Ginger of the West

by Meg Muldoon

  Maddy looked professional and impressive in her uniform as she made her way toward me. But when she got about half-way through the café, one of the reporters shouted out to her in a pushy tone.

  “Hey, Officer! Who killed your mayor?”

  That simple act started an avalanche of other questions, all directed at Maddy.

  “Is it really safe to walk the streets of Broomfield Bay?”

  “Why are you here in a bakery when there’s a murderer roaming around your town?”

  “Should coastal residents be afraid for their lives?!”

  By the time Maddy reached me, her face was as red and purple as a sea urchin.

  “Crazy in here, huh?” I said, grabbing a mug and pouring her some coffee. But as she removed her hat, she shook her head.

  “No, thanks, Ging. I’m not here for a cup of joe…”

  I studied Maddy’s face and saw the deep, serious line between her eyebrows. I put the mug down.

  “Is everything okay?”

  I suddenly wondered if something had happened to her dad.

  She drew in a deep breath.

  “I really hate doing this…” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “But I’m here on official business, Ginger.”

  Maddy’s solemn eyes drilled into mine.

  “Geez,” I said. “The way you’re staring at me, Maddy, makes me wonder if I need to hire an attorney.”

  It was a joke, but judging by the expression on her face, she didn’t think it was funny.

  “Not you, Ging,” she said in a low tone. “But your aunt probably will.”

  Chapter 14

  I led Maddy into the kitchen and asked Sapphire to man the cash register for a few minutes.

  “Now tell me what’s going on. You’re making it sound like Aunt Viv is… Like she’s…”

  I trailed off, gulping hard.

  “Chief Logan wants to talk to Viv about Penelope’s murder, but we can’t find her anywhere. That’s why I’ve come. I was hoping that you can help locate her.”

  “But why? What does he need to talk to her for? You know she doesn’t know anything about Penelope’s death.”

  My hands were perspiring, and I wiped them off on my apron.

  Maddy held her hat at her side.

  “It’s about the fight,” she said.

  I furrowed my brow.

  “Fight? What fight?”

  “Viv had a big argument with Penelope two weeks ago.”

  My blood ran cold.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “It was while you were in Portland picking up some of that imported chocolate you use for your brownies. Your aunt didn’t tell you about what happened?”

  My silence must have spoken for itself because Maddy continued.

  “Well, apparently, Penelope almost ran down your aunt on Ocean Drive in her classic Mercedes. Viv was crossing the street at the crosswalk and the mayor roared up in her car, slamming on the brakes at the very last minute. Witnesses seemed to be unsure whether Penelope actually did it on purpose, but what they are sure about is that your aunt didn’t take too kindly to it.”

  Maddy took out the small notepad that she always carried in her shirt pocket. She flipped it open and continued.

  “According to two witnesses, Viv said ‘Stevie Nicks in Sedona! You nearly killed me, you old toad!’”

  Maddy released a wave of a sigh.

  “Then, according to the same witnesses, your aunt stood in front of the Mercedes and refused to move. She pounded on the hood with her fists. Then she called the mayor a few more choice names to which the mayor responded by calling her a…”

  Maddy flipped through her notepad to a new page.

  “‘Decrepit old witch who should have been burned at the stake years ago.’”

  How had Aunt Viv not told me about this?

  Maddy gulped. She looked up at me. Her eyes were wide with concern.

  “Then what?” I asked.

  “Witnesses told us that your aunt threatened the mayor in that confrontation. Here’s what she said, corroborated by three separate people. ‘Mark my words, Penelope Ashby. I’ll be standing over your grave soon! And I’ll be serving cupcakes and uncorking the champagne at the after party.’”

  “Oh my God,” I said.

  Maddy looked up and found my eyes.

  Now it was my turn to gulp.

  Anyone with a thimble of sense could see that this didn’t look good.

  “Mads, you know those two ladies. The whole town knows they’ve had arguments like that for the past 50 years. It’s never meant anything. The police can’t possibly think that…”

  She stayed strangely quiet.

  “Maddy, this is Aunt Viv we’re talking about!” I said. “She just blows off steam like that sometimes. But she would never… I mean, you’re not saying that you think she…”

  “Of course I’m not saying that, Ging. But look at what’s happening around here. The town is teeming with reporters because a mayor was killed at a popular beach resort community. That’s big news. And with big news like that comes big pressure to solve the case.”

  “Of course I understand. But none of that changes the fact that you and I both know that Aunt Viv didn’t kill Penelope just because they got in an argument.”

  “Ging, there’s more.”

  “What?”

  “The witnesses said that Penelope told your aunt that she was going to back the Historical Society’s proposal for taking over the Victorian. And man, the mayor was serious. She had already filed the petition and papers necessary to take it to the city council for a vote. In fact, they were supposed to vote on it during yesterday’s meeting, but the meeting was canceled due to obvious reasons. The house issue was on their agenda.”

  My chest tightened.

  “Oh, no,” I said.

  “Oh, no is right. That’s motive. I’m seriously worried for Viv. And now she’s disappeared. We’ve searched everywhere for her and nobody can find her. It… well, it doesn’t look good.”

  “So you guys think my 66-year-old aunt murdered the mayor and fled to Mexico to enjoy the tropical beaches and life on the lam for the rest of her days?” I asked, immediately wishing that I’d kept my mouth shut.

  “Look, Ging, I’m not the one who thinks that. That’s the chief. I’m the one trying to help. That’s why I’m here.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… I can’t believe this is happening. Aunt Viv just couldn’t do something like that.”

  “How about we find her and get her to the station so she can put all the rumors and theories to bed with a solid, air-tight alibi? Otherwise this thing’s going to balloon into a beast that we can’t control.”

  “Okay,” I said, letting out an anxious breath. “Okay, you’re right.”

  “You must have some idea where she might be, right?”

  I thought about it, and then nodded.

  “How about giving her a call?”

  “I doubt that will work.”

  Aunt Viv was one of the few people on earth who didn’t carry around a cell phone. She said they were bad for your spirit.

  “Okay, well how about this. Tell me where you think she is and I’ll go get her.”

  But that wouldn’t work either.

  “No. I’ll go,” I said, slipping out of my apron. “It has to be me.”

  I pulled on my jean jacket.

  I’d been hoping for a nice lunch break, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.

  But I wasn’t that hungry anymore, anyway.

  “You want something to eat before you go?” I asked Maddy.

  “I already had an energy bar, but thanks,” she said. “Hey, by the way, I don’t know if I saw it right, but guess who I saw leaving city hall this morning?”

  “Who?” I said, grabbing my car keys.

  “Eddie Cross.”

  A slight smile crept across Maddy’s face, but disappeared quickly.

  “Yeah,” I
said. “That was him. He’s a reporter now, and he’s in town covering the mayor’s death. He dropped by the greenhouse out of the blue yesterday afternoon. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “He always did,” she said. “Why didn’t you call and tell me?”

  “It’s been a bit busy here. Besides, it’s not a big deal. Really.”

  “Not a big deal when the love of your life comes back to town?”

  “Love of my life? It wasn’t anything more than one of those silly summer romances, Mads.”

  “Yeah, right. You were crazy about Eddie and for good reason. He loved you like nobody’s business. You know, it’s a shame what happened… I thought you two were perfect for each other. Maybe you still are.”

  “Hello?” I said, waving my hand in the air, emphasizing the diamond ring I still wore. “I’m still married.”

  “Only because you’re stalling on signing those papers.”

  “Well, Steve might have forgotten his vows, but I haven’t forgotten mi—”

  “Has he returned any of your calls in the last three months?”

  I paused.

  Then I shook my head.

  Maddy didn’t say anything more about it, but I could tell what she was thinking.

  She was thinking that after what he’d done to me, I should rip Steve out of my life like an invasive weed in my café’s garden.

  But some things were easier said than done. And while Maddy was my best friend, I didn’t expect her to understand what it felt like to put an end to 10 years of dreams with a single signature.

  We stood there in silence for a minute. I started heading for the swinging doors that led through the dining room.

  “The police are really sure Penelope was murdered?” I said, changing the topic.

  “Sure as sharks circle lifeboats,” she said. “And you know what else I’m sure of?”

  “What?”

  “That if your aunt didn’t do it, that means one of the fine citizens of Broomfield Bay is a murderer.”

  A sudden chill rushed through me as we stood side by side, staring out at the crowded café.

  “The murderer could be sitting right out there, scarfing down pastries and drinking coffee,” Maddy said.

  She was right.

  It could have been any of the three Historical Society members who were huddled together in the far corner, speaking in low voices. Or Mike Riggins, the city councilor and real estate developer who was drinking coffee and scowling at a newspaper. Or Charlene Cole, Nigel Parks’ number one fan, who was on her second White Chocolate Raspberry Cupcake. Or Lilianna Marsh, who was sitting with her laptop open, her fingers resting limply on the keyboard while her eyes focused out the window on Christopher’s flower shop. Or Emma and Jane Singletary, the sisters who owned the kite store. Or Annie Dexter, the organizer of the local Farmer’s Market.

  It could have been one of them, or just about anyone else in town.

  Murder didn’t happen in Broomfield Bay. It was one of the reasons we all loved living here so much. It was the kind of place that made you feel safe.

  At least, it used to be.

  “Call me when you find your aunt?” Maddy said.

  I nodded.

  She put her hat back on and left the kitchen.

  A barrage of questions followed her all the way out of the café.

  Chapter 15

  Aunt Viv disappearing like that wasn’t as mysterious as Maddy made it out to be.

  Her disappearing this particular morning was just bad timing.

  I was betting that Aunt Viv was up on Eagle Ridge, the place she went to collect the wild herbs and mushrooms that grew on the slopes up there for her special potions. As she walked, she also liked to meditate. It was her time to “talk” with the natural world and recharge her soul, which was why she always insisted on being alone on the long hikes.

  I drove up to the coastal foothills hoping to find her pink VW Bug parked at the trailhead. The rains of last week were gone and the bright sunshine had dried out the dirt. My old Hyundai rattled along, jolting and sputtering every now and again at the dips in the road.

  It wasn’t long before I saw Viv’s hard-to-miss VW in the trailhead lot.

  I parked, pulled on the hiking boots that I kept in the car for such occasions, and started off on the trail.

  It had been a while since I’d come here. Almost a year, I realized. Growing up, Aunt Viv brought me to Eagle Ridge all the time to collect wild plants. She had taught me about their individual qualities and what they could be used for. For example, a little nettle could help protect a person from getting bogged down by negative co-workers, just like a pinch of wild sage could help ground a love elixir. Some kids had summer camp growing up. I had Aunt Viv’s trips to Eagle Ridge.

  The last time I had been up here had been for the summer solstice. The solstice, which was coming up again this week, was always a fun celebration. Some witches really went to town in honor of the occasion. But for us, it was usually a small affair that consisted of a bonfire and a whispering of gratitude-filled words up on Eagle Ridge. It also involved fancy s’mores, which as a kid, had always been my favorite part. Actually, it was still my favorite part. Sometimes Aunt Viv’s sister – my other aunt, Skyler – would even make a trip here from Minnesota for the occasion.

  Though Aunt Sky wasn’t visiting this year for the solstice – she was getting up there in age and couldn’t travel like she used to – Aunt Viv and I would still celebrate it the way we always did.

  Of course, all of that depended on me finding her now so we could go down to the police station and clear her name of this Ashby business.

  About a mile in, I saw a familiar straw hat moving slowly through the trees and heading into a large grassy meadow.

  I let out a sigh of relief.

  Chapter 16

  “She kicked me out!”

  I shot up from the chair in the police station and eyed the rotund man in the purple polka dot tie and scuffed brown shoes.

  “What do you mean she kicked you out? You’re her lawyer. She can’t do that, can she?”

  “Ginger – your aunt has, against my better advice, refused my representation,” Reginald Powers said. “She made it quite clear that she wanted me out of there.”

  The portly lawyer, who was perpetually red in the cheeks, patted his sweaty forehead with an aged handkerchief.

  “Well, did you make it clear to her that she needs representation?” I asked.

  “In so many words, yes,” Reginald said. “But there’s only so much abuse a man can stand before he realizes it just isn’t worth it.”

  He patted his forehead again.

  “I’m sorry if she insulted you, Mr. Powers, I really am,” I said. “She’s under a lot of stress right now. But she needs you. Can’t you claim that she’s incompetent of making a decision like that or something? You know half the town thinks she’s crazy anyway. It can’t be that hard to—”

  “Vivian is not mentally impaired. In fact, I’d say judging by her intelligent, cruel turn of phrase, her faculties are sharper than ever. That tongue of hers could cut through steel.”

  “But she can’t talk to the cops by herself,” I pleaded.

  “I feel for you, kid. Really. But she’s as stubborn as a pack of sea lions napping on a dock.”

  “I know.”

  “And even if your aunt hadn’t insulted my tie and called me a nincompoop who doesn’t know his left foot from his right, without her consent I could not represent her anyway.”

  Reginald Powers gave me a sheepish nod, and then turned and walked away slowly, ambling down the hallway of the police station.

  Where would I find another lawyer, another good lawyer that we could not only trust, but would let us pay off the debt over time?

  How could Aunt Viv be so foolish?

  On the drive to the station, I had told her what Maddy had told me: that the cops were looking seriously into that argument she had with the mayor and how it might
tie into the murder. Most normal people would have been worried. But Aunt Viv only laughed, turned the radio up loud, magically found Fleetwood Mac’s “Gypsy,” and sang along like a mental patient fresh out of the asylum. Acting like I was taking her to an all-inclusive spa retreat instead of a small interrogation room at the police station.

  When I asked her about the fight between her and the mayor, she’d brushed it off, saying, “Oh, that was just me telling it straight to old Penny. It’s always been that way with us.”

  Her behavior and nonchalant attitude about the whole thing irritated me to no end. And worried me to no end, too.

  I’d called Reginald as soon as we’d come down from the woods and had reception again, the way Maddy had told me to. Reginald had represented Aunt Viv in a few different cases over the years concerning the city and her house, and had even drawn up her will. And while he may not have been the best-dressed man in the courtroom, he’d done good by Aunt Viv.

  Which meant that she should have taken his help with open arms – not called him a nincompoop and sent him packing.

  At the very least, somebody had to stop Aunt Viv before she talked her way right into a jail cell for the next 30 years.

  And with Reginald gone, I realized it would have to be me.

  I walked over to the front desk sergeant.

  Bud Madsen, an officer with a thick neck and a baby face, who I knew because he was the son of a client I’d helped a couple of years before, glanced up.

  “Is there something I can help you with, ma’am?”

  “Yes, actually,” I said, flashing my most charming and endearing smile. “You see, the fine police officers of your department are back there talking to my aunt. But the problem is that it’s an hour past the time when she needs to take her blood pressure medication. If she doesn’t get it soon, then I’m afraid it could be very bad. For her health, I mean.”

  I feigned a concerned, worried expression.

  “So if it’s okay with you, I’d like to just slip back there and give her the pills.”

  The baby-faced cop rubbed his chin and stared at me for a long moment.