“Or it could be that Florence drowned quite naturally,” Cora said. “Has that ever occurred to you?”
“Of course it has, but there are details that make no sense to me, but I suppose we’ll be able to look for clues at the barbecue tomorrow.”
Cora slowly pulled out of the drive, heading back to Lake Forest. Petunia wasn’t sure how much of case this was, but somebody had to have put Florence’s body in that pool. She just wouldn’t believe that Bonnie was involved.
* * *
When Petunia and Noah were dropped off, he invited her in to his home, but she declined. “I’m so exhausted, Noah.”
“So am I. I just hope we have better luck tomorrow at the Hopkins’ mansion.”
“Me, too. I’ll meet you at two, since the party is at three. I’m known to be extra early. It’s one of my faults.”
“Not a bad fault to have,” Noah said. “I like a dependable woman.”
“I’d just hate to ever be considered predictable.”
“Now that’s one thing you’ll never be, Petunia.” He laughed. “Since your grandfather wasn’t dropped off with us, I imagine he and Cora are hitting it off.”
“Don’t remind me, but I don’t know what he plans to do tomorrow. Someone is sure to recognize him.”
“Not to worry. I have a feeling your grandfather is quite resourceful.”
“I sure hope so. I think Aunt Maxine and her witchy friends will be there tomorrow.”
“How about we cool it with the witch references.”
“Aren’t you believing it just a little yet?”
“No. I’m not about to change my mind on how I feel about that, but I understand your need to believe that’s the case. I’m not about to believe in your delusions, though.”
Petunia wiggled her nose as a sneeze was building and since Noah was such an unbeliever, she just let the sneeze go. The only thing was that no bubbles appeared. She was so disappointed and she stomped her way inside, where she sneezed again and this time the bubble most certainly appeared.
What on earth! Oh, stop it, Petunia. Do you really need to prove to Noah that you’re a real witch? What possible good could that do?
Petunia was bombarded with cats, but this time she told them all, “You’ve all been fed for the day.”
The cats just sat there and looked up at her.
“You’re talking to deaf ears,” Pansy said. “Cats don’t understand no. They only understand that humans must obey their every command.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, but this is one human who is going to bed—without feeding her cats.”
Petunia went upstairs and slipped out of her clothes and ran warm water into her jet tub. When she finally sank into it, she enjoyed the pulse of the jets on her aching body. She was prone to feel a little sore every now and again. She had vowed to herself that she’d never use one of her potions on herself. Why, if they never worked quite right, how could she risk what might happen to her? Nope, she wasn’t brave enough to ever attempt that. She’d much rather help out other people who were in greater need.
* * *
Petunia woke up with a jerk at the sound of pebble being tossed at her bathroom window. She couldn’t believe that she had fallen asleep in the tub. She sprung from the water in record speed as she donned a robe. Only after she had pulled it tight around herself did she glance outside to see Cora, who waved at her. Since Cora was alone, Petunia wondered what she could possibly want.
Petunia made her way downstairs and opened the door to a flustered Cora, who practically ran inside.
“It’s about time, Petunia. I really need someone to talk to.”
“And you picked me, because …?”
“Look, I know how you are, a witch, many people say, but what I’d really like is a potion that would make a man fall in love with me. Like, before I get any older. I shared a few kisses with Simon, but I can’t help thinking that he’s leading me on.”
“Leading you on, why, exactly?”
“So I can get him into the barbecue so he can investigate.”
Petunia didn’t know what to say now, other than, “Love potions just don’t work.” She knew all too well not to get that involved in matters of the heart. All she could think about was that she didn’t want her grandfather to turn into a cat.
Cora’s shoulders dropped. “I wouldn’t expect you to help me. It’s not like I’ve made your life easier, but I really like Simon.”
For some reason, Petunia felt bad for Cora. Perhaps this was what she needed for Cora to truly leave her alone. She didn’t have to exactly whip up a love potion; she could just make something that Cora would believe was one. Yes, that was it.
“The problem is that I’m banned from whipping up potions in my home. Something to do with an ordinance.”
“I won’t tell, I swear.”
Petunia wasn’t so sure she could believe her, but what did she have to lose? “It will take me a little while.”
“That’s okay. I can wait.”
“Have a seat in the living room,” Petunia said, handing her the remote.
Pansy followed Petunia all the way into the kitchen, bellowing, “Are you out of your mind! Why would you even think about whipping up a potion for that woman? Don’t you see she’s trying to trick you?”
“I can’t say she is. She seems sincere.”
“And a love potion. I don’t want your grandfather as a cat. There’s already too many cats around here, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“How would I miss that? I have to feed you cats twenty times a day.”
“You’re exaggerating, Red.”
“And I’m not whipping up an actual love potion. I’m planning on using a placebo, like they do with those drugs to test if a person could actually believe that a medication works for them,” Petunia said, pulling out a pan and filling it with an inch of water, then following it up with sage, parsley, and a drop of vanilla. There’s no way that she’d be able to make something that would harm her grandfather, including a love potion. Certainly the ingredients she used wouldn’t do any harm. What could it hurt? Getting Cora off her back was all she could think about.
Pansy paced the whole time, venting his irritation of her doing this, but she ignored him as she brought the potion to a rolling boil and when ten minutes had passed, she poured it into a small vial with a cork top. She then waltzed into the living room, where Cora was glued to the tube, watching a real crime show.
“I’ve seen this one before and it’s a good one. He drowns his boss and moves his body to the swimming pool at the home of a local politician. It basically ruined the man’s life. No politician would be able to be elected when there’s a big scandal like possibly being a murder suspect.”
Petunia dropped to a chair, feeling her pulse race. “Where did he originally drown his victim?”
“In a lake, but since he put the victim into a swimming pool, they found out that there was no chlorine in his lungs. The police began to dig deeper and eventually cleared the politician.”
“I wonder if that’s what happened with Florence? I can’t imagine her ever being in the mansion. It would be the last place she should be.”
“And the mayor is running for re-election and someone must be trying to make sure he doesn’t win.” Cora bit down on a knuckle. “You don’t think Simon has something to do with this, do you?”
“No.” Petunia shook her head. “I just can’t believe he’d do something so desperate like that, even to win an election when it’s a year away.”
“Of course since this show has been on before, someone might have decided to do the same thing.”
“Is the swimming pool killer in prison now?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks. It looks like I’ll have to make a call to the sheriff and ask him to stop by. We have to share this revelation with him so that they check Florence’s lungs for signs of chlorine. We may have ourselves a copycat here in town.”
Petunia made a
call to the sheriff, who told her that he’d be right over. She then went into the kitchen and made tea, bringing out a cup for Cora.
“You know, Cora, if you hadn’t come over, we might never have had a solid lead. Of course we don’t know for sure if that’s what happened in Florence’s case.”
The image came across the screen and the man looked quite handsome and not like a killer at all, but then again, some don’t. The sound of brakes outside told Petunia that the sheriff was there. When she opened the door before the sheriff knocked, he said, “I hope this is important. I was sitting down for dinner. I’d hate to come back to a cold roast beef dinner for some wild accusation about someone that’s not Bonnie.”
“That’s just it, I don’t think she was involved, but I do hope the coroner checked Florence’s lungs for the presence of chlorine. Cora here was watching a show just like this case. A man was drowned and then his body was moved to the swimming pool of a politician.”
Petunia smiled smugly as the sheriff’s face became hard. He whipped out his cell and called the coroner. “Did you happen to check Florence’s lungs for the presence of chlorine? We have reason to believe that she died elsewhere.” More that a few minutes passed before the sheriff said, “I see. I know you’re probably trying to finalize the autopsy and draw up your final report, but I really need to know, now, actually.”
The sheriff cupped his hand over the mouthpiece of his phone. “He’s checking his findings.”
Petunia wrung her hands. She was very much interested in what the coroner had really found and she hoped that the sheriff would share the information with her.”
“I see,” the sheriff said, since obviously the coroner was back on the line. “Are you positive, because this really might be a turning point in the investigation.” He nodded at Petunia. “Thanks for taking the time to look.” He shoved his phone into his pocket.
“So, did she have chlorine in her lungs?”
“The only reason I’m telling you no is that you gave me the tip and I really appreciate it. I’m now wondering who would want to ruin the mayor’s chance in the next mayoral race, but since it’s a year away, I think we need to find out who planned to run against him.”
Petunia sighed as Cora said, “I know someone, but it’s not official yet.”
She wanted to give Cora an elbow in the gut, but decided not to.
“Who?”
“Simon, but I don’t think he could be involved on account of him being in the CIA.”
Petunia felt positively ill, now. Could it get any worse?
“And where will I be able to find this Simon?” Pinkerton asked.
Chapter Twelve
Petunia reluctantly led the way over to Noah’s house and knocked on the door. Grandfather answered with a wide smile, a wine glass clutched in one hand. “What are you doing here?” Before she had a chance to say anything, his eyes narrowed as he glanced at the sheriff. “Tell me you didn’t call the law on me, Petunia.”
“I didn’t, I swear. We’re here on another matter.”
Noah ushered everyone inside, and asked, “What’s this all about? We were just going to start a game of poker.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Pinkerton said. “Exactly what did you mean by, ‘another matter.’ Do you have a warrant out for your arrest?”
“No, do you?” grandfather fired back. “What do you want with me?”
“Are you planning on running for mayor?”
“What if I am?”
“Then I’d like to know your whereabouts in the very early hours of this morning.”
“How long was she dead?” Petunia asked.
“The coroner says since seven o’clock in the morning,” Pinkerton said.
Petunia filled Noah in on the crime show Cora had seen and he cocked a brow. “That explains it, if Florence didn’t have chlorine in her lungs. Well, did she?” Noah asked.
“No,” Petunia said. “And in the show, the motive was to ruin the election of a politician.”
“Then it could be somebody who doesn’t want the mayor running again,” Noah mused.
“Hand me over some identification, Simon,” the sheriff said.
“This is ridiculous. I wasn’t even in Lake Forest, I was at Sunny—”
“It was too sunny to remember?” Petunia asked, in an attempt to help him hide the fact that he had left Sunnybrook.
“Yes, exactly. I was in Bear Paw having lunch at Hidden Pass. It’s a Cajun-style restaurant, you know,” grandfather went on to say.
“I’ll check it out, but I still need to see your identification.”
“Well, you can’t because I don’t have any, nor a license to drive.”
“You do know I can arrest you just for that and then run your fingerprints through the system.”
“Go ahead. You won’t find them in your database. I work for the CIA and I’m on assignment.”
Sheriff Pinkerton’s jaw slacked open, now. “Aren’t you a little old to be working for the CIA? I thought older men like you would be on retirement.”
“None of us are ever on real retirement. When they call, you have to do whatever they ask you to. I can’t divulge anymore, just don’t get yourself into any trouble by interfering with my investigation.”
“And it involves Florence’s death?”
“It does.”
Pinkerton’s lips formed into a large frown now. “I’ll have to make some calls to verify that.”
Grandfather’s face hardened. “Go ahead and I’ll make darn sure that I have Homeland Security check you out. I don’t think you’d want that, but it’s up to you.”
“Fine. You have two days to wrap it up and I want to be involved when it’s over. This is my town and I want to be in the know, when and if you find out who murdered Florence.”
“Now, that’s something we can agree on and I’ll be happy to do that.”
“Is there anything else you’d care to share —like why the CIA would be interested in who murdered Florence? Is she someone of great importance?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. Good evening to you, sheriff,” grandfather said, dismissing the man.
While the sheriff was certainly red-faced, he strode to the door without further comment, screeching his tires as he left.
Petunia’s hands went to her hips, now. “I need to know how Florence is possibly involved in anything of interest. Who is she, really?”
Grandfather sighed. “Fine,” he said, as he sat. “She used to work for the CIA and left abruptly. Around that time, some valuable information disappeared, as well, or so I’ve heard.”
“And you know this, how?”
“I’ve seen her at Sunnybrook Manor before. She was talking about having something of interest that an interested party would pay big money for.”
“She said this to you, or to somebody else?”
“I overheard it. She was there to see Clara, her mother.”
“If we head out now, we might be able to make it there before visiting hours end,” Cora suggested, with keys in hand.
“Count me out. I can’t be seen there,” grandfather declared.
“He’s been undercover for a while now,” Petunia said. “But they found out who he was and they’ve threatened him if he goes back.”
“They can’t do that!” Cora said. “You have rights. If it’s not safe there, you have to tell someone. The lives of the residents may be in jeopardy.”
“Yes, Simon. What will you do?” Petunia asked.
“It’s not as serious as that sweet Cora. Now, where is my kiss?”
When grandfather and Cora embraced, Petunia rolled her eyes. Her grandfather was sure a slick one. He’d clearly distracted Cora nicely since when they parted, Cora led the way out to her car, minus grandfather, who definitely couldn’t accompany them.
Petunia didn’t like that he was leading Cora on like this, but she really wanted to question Florence’s mother and find out exactly what information she really had and wh
o she had been planned to sell it to. Perhaps her grandfather was on the up-and-up and he really was looking for what Florence had stolen from the CIA.
The drive to Bear Paw didn’t take all that long since Cora kept her foot slammed on the gas pedal, although she did slow down when they made it into town. When they passed the Hidden Pass restaurant, her grandfather’s claims became more real to her. She was almost ashamed for thinking he was just off his rocker. He must really be on a case and still working for the CIA.
They pulled into the parking lot of Sunnybrook Manor and they all clambered out, heading for the door. When they stepped inside, a receptionist glanced at the clock. “You have five minutes.”
“We’re here to see Clara McHenry,” Noah said.
“Are you, now. Well, go to the nurses’ station and they’ll tell you where she is, but be quick about it.”
Petunia led the way, with Noah and Cora following her up the hallway to the nurses’ station. Luckily, a nurse came right over. “Can I help you?”
“We’re looking for Clara McHenry. It’s important that we see her before visiting hours are over,” Petunia said.
“I’ll show you the way. She’s awfully sad, since her daughter was found dead. Perhaps you can cheer her up.”
They were led to Clara’s room, where the elderly woman was curled up on the bed in the fetal position.
“Excuse me,” Petunia said gently. “Can we speak to you, please?”
The old woman opened one eye and then the next. “Petunia, where is Alfred? I know that man here isn’t him and nobody will believe me.”
She wasn’t sure Clara would recognize her. “What make you think it’s not Alfred?”
“He’s a foot shorter, for one. Us old folks might shrink, but not within one night.”
“I see. You mean, you’re not sad because your daughter just died?” Noah asked.
Clara sighed as she sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m sad, but not surprised. I expected it at some point. That girl never did have much sense. She’s always taking up with married men and she had some scheme going that she claimed would put her on easy street.”
Meows, Magic & Manslaughter (Lake Forest Witches Book 2) Page 11