by Tegan Maher
I was right. When we got there, Rachael, the girl who worked the front desk, smiled when we walked in.
"Hey, ladies," she said, her brown eyes lighting up. "What are you two doin' on this side of town? Not that I'm complainin'."
I held up the basket. "Just bringin' some muffins to the conference folks. We figure it's good business for Brew4U."
She adopted a knowing expression. "Here to get dirt, huh? Trust me—you won't find a shortage. That woman was not well liked. I don't think I've met hardly anybody who had a single nice thing to say about her."
"Really?" Rae said. "That's unusual. Some people are a little controversial, but they usually have their cliques."
"She did," Rachael replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned a little closer. "They have the standard mean-girl group, and she was apparently a gold-star member. I was here when she checked in, and two other equally hateful women met her in the lobby. I swear, if I was a witch like you, I'da gave them warts."
She slapped a hand over her mouth and tried to walk the statement back. She wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed and had a tendency to just open her mouth and let whatever was in her brain fall right out, unfiltered. She had no idea I was a real witch, but speculation had gone on forever about my family. Some folks chose to believe it, some chose not to, and the rest really didn't care one way or the other. Obviously, Rachael fell into the first group.
She was younger than me but older than Shelby, so neither one of us had gone to school with her. We just knew her from around town, since her mama ran the local laundromat.
"I'm so sorry," she rushed to say, her round face scarlet. "I don't know what got into me. Sometimes I just ..."
We smiled and waved her off. That was far from the first time it had happened to us, and we'd just learned to deal with it by neither confirming nor denying. That way, nobody would be lightin' any bonfires, but they wouldn't mess around our property either, just in case.
"Anyway," she said, motioning toward the conference room, "go on in. There are already folks in there drinkin' coffee and shootin' the breeze, so now's your chance."
Sure enough, when we poked our heads into the doorway, several small clusters of people were scattered throughout the room. Rather than just set the muffins on the table, we figured it would be better to walk the basket around the room and offer them individually. Maybe we'd find a good opening.
The chance came even quicker than we could have hoped. The first group we approached, three middle-aged women and a man, were already talking about it.
"Personally, I can't believe it's taken this long for somebody to kill her," one of the women said.
"Me either," said another, giving me a brief smile and nod as she plucked a muffin out of the basket with two bony fingers tipped in long burgundy nails. "Though it's perfectly suiting how they did it, seeing as how she spent her whole life stabbing people in the back."
That got my attention. The woman seemed to have a real ax to grind.
"Did you know her?" I asked, and all three of them appeared startled that the wait staff knew how to talk. “Sorry," I said. "It's just, Keyhole Lake's small, and the murder is the talk of the town."
The man nodded, and I was surprised to find his expression warm. "I'm from Eagle Gap, so I know exactly what you mean. Had this happened there, it would be the same way."
Miss bony fingers raked her gaze over me. "I suppose you know the woman who killed her, then."
I gritted my teeth to keep from saying something I'd regret as the urge to defend Coralee jumped to the forefront. Rae nudged me with her elbow and I zipped my lip.
"I wasn't aware they'd made an arrest," she said.
The woman flapped her hand, the light flashing off all the rocks on her fingers. "Whatever. The woman who allegedly killed her."
In the interest of completing our mission, I forced a smile. "I can't imagine why Coralee would want to kill her. Other than the exchange in the salon, I don't think they've even spoken in a couple decades. Surely there's somebody in Lorraine's current life that would be a more likely suspect."
The man nodded. "You're right, of course. The woman was horrible. I work with lots of people from Atlanta who are looking to get out of the rat race and move to a smaller town, and also younger people looking for just the opposite—to get closer to Atlanta, where they have better job opportunities." His face clouded over. "It seemed I couldn't make a move without running into her. There were even a couple of times that I showed up to a showing up there only to have her show up too. She'd led the clients to believe they needed local representation. She outright stole my commission both times."
"Oh wow," I said. "Did she do that frequently?"
A second woman, one who looked much kinder than the first, nodded. "She did. Just last week, Leighann Cooly was all set to close on a two-million-dollar listing. The commission from that would have been right around a hundred-twenty grand, and it was her listing, so she wouldn't have had to split it. Bless her heart, she's on the verge of losing everything and her mama's been sick on top of it. She'd busted her hump on that house, and at the last minute, Loretta came in and snatched it away from her. Leighann still got half, but by rights, the whole shebang should have been hers."
Rae and I exchanged a glance. People had killed for a whole lot less than that.
"The third woman, the one who hadn't spoken yet, leaned in. "And you're never gonna guess what I heard this mornin'," she whispered, then gave us all time to move in close enough to hear.
"What?" Bony Fingers whispered, her eyes big.
"Before she was a realtor, Leighann was a hairdresser." The woman gave a conspiratorial nod—the one practiced by every gossiper who swears they're speakin' the gospel.
"And is this Leighann here this week?"
The guy nodded and motioned with his head. "That's her, right over there in the yellow sweater."
I tried to act casual as I glanced in the direction he indicated. The only person in yellow was another middle-aged woman with huge hair, wearing enough makeup that she probably kept L'Oreal in business.
Rae pulled back the basket of muffins and pasted a smile on her face. "You all have a great day, and be sure to come see us at Brew4U, my coffee shop. We're located right on Main Street. You can't miss us."
We barely heard the thank yous as we beat as hasty a beeline as possible without being too obvious toward Ms. Leighann Cooly, the proud new owner of the top spot on our suspect list.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
WE WERE ALMOST BACK to the farm when Shelby texted me to ask if I could swing by Wills to pick up some blankets and food he was donating to the local animal shelter. She'd been going to do it that evening but needed to study for mid-terms. I was proud of the way she was digging in, so after okaying it with Rae, I made a detour back.
Will's truck wasn't there when I arrived, but there was a beater Chevy SUV parked off to the side where employees usually parked. There were also a couple other cars in the patient parking area.
"Oh boy," I said to Rae. "The receptionist Shelby's been talking about is here."
Rae raised her brows. "Surely she can't be as bad as Shel lets on."
"I'd think not, or else she wouldn't be able to walk and chew gum at the same time," I replied. I was with Rae—Shelby had to have exaggerated at least a little. Maybe the girl had just had a hard time adapting.
When we walked in, the place was chaos. Mrs. Abernathy was trying to hold Peaches, her Rottweiler, away from Mrs. Nelson's cats, who were thankfully ensconced in a cat carrier. From the amount of hissing and yowling coming from the box, it was a good thing for Peaches, but I wasn't so sure how they were faring against each other. Another lady was holding a chinchilla that was trying desperately to climb her like a tree to stay out of the line of fire. All three women were doing their best to control their animals and maintain polite smiles, but at that point, they were almost grimaces. The receptionist was sitting in her little area, hidden
behind a separating wall, filing paperwork and wearing noise-canceling headphones.
I rang the bell on the counter, but she continued to work without so much as glancing up. Rae pulled in a breath and let it out. I tapped it again, this time with a little more force. The front door chimed and a gust of cold air rushed in, accompanied by a baying coonhound. The poor owner looked for a place to move to, but there really wasn't anywhere left to go. He looked at me helplessly and I held up my finger.
"Mrs. Aberanthy," I yelled over the din, "Come with me. We'll get you in a room." Will had four patient rooms, and I checked the closest one, just a few feet from the reception area. Sure enough, the table was gleaming and a box of gloves was sitting on the stainless steel exam table, Will's sign that the area had been disinfected and was ready or the next patient. I opened the door wide and she pulled a still-barking Peaches along behind her and gave me a grateful glance, followed by a glower toward the clueless receptionist, who hadn't even noticed me yet.
I took a quick peek into the other exam rooms and was glad to see they were all clean, too. Raeann picked up Mrs. Nelson's cat carrier and lugged it to the second room, and I got chinchilla lady into the third. The minute everybody was out of sight, the coon hound quieted down and the man was able to sign in on the log. I told him we'd be right with him. I didn't want to fill up the fourth room in case an emergency came in.
The receptionist had looked up over her horn-rimmed hipster glasses and stood, pulling down the hem of her sunflower-yellow retro-70s mini skirt. She pulled off her headphones and tottered toward me in too-high platform boots.
"Excuse me," she said in that snotty way only kids who thought they had some power could pull off. "May I ask who you are? You can't just come back here."
"Yes," I snapped, irritated that she even thought to get huffy when I'd just pulled the office back from the brink of disaster. "I can. Somebody had to." I felt a little bad for being snippy, but come on. Noise-canceling headphones when the place was about to fall down around her ears?
She flapped her mouth open and shut a few times, then examined me closer, looking suspicious. "Are you related to Shelby?"
"Yes. I'm her older sister, Noelle, and this is our cousin Raeann," I said, wondering if she was ditzy or just didn't care about the job. "We're here to pick up a donation Will's making to the animal shelter."
"Animal shelter?" she echoed, her face blank.
Rae rolled her eyes. "Oh for Pete's sake. Is Will here?"
The girl tilted her head, and I couldn't figure out if she was deciding to get smart or if she just didn't understand the question. "I think so. He was a little bit ago. Maybe he's in the back. I know somebody brought a sick dog in a little bit ago, and he said something about starting an IV and keeping it overnight."
I gritted my teeth and did my best to smile. "Well can you tell him we're here?"
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked. "I don't want to bother him if you don't. He's very busy."
Rather than deal run the risk of choking her, I just pulled out my cell and scrolled through until I found Will's name.
"Hey, Noe," he said when he picked up. "Shelby said you were coming to pick up the blankets and food. Thanks. Normally I like taking it myself, but I'm slammed today. I just stepped out back to the hospital to get a dog settled in."
"Yeah," I said, my voice wry. "I'm up front. I put Peaches in room one, Mrs. Nelson and her cats in room two, and some lady with a freaked-out chinchilla in room three. There's a guy here with a coon hound in the waiting room."
"Thanks," he said, "but isn't Ali up there?"
So her name was Ali. "She is, but it was easier to just call you."
He sighed, and I could picture him running his hand through his hair. "She seemed so nice and trainable when I interviewed her. I'm not sure how she pulled it off, but for now, at least somebody's up front until I can find somebody more suited to the job."
"Barely," I said.
"I know. I thought I'd give her a couple weeks to settle in. See if she'd work out. Apparently, that's not going to be the case."
"I think that's a safe bet," I replied. "Where are the blankets and food? You keep doing what you're doing—we can get them."
"The blankets are in the storage room, but the food's still on the shelf." He rattled off what he wanted me to take. "You said you put everybody in rooms?"
"Yeah, except for the hound." I glanced at Ali, who was chewing her lip, not sure what to do.
"Can you tell everybody I'll be up in fifteen minutes or so?" he asked.
"Sure thing, sugar," I said, feeling bad for him. "Do you want us to hang around 'til you get back up here? Do you need any help back there?"
"No, I'm good back here, and I don't have any appointments other than the ones who are already up there. Thanks a ton."
"No problem," I said, grabbing the keys to the storage room from a hook under the counter. Rae and I made a couple trips back and forth, then closed up the room and let the patients know Will would be a few minutes.
Ali had returned to her seat and was transferring something from a sheet in front of her into the computer. She glanced up at us on our way past, and Rae pointed toward the headphones. "Leave those off," she said. "Will's counting on you, and you need to be able to hear if something goes wrong."
"But I can't focus without them," she whined, glancing between them and us.
"Try," I said, brow raised. "Hearing is more important than filing."
I shook my head on the way out.
"Now I see why Shelby's so worried," Rae said.
"I know." I twisted the key in the ignition and kicked on the heater. An idea struck, and I turned to her, a smile spreading across my face. "Good thing we just happen to know somebody who's smart, loves animals, and is looking for a job."
Her eyes lit when she caught on to what I was saying.
"Gabi! Noelle, you're brilliant—she'd be perfect!"
"I know," I replied. "Though I don't know if Will can pay enough to match what she's making now."
Rae waved a hand. "Details."
I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I was almost positive they could work something out, and I knew she'd rather do that than keep working for Jerkface. One problem down. Now if only we could solve Coralee's so easily.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
WE SMILED AS WE APPROACHED, and Rae held out the basket. "Would any of you care for a muffin? Baked fresh, courtesy of Brew4U."
Leighann was closest to us and smiled. "Oooh. I was there yesterday morning for coffee. I had the Loca Mocha, and I swear I had energy 'til noon and didn't even have the caffeine crash afterward." She plucked a blueberry muffin from the mix. "I also had the most amazing turnover. Whoever runs that place should hang onto the pastry chef."
I smiled. "You happen to be looking at us. Raeann here is the owner and makes the coffee blends, and I'm Noelle. I do the baking."
The other two women she was talking to reached out and took a muffin, too.
"You ladies make a fine team," one of them said. "We've actually decided to add you to our list of attractions for the next time we have a conference down here."
"Yeah," the third woman, a chunky little girl in her early twenties said. "We've been there every morning since we've been here. Though it was so slammed the morning after Loretta bit the big one that we couldn't get a table."
We weren't going to get a better segue than that, and I took it. "Yeah, people tend to gather when there's a tragedy like that." I watched Leighann's face, but she was either good or honest. Considering she was the next logical inhabitant of Coralee's cell, I wasn't willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.
"Yes," she said with the proper level of regret. "It was a real tragedy what happened to her."
The other two women looked at her like she'd lost her mind, and the younger one snorted. "Yeah, a real tragedy." She lowered her brows in disbelief. "Are you kidding me, Lee? She took you for sixty grand, and you were just the latest on
the list. That wasn't a tragedy—it was Karma."
Now her response is the one I'd have expected from somebody who'd lost that kind of cash to Loretta, so the fact that Leighann wasn't sent my bullshit meter into the red zone.
"Sure, I couldn't stand her," she said, peeling the paper from her muffin, "but I didn't wish her dead."
The third woman raised a penciled-in brow. "I'm not ashamed to say I had, on more than one occasion. She never got me directly, but I hate people who pull the crap she did. There's such a thing as professional integrity, and she didn't have so much as an ounce of it in her body. I say she got what was coming to her. I just hope that poor hairdresser doesn't go down for it. There are way too many people with more motive than she had, and I, for one, don't think she did it."
I liked her. She spoke her mind, but more importantly, she was the first one I'd heard say they didn't think Coralee was guilty. I held out my hand. "It's nice of you to say that. We know she didn't do it, but we're afraid she's going to go to jail for it anyway if they can't find a better suspect."
The shorter woman huffed and waved a hand toward the room. "There are a hundred people at this conference, and Loretta probably put the screws to at least half of them at one point or another. As far as I'm concerned, that's fifty people with more motive than your friend."
Considering I was standing next to the ideal suspect, I didn't want to put too fine a point on it by asking for names, but I couldn't help but notice that Leighann didn't make eye contact and didn't contribute anything to the conversation. I glanced at Rae, who nodded.
"Ladies, enjoy your conference and it was nice talking to you. Come down and see us again before you leave."
Miss Pencil Brows nodded and smiled, her hazel eyes warm. "Count on it. And we'll be back at the end of July for the summer conference, so put us on the calendar."
We went around the room, distributing muffins and listening for clues, but people were either regurgitating info we already had or weren't talking about it at all. We emptied the rest of the muffins onto an empty platter on a table and made our way back to the truck.