Dramatic Paws (Kitten Witch Cozy Mystery Series Book 1)

by Corrine Winters

  She nodded. “Sure. I’ll do my best.”

  He scoffed slightly, not believing a word of it.

  “You know what would be a big help, is if you handed over that bottle you were talking about. The one you didn’t recognize that Lyndsy served the victims from.”

  “I wish I could,” Ember said. “I asked Lyndsy to find it earlier and she said it must have been thrown away the night it was emptied, before we found out about any of the deaths.”

  “Lyndsy said that?”

  “I double-checked her, of course. I’ve been looking all evening and never found it again.”

  He heaved a sigh. “If it’s in the landfill already then that’s a shame.” He stood back from the bar, slapping both palms gently against it as he rose. “All right. I’d best be heading out. You keep an eye open, okay? Not just the bottle but anything you think might be of help.”

  “Sure thing, Sheriff.”

  “Just keep in mind.” He pointed to himself. “Me, law enforcement. You.” He pointed to her now. “Witness. Okay? I don’t want to catch you--or that cat of yours--poking your whiskers in where it might cause harm. Got it?”

  “Got it,” she said.

  It wasn’t a lie, not exactly.

  She wasn’t planning to cause any harm, anyway.

  When he finally left her alone to her jambalaya, she dug in gratefully, happy at least to reflect that he’d had the tact to refer to her as a witness instead of a suspect.

  Thirteen

  After Cedric left, Ember managed to feed herself and keep herself busy checking in on the few customers she had, bringing them fresh drinks and carrying around the ever-famous dessert tray to tempt them into picking up a slice of cheesecake or a generously powdered beignet. They all claimed to be stuffed, but once they got a close look at the goodies on offer, they relented.

  That was always the way. The desserts at the Broken Broom were legendary, and had always been Ember’s most reliable sellers.

  Sage came in just as Ember was wiping off the now-emptied dessert tray. “Clean sweep?” she asked, visibly trying not to look disappointed. Sometimes, if there were any desserts left at the end of the night, Ember would split one with Sage.

  Of course, it was pretty rare that there were ever any left at the end of the night, so Sage ought to have known better than to get her hopes up.

  “Sorry about that,” Ember said. “Listen, I’ve got to make money somehow. It certainly won’t come from pulling drinks, not with a crowd like this.”

  Sage looked around the pub with a grim expression. “Well, it’s a weeknight,” she offered.

  It was kind of her to try to come up with an excuse, so Ember knew better than to point out that even for a weeknight this was a dismal showing.

  As if to emphasize the point, the last two remaining tables were both simultaneously poring over their tabs, digging out cash to cover their bill and a tip. One rose to leave, waving a good-bye to Ember and Sage, and the other followed a couple of seconds later.

  Ember sighed, and Sage frowned sympathetically at her. “That’s the dinner crowd,” she said. “People might still come in just for drinks.”

  Her optimistic tone was appreciated, but more than slightly undermined by the fact that her voice practically echoed around the now-empty pub. Ember picked up a rag to go and wipe down the tables, herself half-hoping Sage was right and there would soon be a late-night rush.

  Just then, Ember noticed how Sage was dressed. Not in her customary blouse, jeans, and boots, but in a deep blood red dress that clung tight up top and swished down below.

  Sage noticed Ember noticing and grinned. “You like it?” She did a half twirl so that the skirt would flare out, fluttering around her knees. Leaning over the bar, Ember saw that Sage was wearing little scarlet pumps.

  Sage always looked lovely, of course, but Ember rarely saw her put any effort into it. Even her hair was half pinned-up into an elegant-looking little twist of a bun, the rest of it hanging lovely, dark, and loose down and over her shoulders.

  “You look like a million bucks,” Ember said honestly, rounding the bar. Now that the place was empty, Kali came trotting out from her hiding place in the office, following Ember and Sage as they walked over to the recently abandoned tables.

  “Do you have a date, Sage?” Kali asked, curious.

  “Actually, yeah.” Sage was smiling a small, excited smile. “We’re going for drinks in half an hour.”

  “What, here?” Ember asked.

  “Uh, sorry, no,” Sage said with a chuckle. “We’re going someplace out of town. I want to support the Broken Broom and everything, but I’d rather not have my best friend breathing down the guy’s neck for a first date. That’s, like, date four material.”

  “I wouldn’t breathe down his neck,” Ember objected. “I support my friend’s autonomy.”

  “And I support Sage’s decision to keep the poor man from the inevitable stink-eye and third-degree treatment when the relationship is so new,” Kali piped up. Then, when Ember tried to defend herself, Kali licked one paw imperiously and cut her off, saying, “You would and you know it.”

  “Can’t I even win an argument in my own establishment?” Ember grumbled. Then, to Sage, she said as warmly as she could manage, “I’m happy for you. I hope he’s worth the effort.”

  “You know, you should get out more,” Sage said slyly.

  “Out more?” Ember spread her arms, gesturing to the room around them. “Who’s out more than I am? I’m at the pub literally every night.”

  “Oh, come on, that doesn’t count,” Sage chided.

  “It’s not exactly social hour for you here,” Kali agreed. “Sage could even help you find a date. Couldn’t you, Sage?”

  Sage nodded excitedly. “I mean, the pickings here are a little slim, but they’ll be lining up once they know you’re on the market! And we could double date. Wouldn’t that be fun? Movies, bowling, dinner, hiking, maybe a boat ride… oh, I’m getting all excited just thinking about it.”

  Ember felt suddenly irritable at the turn the conversation had taken. “No, no. I don’t need any of that. I’m doing perfectly fine here, thank you very much.”

  The denial was too sudden and severe. Sage, suspicious, cut a curious look to Kali, whose whiskers twitched in a particularly smug manner.

  “It’s because she has a thing for Sheriff Jamison,” Kali said to Sage in a stage whisper. “She’s just too chicken to mention it.”

  “Do not!” Ember cried, scandalized.

  Another too-severe denial. Sage and Kali both crowed with delight.

  “You’re still carrying a torch for Cedric?” Sage squealed gleefully. “I mean, not that I can’t understand. The man is gorgeous!”

  “He’s perfectly acceptable,” Kali agreed, “as far as humans go. I don’t even find his canine qualities overly abhorrent.”

  “I’ve got nothing at all to do with the Sheriff,” Ember said tersely, hoping the pub lighting was dimmed low enough that her friends couldn’t see the deep blush rising high on her cheeks. “Except, of course, for the fact that I’m being actively investigated for a quadruple murder.”

  “Yes, well, there’s that,” Kali conceded.

  “Any excuse to hang around,” Sage said through giggles, and that got Kali laughing too.

  They’re no help at all, Ember thought as she gathered up the bills from her two tables and folded the money into her apron pocket. Still, she couldn’t help but feel endlessly fond of them both.

  Fourteen

  Ember locked up the bar half an hour early, giving up hope that some late-surge party would come in and order a multitude of profitable drinks. After switching off the OPEN sign Ember sat at the bar and went over that day’s numbers.

  Kali was noisily bathing herself on the stool, to all appearances not paying any attention to Ember at all but rather focusing fastidiously on the tufty fur of her belly.

  A slow headache was building behind Ember’s eyes, and she found i
t difficult to maintain focus on the columns in front of her. Maybe because they were telling her something she didn’t want to hear.

  The Broken Broom had made barely enough money tonight to pay Lydnsy’s hourly wage, even taking into consideration the fact that she’d skipped out several hours early. It was clear that the tarring brush of suspicion was severely impacting their customer base. Who knew how long that would last?

  All Ember knew was that they couldn’t handle many more nights like tonight.

  She’d worked so hard to turn the Broken Broom into what it was. Was this business with Laura and the others really all it took to take her livelihood away from her forever?

  She had to do something about this, make sure the case was settled quickly, before irreparable damage was done. All right, so Cedric had warned her to keep her nose out of it. But he’d also said she should keep her eyes open.

  Didn’t those sound like mutually exclusive pieces of advice?

  “You’re thinking of doing something reckless,” Kali said, barely breaking her rigorous bathing rhythm.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You’re lying.” She stopped licking herself then, straightening up and looking Ember head-on. “‘He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot, will be victorious.’”

  That one was Sun Tzu, Ember knew. Kali liked quoting that one to Ember when she thought Ember was about to be impatient and foolish.

  “I’m not going to do anything dangerous,” she said. “I’m just going to swing by Lyndsy’s place for a spell.”

  Lyndsy lived at her mother’s house, in a particularly fertile, swampy area right outside of Cauchemar. Her mother’s garden grew belladonna in a lush thicket right alongside a variety of herbs and creepers. All Ember had to do was sneak a peek to see if the plants had any signs that they had been messed with.

  If she saw that they did, she would tip Cedric and the Sheriff’s Department off to it, then step away. It wasn’t like she intended to be actively involved.

  As she drove up toward Lyndsy’s house, she realized that she couldn’t see Lyndsy’s car parked up front. There was just a plain tan station wagon that Ember assumed must have belonged to Lyndsy’s mother.

  “That’s strange,” Kali said. “I thought Lyndsy told you she wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go home.”

  “That is what she told me,” Ember replied. Of course, it would hardly be the first time an employee had faked sick to skip work. But in the middle of a murder investigation, when said employee was a prime suspect in the case?

  That was a little more suspicious.

  “Hold tight,” Ember said in an undertone to Kali, switching off her car and headlights and taking her phone. The camera was pretty good, and she thought she should be able to get a shot of the belladonna plants even in the darkness.

  However, she hadn’t taken three steps toward the garden when the porch light switched on. Ember startled, looking up to see Lyndsy’s mother, dressed in curlers and a nightgown, staring out at her.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, slow and clearly on guard.

  “Hi,” Ember said, as brightly as she could. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Ember McNair, Lyndsy’s boss at the Broken Broom.”

  Lyndsy’s mother was silent, watching.

  Ember’s heart rate felt like it doubled in her chest. Continuing to force a faux-friendly tone, she said, “I was just coming out to check on Lyndsy. She left work early tonight, said she had a bad headache, so I figured she came back here. Then I didn’t see her car and, uh, I didn’t want to risk knocking and waking the house up if it turned out she wasn’t even here. So I thought I’d check the back shed first, see if her car was parked in there.”

  Lyndsy’s mother didn’t speak for a long moment, and for a panicked second Ember worried she was going to head in and call the cops, tell them some girl was snooping around her property late at night. Wouldn’t that look great for her if Cedric found out that she’d been trespassing in someone else’s belladonna-growing garden? She wondered if he’d believe her when she told him what she was really up to.

  Finally, Lyndsy’s mother said, “I’ll be sure to pass your concern on to Lyndsy.”

  It wasn’t an admission that Lyndsy was in the house. Neither was it an admission that she wasn’t there.

  It was a dismissal. Plain and simple.

  “Great,” Ember said, smiling and waving as she stepped backward toward her car. “Thanks so much. You have a good rest of your night.”

  Then she climbed in the car. Kali, illuminated in the cab light, was giving her a That went well look.

  “Oh, stop,” Ember griped good-naturedly as she started up the car and backed out of the drive. “I didn’t get shot and I didn’t get the cops called on me. Considering this is Louisiana, I think that means I did pretty well.”

  “We’ll come back later on, when Lyndsy’s mother is asleep,” Kali offered.

  “Obviously.” Ember wasn’t about to let go of this. Getting her eyes on those plants would help her to figure out if Lyndsy could be the killer, or if Ember should be leaning toward someone else.

  She’d just have to be a little sneakier if she was going to be successful in securing this crucial clue.

  Fifteen

  Ember and Kali killed an hour or two back at home, watching a documentary on the Carthaginian general Hannibal--Kali’s pick--and selecting the next week’s specials menus for the pub. It was hard to pay much attention to either when they both knew they’d be heading back out to Lyndsy’s property for espionage again, but they each did a fair job of pretending that this was just a normal wind-down after a normal evening’s work.

  Eventually, Kali said, “I think Lyndsy’s mother is probably asleep by now.”

  “I’m just praying she’s not a night owl,” Ember said, already springing to her feet and pulling a black-colored hoodie out of her front closet.

  This time, when they reached the property, Ember didn’t pull all the way down their drive. As soon as she turned off the main road, she killed the engine and the lights so that the car wouldn’t be visible from the house.

  “Very John La Carré,” Kali remarked approvingly.

  “Thank you,” Ember said. “You want to come along this time?”

  “Yes, please.”

  So Kali leapt over the console and followed Ember out through the driver’s side door. She was so excited to be included that she didn’t even complain about the slightly squishy, marshy ground underfoot, although Ember knew she’d make a point of fussing over her dirty paws later on.

  Ember shut the door as quietly as she could. Even so, the noise echoed through the nearby trees.

  “Which way is the garden again?” Kali asked.

  “Back around the side of the house,” Ember answered in a low whisper. “Here, follow me.”

  It was exceptionally difficult going. She didn’t want them walking on the drive, because then she knew they would be visible from the house if the porch lights came on again. So it was best to stick off to the side.

  The only problem was that “off to the side” was a thickly forested area, full of tangling undergrowth and wet, boggy patches of earth. The Spanish moss hung in thick swags down from low branches, grappling around Ember’s neck and in her hair as she did her best to lead the way.

  Of course, Kali was having a much easier time. Her small, four-footed body was made for terrain like this. Before long, she was the one leading the way, deftly slipping through little thickets and shrubberies and then pausing to wait for Ember to catch up.

  “I bet you wish you were as small as me right about now,” Kali said supremely as Ember held back a thorny vine that she had managed to catch just before it flicked her in the face.

  “I am small,” Ember objected. “For a human. What I really wish is that I could switch on my phone flashlight. This is so much more difficult in the dark.”

  “They’d see you from the house,” Kali said unnecessarily.

&nbs
p; “I know,” Ember muttered. Or, at least, she tried to mutter it. Actually, just as she opened her mouth to speak, she tripped over a large branch and fell sideways against a nearby tree-trunk, skinning her palm against the bark.

  “Are you all right?” Kali asked, sounding concerned, racing up to Ember’s feet.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Ember insisted. “Just irritated.”

  The rest of the way was similarly difficult, and, to make matters worse, just as they were finally approaching the garden Ember stepped and half-fell into a very wet patch of swamp mud. Since they were now so close to the house, she had to bite down on her tongue to keep from crying out, and now she was covered in mud and bleeding faintly.

  “This detecting work is a lot dirtier than it looks on television,” she hissed.

  “Come on,” Kali called after her softly. “The belladonna. It’s right here.”

  Ember joined Kali in the garden. Since they were around the side of the house and no longer at the mercy of the wide front windows, Ember calculated it would be safer to use the light now. Besides, it was so dark, she would have to have a little illumination if she was going to see those plants, which was the whole reason she was out here at all.

  Faced away from the house, hoping to block the glow with her body, Ember took out a bright penlight and shined it onto the plants. The belladonna looked eerie, its wide delicate leaves and its small purple flowers appearing almost sinister in the sudden, stark light.

  The nearest belladonna plants were near the garden and the dry ground, but the majority of them trailed out into the marsh, and would have been essentially inaccessible to anyone not outfitted for a traipse through the mud. The nearby plants looked untouched, intact and full of ripe berries.

  “It doesn’t look like anything was plucked off of these plants,” Ember said. She snapped a handful of photos on her phone, just in case there was something she was missing now, spooked and trespassing in the middle of the night. She’d be able to check out the pictures in greater detail later.