the conversation had taken such an unexpected turn. In an attempt to get it back on track, she said, “Brad, speaking of weird, I have a kind of strange question for you.”

  “You can touch them,” he said at once.

  “Huh?”

  “My biceps…you can touch them if you want,” he said, flexing his muscles.

  “I…no, I don’t want.” Clarissa cleared her throat. Then she put forth the million dollar question. “Where were you the first Friday of this month?” With any luck, Brad wouldn’t have an alibi for the night Miles died.

  “I was here,” Brad replied immediately.

  She blinked. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I work every Friday night,” he said. “The tips are better on weekends.”

  “You’re positive you were here the whole night?”

  “No doubt about it. Why are you asking me?”

  “Oh, no reason…I just uh…I thought I saw you at the gym that night.”

  “Ah,” Brad nodded. “Well it must have been someone else.”

  Clarissa gulped down what was left of her club soda. Then she threw some money on the counter. “I should be going,” she said, pushing her stool back from the bar. “It was nice meeting you, Brad.”

  “Yeah you too,” he replied. “Maybe I’ll see you around the gym sometime.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  Chapter 18

  “On the road again,” Clarissa sighed.

  Driving was so boring, and she was sick of all her music. Even the embarrassing tunes she usually loved to warble along with weren’t doing it for her anymore. When she had gone through her entire playlist so many times she had it memorized, it was a sure sign she had been spending too much time driving.

  Clarissa was making the now-familiar trek from Sugarcomb Lake to Green City.

  It was getting dark out, but it didn’t matter. She practically knew the route by heart now. And she was talking to herself. That was just great. Maybe all the time she had spent alone in her car was starting to make her lose her mind!

  When she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, she was sure of it.

  That confirmed it. She was officially losing her mind.

  The reporter ran her hand through her long, dark hair and tried to focus. She glanced in the rear view mirror nervously. She had an uneasy feeling she was being watched. But of course, that was impossible…wasn’t it?

  Clarissa shrugged it off and turned her attention back to the road.

  Suddenly a furry black creature launched itself from the backseat of the car. It seemed to come out of nowhere! For a second, it was airborne. Then it landed right beside Clarissa, smack dab on the front passenger seat.

  Clarissa screamed.

  Then she instinctively jerked the steering wheel. It was a dangerous thing to do. In fact, she nearly veered right off the road. Cars honked at Clarissa as she slammed on the brakes without warning. Thankfully, nobody rear-ended her.

  Heart pounding, Clarissa pulled onto the side of the road to try to regain her composure. Once she could breathe somewhat normally again, she turned her attention to the intruder who had nearly caused an accident.

  “How did you get in here?” Clarissa demanded.

  “Meow,” replied Cat.

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Clarissa could only laugh. “You jump out at me from the shadows on a regular basis, and just last week you left a dead mouse by the back door. You’re determined to give me a heart attack, aren’t you?” she asked the little troublemaker.

  The cat was completely unfazed. Clarissa was in a near-panic after her close call, but not her whiskered companion. Cat was calm, cool and collected. Actually, Cat appeared to be ready to have a nap right there on the front passenger seat of the car.

  “Oh no, you don’t get to sleep,” Clarissa said. “Not after you nearly caused a collision! The least you can do is help me collect my thoughts. You’re pretty much the worst sidekick ever. I mean, all you do is sun yourself and demand to be fed. But you’ll have to do.”

  If Clarissa didn’t know better, she could have sworn the cat was glaring at her.

  “I was so sure I knew who killed Miles Connor. But now I’m pretty much back at square one,” Clarissa confessed. “Daphne’s boyfriend has an alibi. He was at work the night Miles died, so it couldn’t have been him.”

  The cat yawned, looking completely annoyed.

  “I’m a hundred percent sure Hannah couldn’t have thrown Miles off the rooftop. She would have had to physically lift him up over that cement barrier and throw him to make him to land the way he did. There’s no way she has the build for that.”

  Now the cat was completely ignoring Clarissa.

  Oh well.

  She kept right on talking anyway.

  “I didn’t think Nancy Donoghue had the build to throw Miles from the roof, either. She’s not tiny like Hannah…quite the opposite, really. Not to be rude, but she’s pretty overweight. I assumed Nancy wouldn’t be in good enough shape to overpower Miles.”

  The cat stood up, stretched and walked around in a circle. Then it settled down, looking sleepy.

  “I was so sure the killer was a big, strong man. Do you think I could have been wrong?”

  The cat continued to act as though Clarissa didn’t even exist. Typical!

  “A person can be overweight and still have impressive upper body strength,” Clarissa mused. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss Nancy. What do you think, Cat?”

  The question was met by silence.

  “I mean, Nancy had a relationship with Miles. They dated and then ended things, so there could definitely be bad blood there. And Nancy acted nervous and defensive when I started asking questions. That’s weird, right? What if she is the killer?”

  The cat was snoring lightly now.

  “The bottom line is I’ve ruled out Daphne, her boyfriend and Hannah…but I just don’t have enough information about Nancy yet. That’s why I’m headed to the university,” Clarissa said, raising her voice in an attempt to wake her uninvited passenger.

  Clarissa stared at the cat expectantly.

  It wasn’t as though she expected an answer or anything. But would it really hurt the furry little beast to just crack an eye open and look at her? It would have been nice just to know she had been heard.

  But of course, that was asking too much.

  The cat�
��s snoring was growing louder.

  “Okay, fine,” Clarissa relented. “You sleep, I’ll drive.”

  Truthfully, Clarissa didn’t know what she was hoping to find at the university. Talking to Nancy Donoghue probably wasn’t going to get her very far – she seemed very tight-lipped. But maybe her office would be unlocked…

  “That’s your big brilliant plan?” Clarissa asked herself incredulously. “You’re hoping you can sneak into Nancy’s office, snoop around a bit and something incriminating will magically fall into your lap? That’s so lame!”

  Unfortunately, Clarissa didn’t have any better ideas.

  To make matters worse, when she drove by Nancy’s office, the lights were still on.

  “She hasn’t gone home for the night yet?” Clarissa whispered in disbelief. “Ugh!” She parked her car and then looked down at her half-awake companion. “You and I might be in for a long wait,” she cautioned.

  She opened her car door. Immediately, the cat scrambled over her lap and out of the car.

  “Hey!” Clarissa hissed. “Get back here!”

  It was laughable that she still tried to tell the cat what to do. It should have become apparent ages ago that the little beast never, ever listened. Wasn’t repeating the same action expecting different results the very definition of insanity?

  Yep, the cat was going to drive Clarissa insane. Or maybe it already had.

  “Don’t go too far!” Clarissa ordered as the cat sauntered purposefully across the parking lot. “If I can’t find you when I’m ready to go home, I’m going to leave you here!” she threatened. Then she thought about what she had just said. “On second thought, go as far as you like. Shoo!”

  After exiting her car, Clarissa tiptoed back to the building that housed Nancy Donoghue’s office. The tiptoeing was completely unnecessary. She just as easily could have walked like a normal person. But she didn’t.

  She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to creep around in such an exaggerated, goofy manner. It simply seemed like the thing to do. Perhaps she had watched too many Saturday morning cartoons over the years.

  Clarissa made her way inside and went over to the elevator.

  Then she saw the sign that was posted on it.

  “Out of order?” she grumbled. “Are you kidding me?”