by Vella Day
“I would tell you more, but I don’t know much. I’m waiting to see what everyone else learns,” he said.
“Fine. I’ll fix you some leaves, but next time, please be honest with me.”
After I set out something for him to eat, I grabbed my keys and phone, ready to head out on my fact-finding mission. Once downstairs, I asked Aunt Fern for a ten-dollar gift certificate. I thought it would be fun to be the welcoming committee of one.
Chapter Two
With my gift card in hand, I headed across the street to the sheriff’s department, surprised at the number of people out and about. Were they all here to watch the agility competition? I couldn’t think of another explanation. At some point, I planned to go to the park and see what it was all about.
Other than to welcome the deputy to Witch’s Cove, and mentally record my first impression, I wasn’t sure what I would say to him. Asking too many questions would raise a flag since he’d surely wonder why I was so curious.
Regardless of what I asked, the deputy would probably think I was weird. Being a good detective, he’d ask Pearl or the sheriff about me. In either case, I hope they’d both say I was merely eccentric. If I was really lucky, Steve would admit that I had helped solve two recent crimes. (To be honest, without my help, I’m not sure if he would have figured out either case.)
I inhaled to fortify my courage and then pushed open the door, expecting to see Pearl either knitting at her desk, chatting on the phone, or flipping through some pages in an attempt to look busy. Instead, Jennifer Larson was at the reception desk. Darn. I really needed to memorize Pearl’s schedule.
I liked Jennifer, a young mother of two, but it was just that if she knew any gossip, she wasn’t the sharing type. As unobtrusively as possible, I looked around for the new guy but didn’t see him—or the sheriff for that matter.
“Hey, Jennifer. Where is everyone?” I didn’t want to ask for the deputy specifically.
She smiled. “Both Nash and Steve are at the park.”
Nash? That was an interesting name. “They’re into dogs?”
She chuckled. “No, they are there for crowd control.”
“I haven’t been to the event yet, but the streets sure are crowded. I had no idea so many would show up.”
“The organizer told Steve to expect over a thousand people.”
I whistled. The town of Witch’s Cove only had about two thousand inhabitants. “Good to know. It’s no wonder the Tiki Hut was swamped today.”
“I imagine it will be that way for the next few days. Ted told me that the Magic Wand Hotel had been booked for this event for weeks.”
His hotel would only hold a fraction of the newcomers. “Where are the rest staying?” We only had a few smaller motels on the edge of town.
“That I couldn’t say.”
I probably wouldn’t learn anything by sticking around, so it was best to leave. “Thanks for the info.”
Next, I headed out to the park, which sat at the end of the main row of establishments. It wasn’t a large piece of land. A thousand visitors would put a strain not only on the parking, but on the bathrooms as well. I imagined all restaurants and shops would get a lot of traffic, too, asking to use their facilities. Most wouldn’t mind, but like all towns, we had our share of curmudgeons.
As I approached the area where people congregated, my right sandal sunk into the slightly muddy grass. Ugh. It had rained last night, and the sun had yet to dry out every nook and cranny. I never should have worn my good shoes, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from meeting the new guy in town. As I scoped out the area, my chances of even seeing the dogs appeared to be slim. Witch’s Cove should have built bleachers or something.
While crowded, finding Steve Rocker wasn’t hard. At six-feet four, the guy was a bear of a man, and as such, easy to spot. Both he and another man, who was about thirty-five, were standing off to the side. Given the man’s matching uniform, I concluded he must be Nash from Montana.
With my excuse in hand, I walked up to them. “Sheriff, nice day for a dog show.”
His pretty eyes shone. “It is, but I thought you were more of the exotic pet type of person.”
Iggy would like the exotic part of the comment, but not the pet part. “I am.” Before Steve could tell me both he and Nash were busy, I turned to the newcomer. “Hi, I’m Glinda Goodall. My aunt owns the Tiki Hut Grill.” I handed him the gift card. “Welcome to Witch’s Cove.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you, ma’am.”
Not many things in life really bothered me, except for being called ma’am. “My mom and aunt are ma’ams. I’m just Glinda.”
“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to offend.”
Steve glared at me. That was my cue to shut up. “No problem,” I said. “Do you have a name?”
I felt stupid asking, but he should have offered.
“Nash Solano.”
“Deputy Solano, nice to meet you.”
“Okay, Glinda,” Steve said with a small lift to his lips. “I need Nash to concentrate.”
If that wasn’t a subtle hint to leave, I don’t know what was. Or did he mean I was the distracting type? I inwardly laughed, liking that idea better. “I hear you. I hope to see you around, Deputy Nash.”
“Looking forward to it, ma—Glinda.”
Not wanting to overstay my welcome, I left. Instead of returning home, I tried to get a view of this agility course for the dogs. After winding my way around a few people, I was able to see what the big hullabaloo was about. The cordoned off area had one dog and two people inside. One person looked like the owner, since he was running alongside of the pooch. The other, a pretty woman, appeared to be a coach of some sort. I will have to say, she had good taste in clothes since she was wearing a pink and white bandana around her neck.
The golden retriever was weaving around poles that jutted up from the ground.
The dog sure did seem to know where to go even without the owner’s help—an owner who shouted encouragement. Once through that obstacle, he coaxed the dog to walk on some kind of seesaw. The retriever ran up the plank, waited for the board to change direction, and then ran down. I was impressed. My favorite obstacle was what looked like an accordion tunnel that the dog ran through. The only time the dog slowed down was when he had to jump through a rather small hoop. I was happy to see he executed it with no problem.
The six dogs on the sideline, obediently sitting next to their trainers/owners, appeared to be waiting for their turn to practice. Every once in a while, the pretty female coach would make a suggestion. I could only imagine what the stuffy man who owned Mittens would do when a woman instructed him. He’d scoff for sure and probably tell her he’d been doing these courses far longer than she was alive. I just loved making up stories about people.
As entertaining as this was, I had work to do—as in I needed to find Jaxson and ask for his help. My best male friend’s brother was a whiz at the computer. He’d helped with my last case, and I was hoping he might volunteer for another round.
Was it any of my business asking him to research Nash Solano? No, absolutely not, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t. I was sure the city council had vetted him inside and out, but even Steve had been friendlier when we first met. That could have been because he’d visited Witch’s Cove in the past, and Nash was a first timer.
I did, however, owe my aunt and her helpful friends to learn more about the new deputy. The five gossip queens had been integral to my success in finding who had killed the first deputy and then who had killed Morgan Oliver, nephew to Floyd Paxton, a local rancher.
Happy to get away from the crowd, I walked back toward the Howl at the Moon Cheese and Wine Emporium. I didn’t know for sure if Jaxson would be there, but I thought he might be since today was Friday—a busy day for the shop.
After wiping off the mud from my shoes on the entrance mat, I went in. Three people were there. One was browsing, another was asking Drake, the owner, a question, and the th
ird was waiting patiently for a moment of Drake’s time. Not wanting to disturb him, I headed to the back without saying anything. If Jaxson wasn’t there, I’d exit out the back and head home.
To my delight, Jaxson was hauling in some large boxes from the outside. “Hey,” I said. “I thought the delivery men came through the front door.”
“Normally he does, but not today for some reason.”
I watched Jaxson move gracefully around the counter to the back room. “What’s up?” he asked.
I probably shouldn’t disturb him when he had a job to do, but after he finished work, he might like to do a little digging.
“I wouldn’t say I’m the most intuitive person, but I just met the new deputy,” I said.
“Oh, yeah? What’s he like?”
From his tone, Jaxson still harbored some ill will toward legal authority. I couldn’t blame him since he had spent three years in jail for a crime he hadn’t committed.
“Reserved. Or maybe he was just being cautious on his first day.”
“Cautious is good. Anything else?”
“That’s why I’m here,” I said. “If anyone can dig up dirt on him, it’s you.”
Jaxson’s demeanor changed from guarded to pleased. “What’s his name?”
“Nash Solano, and he’s from Montana. I don’t know what town.”
“I’ll check him out. How many law enforcement men in Montana have that name?”
“I hope only one.” I motioned to the shop. “How’s it working out with you and Drake?”
He’d been working for his brother for close to two months. I had noticed a positive change in his attitude right after his prison record had been erased, but doing what his little brother asked couldn’t have been easy.
“It’s good. It’s not where I want to be in a year, but for now it brings in a steady paycheck.”
“I feel the same way about waitressing.”
His brows rose. “Is that so. I thought you loved your job.”
“I do, but maybe not for the rest of my life.” I wasn’t the type to dwell on the future. Most women my age seemed to focus on getting married and settling down. Not me. I wanted to live one day at a time.
“If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?” he asked.
I hadn’t taken Jaxson as the dreamer. His brother, on the other hand, was different. “I would work with people in some capacity to help them, which is what I kind of do now.”
“It doesn’t bother you that you aren’t using your education?”
Ah, I could see where this was headed. He had studied some law in school, and then had earned a degree in computer science, and yet he was stacking wine for his brother. “You sound like my parents. Honestly, I try not to think about it. I do know that teaching school isn’t for me.”
“So, what would make you happy—taking money out of the equation?”
Where was he going with this? Was he that unsettled with his life and this was a projection of his own desires? “I’m not unhappy now, so that’s not an easy question. But if I have to answer, I’d say I could see myself as a private investigator of some sort, though I wouldn’t enjoy putting my life on the line like Steve does.” I smiled. “Now it’s your turn.”
“I’ve been asking myself that question every day and still haven’t come up with an answer.”
I thought it was rather obvious. “You like finding information on the computer.”
“I do,” Jaxson said. “The problem is that I want to have a say in what I research, which was why becoming a lawyer wasn’t for me.”
“Good to know.”
He smiled. “If you ever figure out what I would excel at, let me know.”
I laughed. “I need to find my calling first.”
“Good luck with that, Glinda.”
Happy to have done my civic duty by spying on the newcomer and getting to know Jaxson better, I was ready to go home and relax. And by relax, I meant filling Iggy and my aunt in on what I’d found out before indulging in a glass of wine and maybe watching some mindless television show.
Chapter Three
Because the Tiki Hut was really busy the next day, I had considered helping out, but since it was my unscheduled day off, I had several things I needed to attend to. Thankfully, Corinne, who was a competent server, would be inside with Penny, and one of the evening shift folks would switch to the day shift on the patio. It would be chaotic for sure, but yesterday had been hectic too. I suspected tomorrow, the day of the show, would be worse, since more visitors would be arriving.
As I gathered my stuff to head out to the dog show, someone knocked on my apartment door. I looked over at Iggy. “Did you invite anyone?” I asked, not really thinking he had.
“No.”
The only way to find out the identity of my guest was to look. The peephole revealed Gertrude Poole was there, hunched over, with one hand on the door jam. Whoa. I never expected her. I pulled it open.
Gertrude was the ancient psychic and former spell master who helped me find Morgan Oliver’s killer. She was panting heavily, which I understood. The stairs leading up to my place were long and steep. They would be especially difficult for someone close to ninety. “Gertrude, come in and sit down.”
“Thank you.” She grabbed my arm to steady herself. I led her over to the sofa and guided her to a seat.
“Can I get you anything? Water, iced tea, coffee?”
“I know it’s early, but do you have any spirits?” The twinkle in her eye was unmistakable.
By spirits, I assumed she meant alcohol. It would have to be wine since I didn’t drink hard liquor. “A bit of chardonnay perhaps?”
She smiled, and her face looked twenty years younger. “That would be wonderful.”
As I hurried into the kitchen to fix her a glass, Iggy jumped down from his perch and rushed over to Gertrude. I could hear the two of them chatting, but I wasn’t able to make out what they were saying. Iggy had snuck out last month to speak with her about Morgan Oliver’s death, and the intel he’d learned from her had been invaluable.
It was always nice for Iggy to find someone other than myself and Aunt Fern to chat with.
Since I was in the kitchen already, I made myself a glass of sweet tea and then gathered a few arugula leaves for Iggy. I returned to the living room with a tray containing his plate as well as both of our drinks. I set the tray down on the coffee table and then handed Gertrude her wine and put Iggy’s small plate on the coffee table. I hoped her need for the spirits wasn’t because she wanted to tell me something that I would find unpleasant. I then placed the tray next to my chair to get it out of the way.
I sat down next to the sofa. “How can I help you?”
“I had a vision.”
Considering she was a psychic, I figured she often had them. I was just glad she didn’t say someone had died and that she needed my help in finding the killer.
Iggy jumped on the coffee table, careful to avoid the glasses and munched on his treat. He always liked to be in the middle of any conversation.
“What kind of vision?” I asked.
“A pink one.”
I almost laughed. I’ve never had a vision, but if I did, I always imagined one of mine would be pink. “Other than the color, what does it have to do with me?” I prayed it didn’t show harm coming my way.
“Visions aren’t exact science, mind you. They are often cryptic and open to interpretation.”
Like Gertrude was being right now. “What was in this vision?”
“Have you been to the park to see the dogs practice for the competition?”
I thought she was about to talk about her vision. If her mind was going, it would be a terrible shame for the witch community at large. “I have. Have you?”
I would never have guessed she’d have had the stamina to walk the several blocks from the Psychics Corner to the Tiki Hut Grill let alone go to the park, though it was possible someone had driven her.
“No, which is
why I thought my vision was rather strange.” She took a large drink of her wine.
Gertrude seemed to like to draw out a story. “What exactly did you see?” I asked.
“One of the dogs in the show had a pink aura around it.”
A pink aura? I’d never heard of anything like that before. Then again, I had little experience with psychic visions. “And you thought of me, because I only wear pink?”
“I did.”
My thoughts shot in many directions. “Do you think I had something to do with the creation of the aura?” I’m not sure I could have made one even if I had tried. I wasn’t the luckiest witch when it came to spells.
“I have no idea,” she said.
This wasn’t getting us anywhere. “What does an aura signify?” I asked.
She shrugged and then downed the rest of her wine. Oh, my. “It could be that dog is in danger, or it might mean the animal is destined for greatness. Visions don’t come with an instruction manual, you know. They are like dreams in a way. You have to interpret them.”
That was her forte, not mine. It appeared as if I wasn’t a key player in her vision then, for which I was thankful. I was curious to know more though. “What did the dog look like? There are seven who are competing.”
“It was a Border Collie.”
Mittens, the dog owned by the well-dressed but standoffish man, was a Border Collie. “Should I warn the owner?”
Gertrude stared off into space and then returned her gaze to me. “I don’t know. I’m here merely to tell you what I saw.”
That wasn’t very helpful. “I shouldn’t take any action then?” If not, why come and tell me?
She smiled and then rose slowly to her feet—a sure sign that our time together was over. “Do what you always do.”
“What is that?”
“Investigate.”
Oh, my. I stood too. Gertrude shuffled toward the door. Fearful she might fall going down the stairs, I wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her.
“Is someone here to drive you back to your office?” Or did she have some amazing powers none of us were aware of—like having the ability to teleport?