"Not at liberty to say?" I asked. "What are you talking about? Are you a cop?"
Drake nodded, pulling out his phone. "I'm the new lead detective in town. I was hoping to get to know the townsfolk in a more laid back way, but it looks like that isn't happening anymore."
"What is this?" asked Dan, as he and Bridgette pushed their way to the front of the crowd. "Mr. Spinner? Is he okay?"
"Dan, we'll have to talk about this later. For now, I need everyone to get out of the woods." He quieted his voice as someone on the other end of the phone picked up. "This is Detective Drake Robinson. We've got a 10-54 in the woods at the Simpson's place of residence. Please send a team out."
Bridgette looked horrified and started crying. I placed my arm around her and pulled her back into the direction of the bonfire.
"It'll be okay, Bridgette," I said.
"It... It looked like he was killed!" she cried.
It did.
"We don't know that..." I tried.
"The murderer could still be out here!"
They could.
"You've got nothing to worry about," I said. "There are tons of people around."
"T-That didn't help Mr. Spinner!"
It didn't.
"Well, we just heard your detective friend call in more police officers. Mr. Spinner also didn't have Dan here to protect him. Right, Dan?"
"Hmm?" asked Dan. He looked very distracted. "Oh, right. You know no one will get to you while I'm around, Bridge."
Bridgette relaxed a little.
"You've got to calm down some," I said as we made it back to the forest's edge. "You're pregnant now. It probably isn't good for the baby if you are all stressed out."
Bridgette looked horrified again.
"You think I'm hurting my baby?" She burst into tears.
"N-No! I-I meant..."
"Let's get you inside, sweetie," said Dan, taking Bridgette from me. He smiled at me as I mouthed my thanks. "When I get back out, I'll have to end the bonfire. You're more than welcomed to stay with us if you'd like, Zoey."
"I appreciate it, but I'll probably just head home now. This has all been a bit more excitement than I was planning for," I said. "Congratulations again on the baby! That's so exciting!"
"T-Thanks," sniffed Bridgette. "I just wish the reveal was under happier circumstances."
"Don't worry about it," I said. "Feel free to take tomorrow off if you need it."
"I'll be fine. Thanks, Zoey."
I left them and went for my car. I let out a sigh as I sat down and started up the engine. What a night.
Leaving the party, I made the drive back to my house. I had no idea what to make of it all. Twistchapel wasn't some paradise where murders never happened, but I'd never been so close to one before. I don't think I've ever even known somebody who was killed. I was a bit bothered that I didn't feel more remorse, but I had never liked Mr. Spinner. Neither did most of the town. Detective Drake was going to have a difficult next few days and weeks figuring out who did it. So many people would've had a motive. I was glad it wasn't my job to figure it out.
I parked my car and walked up to my gate, not bothering to repeatedly slam the lock button on my key fob. What was with that woman I saw earlier? Could she have been the one to kill Mr. Spinner, and she was just lying to me?
I shook my head. No, for some reason I just knew the woman wasn't lying to me. There was something about her I just... trusted.
I walked into my house and went to my bedroom, collapsing on the bed next to Bart.
"How was the lame bonfire?" asked Bart, eyes fixed on the TV.
"Someone was murdered."
Bart paused his show and looked back at me. "Come again?"
"Mr. Spinner was murdered near the party," I said.
"You've got to be kidding me!" said Bart, hopping out of his seat. "The one time I don't go somewhere with you the most exciting thing since I've been here happens? Gah!"
"I'm so sorry for you," I said sarcastically.
"Life really isn't fair sometimes," he agreed.
Chapter 5
The next morning, I sat in my office staring down at the new day's paperwork. I was too distracted to focus. Everyone at work was upset about the previous night. Charline wouldn't stop talking to me about some giant black dog she had seen when she opened up the store this morning. To top it all off, Bart wouldn't stop pestering me about the murder.
"Are you up for telling me what happened, yet?" asked Bart from my office couch.
"I don't know," I said. I was too tired the previous night to relive everything again, and told Bart I'd give him the details another time.
"I'm sure I'll see it on the news later, but I want to hear from a first hand account!"
"There's some things that won't be on the news, you can trust me on that," I said. No one else knew about the winged woman. At least, I don't think they did.
"Okay, you can't say something mysterious like that and leave me in the dark," said Bart, hopping onto my desk and standing over my paperwork. "I'm not letting you get any more work done until you tell me what you know."
Sometimes, Bart's cat form really lent itself to his personality.
"Fine," I conceded. "Bridgette and Dan announced they were pregnant, and then we all heard a woman scream."
"I'd scream, too, if I knew someone was going to have a kid. Those little brats are such a pain."
I gave him a look.
"Please continue," he said.
"Anyway, I ran into the woods to see what was wrong. I was the first person there, and saw a strange looking woman. She had really green eyes, and even though it was dark out, a light shone from her face."
"Oh, geez," sighed Bart. "She have wings?"
"She did! She also recognized I was a witch, somehow."
"That's because of your aura."
"My aura?" I asked, sniffing under my armpit. I'm pretty sure I showered that morning.
"Not your smell, your aura. It's something that many paranormal creatures have. You'll start noticing it more when you grow in your powers. The shining face? That's an angel."
"An angel? But she said she was a messenger."
"Wow. Those guys are the worst," he said, shaking his head. "Angel just comes from the old Greek and Latin for messenger. They all know you modern humans refer to them as angels, but they just have to be all mysterious about it."
So angels were real, and I met one. I wonder why one was there when Mr. Spinner was killed. That didn't make any sense unless...
"She was standing over Mr. Spinner's body... do you think she killed him?" I asked.
"An angel? Pssh, no way. They are all a bunch of goody two-shoes. Well, the ones that are still angels, anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"The angels that didn't like doing all the nice stuff all the time broke away. They became what you humans refer to now as demons."
"Demons? They are fallen angels?"
"Yeah. Some of those guys are alright, but most of them you will want to avoid. Especially those that are working with a warlock."
"Warlock?"
Bart sighed. "Look, there's a lot you apparently don't know. If I keep going all day, I'm never going to get to hear the rest of this story."
"Right, sorry," I said. This was much more interesting than I originally thought. Maybe I should get back to learning more magic. "After we talked briefly, she flew away. I looked down at Mr. Spinner, and he definitely looked dead. There were deep cut marks in his chest, but the murderer must have taken the weapon with him. I have no idea why Mr. Spinner walked so deep into the forest alone."
"There's something strange going on here, Zoey," said Bart, pondering over what I had just shared. "Angels do a bunch of weird things, but when they bring attention to a crime... it's almost always one a paranormal being committed."
"What?!" I asked. A paranormal being? Why would they have murdered Mr. Spinner?
"You can't go in there!" shouted Bridgette as the door swun
g open.
The new detective Drake walked confidently into the room, with Bridgette not far behind. He was wearing a gray t-shirt with jeans, a badge hanging around his neck. I didn't hate the look.
"Miss Foster, I need to ask you a few questions about last nigh-Wow, that is an... interesting wallpaper choice," he said, caught off guard by my floral wallpapered wall.
"It won't come off, unfortunately," I said, waving Bridgette off. Bridgette looked confused, but walked away. "What can I help you with, detective?"
"Who's this guy? A human cop?" asked Bart. "He's not going to be able to figure this one out if I'm right."
"Someone is dead, and I have some questions for you," said Drake, closing the door. He gestured to the couch. "May I?"
"Sure, I've got some time," I said. "So Mr. Spinner is officially dead?"
"Unfortunately," he nodded grimly.
"I'm happy to answer your questions, Drake, but-"
"Detective Drake," he corrected.
"What a tool," said Bart.
"I'm afraid I never knew Mr. Spinner very well," I said. "Drake."
"Do you know anyone in his family?"
"His daughter," I said. "It's been a while, but I still consider Sophie a friend."
I fought to keep from wincing. I had forgotten to go and check on Sophie. The news of her father's death surely would've gotten to her by now, and she must have been upset. The two were never extremely close, but it always hurt to lose a parent. I should really go check on her soon.
"Do you think she is capable of murder?" he asked.
"Sophie?" I laughed. "Never. Wait, she's being considered?"
"Of course. His only child, she had a lot to gain financially from his death," said Drake, pulling out a notepad. "I understand that a Mr. Thomas Rollin works here, is that correct?"
"Yes," I said. "And no, there is no way Thomas would've killed Mr. Spinner. He'd never hurt a fly."
"I heard that Thomas and Mr. Spinner got into a shouting match yesterday morning, and if it wasn't for you and Mrs. Simpson, the two might have come to blows. Is that true?"
"I... I'm not sure if I would've put it quite that way," I said.
"Would you say that Mr. Rollin is a good butcher?" he asked.
"The best butcher I've ever seen," I said confidently. I don't care who Detective Drake thought he was, I wasn't going to let him slander my butcher's good name.
"The best in Twistchapel, from what I hear," he continued.
"Absolutely."
"Uh, Zoey..." said Bart.
"Would you say that he is well equipped here at Foster's Market?"
"Of course. He has access to nothing but the best blades."
"Zoey, I don't think you should keep talking up Thomas," said Bart.
"Would you be so kinda as to accompany me to have a quick talk with Thomas?" asked Drake.
"Absolutely," I said, getting up quickly. It was better if I could be there to help calm Thomas down in case Drake was planning on grilling the man.
Drake and I walked briskly to the back of the store, Bart running to keep up.
"Zoey, I'm worried that Thomas might be a main suspect for this cop," huffed Bart.
I nodded, but couldn't say anything with Drake next to me. With the victim being attacked with a sharp object, it made sense that it would come from a knife. It was a horrible coincidence that Thomas and Mr. Spinner had a public fight the day of the murder, but I knew he didn't do it. When Drake got to talk with Thomas, he would surely come to the same conclusion.
Thomas was looking around in the back as Drake and I arrived.
"Hey, Thomas," I smiled. "What are you looking for? An order for a customer?"
"Oh, Miss Foster, I was just about to call you," said the butcher. "I can't seem to find one of my Wusthofs. I've been looking all morning for it, but it's just gone."
Oh no.
"Wusthof?" asked Drake, pulling out his notepad again.
Don't say it Thomas.
"Yes," nodded Thomas. "They are really excellent knives. My Damascus one has gone missing, it appears. I'm terribly sorry, Miss Foster. I know they are so expensive."
Drake wrote feverishly in his notepad as I held my forehead. I wasn't mad about the expensive knife being misplaced. I was upset at how horrible this looked for Thomas.
"Mr. Rollin, did you know Mr. Spinner?" asked Drake.
"Wish I hadn't," said the butcher. "The man was a piece of work. I'm sorry for the family's loss, but to be honest I think Twistchapel is better off. Who are you, by the way?"
"Detective Drake Robinson," said the detective, writing everything down. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back."
I turned back to Thomas as the detective left. "Thomas! What are you doing?!"
"I-I'm sorry Miss Foster," he stumbled. "I-I was just being honest!"
"This isn't looking good," said Bart.
"You didn't kill Mr. Spinner, did you?" I asked bluntly.
"N-No! I would never hurt the man, Miss Foster!" said the butcher. "I would never hurt anyone! You've got to believe me!"
"I do," I sighed. "I do believe you, Thomas. But it isn't looking good for you. Do you have any idea where that knife could be?"
"I-I don't. I've looked everywhere for it this morning."
Drake came back in, this time accompanied by another police office. The other man took out his handcuffs and grabbed Thomas' wrists.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Mr. Rollin, we are placing you under arrest for the murder of Mr. Ed Spinner," said Drake.
"But I didn't do it!" cried the butcher as the police officer took him out.
"How could you do that?" I demanded. "There's no evidence that he killed Mr. Spinner!"
"He's my prime suspect in the case, and he admitted that he thought the town was better off without him. Our murder weapon, which is probably a knife, is no where to be found. Things aren't adding up in his favor."
"You don't know anyone in this town," I said. "No one liked Mr. Spinner! The other things are just a poor coincidence."
"Be careful, Miss Foster," said Drake. "You were the first person on the scene, and claim that you didn't see anyone else before I arrived."
I still believed telling him I had a conversation with an angel wasn't going to fly. Pun not intended.
"What are you trying to say?" I narrowed my eyes.
"I'd hate to find out that you were involved with the murder, and were trying to cover for your employee."
"So now I am a suspect?" I said angrily. "Are you going to arrest me, too?"
"Not at this time," said the detective. "I talked it over with Bridgette and Dan, and they were adamant you weren't involved in this. I'm just advising you to stick to your business here, and let me stick to mine. I know what I'm doing."
I clinched my fist and glared at him. He stared back, a slight grin on his face. He thought he knew what was going on better than I did? I wanted to punch that smug look off of his face more than anything.
"Z-Zoey! Calm down!" shouted Bart. "You're dangerously close to summoning fire!"
"Until next time, Drake," I said, quickly turning around and heading back to my office.
"A pleasure, Miss Foster."
I focused on my breathing to calm down. The last thing I needed was to set fire to my store while a police detective watched.
"We really need to work on your powers," mumbled Bart, a few paces behind me.
I closed the door to my office and stared at my ugly wallpaper. Not only was I out a butcher, but an innocent man was going down for a murder he didn't commit.
I picked up the phone and dialed the main register's number.
"This is Bridgette."
"Hey Bridgette, this is Zoey. Tell Eric I'm going to need him in the meat department when he gets back from lunch."
"Is everything okay with Thomas?" she asked.
"Not right now, but it will be."
I hung up.
"Zoey, if you don't get involved,
Thomas isn't going to get out of this," said Bart.
"I don't know what you expect me to do."
"The normal humans will just assume they got the right guy. If you don't help out by looking at the paranormal side of things, Thomas is going to go down for the murder of Mr. Spinner."
I grimaced. Bart was right.
"Fine," I said, packing up my things.
"Where are we going first?" he asked.
"To Sophie's house. She is Mr. Spinner's daughter, so maybe she'll know something we don't."
"Don't you think the detective has already talked to her?"
"I do, but it'll be good to see what he already knows. Then, I've got another person up my sleeve."
"Really?" he asked. "You didn't tell the detective about a clue?"
"There was a woman named Jill Arnold that fought with Mr. Spinner at the bonfire, but Drake didn't see it happen. She may know more than what she told me when I first talked to her."
"This is what I'm talking about," purred Bart. "Finally, some excitement!"
Chapter 6
Sophie Mann's house was just few blocks away from Foster's Market, so I opted to walk instead of drive. I needed some fresh air to help calm me down.
"What was the deal with the cop?" asked Bart, tagging along with me.
"He's the new detective. His name is Drake, and he has been friends with Dan since college."
"Good thing, otherwise it sounds like you could be in trouble right now."
"What an idiot," I mumbled, fists clinched.
"Zoey, you need to calm down," said Bart, concerned. "Here, I'll give you our first lesson as we walk."
The cat cleared his throat.
"Magic can do many great and many terrible things. This is why there are some good and bad witches. However, these are all outpourings of the individual."
"So you're saying that the magic doesn't make people good or bad, but the people themselves will use it as they see fit?" I asked.
"Correct. Additionally, magic can be summoned through the use of strong emotions. As you've already found more than once, anger can bring about fire."
"Will I always be in risk of making fire when I'm angry?" I asked. That could get really inconvenient really quickly.
"No. The key is to learn how to control the magic that flows through you. That's why witches can still summon fire even when they are happy, sad, bored, and all the like," he said.
The Befuddled Butcher: Twistchapel Cozy Mystery Book 1 Page 3