Fried Green Witch

by Amy Boyles

  “Be serious,” I said. “Anyone else you can think of?”

  Tina glanced around the room. “Maybe. The only person I can think of is maybe Caroline Applebury. At one time she used to bake cupcakes and cookies and stuff. Liked to think she was a real baker.”

  “But she wasn’t?” Roman said.

  Tina grimaced. “Her food is horrible. I don’t know how you can make terrible cupcakes, but she did. So she’s the only one I can think of.”

  “I met her at the shower. Does she live in town, too?” I said.

  Tina nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got her address somewhere.”

  She scrolled through her phone until she found it and gave it to us.

  “Thanks for your time,” Roman said.

  We left the house right as Reid and Grandma arrived in my older sedan. I rushed to the car, blocking Grandma from opening the door. I motioned for her to roll down the window.

  “Well?” Grandma said. “Did you put hot coals to her feet until she confessed?”

  “That would be a no,” I said. “Because torture is illegal in this state.”

  “Tomato, to-mahto,” she said, wiggling her ring-laden fingers at me.

  “That doesn’t change anything,” I said. “But we have a lead on another person to talk to.”

  Grandma’s eyes widened. “Who?”

  I leaned down and met Reid’s gaze. “Can y’all drive home? Take Grandma there and we’ll be in touch.”

  Grandma crossed her arms. “If you think I’m going to sit by and do nothing while my granddaughter is charged with murder, then you’re no relative of mine.”

  I sighed. “It would be easier if you did nothing for once. Let Roman and I do this job without interruption.”

  “I’m tempted to send all of you home,” he said from behind me.

  I stiffened and glared at him over my shoulder. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He placed his hands on his hips and shifted his weight. “All you’re doing is wasting time by arguing. None of this is helping.”

  I glared at him. “Well, if that’s the case, let’s just all drive over to the next house.”

  Roman rolled his eyes. “Great idea. Let’s scare her to death.”

  Grandma poked the air in victory. “Maybe we’ll get her to confess while she’s at it.”

  I sighed. “All right. Let’s go. But no one do anything stupid.”

  Grandma elbowed Reid. “She’s talking to you.”

  Reid gaped at Grandma. “No, she isn’t. She’s talking to you.”

  I left them arguing in the car and hopped in with Roman. He drove to Caroline’s house, which was about twenty minutes outside town.

  By the time we got there, the sun was beginning to dip down onto the horizon, smearing the sky in lavender and lemon swatches of color.

  Caroline answered on the first bell ring. “Oh, it’s so good to see friendly faces,” she cooed. The woman wrapped me up in an unexpected hug. I stood for a second, unsure if I should hug her back or stand awkwardly on her front porch.

  In the end I decided to hug her back.

  She ushered us inside. The mousy, insecure woman I’d met at the party seemed to be gone. The inside of Caroline’s home had splashes of chipper, wonderful color throughout, and Caroline herself had changed into a pink sweater and leggings.

  She sat on a couch, and a black cat curled around her legs.

  “What a sweet kitty,” I said, extending my hand.

  The thing hissed and swatted a paw full of claws at me.

  I bolted back. “Oh, okay. Well, she’s not that friendly, I see.”

  The cat jumped up into Caroline’s lap and curled into a ball. It glared evil green eyes at me. Yes, they were evil. I could tell.

  “She’s just particular,” Caroline said. “Doesn’t like many people. That’s how it is sometimes with familiars.”

  “A familiar?” I said.

  Caroline nodded. “Mmm hmmm. Do you have one?”

  “Um, no…I did, I mean, for about a day, but then she left.”

  That was true. A little while back I’d met a talking rat named Trixie who needed me to make a wedding dress for her. Well, she ended up being somewhat of a familiar, as I could work my magic through her, which was awesome, amazing and made working magic exceptionally easy.

  But now Trixie was gone.

  But let me tell you, it was a strange thing sewing a wedding dress for a rat. Then, for the actual ceremony, Trixie wanted me to wear a matching wedding dress as her maid of honor. Yep. It was beyond strange, but I made it work, ‘cause you know, I’m cool like that.

  The cat blinked at me. I swear the creature was sending little waves of hate in my direction.

  “I heard about your sister, Sera,” Caroline said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Roman cleared his throat. “That’s actually why we’re here.”

  The cat’s tail twitched as Roman talked. It glared at him as if the animal could understand what Roman was saying. That wasn’t possible, was it?

  Of course, Trixie could talk, so I guess anything’s possible.

  “You want to talk to me?” Caroline said.

  “We heard you used to do some baking,” Roman said.

  Caroline nodded. “Let me guess, Tina told you that.”

  Roman crossed one ankle atop the opposite knee. “That’s right.”

  Caroline stroked the cat. The creature lifted its tail and purred. “I used to bake, but that was a long time ago. I don’t do it anymore.”

  “Why’s that?” I said.

  Caroline’s gaze slashed to me. Her eyes narrowed briefly, and then she relaxed. “I don’t do it because I’d had some problems along the way. Magical cooking isn’t for everyone, as I’m guessing your sister just discovered.”

  I tried to keep the steel edge in my voice to a minimum. “She was born with the talent to bake with her gift. I suppose not everyone has that.”

  Caroline shook her head. “Most people don’t. At all. I didn’t, so I had to use other means.”

  “What do you mean?” Roman said.

  She flicked a long strand of brown hair over her shoulder. “What I mean is I had to use a spell book that my mother had given me. That’s how I learned to bake.”

  My eyebrows shot up at that. “A spell book?” That sounded exactly like the story that Tina had just told us. “Did anything ever go wrong?”

  Caroline glanced down at her fingernails and nodded. “That’s how I know that what happened to Maisie dealt with magical cooking, because I myself had made someone blow up and float away.”

  “When was this?” Roman said. I had the feeling he was thinking the exact same thing as me.

  “When I was little, in middle school.”

  I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You didn’t go to school with Tina, did you?”

  Caroline nodded. “Sure did. I’ve known her all my life.”

  So why didn’t Tina just come out and tell us the person who made her classmate blow up like a balloon was Caroline? Why lie about it?

  Roman drummed his fingers on his leg. “So were you there when someone at your middle school blew up and floated away?”

  Caroline laughed. “Was I there? Of course. I’m the one who caused it. It was a mistake. Completely accidental. I didn’t work the spell right, you see.”

  “So you’re the person who blew up a kid at school,” I said slowly, trying to process it all.

  Caroline nodded. “Yes, that was me. Trust me, I got into a lot of trouble for it. Had the spell book taken away. I guess I deserved it, though.”

  “Okay,” Roman said. “Do you mind me asking exactly who you worked the spell on?”

  Caroline shook her head. “Of course I don’t mind. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you. I worked the spell on Tina. She’s the one who floated away.”

  SIX

  “And Tina didn’t bother to let us know,” I said to Roman once we got back in the car.

&
nbsp; “You’re saying she didn’t want us to know because…?” Roman said.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Because she’s clearly the person who killed Maisie,” I countered.

  Roman chuckled. “I’m not going to lie and say I don’t think it’s suspicious, but I don’t think she lied because she’s a murderer.”

  I threw up my hands. “Why else wouldn’t she tell us?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe because she was embarrassed. A lot of people are haunted by events that occurred when they were younger.”

  I paused, watching Roman quietly. His mother and sisters had been murdered when he was young. Certain that’s what he was referencing, I placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “I wasn’t trying to be unsympathetic.”

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to make excuses for her. I was only pointing it out.”

  “Well,” I huffed. “Where are we supposed to go now? We used up both our leads, and I’m going to be honest and say it appears like Tina is looking more guilty than Caroline. She knew the spell existed, and she also opened the window right when it was happening.”

  “So those two things make her guilty,” Roman said.

  “Exactly right.”

  He laughed again. “What happened to your grandmother and Reid?”

  I narrowed my gaze until I felt my brows pinch together. “That’s a good question.” I fished my phone out from the depths of my cluttered purse, managing to get a lipstick-stained Post-it note stuck to my hand in the process. I flicked it off and texted my sister.

  Where did y’all go?

  After a moment she responded. Grandma decided she needed to eat. That her bad mood was because of low blood sugar.

  Ok.

  Where are y’all going?

  “They grabbed some food,” I said to Roman. “And want to know where we’re headed.”

  Roman cranked the ignition and leaned back in the seat. “Who’s the one person that’s going to know the most about what’s happening?”

  I thought about it a moment. “The very pregnant sister, probably.”

  He nodded. “Why don’t we grab some food for Sera, get something to eat ourselves and then hit Daisy’s house?”

  “She’ll probably be inconsolable. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  Roman laid the flat of his hand on his stomach. “Once we eat and get our heads screwed on straight, we can reevaluate it.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Where are there places to eat in this town?”

  “Back in that old warehouse district,” Roman said. “Pretty sure I saw a burger joint. How’s that sound?”

  I nodded. “About perfect.”

  Roman drove us back downtown. The street had been cleared where Maisie had landed, but even as the sunlight waned, I could make out a distinct smudge on the asphalt.

  Ew.

  But let’s face it, it wasn’t like Maisie and I were best friends or anything. Still, I didn’t like to think about body smears, much less see them.

  We entered the burger place, which proved pretty busy. It was brightly lit with decor that was all Formica and red vinyl with black piping at the seams—very old-school diner. Booths lined the walls, and a jukebox sat in a corner. I figured a milkshake and a burger would be a perfect date-night meal.

  Yes, I know I’m getting married soon, but sometimes you just need a little bit of food therapy, and I really needed some right about now.

  We ordered and sat at a booth, staring at one another.

  “I need to get a meal for Sera,” I said.

  Roman nodded. “We’ll grab something for her. Don’t worry.”

  I drummed my fingers on the tabletop. “Have you told Brock what’s going on?”

  Roman winced. “Not yet. I didn’t want to worry him.”

  I scrolled through my phone until I found his number. “But Sera might need him. She’s in jail, Roman. Brock would want to know. We should tell him.”

  Roman pulled his phone from his pocket and slid from the seat. “I’ll call him now.”

  “I think that’s the best thing to do.”

  Roman brushed his lips across my forehead. “You sure are bossy today. Don’t worry, I still love you. Be right back.”

  I tapped my fingers on the flecked Formica tabletop, holding my breath while Roman called Brock, Sera’s boyfriend. We probably should’ve called him earlier, but honestly I was too busy trying to figure out who’d really spelled Maisie to think about it.

  It surprised me that Sera hadn’t said anything about him, either, when I talked to her at the station. But then again, she hinted that they were in some sort of spat. It couldn’t be that serious. Those two were in some serious love.

  All these thoughts drifted into my head as the door opened.

  I briefly glanced at the person who entered, but saw enough of the long chestnut hair and round belly to realize it was Daisy, Maisie’s sister. What was she doing out? And if she was out, then I figured she was fair game to corner and ask about her sister.

  I mean, who goes out to eat the day their sister is murdered?

  Only someone who’s guilty, if you asked me.

  I watched as she waddled with a man, presumably her husband. They snatched up a corner booth. Daisy leaned over and talked to him in a hushed tone.

  Maybe he wasn’t her husband after all.

  Maybe I had an overactive imagination because I wanted to get my sister out of this mess.

  Maybe I had an overactive imagination no matter what.

  “Got ahold of him,” Roman said. “He’s coming. Should be here in a half hour or so.”

  I quirked a brow. “How does he travel? I mean, the only way I know to get to Castle Witch is by magic.”

  “Monkey Town is the same way,” Roman said. “He’ll arrive somewhere close by and grab a car that a friend stationed for him.”

  I sat back, impressed. “It pays to be a king.”

  “King of the winged monkeys, no less,” Roman said.

  “True that.” I leaned forward to tell him about Daisy as our server lowered a plate of food in front of me. I pulled away.

  As soon as she disappeared, I nudged Roman’s arm. “Okay, so be as nonchalant as possible, but look over your shoulder.”

  Roman finished chewing a bite of burger. He flicked a napkin open and draped it over his lap. “Why?”

  “Because Maisie’s sister is two booths behind us talking to some man.”

  His mouth curved into a delicious-looking smile. “Were her eyes red?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  He shook a bottle of squeezable ketchup and squirted a dollop onto his plate. “Is the man her husband?”

  “I don’t know. But from the way she was leaning close to him, it made me wonder.”

  “Maybe they’ve got an important will to discuss.”

  “I say we follow them,” I said.

  Roman swiped a napkin over his mouth. “And you’re basing this on what?”

  “On the fact that we were going to visit her anyway. Now we’ll know when she’s home and be guaranteed an opportunity to talk to her. So, I’m basing this on my amazing detectiving skills.”

  “Not a word,” he said. “That’s not in the dictionary.”

  I flashed him a brilliant smile. “It is in my book.” I rubbed my hands together. “So, what do you say?”

  “I say as long as we’re around to meet Brock, we do it. But what about Sera’s food?”

  I frowned. “I forgot all about that. Hmm. We’ll grab a plate to go and hope that Daisy gets dropped off at her house immediately.”

  “I can tell by the twinkle in your eye that you don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  I shrugged. “I have some seriously awesome instincts when it comes to this sort of thing.”

  Roman clicked his tongue. “Right. Which is why you make clothes for a living and I work for the police.”

  “Do not judge a person by how they make their money, but in what they do with their brain,
” I countered.

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Just made it up.”

  Roman chuckled. “You’re right. I was being narrow-minded. Let’s grab food for Sera before they leave.”

  I called the waitress over and put in an order. As soon as it came and we paid, Daisy rose to leave.

  I made sure to keep my head ducked in the opposite direction as she passed. As soon as they had slipped through the door, Roman grabbed my hand. “Come on.”

  Turned out, we were parked not too far back from them. Traffic was light as we slid out onto the street.

  “Have you ever tailed anyone before?” I said.

  “Lots of times.”

  “Do you think they’ll have any idea they’re being followed?”

  Roman adjusted the rearview mirror. “Not if I do this right.”

  We stayed tucked a car behind them and shadowed their turns until we reached a neighborhood on the outskirts of town. The car stopped at a small house with a white picket fence. Daisy got out, and the car pulled away.

  She waddled up the steps, unlocked the door and went inside.

  “That was interesting,” I said.

  “Very,” Roman said. “Looks like you might have been right about the mystery man. Not her husband.”

  “So who was it?”

  Roman nabbed a notepad from the console. “Only one way to find out.” He jotted down the tag number before the vehicle drove off.

  I crossed my arms defiantly. “See? I told you I had instincts about this sort of thing. Want to go talk to her?”

  Roman shrugged. “Might as well.”

  He pulled up in front of the house. I had reservations about going inside, signified by my pretzeled stomach, but by the time we reached the front door, soft music was drifting from the house.

  “I guess she won’t mind having a little company,” I said.

  Roman knocked. A moment later the door opened. Daisy stood in her bathrobe, her belly bursting against the knotted belt.

  “Yes?” she said.

  Roman raked his fingers through his hair. “We’re sorry to intrude so late,” he said, flashing his badge, “but we’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened today, if you don’t mind.”