Spell on Earth (An Elemental Witches of Eternal Springs Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Leighann Dobbs

Skye blinked at me then gave a rueful shake of her head. “All work and no play, Zola? Same as ever.”

  “A woman died on our island,” I said, bristling. “Pardon me for taking that seriously.”

  “You don’t think the rest of us are concerned?” Skye’s tone took on an edge. “In case you forgot, all four of us are required to protect this place. If we don’t, we get punished the same as you.”

  A bit of my affront dissipated. I snorted. “You get a load of flak from the coven too?”

  “Yeah, Jadis was on me last night about a bunch of things.” Skye slurped her drink. “The murder is disturbing. Too bad I don’t really know a lot about it.”

  “Do you know who Amelia met with that night?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I knew she had a meeting but not who she was meeting with. Sorry.”

  “Well, I certainly hope no one seriously thinks that Lilly did it,” I said. “The evidence is so sketchy.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time Buddy used sketchy evidence,” Skye said.

  “He just doesn’t want to do any work. Picks the first person that comes along to make it look like he’s on top of things.” Evian stuck the paper umbrella behind her ear.

  “That’s why I feel like I have to figure out who did it. I can’t let Lilly get blamed for this,” I said.

  “You sure this isn’t more about Lilly’s hot nephew?” Skye made annoying kissing noises in my direction.

  My cheeks heated. “No.”

  “I wish the police would solve this stupid case. It’s already affecting the local tourism. I can feel it,” Kenna said.

  “Hmm.” I sipped my drink and winced as a new singer took the stage, this one a middle-aged guy with a floppy Gilligan-style hat and a loud Hawaiian shirt covered in palm trees and glaring orange sunsets. His song of choice was My Way, again with a distinctive calypso flavor that would’ve had Frank Sinatra fuming in his grave.

  “I wish Buddy wasn’t so stubborn.” I frowned. “I was there earlier to tell them I thought they should look more at Mr. Pendleton as a suspect.”

  “Really?” Skye finished her rum runner and ordered another. “I don’t think he did it. You’ve been watching too many cop shows.”

  “He had motive, with the whole strip mall deal,” I said.

  “Strip mall deal?” Skye looked at me funny. “I haven’t heard about any ‘strip mall deal’.” She hooked her fingers and made air quotes for emphasis.

  “Iona Littlefield spilled the secret that Frank Pendleton had some kind of deal he was working with Buddy.” I didn’t want to tell them how I’d forced the truth out of Iona. “Amelia opposed it.”

  Skye shook her head. “I don’t know about that. With my job, I’m usually the first to know about anything like that, and I haven’t heard a word about it until you brought it up. Sounds suspicious.”

  “Maybe you don’t know everything,” Kenna said. “If Amelia Pendleton’s husband was financing it, and someone else was getting a payoff to push it through—say like Buddy—then they’d probably want to keep it hush-hush, right? The last person they’d want the news leaked to is you, Skye. No offense.”

  “None taken.” Skye seemed to consider that a minute. “When I saw Amelia’s calendar, there wasn’t anyone listed for that meeting the night she died, but there were a lot of other visits listed, mainly to one spot.”

  “Where’s that?” Evian, Kenna, and I asked in unison.

  “The Fountain of Youth.” Skye chuckled. “Of course, all the ladies like going there. Men too. So that really isn’t a surprise.”

  “Did Abigail determine a time of death yet?” I asked.

  “She said she estimated the body had been dead for about four hours by the time you found her.” Skye gnawed a piece of booze-pickled fruit from her coconut cup. “Why?”

  I shuddered. “It’s just creepy. That’s all. I mean, Amelia Pendleton was lying facedown in that chocolate fountain for four hours, and no one noticed?”

  “And what did they do with all that chocolate?” Evian added. “What a waste! So sad.”

  We all laughed and listened to the next singer for a bit, another woman who chose Cher’s If I Could Turn Back Time as her tune. She did a pretty good job at it too.

  “So a dead woman lays facedown in a fountain in the middle of a busy resort lobby, and no one sees a thing.” Skye shook her head. “Weird.”

  “It’s usually pretty empty in there that time of the morning,” I said. “I had to run into the kitchen to find someone to help me.”

  “So the kitchen staff was there, and they didn’t see anything?” Skye asked.

  The suspicions that I didn’t want to have about Tommy grew. I supposed it was possible no one in the kitchen noticed. They came into the kitchen through the door in the back and would have no reason to go out in the lobby. Then again, Tommy would probably know that no one would be in the lobby that early. His job in the kitchen gave him a perfectly good excuse for being at the scene of the crime.

  “I guess no one noticed. They probably don’t have a reason to leave the kitchen.” I sipped more of my drink.

  “Getting back to Amelia Pendleton’s husband and the strip mall, I wouldn’t worry too much about it ruining our local flavor. From what I heard around town, Amelia held the purse strings in their family, and she didn’t leave anything to her husband, so that will put a quick kibosh on his development plans if that rumor is true,” Kenna said.

  “Yikes!” My eyes widened. “That’s pretty cold. Though the daughter did tell me theirs had been a marriage in name only for a while now.”

  “That’s what I heard too,” Skye said.

  “I wonder if Frank Pendleton knew he wasn’t getting anything,” I mused out loud. “Because if Frank wanted money for this strip mall, and Amelia, who held the purse strings, opposed it, then maybe he figured getting rid of her would solve two problems.”

  “Free him up to carouse around town,” Evian said.

  “And free up her money for the project,” Kenna added.

  “But if he knew he wasn’t getting anything, that makes him less of a suspect,” I said.

  “Yeah, but it brings up a new suspect,” Skye continued, “because I heard everything in the will ended up going to her daughter. Well, except for the shoe and handbag collection. Those went to that weird friend of hers, Franny.”

  Kenna frowned at Skye. “You don’t think someone would kill their mother over money, do you?”

  “She did seem rather stoic that morning when the body was found,” I said. “And she does have a fondness for expensive clothes.”

  “What’s the deal with the friend getting the shoes and purses?” Evian asked.

  “No idea.”

  “Maybe that makes her suspicious too,” Skye said. “Amelia had some very expensive bags.”

  Images of the pink Birkin bag came to mind. “I looked up that pink bag she had when she was killed. It goes for more than thirty thousand dollars.”

  Skye’s left brow ticked up. “Enough to kill a friend over?”

  “Maybe it would be for you.”

  “You can find out if it would be enough for Franny. She’s sitting right over there,” Skye said, gesturing to the other end of the bar where said woman sat alone, nursing a piña colada.

  Seizing my chance, I grabbed my drink and pushed up from the table. “Save my place. Oh, and be careful about touching the underside of the table. Last time I was here, it was covered with a gooey brown mess.”

  “Ew.” Kenna wrinkled her nose and sat back.

  Skye pulled a face then stuck her head under the table to inspect for herself.

  I weaved through the throngs of people, catching tidbits of conversation as I passed. Seemed there were more people affected by the sticky hair situation than just the tourist lady I’d seen the previous day. In fact, if the number of short hairstyles was any indication, the salons of Eternal Springs were having a lucrative week.

  As I approached Franny, I cou
ld see she was dressed in more designer wear—crisp seersucker capri pants, a pale-blue top to match, and a huge white Fendi bag sitting on the bar in front of her.

  Kenna’s words about Franny inheriting the shoes and bags from Amelia ran through my head again, followed closely by the daughter’s observation that Franny hadn’t even waited for the formal executor’s reading to claim her inheritance.

  The closer I got, the more the amount of work Franny had done on her face became apparent. Corinne had made a quip about that too. Something about two-for-one specials on Botox. Considering getting injections together seemed quite intimate, maybe Franny knew who Amelia had been supposed to meet the night she died.

  I squeezed in beside her at the bar and flashed what I hoped was my most friendly smile. “Franny, right? Zola Meadows. We met that morning at the resort. I’m so sorry again about what happened to your friend, but I’m glad to see you getting out again.”

  Franny placed a hand on her bag and gave me a speculative stare. “I know who you are. I remember. And thank you.”

  “Mind if I sit with you a minute?” I asked, wrangling a stool without waiting for her answer.

  “I suppose that’s fine,” she said, pulling the Fendi closer to her and scowling at a nearby man who’d nearly spilled his beer all over it. “These people are so rowdy and obnoxious.”

  “Yeah, karaoke nights can get a little crazy around here.” I leaned an elbow on the bar, almost spilling my drink in the process. Franny swooped the purse off the bar and clutched it protectively to her chest.

  “I like to keep my things nice, and these people are spilling,” Franny snipped, giving my drink some serious side-eye.

  “Understood.” I winked at Bonnie as she walked by then focused on my reason for being down at this end of the bar. “Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt your friend, Amelia? I’ve heard there might have been problems between her and her husband.”

  “Pfft,” Franny scoffed. “Sure, theirs wasn’t a fairy tale union, but no way would he have hurt Amelia.”

  “I hear Amelia was quite wealthy. What if he thought he’d inherit her money?” I asked.

  Franny didn’t bat an eye. “Oh, that makes no sense. Frank knew he wasn’t getting a dime, poor man. Corinne got everything.”

  “Well, not everything.” I eyed the Fendi and then Franny again.

  “No.” She clutched the bag tighter. “Not everything.”

  I tried a different route. “I’d also heard that Amelia had perhaps another idea for an investment on the island. Had she ever mentioned anything like that to you?”

  “Maybe. I actually had an idea for her to invest in.” Franny shrugged. “But if you ask me, I’d say it was the person she was meeting for dinner that night who killed her. She wouldn’t tell me who it was. I’m guessing it was a lover because Amelia and her husband weren’t close that way anymore. Maybe that guy over there.” She nodded toward the door where Tommy Martinelli stood. My heart gave its obligatory cartwheel. “He’s young and studly, and he makes delicious pies.” She leaned closer to me. “And I saw him give her a gift.”

  Whoa, that was a new one. Why would Tommy give Amelia a gift? If he did, why hadn’t he mentioned it? “What kind of gift?”

  “The best kind. The kind that comes in a small box.” Franny sipped her drink. “Oh, Amelia acted all cagey about it. Denied it and all, but all the signs were there.”

  Tommy didn’t seem the type to have a fling with the likes of Amelia Pendleton—at least I hoped he wasn’t. I frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “All I know is that Amelia had that glow about her. You know the one I mean, when you’ve got a lusty guy like that waiting at home for you in bed.” I forced the unwanted images that conjured out of my brain and tried to concentrate on what Franny was saying. “Anyway, his aunt’s under arrest for the crime right now, so maybe others had something to do with poor Amelia’s death. All I know for certain is that once Amelia took up with whoever she was seeing here on the island, she dropped me like a hot potato.”

  There was a definite twinge of hurt to her voice. I also couldn’t let a slight against my friend Lilly slide either. “Seems a bit odd to me that an elderly woman like Lilly would kill Amelia. Or be in on it with her nephew. I’d think that, if Tommy had something to do with it, he’d act alone.”

  Franny sighed. “Maybe you’re right.”

  As if on cue, Tommy caught my eye. He waved and started to head over, which was my signal to leave. The last thing I wanted Tommy to think was that I was tailing him around town, especially when we seemed to be questioning the same people. Nor did I want to hang around with him given that he was making his way to the top of my suspect list. I still found it hard to believe he could be involved in Amelia’s death, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was trying to cover something up. His own tracks perhaps?

  I stopped at the other table and said a hasty goodbye to Kenna, Skye, and Evian before grabbing my purse and heading for the back exit. I’d nearly made it outside when my shoe got stuck in a big wad of brown gunk.

  Ugh. The gnome strikes again.

  Fifteen

  The next morning I awoke with a ruined sandal and a new determination to rid Eternal Springs of the gnome. The best way I knew to handle it was a gnome trap. I’d worked out a pretty good one the day before in my shop. Now all I had to do was collect the ingredients for it.

  Penuche and Clover had been getting along famously, so after opening my shop for the day, I headed to the back of the greenhouse for more of Ernestine’s webs. The gnome trap required something sticky and webs were perfect. Luckily, she’d been busy overnight, and I plucked off a few strands with a sincere apology.

  Once I had those, I next went for the slug slime. Yep. It’s as disgusting as it sounds, but again, necessary. Lily stamens went into the mix too. Finally all I needed was something small and shiny that tinkled when it moved. Wind chimes.

  The only shop on the island that sold wind chimes was a place called Cloaked, a chic, overpriced clothing boutique near the resort that was frequented by its ritzy guests. I never shopped there because I couldn’t afford to, but they seemed to do a swift business despite the lack of local support. I locked Clover and Penuche in the shop together and headed to Cloaked. Lucky thing most of my income came from landscaping and commercial contracts. With the way I kept having to close up shop, the gravy money from plant sales was going to be nonexistent.

  The atmosphere in Cloaked was what I’d call trendy-relaxing. The air was lightly scented with jasmine. The racks were filled with perfectly tailored clothing in the latest colors. Soft Gaelic music played in the background.

  I was inspecting the artisan wind chimes when the dressing room door opened, and Corinne Pendleton stepped out. Spending her new inheritance, no doubt. Big surprise there. It was just her kind of store, all designer labels and high prices. Shopping so soon after her mother’s death seemed a bit crass, but who was I to judge? She had an armload of garments that I was sure cost more than I made in a decade. She saw me, and her lips curled in a wan smile.

  “Oh, hi, Miss Meadows.” Corinne flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder in true model fashion. “You shop here too?” The crease on her forehead and the way she scowled as she scanned my outfit told me she doubted it.

  Who could blame her? All the patrons in here looked as if they came right off a New York fashion runway. I looked like I’d stepped right off the farm, with my denim shorts and plain white T-shirt. Still, I was clean and comfortable, and that’s all that mattered to me.

  “Sometimes,” I said. “Hey, I ran into your mother’s friend Franny last night at Coconuts.”

  “My condolences,” she said, placing the garments on the front counter beside an impressive pile of shoes and handbags. “What did she have to say?”

  “Not much.” I couldn’t help drawing comparisons between mother and daughter, both in love with their clothes and bags. “She had a white bag, a Fendi. Was that you
r mother’s?”

  “Yep.” Corrine sorted through the clothes, making two piles. I’d hoped to get some kind of rise out of her. To find out if the fact that Amelia had left her purses and shoes to Franny bothered her. She’d been mostly unemotional about her mother’s murder, and she did stand to gain financially. Then again, maybe Amelia’s murder had nothing to do with money and more to do with Corinne being jealous that her mother paid more attention to Franny.

  “I also heard your mother and Franny spent a lot of time in the spa and at the Fountain of Youth.”

  Corinne snorted, handing a platinum credit card to the clerk behind the counter. “Yeah, Mom was obsessed with looking young. She spent so much time at the Fountain of Youth that I was wondering if they were going to start charging her rent. I mean, that’s when she wasn’t in the day spa getting injections.” Corinne slid her card back into her wallet without looking at me. “Mom’s not the only one who frequented that fountain. From what I hear, so did that woman who’s in jail for her murder.”

  That stunned me. Hadn’t Lilly said that she had no interest in that sort of thing?

  Corinne looked up at me and must’ve seen the skepticism on my face. “Yeah, I even saw her there myself. Doesn’t sound like it did that woman any good, though, so I’m thinking she killed my mother out of jealousy.”

  “What makes you think she killed your mother?”

  “Well, she is in jail for it, isn’t she?”

  She thanked the clerk before taking the numerous bags handed to her and headed for the front entrance. I followed along beside her.

  “Lilly didn’t do it,” I said, eyeing all the bags. “You sure bought a lot.”

  “I used to borrow my mother’s, but I can’t find her nice-weather clothing, and now that Franny took all the purses and shoes, I’ve got to get my own.”

  We stopped near the doors. “Speaking of purses, I was at the police station the other day and Buddy … err … the police mentioned that they think the killer took something from your mother’s purse.”

  “Yeah, they mentioned that to me too.” Corinne frowned. “I have a pretty good idea of what my mom carried with her on a daily basis. I checked it all and don’t think anything’s missing. I’m surprised they don’t just ask that old lady. Seems like she’d crack under pressure.”