A Spell of Murder: An Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic Cozy Mystery (Ella Sweeting: Witch Aromatherapist Cozies Book 2)

by Lisbeth Reade

  “Don’t look.” I pulled her back to the table, sat her down, and hugged her. She was a thin woman with long platinum hair and wide, doe-like eyes. Her body shook against mine. I felt terrible. I looked to Rory. He came over and sat down beside me.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Stillwater. I just found him there,” Rory said helplessly.

  Neil stood stock still, staring. Jimmy Sidle and Mark Whitman, the other band members who’d been at their table, huddled together in shock. I saw Thomas in the darkness. He caught my eye before disappearing into the crowd.

  Evelyn was crying so hard her entire body shook. “I loved him! Oh, Hank! Hank!”

  I searched in my purse for something to calm her down and my hands gripped a tiny bottle of essential oils I had been using to keep a client calm during an important exam. It was worth a shot. I pulled the stopper and waved it under her nose. Evelyn inhaled and I put the intention of peace in the air. She glanced up at me, eyes wide but calmer.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “What is that?”

  I pressed the bottle into her hands. “It’s the perfect blend for you right now. It’s sandalwood, melissa and frankincense. Calms the nerves a bit. Keep it.”

  Before I could say anything the doors bounced open and Detective Garza strode through. Chaos parted before the tiny detective. She wore a pinstripe blue power suit and sharp black flats, and her hair was slicked back in a dark bun that meant business. She eyed me and frowned.

  “Set up a perimeter,” Detective Garza told the officers who’d followed her in. “No one in or out without my say-so. Get the ME ready. Also, get Ruby to start interviewing everyone. Move.”

  The officers didn’t hesitate; Garza was too formidable. She scared me a more than a little bit, too. I cringed, hoping she wouldn’t give me a hard time for being here. She didn’t like it when she thought I was sleuthing— or interfering, as she called it. Actually, she’d threatened to arrest me for exactly that just last week, and here I was, once again at the scene of the crime.

  “Who found the body?” she asked, as Carl started to move forward.

  Rory raised his hand. “Ah, that would be me.”

  Garza’s gaze narrowed. “Mr. Smith,” she said dryly. “How did I know you would be involved in all of this?”

  “Involved? We were just out to dinner,” I said.

  “Miss Sweeting, I would say I was glad to see you again, but I’m really not. You’re starting to make a habit of showing up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “This is only my second murder scene,” I started, but shut up at the black look she gave me.

  “Carl, where’s the body?”

  Carl took the detective over to where Hank was. I moved to follow, but Evelyn grabbed my hand and I let her hold me back. Rory came to stand on my other side and laid a comforting hand on my shoulder.

  Neil sank into the chair on Evelyn’s other side and put his head in his hands. “I can’t believe he would hang himself, Evie,” he said.

  “Don’t you dare.” Evelyn’s eyes were bright with tears. “Hank wasn’t that kind of man.”

  “Even after…” Neil said, his tone anguished.

  “Stop torturing yourself,” she snapped. “That was years ago.”

  They both looked at Rory and me and stopped talking. I filed it away. It seemed like potentially useful information. Garza reappeared to direct the gurney into the back room. I made another attempt to catch a glimpse of the body, but this time it was Ruby who stopped me.

  “Hi Ella,” she said brightly. “I’m conducting all the interviews.”

  “Hey Ruby.” I said, annoyed that I couldn’t see more of Hank. Something pulled me towards his body, something between pity and curiosity. He’d been such a talented musician, and to be murdered on his birthday… it just seemed so sad. “I don’t know what I can tell you.”

  “I’m sure you know more than you think you do, but we’ll start with Rory,” Ruby said and led him away. He looked back over his shoulder at me like a lost little boy. I sighed. So much for our amazing date….

  As the gurney passed by Hank’s hand fell free. His knuckles looked dirty, as if they were coated in something like ash or powder. I crossed my arms and tried to absorb a few more details, but there really wasn’t much to see with the sheet covering the rest of him.

  I tried to shield Evelyn from the body, but she pushed past me and moved towards Hank. Garza put a hand up and stopped her.

  “He’s my husband,” Evelyn cried.

  Detective Garza softened and put a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder. “I know that, Mrs. Stillwater. But we need to take him downtown and get as much evidence off of him as possible. You do want to know what happened, don’t you?”

  “I do, but I have to see him. I… I never thought he’d go this way,” she said and dissolved into tears. I rushed to take her off Garza’s hands. She nodded her thanks and the gurney disappeared into the back of an ambulance. The red tie had been bagged and was in Garza’s hands, along with a platinum ring with a square cut garnet. I memorized the look of it just in case it ended up being important to the case.

  Garza grabbed Ruby. “When you’re done interviewing everyone, get a patrolman to make sure Mrs. Stillwater gets home. She’s going to need to make an official ID when the ME is done her investigation. Oh,” she added, shooting a killer look in my direction, “make sure Ms. Sweeting isn’t loitering.”

  Ruby giggled, earning her own glare from the detective. She pulled me to the side with her.

  “Don’t let her scare you,” Ruby told me. “She likes you. She thought you did a great job with your next door neighbor’s case. She just can’t have civilians doing her job.”

  “Ruby, that’s not comforting,” I told her. “She could still arrest me for interfering.”

  “Were you?”

  “Was I what?”

  Ruby smacked my arm. “Interfering. Were you?” she asked.

  “No, I was on a date,” I protested.

  “With Rory,” Ruby said her eyes positively glowing. “Debutante dates mail carrier, page six…Your mother is going to have your head.”

  “Please,” I said. “What does your mother think of your newest love interest?”

  “Nothing,” Ruby said evasively.

  “Because you didn’t tell her that you have the hots for Max Stewart who, I might add, was recently accused of murder?”

  “Max Stewart who was recently falsely accused of murder, and then exonerated,” Ruby corrected. “And he hasn’t responded to my charms just yet. But he will. I have a way with bad boys. But enough about me, tell me what happened from the beginning.”

  “I don’t really know anything. We were done dessert and getting ready to leave. Rory had to go to the men’s room and he found Hank,” I told her.

  But I realized I did know a few things. I knew Thomas didn’t like Hank. Or seemed to not like him… though it could be just that Hank was a bad customer. Famous people could be arrogant, and Hank had been pretty rude to Thomas. It might not have been the first time. Hm, I was just going to put a pin in that for now. I would hate to sic the law on a waiter for not liking a bad customer.

  “Okay, let’s start from the beginning and remember not to leave out any of the juicy date details,” Ruby said with a wicked wink.

  “You know you have my phone number if you want to gossip,” I said, laughing. But I told her everything, starting from the beginning of the date.

  Ruby asked me dozens of questions, trying to wring as much information out of me as possible. When she was done I literally felt dizzy. I stumbled over to Rory who was also looking drained and a bit queasy.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  Rory ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve just never seen a… corpse up close before.”

  “I think people can live their whole lives and not see one,” I said, laying my hand on his arm. “We must be in one of the worst exclusive clubs ever.”

  “It’s not as much fun as so
me other clubs I can think of,” he said with a hint of a smile.

  “No, not at all. Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

  “You can let me take you home,” he said.

  “Ruby said we can go,” I told him. “She knows where we live and has my prints on file from last time.”

  Had Vanessa’s death and Maureen’s crazy attempt to kill me really only been a week ago? Rory had been shot, not that you could tell by looking at him. Shooting victims didn’t wander around wearing a sign or announcing it to everyone. But here we were, at the scene of another murder! I was starting to wonder if magic made me more susceptible to being in the wrong place at the wrong time or if Coincidence was my middle name.

  Rory whisked me outside and into his car. I admit that I leaned against him a lot.

  “I hope this doesn’t hurt Carl’s business,” Rory said. “It really is the best French restaurant in town.” I didn’t answer. I wondered if people would want to go there more than ever now, to the only haunted French restaurant in town.

  He stopped the car right in front of my door. We stared at each other awkwardly. I wasn’t sure how you could salvage a date with a murder for dessert. We tried to speak at the same time, stopped and laughed. I hugged him.

  “I was hoping for a less dramatic evening,” he said at last. He rubbed my arm.

  “I was hoping for a kiss goodnight,” I said. “But the mood is…”

  “Weird,” Rory said. “Why don’t we try this again?”

  I nodded, and I was blushing a little. I still wanted the kiss, but he was right. The timing was terrible. I hugged him tight. When I pulled back we both seemed disappointed.

  “I’ll call you,” he said. He was so cute. He sort of hugged himself on the way back to his car. I waved.

  When he was gone I walked inside to see my mother standing in the hall, arms crossed and expression grim. We both started talking at the same time.

  “Ella, darling,” she began, her voice strained. “Can I have a word with you?”

  “Mother, you will never believe what happened at the restaurant,” I began.

  “What was it? A huffy waiter? I don’t care about that. I just want to know how your date went,” she snapped. I saw something dark lurking in her bright eyes.

  “It was wonderful,” I told her. “Up until the murder.”

  “Murder,” Aunt Hazel called from the drawing room. “Did you say murder, Ella dear? You’d best come into here and tell all of us at once.” She poked her head out and beckoned. “Otherwise you’ll be telling the same story several times over.”

  “Yes,” Mother said. “Perhaps you had better tell us how you ended up at the scene of another murder! Your father is going to have a fit. Good thing he’s still at work.”

  To be honest, it was more likely that Mother was the one who’d have a fit. Father was more likely to be amused than anything.

  “Hurry up,” Auntie Joe called. “I want to hear everything.”

  Inside the drawing room Aunt Hazel was knitting…something. I couldn’t tell if it was a blanket or a scarf or maybe a small sweater. Whatever it was, it was made from thick green yarn. Aunt Sarah had been reading a trashy romance novel and was now pretending to read the paper, but I saw the book sticking out of her purse. Auntie Joe was rushing back to her seat and the cats were draped on the back of the love seat. When did my house become so pleasantly crowded?

  “Rory found Hank Stillwater dead in the back of the restaurant,” I said dramatically.

  “Hank Stillwater is dead?” Auntie Joe croaked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “So you’ve heard of Run of the Indifferent, Auntie Joe?”

  Auntie Joe burst into tears. Aunt Sarah raced to hug her and Aunt Hazel dropped her knitting.

  “What did I say?” I asked looking to Mother for help. She looked just nonplussed. “Auntie Joe?”

  Sarah answered. “Joe dated Hank.”

  I felt hot, then cold. “Oh,” I breathed.

  “Tell us what happened, dear,” Hazel prompted.

  Flustered, I stumbled over the story. “…and he was dead with a red tie wrapped around his neck.”

  Auntie Joe wiped at her eyes. “Poor Hank! He never liked the color red. That’s awful. Tell me you’re going to help the police find the killer. You are, Ella, aren’t you?”

  Actually, I’d been planning on sitting this one out and not getting arrested by Garza. Sure, I’d been tempted, but I thought I’d gotten that under control.

  Auntie Joe saw the look on my face and understood. “Please, Ella. We dated when he was on tour in Budapest. In the eighties. I know it was forever ago but he…we…Oh, I loved him once. Say you will?”

  Oh, gosh. Detective Garza was definitely not going to like this. I’d have to be really sneaky about it and hope she wouldn’t notice my sleuthing. I just couldn’t turn down Auntie Joe, especially not when she looked this distraught.

  I bit my lip. “How can I refuse?”

  Chapter 3

  The phone rang. I dropped the apple I was working on and picked up.

  “Hello, Sweeting residence, Ella speaking,” I said formally.

  Mother didn’t like us answering the phones. She preferred Girard to do it because it was proper to have him act as a filter between us and the rest of the crude, unseemly world, but I hated waiting to find out if a call was for me. Most people called my cell phone, but still, you never know.

  “Ella?” The voice was light, fluttery and oddly familiar. I tried to place the voice, but Aunt Sarah was in the room with me changing an apple into a pear and back again. I waved at her to stop. It was distracting, and a bit disheartening, too. I couldn’t even change the color properly yet.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Evelyn Stillwater. We ah, we met yesterday,” she said.

  I had to give her credit. Her voice wavered, but didn’t break. My heart broke a little for her.

  “Evelyn,” I breathed, “How are you? Ugh, that’s a stupid question. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “I would like you to come by the house today, if you have time,” she said. This time her voice did break, just a little.

  “Of course,” I said, waving at Aunt Sarah and miming a pen. She handed me a notepad and pulled a pen from behind her ear. I scribbled down the address and time. “Yes, okay, of course.”

  “That was Evelyn Stillwater,” I told Sarah. “She wants to see me.”

  “Why,” Aunt Sarah asked.

  “I don’t know, but I couldn’t turn her down. And maybe seeing his house and talking to her might give us some clues to help Garza find the killer.”

  Aunt Sarah frowned. “You mean, help Joe. You know Garza isn’t going to appreciate what you’re doing even if you put the killer in a gift wrapped box and left it on her doorstep.”

  “She’d probably shoot me,” I guessed.

  Aunt Sarah burst out laughing. She tossed the pear to me and it shifted to an apple in mid-flight. I touched it and the scent of cinnamon wafted off of it. I frowned and sniffed it again. It smelled like an apple for sure but with a hint of cinnamon.

  “Can you get Aunt Hazel and Auntie Joe to meet me over at the restaurant? I’ll text them when I’m on my way.”

  “Yes, I can,” Aunt Sarah answered, but she was frowning.

  “How is Auntie Joe?”

  “Sad,” Sarah answered. “She and Hank had sort of a whirlwind romance when he was on tour. It lasted from Budapest to London but they broke it off before he went back to the States. She was too busy studying botany and he was too busy being a rock star. Bad timing can kill just about any relationship.”

  “Do you remember them together?” I was trying to picture Hank and Auntie Joe as young and in love, with bad eighties clothes and hair.

  Sarah hugged herself. “They were both chaotic. It was the eighties. They stayed up all night together and snuck away to nude beaches and got arrested in Cologne once.”

  I guess without the bad
eighties clothes, then.

  Sarah beamed at me. “Ah, young love,” she breathed. “Anyway, all things must end. I was once madly in love with a traveling scientist. Quirky looking guy. Oh, how I loved his curls! Wherever they were.” She gave me a saucy wink.

  “Aunt Sarah!”

  I tossed the apple back to her and wished it to turn blue. It landed in her hands slightly purple. She held it up and took a bite out of it. The inside was a perfect shade of aqua. One of these days I was going to nail that spell!

  Mother met me on the staircase. She was fidgety with a serious pout on her perfectly made up face.

  “Ella,” she began.

  “Mother,” I said with a smile. “I’m on my way to meet with Evelyn Stillwater.”

  “Whatever for?” Her face shifted to surprise.

  I shrugged. “Not sure,” I told her. “She wants to meet. I’m on my way there now.”

  “I’d like to have a word with you,” Mother insisted.

  “Sure,” I let her lead me into the kitchens where Girard was shaping cookie dough. She waved him out. I eyed the half-filled tray of cookies hungrily. They were certainly more appetizing than this conversation with Mother.

  “Van Sinclair is in town and he would like to take you out,” Mother began. Uh oh. Van Sinclair was an eligible bachelor.

  “Like on a date?”

  “Yes,” she said exasperated. “He is a very acceptable young man. He’s a neurosurgeon who…”

  “Hates cats and girls with opinions,” I told her. “Besides, I’m seeing Rory.”

  Mother stopped, hugging her elbow the way she does when she wants to tell me something distasteful. “I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

  “It’s not,” I answered wrong-footed. “Look, why are you trying to set me up? I thought you gave up on that idea after I accidentally insulted the Mueller’s son and Father almost lost an account.”

  “Oh, Ella dear, a mother never gives up until her daughter is properly married,” she breathed.

  “Tell Van thanks, but no thanks,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “I have to go now or I’m going to be late.” I turned and walked out of the kitchen as fast as I possibly could.