“Don’t mind if I do,” said Greer, sitting down next to him and grabbing a coffee and a scone.
“How’s the investigation going, anyway?” Deacon asked.
All three of us just looked at him.
“What investigation?” Charlie asked suspiciously.
“Oh, come on. I’m a guy, but I’m not an idiot. I know you’re investigating the Jackie Morris murder. Everyone sees you running around town,” he explained, “and some of us draw our conclusions.”
“We rarely run, realistically,” said Charlie.
“True,” said Deacon, grinning and taking another sip of his coffee. “You’re becoming quite the investigative trio, and driving everyone crazy doing it,” he added.
“Who are we driving crazy besides Detective Cutter?” Charlie wanted to know.
Chapter Seventeen
After Deacon left we spent a peaceful morning reading the papers and chatting about the investigation.
“It’s like a monsoon out there,” Charlie cried at one point when she made the mistake of opening the front door.
Below the major articles condemning Gerry for her best friend’s murder all those years ago was another article stating that the Mintwood Mirror planned to reopen the next day.
“The police have gotten all the evidence they need out of the shop,” Charlie read from the article, which Lena had written. “I suppose it’s only fair that she gets to re-open, but will anybody want to go?” she wondered.
“Everyone is going to want to get a look inside that store after what was discovered in the wall,” Greer predicted. “Then Miss Violetta will wow them with her hair-cutting ability and that will be that.”
The ringing of a telephone interrupted Greer’s prophesies.
“Hello?” said a woman’s voice on the other end of the line. “Is this Lemmi?”
“Yes, who is this?” I asked into the receiver.
“This is Miss Violetta. I wondered if you and your friends might be interested in coming over here for dinner tonight,” she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Do you live in town?” I asked, realizing that I had no idea.
“Yes, above the Mirror,” she said.
Shock rolled through me. I’d forgotten about the fancy loft apartment up there, the most expensive rental in all of Mintwood. I had always wondered how nice it was. Now Miss Violetta was going to give us a chance to find out.
We ended up making the date, and I hung up the phone in a state of bemusement.
“I’d love to go,” said Charlie enthusiastically. “I always wanted to get a glimpse inside those apartments.”
“How many are there?” I asked.
“Two on each side. Fearne and Frannie have one of them, and I bet their place is so full of stuff you can barely move. I think Andre lives in the one above the gallery.”
“Of course he does,” Greer rolled her eyes.
“Who lives in the fourth? The one next to Miss Violetta’s?”
“I don’t rightly know,” said Charlie, biting her lower lip. “Good question.”
“We seem to have a lot of those these days,” I muttered.
We kept accumulating more questions than answers, and I wondered how long the unanswered questions could keep piling up, especially with a witch in jail and dark witches attacking us.
My friends weren’t happy about it, but I did venture out that day to check on Cesar, who was all alone during a thunderstorm. He was fine, though he clearly wasn’t thrilled about the rain. This was the most placid dog I had ever taken care of. It was a real pity his owner wasn’t as chill.
Once I was safely back home, it was time to tell my friends my big news. We still had a little time before we had to get ready to go see Miss Violetta, and this news wouldn’t keep any longer.
In short, I was excited to fill my friends in on exactly what had happened with Jasper.
“I have something to tell both of you,” I informed them as we were getting ready. The rain was letting up and the sky was returning to a beautiful, sweeping, pale pink.
“Oh, do go on,” said Charlie. The three of us had gathered in my room. It was warmer upstairs, and Greer had flat out said she didn’t like company in her own space. She kept her door closed at all times, and even Deacon wasn’t usually allowed in.
I told them all about confronting Jasper and our subsequent plan to go on a date. I left out the part where I was having a hard time thinking about anything else. I was nearly giddy with anticipation.
“That’s awesome!” Charlie stood up and hugged me, a bright smile on her face.
“Yeah, that’s really great,” Greer added. “Don’t screw it up.”
I made a face at her and she shrugged. “What? You have a tendency to get in your own way. Why do you think it’s taken you this long to go out with him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because he’s Jasper Wolf and could date any girl he wanted to.”
“You could date anyone you wanted to too,” Charlie pointed out.
“Look in the mirror when you say that,” Greer told her. Now it was Charlie’s turn to make a face.
“I’m married to my work,” she replied.
“Just because you and the idiot didn’t work out doesn’t mean no one will,” said Greer.
“He is an idiot, isn’t he?” Charlie fluffed her impossibly straight hair.
“Kind of, yeah,” said Greer. “Don’t worry, though. He’s someone else’s problem now.”
“Anyway, back to Lemmi’s news, I have important questions,” said Charlie.
“I have no idea what I’m going to wear,” I said.
“We know someone who has a lot of beautiful clothes at his disposal. I wonder if we could convince him to open up his shop especially for us,” Charlie mused. “We could go on the way to dinner tonight.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” I said. I’d been going back and forth about whether I was going to get a new outfit for this occasion, and the idea of choosing one from Liam’s shop tipped me in the direction of yes.
“Definitely get a new outfit,” said Greer.
“You read my mind,” I smiled.
When we headed for Main Street, I was all prepared to find Liam and get his help with Project Lemmi Finally Has a Date, but my forward progress was interrupted by the fact that Liam wasn’t at the shop.
“Shall we wait a bit and see if he shows up?” I asked, disappointed that I couldn’t just run in and pick out some clothes on the spot.
“Sure,” said Greer, leaning against the car as if she expected to stay awhile. “Why not? But it’s funny that Liam isn’t around.”
“Maybe Gerry is finally getting out of jail,” Charlie speculated. “If she is, I hope I can get an interview.
“Only after I talk to her,” I said with a warning edge to my voice. Gerry was a witch, and she was now sitting in jail with no visitors allowed. For all we knew she’d been practicing witchcraft at the time when Jackie was murdered, which would explain why she didn’t have an alibi she could mention. That would be bad, because it would make it a lot harder to prove her innocence. Meanwhile, Keith, the only other person we’d found who had any connection to Jackie, was acting fishy. He’d gotten very angry at us when we’d gone to discuss that night, and he hadn’t said a word since.
“What do you think Keith is hiding?” I asked.
“No idea,” said Charlie, “but he clearly knows more than he’s telling.”
“Is the Mike who worked at the barbershop the same as the Mike who was a friend of Jackie’s?” I wondered.
“I think so. The barbershop probably employed teenagers after school to do stuff like sweep the floor,” said Charlie.
“Have you met any ghost Mikes?” Greer asked.
I shook my head. I hadn’t met any Mikes that I could remember, but if we could find a Mike, whether living or dead, he’d certainly be worth talking to. Right now there were too many suspects and no motive that I could see.
&nb
sp; “Should we just go straight up to Miss Violetta’s?” said Charlie, glancing up at the second floor. There was light streaming out of the apartment where Miss Violetta lived.
Greer checked her watch. “We’re really early, so maybe we should wait a bit.”
To kill some time, we walked down the street to the library. I figured I might as well take the opportunity to look up articles about this guy Mike’s car accident.
“He wasn’t there the night she was murdered, was he?” I asked.
Charlie shook her head. “He’s the one that was out of town. The article said that two of her good friends, Gerry and Mike, were absent, but that she was with Keith that night.”
“That’s not good for Keith,” I muttered, especially after how he’d reacted to our questioning.
“He wasn’t the one who was arrested,” Greer pointed out.
The library was due to close soon, so we hurried to look at the old newspaper film. Scrolling quickly along, we found a couple of short articles about the accident and a brief obituary saying that Mike had died suddenly in a car accident.
“Says here that some deer ran across the road and he swerved to avoid them,” said Greer.
“Awww, he tried to save the deer,” said Charlie, sticking out her lower lip.
“He succeeded,” said Greer. “None were hit.”
“It was dark and rainy, so visibility was probably bad,” I said.
“His good friends from high school, Gerry and Keith, both spoke at his funeral, not to mention some of his regulars at the barbershop,” said Charlie, reading over Greer’s shoulder.
“Which suggests that he was still close to both of them right up to the time he died. Maybe Keith just didn’t want to talk to us about what happened,” said Charlie.
“Maybe, but we still need more information and there’s only one person we’re going to get it from,” I said grimly.
“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” Greer asked.
I lowered my voice, even though there was no one else around.
“I’m a witch. If I go in alone, I shouldn’t get caught,” I whispered.
“The only problem is that you can’t go without us and Paws,” Charlie whispered back.
“Practically speaking, I feel like we could go without Paws,” Greer opined.
“No,” said Charlie with finality.
“Oh, fine,” said Greer. “After we see Miss Violetta then?”
I stared at the two of them. It seemed that my friends weren’t going to think twice about breaking into a police station to talk to Gerry. As for me, my heart started to pound at the very thought of it.
For now, though, it was time for us to go to Miss Violetta’s. After we’d made the dinner plans, Greer had headed for the kitchen and whipped up a tiramisu cake to take along as dessert. She fetched it out of the car and we headed across the street.
“It’s a good thing we have Greer to cook, otherwise we’d have to take a bottle of wine,” said Charlie. “Lena talked to Miss Violetta the other day and said she could really use a drink.”
“Given that she found a skeleton in her dream salon, that doesn’t surprise me,” I said.
The door that led to the stairway to the second floor was well hidden, but we eventually found it tucked into a little corner cranny. It opened onto a wide and well-lit hallway.
I was just raising my hand to knock when the door flew open and Miss Violetta stood before us. She was draped in jewels and her hair was various shades of purple. I mean, what else? Her clothes were a deep crimson that matched her lips.
She looked like she was going somewhere very fancy instead of just having the likes of us over for dinner. I suddenly felt very underdressed. Judging by Charlie and Greer’s open-mouthed expressions, they did too.
“Do come in,” said Miss Violetta, graciously ushering us into her spacious, amazing apartment.
No joke, the place was gorgeous. The ceilings were so high I had to crane my neck to examine the way they showcased the beautiful wooden beams. The space was open, with large windows. Miss Violetta had decorated in a flamboyant yet modern style, something you didn’t see around Mintwood very often.
“Do you like the rugs? They’re from Europe,” said Miss Violetta proudly. “Once I saw them I couldn’t let them go. I had them shipped to my apartment in New York and they’ve been with me ever since.”
She smiled, and we all told her how beautiful they were. The rugs were so long and wide that they would have extended beyond my whole living room. I couldn’t begin to imagine how much such beautiful pieces would have cost. But if Miss Violetta was rich, at least she wasn’t snobbish. Look who she’d invited to dinner!
“I’m determined to open the salon again,” she said as we gazed around. “Skeleton be damned. It’ll be a tourist attraction. I can’t go back to New York City! I just can’t!”
“What’s so bad about New York City?” I asked.
“There’s nothing wrong with it per se,” she hedged. “It’s just . . . my life is here now. See, I’ve already decorated.” She embraced the living room with one sweeping arm.
“That’s definitely a reason to stay,” said Greer.
“Here, come sit down and tell me what the town thinks while we have dinner,” Miss Violetta said, ushering us over to a splendidly set table and motioning us to be seated.
Not knowing what else to do, we sat quietly until Miss Violetta urged us to help ourselves to the dishes she’d set out. “Let’s not stand on ceremony,” she suggested.
Greer had been worrying that since Miss Violetta was from the city, what she called food would be unrecognizable to practical folks like ourselves. But the spread looked amazing.
There was pesto pasta, a big salad, garlic bread dripping with butter, and black chocolate cake for dessert.
Once we had filled our plates and then some, our host asked again what was going on in town.
“What do you mean?” Charlie asked. She was always very careful when answering questions. As a journalist, she knew the power of her words.
Miss Violetta leaned forward conspiratorially. “The town didn’t want a hair salon here, except that they did. I saw the look on Mrs. Barnett’s face. She was delighted that a real salon had finally opened. Other customers were too, they were just afraid to admit it.”
I coughed. Miss Violetta had known all of that? No wonder she had opened the place.
“Everyone likes a nice sprucing up once in a while, and Mrs. Barnett, bless her, was not a hairdresser by trade. Her coffee is too good for her to do both,” Miss Violetta continued.
“People can be good at two things if they want,” said Greer.
“Certainly they can, but you can see that Mrs. Barnett loves the Daily Brew above all other things. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have stepped on her toes if she had loved cutting hair. There’s nothing wrong with a healthy dose of competition, after all. But that fact is, she doesn’t,” Miss Violetta concluded proudly.
“So what is it you want from us?” I asked.
“Will the town support the salon if I re-open?” She looked fearful now. “The first hair salon in town is one thing, but a skeleton in the wall . . . the poor girl,” she said with a shake of her head. I was reminded of the neat stack of Gazettes I’d seen on the side table when we came in. Clearly Miss Violetta was keeping up with the news of the day.
The three of us exchanged looks.
“This is the best town in the world,” said Charlie, “and people are very forgiving. It’s not like it was your fault the skeleton was there. In fact, if you hadn’t opened the store she might never have been found, and people would still be wondering what ever happened to Jackie Morris.”
“Really, you did the town a favor,” said Greer.
“Thank you.” Miss Violetta’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I just don’t know that it’s enough.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“The skeleton in the wall isn’t something I can easily
recover from. It all hinges on what happened to that poor girl.”
“I still don’t understand,” I said. From the looks on Charlie and Greer’s faces, neither did they.
“If the murderer is caught and brought to justice,” said Miss Violetta patiently, “my little hair salon can exist as a monument to justice. But if the murderer isn’t caught, I’m afraid I’ll have to leave town.”
“Are you saying you don’t think Gerry did it?” Greer asked sharply.
“Of course she didn’t do it,” said Miss Violetta. “That poor woman could no more kill someone than I could. Now we just need to find out who did.”
In the end we had a very hard time extracting ourselves from Miss Violetta’s velvet clutches, but eventually Charlie pretended that she had urgent reporting to do and that seemed to do the trick.
“Oh, do go and investigate. Find out everything you can! As soon as possible! Clear that poor woman’s name,” said Miss Violetta, waving us off as we left the apartment.
“Do you believe her when she says she doesn’t think Gerry did it?” Greer asked as we headed back across the street toward the Beetle.
“I think she wants her business to survive, and the only way that’s going to happen is if Gerry is innocent,” said Charlie.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“It’s obvious. Gerry is a local, and a beloved one at that. If she committed the murder, no one is ever going to set foot in that hair salon again. But if it turns out to have been someone else, an outsider, some ruffian, as Miss Violetta probably imagines, than the Mintwood Mirror will become a monument to Jackie and all that is wonderful about a small town. I’m not saying it’s the right logic, but I’m pretty sure it’s her logic.”
“Shouldn’t she just want justice for the murder victim, whoever the killer turns out to be?” Greer asked, looking disgusted.
“That’s what we’re here for. Wherever it might lead us,” I said grimly. None of us said a word for a while after that; we just stood next to the car in deep thought.
“All right, what now?” I asked at last.
As we looked around, we realized that we had stayed at the hairdresser’s apartment for so long that everyone else had long ago left Main Street and gone home for the night.
Witch Raising Situation (Witch of Mintwood Book 5) Page 11