The meeting ended on that note, and Harper got up to leave. Before she left the office, Inslee surprised her when he said, “I made some calls about you to some contacts I have in New York. You were a pretty big deal up there.”
Harper just looked at him and didn’t confirm or deny.
Inslee went on, “If you want to succeed here in Little Rock, you’re going to have to make sure you get in with the right group of people. I can help you. Make sure you have the right connections. After this case is over, I’ll take you to dinner.”
It wasn’t a question. Harper felt her temper rising again. She hated presumptive men. Before turning her back on Inslee and leaving his office, Harper said, “I know how to make my way with the people I want to surround myself with. I survived in Manhattan. I don’t think a small city like Little Rock will be a problem for me.”
Chapter Twelve
“We’ve got trouble brewing, I can feel it in my bones,” Hattie cautioned her assistant Beatrix, who was a new addition to the shop. Hattie had known she was going to need extra time to teach Harper the way of the Ryan women and how to use her gifts properly. To have that time available, she’d need someone to help her – someone who knew what they were doing.
Beatrix was twenty and originally from New Orleans. She was a sturdy girl, thick-hipped, broad-shouldered with full round face. She had long hair that had been dyed a shocking red, a drastic change from her natural chestnut mane. She was attractive and wholesome but quietly powerful. Beatrix was the kind of girl that could be the best friend you ever had or your worst enemy if she was crossed. Hattie loved that about her. In a lot of ways, she reminded Hattie of herself when she was younger.
Beatrix had worked in her mother’s Voodoo shop in the French Quarter in New Orleans. She had her own magical skill set that complemented Hattie’s needs perfectly. While Hattie was not a practitioner of Voodoo, the magical arts she practiced were not all that different. Beatrix was still an apprentice, but in other ways, she was far beyond her years.
The two worked together easily and naturally at Hattie’s Cauldron: Potions and Pastries, which was wedged between a boutique dress store and a high-end hair salon on Kavanaugh Boulevard, smack in the middle of Hattie’s Heights neighborhood. The shop had floor to ceiling shelves of loose tea and herbs in jars on the wall behind the display case that held freshly made pastries with a coffee station at the end. Ensuring that the shop was more than just a place to make a purchase, Hattie had couches and tables strategically placed to let customers get comfortable and take some time to relax. There were also tables with candles and essential oils for sale.
Beatrix was listening to Hattie while she refilled glass bowls of various gemstones that were great for meditation, among other uses. The bowls were lined up next to each other on three shelves that covered the back wall of the shop. Along with each gemstone, there was a small card in front that explained the stone’s purpose and how best to use it.
Along the back wall was also a red velvet-draped doorway that led to where the real magic happened. Behind the drape, in addition to the industrial kitchen in the far back, Hattie had a comfortable room that held most of her supplies for the occasional potion she created. Most required herbs and essential oils from the front of the shop and additional supplies Hattie kept in the back.
There was also a small room with a couch, a comfortable chair and a table where Hattie did her special readings. She occasionally used her Celtic Tarot cards that had been passed down through the generations, but mostly, Hattie could take the hands of her clients or an object or photo and tap into the situation or person.
“Did you hear me?” Hattie called over her shoulder to Beatrix. They were the only two in the shop before the midmorning coffee rush.
“Yes, I did,” Beatrix responded, still dropping new gemstones in the bowls. She had tackled the pink quartz and then moved on to the emerald stones. “I’ve been feeling it for a few days, too, but wasn’t sure where the feeling was coming from. I thought maybe because my mom was angry that I didn’t make it home for Mardi Gras. With school, there was no way.”
Beatrix had even skipped the Saints & Sinners Ball to work on a paper she had for her psychology class. She was a second-year student at the University of Arkansas in Little Rock.
“I felt it before the ball,” Hattie admitted. She ran a hand down her bright purple caftan and adjusted the belt that showed off her ample curves. “It’s more than just Tucker Reese’s murder. There’s the jewelry thefts of our guests last night. All the good, positive energy this neighborhood normally has is off. I’ve never felt this way in Little Rock, but after speaking with Matthew Inslee, I’m afraid that man is going to be trouble for us.”
“Does he have any real power?” Beatrix asked. She wrapped up refilling the gemstones and made her way behind the counter where Hattie was standing. She started making a fresh pot of coffee.
“He’s a prosecutor so he has a good deal of power in the courtroom. Not sure about his connections on running us out of here.”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” Beatrix asked with a worried look on her face. She brushed her red hair away from her eyes.
“For the first time, yes, I am,” Hattie admitted, arranging pastries in the display case. They always had a bit of a rush in the early afternoon right after lunch, and today, Hattie wasn’t quite prepared.
“Maybe we should do a protection spell tonight,” Beatrix offered. “We could do one here at the shop and one at your house. My mom has a really powerful one I can ask her about.”
Hattie thought for a moment. “Yes, let’s do that. I just don’t trust the man at all.”
The two were interrupted by a voice coming from the front door. “It’s never good when Hattie Beauregard doesn’t trust someone. Who is it now, Hattie?”
Hattie turned to see who had overheard their conversation.
Chapter Thirteen
“Oh Lottie, you’re here already!” Hattie exclaimed. She was relieved it hadn’t been someone else given what she and Beatrix had been discussing. Lottie was one of her best customers.
“I was just getting some snacks and coffee ready for you ladies. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Lottie was a petite woman, short gray hair and always wore bright red lipstick. Most women her age wouldn’t have been able to pull it off, but Lottie did with ease. She was a retired high school history teacher and close to Hattie’s sixty-seven years. Her husband had passed a few years prior. Lottie often regaled Hattie with the history of witches in the United States and Europe.
Lottie had a coffee klatch of ladies that she met with regularly at Hattie’s. They came to the shop to get their supplies of loose teas and discuss the local Heights gossip. They were women in the know about everyone and everything.
“The rest of the girls will be right along.” Lottie sat in her usual spot at the large rectangle table in the middle of the room. She turned back to Hattie and asked again, “So, who don’t you trust?”
“I’m sure you heard that Tucker Reese was murdered at the Saints & Sinners Ball. Matthew Inslee is interviewing my niece today. She found Tucker’s body. Inslee just makes my bones ache,” Hattie explained as she fixed the woman’s favorite blueberry tea. As the water was warming in the pot, Hattie sat down at the table with Lottie. “Do you know much about him?”
“I taught him tenth grade American history,” Lottie said. She waved her hand in the air as if brushing away a bad smell. “He was a terrible student. A bully and a know-it-all, who really didn’t know much.”
A few more of the ladies came in and joined Lottie at the table. They placed their coffee, tea and pastry orders with Beatrix who went to fix everything. When it was ready, Hattie helped her carry it all over to the table. As Hattie was setting down a small pot of tea, one of the women she didn’t know well said, “I heard Inslee has been unhappy with his job lately. He’s thinking about leaving for a criminal defense firm. I heard he wants more spotlight and more
money.”
Hattie sighed. “Sounds like him. He’s probably happy to get the Reese case then.”
Another woman, Judy, chimed in. She drawled, “Y’all, I don’t like to speak ill of the dead,” she paused for dramatic effect while the other women nodded their heads along, “but I heard that Lizzie, Tucker’s wife, was looking for a good divorce attorney because she was going to leave Tucker and take him for all he’s worth.”
“Well can you blame her?” Lottie asked rhetorically. “The man couldn’t keep it in his pants. He was drunk going way back. Judy, you went to school with Lizzie, didn’t you?”
“I did, and she came from such a good family. Her daddy was so upset when she married Tucker. It was her momma who calmed Lizzie’s daddy down and let the marriage go forward. She assured him that Lizzie could straighten Tucker out. She said he’d get over his wild ways once he was married.” Judy shook her head in disgust. “It’s been nothing but trouble for Lizzie since.”
“He had a girlfriend, right?” Lottie asked.
Judy nodded. “Some awful woman named Roxy. She was brash and tacky. I heard they split up though.”
Lottie leaned across the table and waved the other women in. She said barely above a whisper, “Do y’all think maybe Lizzie bumped him off?”
“Oh Lordy!” Judy exclaimed and clutched at her pearls. “What a scandal that would be!”
Hattie and Lottie exchanged a look.
“Stranger things have happened.” Lottie continued, “Maybe she hired someone. Or what about Lizzie’s brother. He’s always been in trouble. I heard he was in prison recently.”
“Drew wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Judy assured. “He was in for insurance fraud not anything violent.”
“Well maybe he didn’t pull the trigger, but having been in jail he certainly has connections to find someone who would,” Lottie offered. “Besides, how much does Lizzie stand to inherit with Tucker dead? She could never say no to her brother from what I hear.”
Hattie could tell all this got Judy thinking about her old friend.
Judy conceded, “Several million at least. Tucker had other businesses, and his family had oil money.” She looked around to each of the women and asked in a whisper, “You really think Drew would have had him killed?”
The woman all looked to one another, their eyes wide. A murmur of speculation went around the table. Then when they grew quiet, Judy asked, “Hattie, are you able with your cards to see who killed him?”
“Oh, I wish it worked like that,” Hattie responded. She took a seat next to Judy and explained. “I can get insight into state of mind. I can see deception, death and even danger. I can’t really see murder though.”
Judy patted her hand. “Too bad you aren’t one of those mediums who can talk to the dead. You could just give Tucker a holler and asked him directly who killed him.”
Hattie gave a weak smile. If only they knew, and if only it was that simple. She changed the subject quickly. “Did you hear about the burglaries last night? It was guests at the party. Apparently, there were five houses hit. This makes at least eleven in the last few months.”
“I don’t know what’s happening in this city,” Lottie lamented. “But then again, these women are practically advertising their millions in jewels, and then don’t properly lock up their homes. They think it’s still the 1950s.”
“My friends were robbed a few weeks back,” Judy confided. “They had been at a charity ball for the hospital. The thieves took more than two million in jewelry – diamond bracelets, necklaces, emerald pieces they had, all of it.”
“Did they have an alarm?” Lottie asked as she sipped more tea.
“No,” Judy said. “They live right here, on Country Club Road. They never thought this would happen. Luckily they have insurance to cover their loss.”
“They take anything else?” Lottie asked.
“That’s the funny thing,” Judy admitted, looking perplexed. “No, everything else was fine. They went right for the jewelry. None of the electronics. Even their gun cabinet went untouched.”
“Hopefully, the cops will catch them soon,” Hattie interjected. “They are probably selling them on the black market or whatever it is jewelry thieves do.”
The women around the table agreed and went back to talking about the latest gossip from the neighborhood.
Chapter Fourteen
“Would you wait up!” Jackson called after Harper who had stormed out of Inslee’s office. As Harper had passed by Jackson, who was sitting in the hallway outside, she had given him a look like she wanted to throttle someone. Then Harper bolted down the stairs and out of the courthouse. Harper was several feet ahead of Jackson walking back to his truck. It was really more of a sprint, and Jackson could barely keep up with her.
Harper turned abruptly and shouted to Jackson. “That man makes my skin crawl! I couldn’t stand looking at him for another second.”
“What’s happened?” Jackson asked as he finally caught up to her, a little out of breath.
Harper paced on the sidewalk. Her face was flushed and her hair had started to come out of the neatly arranged ponytail Harper had styled that morning. She looked to Jackson and said exasperated, “I’m not this fragile woman you all think I am. Let’s take care of Harper. We need to baby Harper. I’m a grown woman who worked with the FBI to take down my husband and a crime boss. I don’t need Inslee or anyone else to tell me how to get on and survive in Little Rock. I made it in New York City for heaven’s sake. I was the editor-in-chief of a prestigious magazine. I think I can handle it here.”
Jackson looked at her a bit dumbfounded. He reached for her and then took his hand back. He started to speak and then stopped himself. He watched her closely.
“Well,” she demanded. “Don’t you have anything to say? Are you just going to stand there and look at me like I’ve lost my mind?”
“No, I just…”
“Forget it, let’s go. I need lunch.” Then Harper turned and headed the few blocks down to Jackson’s truck.
Once they were both in the truck, Jackson looked at Harper and asked, “Do you want to talk about it now or at lunch?”
“Lunch,” Harper fumed. She sat there with her arms folded and stared straight ahead. She was hoping Jackson wouldn’t play the what do you want to eat game. She hoped he’d just make the decision.
Harper wasn’t disappointed. Jackson kept quiet. He didn’t press her to talk as he drove out of downtown and up Cantrell Road back into their Heights neighborhood. Jackson’s truck came to a stop on North Van Buren right in front of Cheers, a local restaurant. The patio was empty. Jackson looked at Harper and raised his eyebrows in a question. Harper got out of the truck as a reply.
Together they walked the few steps to Cheers and took a seat on the patio. The weather was warming up, and it was nice enough to sit outside. While a lot of people might be chilly, for Harper the sixty-degree weather felt like spring.
They placed their orders and sipped their drinks. Finally, Jackson asked cautiously, “You ready to talk about it?”
“Thanks for not pushing me before,” Harper said and meant it. She had needed time to think and process what she was feeling.
Jackson smiled at her in response and waited for her to continue.
“I don’t trust Inslee,” Harper admitted. “He seems out to get Hattie. He was saying how she was unfairly trying to railroad Fr. McNally.”
Jackson agreed. “I didn’t like that friendly handshake they shared as we were walking into the prosecutor’s office. If Fr. McNally didn’t do anything wrong, he didn’t do anything. I just don’t know how you determine that only twelve hours after the crime was committed.”
The waitress came and dropped off Harper’s chicken salad and Jackson’s burger. Harper forked her salad, taking a bite of chicken. “I know this didn’t technically happen on Hattie’s property, but I feel like we need to protect her. From what, I’m not sure, but I want to find out who did this.”
Jackson was mid-bite of his burger. He looked at Harper as he chewed. He took a drink and washed it down. “What do you mean ‘find out’? You can’t interfere in a police investigation.”
“I just want to dig around a little, nothing dangerous,” Harper assured him. Then she got serious. “I don’t know what Hattie told you, but what I said outside of the courthouse is true. I don’t need either of you to baby me.”
Jackson put his fork down. He looked at Harper and caught her eye. His gaze was intense and sincere. “Harper, I’m not babying you. You found a dead body last night. Anyone would be concerned about you. If someone wasn’t worried about you, they aren’t the kind of people you should keep in your life.”
Harper sighed. She sat back in her chair and rubbed her temples. “Since I arrived here in Little Rock, it feels like everyone is walking on eggshells around me. I’m not going to crack. Yeah, everything with my ex was terrible, but I got through it.”
“I don’t know how you got through it. Your aunt, especially, knows how strong you are. I see that, too. You have nothing to prove.”
Harper didn’t say anything for a few moments. She just watched him. She’d never met anyone like him before. Jackson didn’t seem to judge her for anything. She believed what he said. There was a familiarity about him she enjoyed. She hadn’t even known him a week, and she was comfortable with him already. That rarely, almost never, happened for her.
She took a drink of sweet tea. She looked over the top of her glass. “So, will you help me?”
“Help you do what exactly?” Jackson eyed her cautiously.
Harper shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I want to dig around a little and see what we can find out.”
Jackson wiped his mouth with his napkin and laid it back in his lap. “Do you really want to tangle with Det. Granger? He doesn’t look like someone whose toes I want to step on.”
Harper laughed. “Jackson, you’re a retired Army Colonel, and you’re afraid of a detective?”
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