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Cotton Candy and Corpses

Page 8

by Allyssa Mirry


  Madame Waverly made a noncommittal noise.

  “Much as you don’t like it, I think I am right,” said Lydia. “But I want you to know how much I appreciate what you’re doing.”

  They heard someone enter the building, and Madame Waverly waved the guest into the room to join them. Nellie was smiling but also looked confused as she down at the table.

  “I’m always happy to help you, Madame Waverly,” Nellie said. “But I didn’t quite understand what you meant in your message. What are we trying to do here?”

  “My gifts usually help me to see the future,” the psychic replied. “But today, child, we are going to attempt to delve into the past. I’m hoping to find out what happened to my sister in the psychic sense. I’d like to see if I can glean what happened to Miss Cassandra.”

  “And what is the taffy lady doing here?” asked Nellie.

  “There is power in the number three,” Madame Waverly said. “And this is something that is rather difficult for me. I must draw whatever power I can.”

  “Well, I’m glad to help,” Nellie said.

  “Let us join hands,” Madame Waverly said after dimming the lights.

  The three women held hands, and Madame Waverly stared into her crystal ball on the table. Lydia played along, staring at the ball too.

  “Miss Cassandra, we long to know what happened to you,” said Madame Waverly. “I hope for a glimpse into the past or for you to speak to us.”

  “Did you just hear something?” Lydia asked as a slight creak was heard.

  “No,” Nellie said, though she sounded a little nervous.

  “Crystal ball, show me the answers we long to know,” Madame Waverly crooned.

  “I think the crystal ball just moved,” Lydia said. “Wasn’t that what was used to kill Miss Cassandra?”

  “It didn’t move,” Nellie said, but she was gripping Lydia’s hand very tightly from fear now.

  “Reveal to us your killer,” Madame Waverly said solemnly.

  They all were staring at the crystal ball, so it took a moment for Nellie to notice something slinking towards her – something dressed like Miss Cassandra with outstretched arms.

  When the specter had nearly reached her, Nellie let out a shriek. She jumped up from her seat and then stumbled towards the exit, trembling with fear.

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to kill you. Not really. I just didn’t want you to hurt Madame Waverly’s business. And I didn’t think you were the real deal like her. Please, don’t hurt me.”

  Miss Cassandra’s ghost continued to stalk Nellie until she had reached the door. Nellie ran out onto the boardwalk frantically.

  Lydia looked out the door and saw her run directly toward Leo and Detective Grey, who were making their way toward the shop. She could hear bits and pieces of Nellie’s confession. She smiled, knowing that her plan had worked. Then, she turned to face the ghost.

  “Good work, Kelsey,” Lydia said. “You were very convincing.”

  Kelsey grinned. “I definitely didn’t get this part because I would play it cutely. And I’m glad I was able to take a more active role in your investigations.”

  “Don’t get too used to it though,” Lydia said. “I was banking on Nellie’s superstitions, but I knew there was a chance I might have to leap across the table to protect you. Luckily, Madame Waverly’s crystal ball is attached to her table.”

  Madame Waverly fell into a chair, looking grim. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lydia said, moving closer to her. “I know you didn’t want this to be true. I know you really liked Nellie.”

  “She was a wonderful customer and a friend,” Madame Waverly said. “I counseled her many times from this room.”

  “I think what she did came from how much she cared about you,” said Lydia. “She just displayed it in an awful and misguided way.”

  “Talk about a crazed fan,” Kelsey muttered.

  “How did you know it was her?” asked Madame Waverly, looking up at Lydia with sad eyes.

  “The injury she had on her arm,” Lydia explained. “She told us that you forewarned her but that she still sustained it while gardening. That was a story she made up to explain her cuts. But when I was cleaning up my house, I came across a small garden hoe. Mine only had three prongs. I think most of them only have three or four. That got me thinking about the five lines of scratches on her arm that she described. I realized that this injury could have been sustained from Miss Cassandra scratching her. She put up a fight before she was finally killed and she had long, red nails.”

  “I should have seen this before,” Madame Waverly said, sounding forlorn. “I knew Nellie, and I’m supposed to see the future. How could I have missed this?”

  “Sometimes we have blind spots when it comes to people we care about,” Lydia said. “But I’m just glad that your prediction about me fighting for my life didn’t come true.”

  “Oh, that,” Madame Waverly said, dismissing the idea. “I just told you that because you had upset me when you accused me of being a suspect. But I see now you weren’t far off the mark.”

  “You do face killers more than the average person,” Kelsey said. “It’s not a crazy prediction to tell you. In fact, it’s probably accurate and will happen again soon.”

  “Thanks,” Lydia said with a note of sarcasm in her voice.

  Madame Waverly resumed her mystical façade that had been fading with shock. “Before you leave, my child, let me give you a real reading. To thank you for solving what happened to another psychic.”

  “I don’t think I need a reading,” Lydia protested. “I can read my own palm. It’s going to get sticky with taffy.”

  “I think I do see something else in your future besides candy,” Madame Waverly, placing a hand near her forehead as if receiving a vision. “But something that is also sweet. I see love in your future. True love.”

  “Well,” Lydia said with a slight smile as she hoped who this might apply to. “I like this better than your last prediction.”

  Epilogue

  “Oh,” Lydia said, sounding surprised as she opened her front door and stepped onto the porch. She hadn’t expected to see Leo there. “It’s you.”

  “Sorry to come over unannounced,” Leo said. “But I looked through the scrapbook like you told me I should.”

  “And?”

  “And Uncle Edgar put a lot of effort into that book. And it was all about me. With the little notes he wrote and seeing his smiles in the pictures of us together – well, it is pretty clear that he did love me.”

  “Glad you figured that out, detective,” Lydia teased.

  He deflected the mocking by responding with, “Yes. Please remember that I am the detective around here. I am grateful that you convinced Nellie to confess to Miss Cassandra’s murder and that for once you weren’t nearly killed while chasing down a killer, but you should quit while you’re ahead. No more sleuthing.”

  “I only get involved if I have a good reason for it,” said Lydia.

  “I guess that’s the best I’m going to get,” Leo said with a sigh. “But you know what? There’s something else I want to tell you. About scrapbooks.”

  “You saw the pages that Uncle Edgar dedicated to your career?”

  Leo nodded. “There were pages and pages about all the cases I solved and my work in the community. I think he saved every newspaper clipping that ever mentioned my name. And he labeled it as: Leo Living His Dream. I think you were right, Liddy. I think he left the inheritance the way he did because he knew you and Aunt Edie needed help with your dreams after he was gone, but he knew that I was happy where I was.”

  Lydia gave him a hug. “I’m so glad you think so too. Do you think you feel back to your old self?”

  He nodded. “That psychic is not messing with my head anymore.”

  “Detective Grey will be pleased.”

  “And something else. I’ve decided that I’m going to continue with Uncle Edgar’s hobby of scrapbooking. I�
��m going to make one to house all the postcards that Aunt Edie sends us from her travels. You got the latest one with the polar bears, didn’t you? Where she told us to stay cool despite our warm weather here. And maybe I’ll even make a scrapbook about your taffy shop and how well it’s doing.”

  Leo trailed off and suddenly stared at his sister.

  “What’s going on? Your hair isn’t in that weird bun, and it’s actually been done. And you’re in a dress.”

  “Should I make another comment about you being a detective?” Lydia teased.

  “I’m interrupting something?” asked Leo. His eyes widened, and he tried not to laugh at the same time.

  “No. But my friend should be here any minute.”

  “Friend?” Leo asked, raising an eyebrow.

  It was then that Daniel Brine arrived at her house. He parked his truck and walked up to her porch. Leo grinned as he saw the two of them together.

  “Are you ready for the Symphony?” Daniel asked Lydia.

  She nodded. She made sure that Sunny was settled and her door was locked. She rolled her eyes as Leo reminded Daniel that he was a police officer, so Daniel better take care of his little sister. However, if truth be told, she couldn’t have been happier.

  Also by Allyssa Mirry

  The Sticky Sweet Series

  Book 1: Pineapple and Poison

  Book 2: Double Chocolate and Death

  Book 3: Cinnamon Swirl and Suspicions

  Author’s Note

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