Once she was finally ready to talk to anyone, Mimi climbed down the stairs holding a half-empty cup of coffee in her hand in case the man didn’t want to enter and she’d have to talk to him in the doorway.
She unlocked the door to a suit-clad middle-aged man with dark skin and almost black hair with silver strands.
“Morning, sir. I’m Mimi Knotley. I mean, Margaret Marie. And you?”
“Lieutenant Orlando London,” the man replied and shoved a badge right under her nose.
Mimi glanced at the ID. The face on the photo was an excellent reproduction of the face right in front of her. Same dark, weary eyes, same vertical line between his eyebrows.
“Lieutenant,” Mimi repeated, fascinated. Rob rarely used his official title. “How can I help?”
“I’m here to talk about Andrew John Honeycomb.”
Mimi took a sip from her cup. It might have been rude, but this man’s tendency to call everyone by their full names just added to the confusion and chaos in her head.
“You mean Drew Honeycomb from next door?” Mimi asked. “I’ve already talked to the local police.”
“I’m from the state police,” Lieutenant London explained, adding a brief nod. “I wish to talk to you again. More questions and more facts have come to light.”
Mimi sighed. It looked like it was going to be a long morning. And she definitely needed another coffee.
“Oh well, if this is really the case, you’d better come in.” Mimi moved aside to let him in.
“Please follow me upstairs. Would you like some coffee?” she asked as they climbed the stairs.
“No, thank you,” he replied in a staccato way.
“I’ll have another one, if you don’t mind. I need it to think clearer,” she added.
He didn’t reply.
She sat him in the armchair opposite the window. Baxter lifted his head from his own chair, glanced at the visitor, and fell back to sleep.
Good sign…Baxter would have been unsettled if the guy had ill intentions.
With her cup refilled, Mimi plopped onto a third chair.
“So, Lieutenant, what would you like to know?” she asked.
“Tell me everything you told the local police,” he demanded.
She did.
“Not much, as you can see,” she said after she finished.
Lieutenant London pursed his lips.
“One would think you would have known more, having had your shop next door.”
Mimi blinked. Lieutenant London’s rhyming syntax required higher doses of caffeine. She took a long sip from her cup.
“He’s not—I mean, he wasn’t particularly sociable, and at some point I stopped popping into his store.”
“Anyone who knows him better?”
“I think he was quite a loner. As far as I know, he lived in the flat above the store, just like I do. These buildings are pretty similar.”
“Did he spend a lot of time in his shop?”
“I’d say so. Not that I checked on him, but in late fall or in winter, I’d see the light downstairs coming from the bookshop long into the evening.”
“A workaholic?”
Mimi hesitated. “Not so much that as he was escaping into the world of books—but I may be wrong. He was definitely a strange man. How did he die?” she asked, figuring it wouldn’t hurt.
“Strangulation.”
“You mean he hanged himself?”
The vertical line on Orlando London’s forehead deepened.
“No. He was drugged and then hung.”
A freezing chill ran down Mimi’s spine.
“Murdered?” she asked.
“It appears so.”
Lieutenant London left her apartment shortly after this revelation. She reassured him she’d let him know if she heard, saw, or remembered anything of use. Once he was gone, Mimi got on with her day. And since she spent only half a day at work yesterday, she started earlier today to catch up. She also called her friend Sara Domico for help. Following her recent trip to Italy, Mimi had a lot of items to put into the inventory, and Sara was great at this type of detailed job.
Sara arrived eager to help, and to gossip about the recent events.
“Murder?” Sara asked, opening a large cardboard box full of trinkets. Baxter sat by her leg, sniffing the box from a distance. “Are you sure? I’ve heard this was suicide.”
“That’s what the weird police officer said,” Mimi replied, reaching for her inventory book.
“That state police dude sounds really strange. Why would this be a state and not a local matter? Are you sure he was even real?”
“He had a badge that looked real. I texted Rob to ask him, and he replied that yes, Lieutenant Orlando London was real.”
“Hm,” Sara murmured, pulling a pile of decorated plates wrapped in bubble wrap out of the box. “These are pretty,” she said. “Six dinner plates, assorted, look hand-painted.”
“This is a set,” Mimi explained. “Not assorted. They’re hand-painted, so the items differ a little. But going back to Drew, do you know if he had any enemies? I mean, someone who might have hated him this much?”
Sara cut the tape sealing the wrapping material and began unpacking the plates one by one.
“No one comes to mind, really. I think people in town have learned to avoid him.” She paused for a while with a plate in her hand.
“The shelf over there, I’ve got the set listed,” Mimi said, pointing to the desired location for the set. Baxter barked and trotted in the indicated direction. “Well done, Baxter, that’s the one,” Mimi added as her pug stood under the correct shelf, wagging his tail.
He’d become much more involved in the activities around the shop lately. Mimi was quite pleased to see that, as she enjoyed spending time with her dog. Pity he still didn’t like walks in the park!
“Thanks,” Sara replied. “I was just thinking about Drew. Did you know he had a girlfriend?”
“What?”
“Yeah, I know. Strange! But he actually moved to Wickrock Bay for her. He’s from somewhere else in the state and has lived here for a few years.”
Mimi closed her eyes to better focus on her memories.
“Actually, now you said that, I remember a woman in charge of the shop when I first started. Is it her? I haven’t seen her for ages.”
“I think she moved. I’ve heard Portsmouth,” Sara explained. She took the unwrapped pile of plates and carried it carefully to the shelf. Baxter tapped his tail on the shop floor as Sara placed the items.
“She had enough of him, I bet,” Mimi commented.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Life with Drew must have been a nightmare. Did you see his car?”
“No. Did he have a car?”
“Yes. A pile of junk. Inside and out.”
“What do you mean? I’ve never seen it.”
“That’s because he kept it behind that old hotel. You know, the one that was closed years ago. It’s on the way out of town. The mayor told him to move it several times, but he just ignored him.”
“He sure was a strange man, Drew Honeycomb.”
“Growing increasingly so, before his sad end,” Sara agreed. “Mimi, sorry for changing the subject, but could you use your magic to help arrange the items on the shelves?” Sara asked, looking at Mimi over her shoulder. “This way we could speed it up. I’d unpack the treasure and name it, you’d write it down, and magic would put it away. What do you think?”
Baxter barked and wagged his tail.
“See, Baxter is supporting my idea,” Sara commented with a laugh.
Mimi sighed. She didn’t enjoy using her newly discovered unusual abilities in front of anyone. And even though Sara had seen her use her magic a few times, there was always a risk in doing so when the shop was open.
“I’m not sure,” Mimi said hesitantly. “What if someone walks in?”
Sara crossed the room to the main entrance. She flipped the notice on the door to “Sorry, we’re closed�
� and locked the door.
“Here. Done,” she said, rubbing her hands.
“Uh…” Mimi exhaled. Reluctance still filled her chest. It wasn’t really the ordinary people she was concerned about. It was all those strange visitors who seemed to bother her shortly after she practiced her magic for longer than a few seconds.
Practicing was quite fun.
She glanced outside the front window. The street and the sidewalks looked empty. It was a rather dull day.
“Okay, but only a little, and only if it’s you who writes down the inventory,” she said.
“But it’s your inventory, Mimi,” Sara protested. “You should be the one to do it.”
“But you’re so much better at it.”
“It’s not that I’m much better, it’s that you hate it,” Sara replied.
Mimi bit her lip. Sara was right. On both counts.
“A little then,” she conceded. “I don’t want any strange people coming to my door again.”
“Fine. Has anyone been to see you recently?”
“Not since that Reneus Ulzor’s appearance after Cyrus’s case.”
“So it’s been quite a few weeks now.”
“Yeah, I try not to do too much magic at one time. It seems to attract him.”
“Just a little again, then.” Sara clapped her hands and marched to the desk. She took the inventory book from Mimi. “Off you go, unpacking your treasure.”
Mimi crossed to the box. She took a smaller box out and opened it.
“Ah, that’s a cake stand. Apparently crystal,” she said, unwrapping the thin tissue. “Chipped on the edge,” she reported.
Sara wrote it down.
“Where do you think it’ll look best, Baxie?” Mimi asked her pug.
Baxter trotted toward a low, round table by the window.
“Really?” Mimi’s eyebrows shot up. That wouldn’t have been her first choice.
Baxter squealed.
“I think he’s right,” Sara chimed in. “That’s a perfect place for a cake stand.”
“All right then,” Mimi said, picking up the stand. It felt heavy and cold. She imagined the item flying toward the little table, and the stand gently lifted off her hand and drifted in the desired direction.
“Wow! That’s awesome,” Sara whispered. Baxter just watched. When the item touched the smooth surface of the table, it wobbled a little. Mimi tensed. Baxter growled. But the stand corrected itself and stood proudly right in the middle of the table.
“Great job, Mimi,” Sara said. Baxter barked and tapped his tail on the floor—his canine equivalent of applause.
A warm fluttering filled Mimi’s chest. That was probably the biggest and the most fragile item she had sent into the air so far.
She was getting better at it.
They continued unpacking, cataloguing, and arranging the Italian treasure for a little longer. After a few minutes, Mimi switched to human methods, just in case.
“Enough magic.” she said, relaxing her shoulders.
“That was great, thank you. I hope it doesn’t attract too much attention from the magic underworld.”
“Right. I really don’t fancy seeing him or her again,” Mimi sighed.
“Her?”
“Yes, that crackpot woman from a superhero group, or whatever they called themselves. She insisted they had nothing to do with magic. Just superpowers.”
“Ah, okay. Is there really a difference?” Sara asked.
Mimi shrugged. “No idea. I’m scared of even trying to look this stuff up on the internet. That strange man told me they monitor it for such searches.”
“You can’t get away from them, can you? And it’s all just for a few airlifting activities? You have done nothing else but that, right?” Sara looked at her.
Mimi shifted from foot to foot.
“No, not in terms of activities, but I’ve been seeing people’s auras around their heads sometimes.”
Sara’s eyes opened wide.
“Really? What does it look like? Tell me more,” she demanded.
Mimi pressed her lips together. Was it the right moment to share her unusual experience? Even though Sara was her best friend, Mimi still felt uncomfortable disclosing her supernatural abilities. In case people thought she was a crackpot herself.
“Come on, Mimi. You know your secret is safe with me,” Sara urged. “I’d love to have special powers like you.”
“But why?” Mimi asked. “It’s not all that useful. Apart from being seen as a weirdo in modern society and having to hide it from all normal people and all sorts of magic or superhero folk, it’s tiring. I’d rather use my hands and legs to carry stuff around. Fair enough, it’s fun, but moving things with your mind takes a lot of energy. Mental energy. It leaves my head sort of muddled for a while.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that,” Sara replied meekly. “Does talking about magic use that energy, too?”
“Not really.”
“So can you tell me more about those auras? Sorry, I’m really curious. If you don’t mind talking about it.”
“I don’t.” Mimi took a deep breath. She actually appreciated the opportunity to share it with someone who was non-judgmental and could keep a secret. “It’s like…” Mimi paused as Baxter barked.
Someone knocked at the door.
Mimi exhaled and turned around.
Rob and the visitor from the state police! What did they want now?
Chapter 3
“Morning, gentlemen, how can I help?” Mimi greeted the two formally dressed figures, one tall and broad-shouldered and one shorter and slender, standing on her doorstep. Lieutenant London was still wearing the same dark suit as this morning, and Rob was sporting his dark blue uniform, peaked hat included. In Rob’s presence, the visiting officer looked smaller and less impressive.
Rob’s face looked tired. His eyes didn’t shine as they usually did. Mimi’s stomach clenched.
“Morning, Miss Knotley,” Lieutenant London replied. “We would like a word with you, if we could.”
Mimi looked at Rob, who avoided meeting her eyes. “Do come in,” she said and moved aside, gesturing them in. Lieutenant London marched in, and Rob followed him, but there was much less spring in Rob’s step. Baxter sat right in the middle of the shop, no welcoming bark, but also no growling. Strange…
Something was definitely off.
“Eh-hem,” Lt. London cleared his throat.
Mimi stared at him.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” she asked.
What was he waiting for?
“In private, if possible,” London replied without looking at her.
“Oh, I forgot,” Mimi said, trying to ignore the tingling growing on her face. This was not the time to forget social graces. “This is my friend Sara Domico. I have no secrets from her.”
Rob sighed. London squared his shoulders. “I must insist, Miss Knotley.”
“Margaret Marie,” Mimi murmured and immediately regretted it, as Lt. London threw her a dagger of a stare. She bit her tongue again, this time to stop it from sliding out of her mouth to stick out at him.
What a pompous man!
“That’s okay, Mimi,” Sara said, moving toward the door. “I was going to leave soon, anyway. Got my shop to open. It’s nearly time.”
It wasn’t, and Mimi opened her mouth to protest.
“Thank you, Sara,” Rob said.
Mimi glanced at him, hoping he’d read her silent “what-the-heck-is-that-all-about” message. But if he did, he ignored it. He opened the door for Sara, who gracefully left. Rob closed the door behind her.
“I believe you’ve already met my colleague, Lieutenant London?” Rob asked, his face still tense and otherwise indecipherable.
“Had that pleasure this morning, as you well know,” Mimi fired back. “I’ve told him all I know. So what is this visit about?” she asked, letting a note of irritability seep into her voice. “It’s quite inconvenient.”
“Is it?” Lt. London raised his voice and his eyebrows. He clasped his hands behind his back and was standing now, slightly rocking on his heels.
Mimi wondered if this was a way for him to feel a little taller than he was. Particularly compared with Rob.
Buffoon!
She pulled all the politeness she had left in her together.
“It is, as I have a business to run. First you wake me up and insist on interviewing me at seven a.m., and now you want to talk to me again, interrupting my work. What is it this time?”
“Additional information has come to light and I need to reconsider certain aspects of the case,” Lt. London replied. “I apologize for any inconvenience caused. If you prefer, I can return at another, more suitable time.”
Mimi shook her head.
“You’ve already interrupted my day. We may as well get on with it. But I have a question. Why is it you, not Rob—I mean, the local police—conducting the investigation?” Mimi rushed to correct herself. She so wanted to call Rob by his full title, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember what his designation was! Detective? Police Chief?
“Sorry, we should have been clear from the beginning,” Rob said, glancing at the other officer. “Lieutenant London is taking over Drew’s case because the state’s attorney office is worried about the number of murder cases in Wickrock Bay lately.”
Ah! Well, if this was the case…” Mimi wasn’t particularly surprised. She had been wondering about it, too. “I see,” she said cautiously and shifted her gaze to the said officer in charge. “I’ll be happy to help,” she added.
“So I’ll be off now,” Rob said and strode toward the exit. His voice sounded wooden.
Mimi’s stomach clenched again.
“Wait, where are you going?” she asked. “And why?”
Rob looked over his shoulder. “Back to my office, to do my job,” he said, putting an odd stress on the possessives.
Back to his job? Wasn’t this his job?
“But why?” Mimi asked.
“Because it’s my job,” he replied, giving her a look she struggled to decipher.
What the hell was going on?
“Isn’t investigating Drew’s death your job, too?”
“Not anymore. I’m off the case, Mimi,” he said and opened the door. “Do you understand?” A line appeared on his forehead. His eyes narrowed.
No Ladder What (Witch of Wickrock Bay Book 4) Page 2