by Cindy Stark
Her shoulders slumped in relief, and she gave Hazel a grateful smile. “I’m so lucky that God graced me with friends like you. Thank you so much for being here for me through this ordeal. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Hazel beamed as warmth and goodness spread through her. She loved helping people. “I’ll be right back.”
She steeled her nerves as she descended the stairs, not wanting to go back into the angry beast’s lair once again. The lashing she’d taken the first time around was enough to make a lesser woman cry. But, surprisingly, Mrs. Jones said nothing and quickly located both items along with a glass of water for Hazel and sent her on her way.
The woman was a conundrum. Hopefully, she wasn’t a murderer, too. At least Hazel had no reason to think Florence would be in danger from her. Mrs. Jones had hated Mr. Winthrop and saw his wife as a victim, the same as her sister.
“Here we are.” Hazel handed two pills and the water to Florence before she set about making her a nice cup of soothing tea.
When she handed her the cup, Florence eyed the tea service. “You’re not having some with me?”
“Not this time, I think. Let’s just focus on you for now.” She tucked the bedcovers tighter against Florence before she dragged the closest chair nearer to the bed.
Thoughts of warning her about Teddy repeated in her head like a squawking crow, but she couldn’t bring herself to add more stress to the poor woman. “How has your day been? Any other visitors?”
Florence swallowed. “No. Teddy promised to stop by but hasn’t yet. If he does now, he’ll just have to come back tomorrow. When you leave, will you let Mrs. Jones know I’m not up for visitors for the rest of the day?”
“Of course.” That would give Hazel a little time to decide what to do. As much as she’d hate to ask, maybe Peter could give her some good advice.
“I think I wore myself out going through Albert’s papers this morning. That man might have been a lot of things, but organized, he was not.”
“I’m happy to come over an afternoon here and there to help if you’d like.”
She graced her with a warm smile. “You are always so good to me. If I’d had a daughter, I would wish for her to be just like you.”
“You and Mr. Winthrop never had children?” Hazel wasn’t aware of any, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist.
“No. I miscarried twice, and then was never able to conceive again. I’ve accepted it now, but there were days when I longed for a child more than anything.”
“I’m sorry. That must be hard.”
Disappointment lingered with sadness on her features. “I must say my life certainly wasn’t what I expected when I’d agreed to marry Albert all those years ago. You make sure when you pick a man that you pick the right one.”
Hazel nodded, wondering if she referred to her choice between Albert and Teddy. “I will.”
Florence sighed and handed her cup to Hazel. The effects of her special tea were working, and Hazel felt better at seeing relief replace the harsh effects of pain on the poor lady’s face. “Rest well,” she said and patted her hand.
Within a few moments, deep, restful breaths rumbled from the woman’s chest. Hazel stood, proud of a job well done. She might not be a scientist or create machines that could fly a man to the moon, but she helped others, and in her mind, that was just as important.
And no one ever, ever, could convince her that using her gifts to enhance her quality of care was a bad thing. Look at the difference between Florence now and when she had arrived.
Satisfied, she dragged the chair back to its original position, pausing when she spied a small, diamond-cut blue pill lying in the divot where one of the chair’s legs had rested. She bent to pick it up, examining the slick, shiny surface.
It wasn’t one of Florence’s. Hazel had helped her take her medicine enough times that she would have remembered that specific color. But then who?
She thought of placing it on the table where they’d often drank tea, but her gut urged her to pocket it instead. Her instincts rarely failed her.
Seventeen
Instead of heading back to the shop, Hazel called Gretta to let her know she’d be a bit longer. Then promptly placed a call to Stonebridge’s Chief of Police.
“Hello?” Of course, his voice sounded deeper, more alluring over the phone.
“Peter? It’s Hazel. I was wondering if we could meet.”
A soft chuckle came from his end. “Decided to take me up on my offer after all?”
His words could have come across as creepy, but they didn’t. “No, but I do need to ask you something. I don’t want to stop by your office or have you come to my house.”
“Eventually, you’re going to have to accept that people will talk about us.”
She snorted. “There is no us. Now, will you meet me or not?”
“I’m here for whatever you need. Do you have a place in mind?”
There were a lot of remote locations in and around Stonebridge but none that she knew particularly well. She’d always stuck close to the center of town. “How about near that abandoned house on Hemlock? It’s a dead end, so I wouldn’t expect traffic, would you?”
“No. My officers and I patrol it once or twice a day, but most others avoid that area all together. When?”
“I’m on my bike, so give me fifteen minutes, okay?”
“I’ll see you soon, Hazel.”
The line went dead, and she tried to shake off the sizzle of excitement he always left her with. This was business. Serious business, and she needed to keep her mind on that.
Hazel arrived before the chief did, and, like before, experienced the incredible peace radiating from the grove of trees along with the compelling pull from the house. She hid her bike as before and walked toward the large mass of maples and pines.
Pinecones and pieces of dried leaves from the previous fall lay scattered across the wild grasses. Columns of sunlight here and there pierce the overhead canopy and created interesting patterns on the ground.
She closed her eyes and breathed in pure energy. It seeped into each pore and cleansed her soul of all the hurt she’d absorbed during the past few weeks along with all the worry she’d created herself. Some called this a tree bath. She called it pure bliss.
A presence entered her senses, and she opened her eyes, expecting Peter had somehow managed to sneak up on her.
But no one was near.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of ginger-colored fur a good ten feet away and narrowed her focus on the two intense green eyes staring at her. “Oh, there you are. So, you do have a way in and out of the house.”
The beautiful cat continued to stare.
“I still haven’t forgiven you.” She rubbed her elbow that still ached from time to time.
He flicked his tail as though annoyed but otherwise didn’t move.
“I can see that you don’t trust me anymore than I trust you, so why don’t you just scoot along?” She flicked her fingers at him in encouragement.
The sound of a vehicle approaching drew her attention. Peter. She cast another glance at the cat. “Go,” she whispered vehemently.
Of course, he refused.
She turned her back on the stubborn cat and walked closer to the road. Peter greeted her with a warm smile as he emerged from his car, and she found herself returning the gesture.
“I’m glad you called,” he said as he joined her. “After the morning I had, I need a pleasant distraction.”
So, that’s what she was, a pleasant distraction. She weighed the words and deemed them okay. Certainly could be worse, like the love of his life.
“Can we walk a little? Into the trees?” she asked.
“You really are worried about being seen. Am I that bad?”
“No,” she said before she could stop herself. “I just don’t like being the favorite topic of conversation for the day, especially when everything they say is all lies and speculati
on.”
“Lies and speculation, huh?”
She shrugged and began walking. He followed alongside her. She supposed pleasant distraction was a nicer way of putting their so-called relationship, but she wasn’t willing to take back her words now.
Instead, she pulled the little blue pill from her pocket and laid it out in her palm. “Do you know what this is? I found it a little while ago in Florence’s room. I probably shouldn’t be so nosy, but I’m certain it’s not hers.”
He snorted. “No, that’s definitely not hers.”
She drew her brows together in confusion.
“It’s Viagra. What older men take if they need help in the bedroom.”
“Ohhh…” She drew out the word, recalling now the jokes she’d heard when hanging out at a bar near her hometown, and people’s references to a blue miracle pill.
Really, she wasn’t that naïve.
As her feet crunched leaves and pinecones, she tried to piece together how this find would fit into the puzzle. “I don’t get it.”
She flicked a glance toward Peter who had his focus on the path ahead. “Florence has made it clear several times that she and Mr. Winthrop haven’t shared a marital bed in quite some time. We both know that he did with Rachel at least, but then why would he have his pills in Florence’s room?”
Peter remained quiet for a spell, and she guessed he was working with this new bit of information as well. After a few moments, he stopped abruptly.
She did the same and turned to him.
“Maybe it’s not Mr. Winthrop’s,” he said.
Her pulse leapt with the thrill of discovery, and she widened her eyes. “Maybe it belongs to Teddy, and there is more than what they’re telling.”
He grinned. “You’re really cute when you get excited over something.”
She released an exaggerated groan. “Stop flirting and focus on the topic at hand. This is a murder investigation, remember? A man is dead.”
His smile remained in place. “Don’t worry. I remember. Viagra. Possibly Teddy and not Mr. Winthrop.”
“The question is, how do we find out who it belongs to?”
He nodded toward farther into the woods. “Come on. I know a place we can sit and think. It’s not far.”
They hiked another quarter of a mile through thick trees. At one point, his fingers brushed hers, and for a second, she thought he’d try to take her hand. But the moment passed with no further action, and she shook off the spark of electricity he’d generated.
Ahead, Hazel spotted a small area that had been cleared of trees, and every sense she had skyrocketed. Her heartbeat kicked in to overdrive without warning, and she gasped.
“Beautiful, huh?” He watched her, and she tried not to overreact, but this was quite literally the most incredible place she’d ever been. Her connection to the Blessed Mother was the strongest she could recall.
“It’s breathtaking.” To say the least.
Several benches constructed of rock and smooth wood surrounded the outer edges of the clearing. In the center, the remains of what must have been a large bonfire lay charred and lifeless. Tufts of spring grass grew everywhere the sun would reach.
Peter led the way to one of the benches, and they sat.
Without a doubt, her grandmother and several other witches had practiced their craft here. The area vibrated with so much energy. “How did you find this place?”
“My wife and I stumbled upon it one day when out for a walk. It became one of our favorite places to picnic.”
“I can see why. It’s magnificent.”
“And of course, I’ve been called to the area in recent years because teenagers also discovered it’s a great place to have a drinking party. Hence, the big bonfires. The kids should realize they give them away. They think the fires are hidden by trees, but smoke rises.”
She chuckled and then sighed. “Kids will be kids.”
“Yeah. At least they’re harmless.” He shifted on the bench so he faced her. “My gut is telling me it’s Teddy.”
“Really?” She bounced her heels on the ground, which for some reason helped her to think better. “I want to agree. Things are really pointing at him, but… Can you get access to his medical records? See if he has a prescription?”
Peter rubbed the backs of his fingers across the scruff on his chin. “I’d have to have enough of a compelling reason to convince a judge to issue a warrant. I’d want to search his house, too. My second option is to bring him in again and question him, but after his belligerent attitude this morning, I doubt he’ll cooperate now.”
“Okay. I’m just going to say this. It’s probably nothing, but for whatever reason, it’s still floating around in my mind. Maybe because I found this mysterious pill.”
She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “When I went to visit Florence today, I found her in her husband’s bathroom. She had half the bottles from his medicine cabinet sitting by the sink, and she was in the process of removing more. She said she was looking for ibuprofen because of her bad hip, which wouldn’t be abnormal for her.”
He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Then it’s probably nothing.”
“Probably not.” She fought to release the thought. Hated herself for even going down that road, but she couldn’t let it go. “But when I went to place the new bottle I’d gotten from Mrs. Jones, I found that she already had some in her bathroom.”
He studied her for a long moment with amazing green eyes that had fascinating tiny specks of brown in them. “You think Florence may be involved?”
She drew a strand of hair across her lips, rethinking what she’d just said. “No. No, I don’t believe she could kill anyone.” She tilted her head to the side as thoughts continued to churn. “But there are things that don’t make sense.”
“Like this pill in her room, and her searching his medicine cabinet.” She paused. “You can’t overdose on Viagra, can you?”
He snorted. “It can cause…complications, but it won’t cause asphyxiation.”
She smiled in embarrassment. “So, there’s really nothing she could do with them that would hurt him anyway. It’s a moot point, and we move on. Back to Teddy.”
He lifted a hand. “Not so fast. If she’d somehow coated them with a poisonous substance, she could deliver it that way.”
She shook her head. “I really can’t see her doing that.”
“There’s only one way to tell. Besides, even if that’s how he was poisoned, it doesn’t mean Florence did it. Other people in the house had access. Find his Viagra. At this point, locating his prescription might be easier than checking to see if Teddy has any.”
“Wouldn’t you have to have a search warrant for that, too?”
His lips turned into a sly grin. “I would, but, say, someone who already has access to the house might be able to do a little checking on the side.”
It was her turn to smile. “Is the Chief of Stonebridge asking me to investigate for him? Isn’t that illegal or something? Wouldn’t the evidence be inadmissible?”
He pressed his lips into a thin line and stared up at the trees while nodding. “If a certain concerned citizen was to find something suspicious in a murder victim’s house and look for further evidence, and then present it to the police because she’s worried…”
He shrugged and smiled. “All perfectly admissible. You’d have to testify where you found it and why you decided to look. Obviously, you may want to omit this conversation, but…”
She allowed a pleased smile to curve her lips. “It appears there are some in this town who aren’t as morally strict as I’d originally thought.”
For once, it was his turn to act embarrassed. “Doesn’t having the right outcome forgive a little tweaking the truth along the way?”
Yes, they might be friends after all. “It does in my world. Let’s go see what we can find.”
She glanced at her watch. “Florence will likely sleep most of the afternoon.” If her
tea was worth what she claimed it to be in other circles. “I’ll stop by again, and if anyone questions, I’ll say I left something in her room. I’m there often enough that no one will be suspicious.”
“Good. Let me know if you find anything.”
“Oh, I will. As a concerned citizen, I’ll bring it straight to the chief’s attention.”
“I’ll wait until I hear from you before I send this off to the lab for testing. I don’t want to make this messier than it needs to be.”
They stood and began to retrace their path back to the real world.
One thing still bothered Hazel. “Can I ask a favor, though? If there’s nothing that comes of this, can we keep what we’ve discussed and learned a secret? I don’t want to hurt Florence more than she’s already been.”
“Absolutely.”
She smiled. There might be something decent about this man after all.
Eighteen
As Hazel pedaled her way back to the Winthrop house, she altered between wanting to throw up, cry, or head home and not come out of her house for days. What had seemed like a great idea while she and Peter were in the woods, now seemed like betrayal or worse…a witch hunt.
Florence had been nothing but kind to her, and she couldn’t picture her hurting anyone. Ever. The only reason Hazel continued her quest was to prove once and for all that the lovely woman was as innocent as she seemed.
In some ways, Hazel was acting just like the crazed citizens from Stonebridge’s past, eager to cast blame without regard for the consequences.
Well, that last part wasn’t quite true, but she felt like an awful person anyway.
She parked her bike in the usual spot and by-passed Mrs. Jones in the kitchen by entering through the front door. Something she never would have done while Mr. Winthrop was alive.
The stairs creaked as Hazel ascended. At the end of the hall, she opened Florence’s door to peek in on her. She found the bed empty and froze. Full-fledged panic flooded her as if Florence had caught her red-handed already.