“Madam, we are having roast chicken with potatoes and asparagus, with leek soup and a Caesar salad starter,” he said with a sniff. Then he opened the door for us, brightening at the smile I gave him.
“I love chicken,” Auntie Joe exclaimed and walked into the foyer.
I patted Girard sympathetically and whispered, “There’s not a scratch on it. You can relax. It’s just dust from the construction site.”
Dinner was already on the table. Not only were we late, but we were also dusty and underdressed. Aunt Sarah waved merrily but Mother was not pleased. Aunt Hazel was pouring herself some tea. Father was absent, probably out on another business dinner. The cats were not in evidence. That usually meant they were under the table waiting to pounce.
“Where have you been?” Mother asked, looking peeved. “Dinner started ten minutes ago.”
“We were out,” Auntie Joe said, sliding into her chair. “It’s okay if we missed the soup course. That means more room for chicken.” She winked at Mother.
Mother was further displeased.
“We were over at Evelyn Stillwater’s place. We ran into Detective Garza,” I told the Aunts.
“Oh, ho! I bet that went over like a lead balloon,” Aunt Hazel said.
I stopped talking to take a forkful of salad and chase it with some white wine. Mm, that was good. Girard had a secret recipe for Caesar dressing that never, ever failed.
Mother glared at me. She sipped her wine, but I could tell she was unhappy. I was sure to get a lecture later.
“No,” I told them. “She seemed more aggravated with Evelyn than me, probably since Evelyn implied she didn’t know how to do her job. But I did find out that Hank was drugged before he was strangled.”
Mother put her wine glass down and red wine sloshed all over the table. “Enough! It’s bad enough we had that horrible business with Vanessa. I will not have murder discussed at the dinner table.”
I fell silent. The Aunts filled the vacuum in the conversation by talking about cliff diving in Ibiza, and the rest of their exploits in Spain. Mother pushed her plate away and sipped her wine. I watched her sadly. Sometimes I think that as much as Rory and the Aunts think I’m a pure debutante, my mother thinks I’m the oddest of oddballs.
“So then Sarah says,” Hazel blurted out, interrupting my thoughts, “‘Oh, you could never do that!’”
“Of course I said that,” Sarah laughed. “I knew that was the only way to ensure you would do it.”
“What was that like?” I asked.
Aunt Hazel sat up, her eyes sparkling. “Terrifying and incredibly bracing at the same time. You free fall ��� you just put your hands over your head and slide through the air and into the water. Amazing! I would never do it again but I’m glad Sarah tricked me into it. Sometimes fear is just something your body does just to stop you from having fun.”
By the time the Aunts and I finished dinner, Mother had long retired. I think she had just had enough of the Aunts’ antics, since their stories had gotten more and more daring by the time dessert was served. I wished she would get along with them better than she did, but I supposed that progress was progress, even if it came slower than I would have liked.
Sighing, I went outside with the cats to sit on the porch.
“Livvie,” I asked the cat at my feet. “Do you ever crave adventure?”
“No, I crave liverwurst,” she said. “That’s how I got my name. Kept stealing it off the counter at a deli. If Joe hadn’t saved me, the butcher would have gotten my tail.”
I laughed. “Really? I had no idea.”
“Who are you talking to,” Rory asked. He was silhouetted in the porch lights.
I stood up. “The cats,” I told him.
“Oh,” he said. “It just sounded like you were having a conversation.”
“Yes,” I sighed. “I talk to cats.”
“How are you?” I asked as he said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“The way I acted at the restaurant,” he reminded me. “I was just upset.”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “Really. I’ve been told I have foot-in-mouth disease.”
“Can we start over?” we asked at the same time.
I looked at his serious face and burst into laughter. He did too and sat down on the porch steps, resting his back against the post. I came down from my chair and sat beside him. The cats hid under the porch chair, spying.
“How’s the case?”
“Good.” I told him about what Garza had said and filled him in on Linda and Neil.
“So who do you think did it?” he asked.
“I don’t have enough information to make a good guess right now. I might have to put Evelyn on the list. So Evelyn, Neil, Thomas…the neighbor Linda. I haven’t even talked to the rest of the band yet. They could all be suspects.”
“Still going after Thomas?” There was a hard note to his voice.
I stared. “Of course! I can’t take him off the list until the evidence clears him.”
“So you think Thomas could be a murderer,” he said.
“I think a lot of people could be the murderer,” I said defensively. “Even you are a good candidate. You discovered the body.”
“You think I did it? That would fit with your M.O. of going after the poorest person on the scene,” Rory stood up. “This was a mistake.”
“Wait,” I stood up too. “I don’t think you’re the murderer, I was just saying you were there and so technically you have to be ruled out. This has nothing to do with money. I don’t care about money.”
“That’s because you have it,” he said quietly.
Chapter 6
Livvie followed me back to my room. Trouble wandered off into the bushes after birds or bugs or adventure. I didn’t care. My mind was on Rory.
“Am I crazy?”
“Human,” Livvie replied, as if that answered that.
I laughed. “Really? Xenophobia is unbecoming in a feline,” I told her.
She rolled onto her back and batted the air with her paws. I scratched her belly and flopped down next to her. Something poked me in the hip. It was an apple. I picked it up and held the reassuring weight in one hand.
“Why is there an apple in my bed?” I asked aloud.
“I like them. They’re good smelling things to kick around. Much better than a ball of yarn,” Livvie said. “Besides, you need practice. Your magic stinks.”
“I guess I do,” I said. “My mind’s been elsewhere.”
Livvie didn’t bother to answer.
I stared at the apple. It was a rich garnet and smelled delicious. Closing my eyes I visualized the apple skin shifting to a bright green. I breathed out, eyes still closed. I opened them. The apple was still red. But as I watched, the color swirled, like green drops of food coloring dropped in water. In seconds the green spread until I was holding a bright green apple!
“I did it! Oh my goodness, I did it,” I shouted.
Aunt Sarah came running into the room. She laughed at me. I was dancing around in a circle, the green apple held aloft in one hand. I hugged her, aware that the scent of lavender was hanging in the air. That was weird. I hadn’t diffused any…
“What are we dancing about?” Aunt Sarah asked.
“I made the apple turn green. I’ve been trying for two days and I finally did it,” I said, and offered her the fruit.
She turned it over in her hands.
“Looks like a green apple. What was it? Red,” she asked. I nodded and she took a bite. “Mmm. Tastes sharp and crispy, too! Now we can teach you something else.”
I deflated.
Aunt Sarah hugged me again. “I don’t mean to belittle your accomplishment. This is great! You can now mess with people at restaurants. Besides, you’re going to have to turn a bushel of apples into other apples before Hazel is satisfied. But the more spells you get under your belt the more confidence you’ll have. I am so proud of you! And not just because Granny Smiths are my
favorite, which they are.”
“Well,” I drawled. “That’s it for me. I’m a success. I am going to bed.”
“We’ll get Livvie to bring you more apples. She loves batting them all over,” Aunt Sarah said.
LIvvie mimed batting from where she was laying on the bed.
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Aunt Sarah,” I said tentatively. “Does magic have a scent?”
She plopped down next to me. “Ah, I wondered when you would notice that!”
“Is it by spell or by witch,” I asked.
“You tell me,” Sarah said. I frowned and she winked at me. “Oh Ella, I can’t do everything for you! Half the fun of magic is learning as you go… or haven’t you figured that part out yet?”
“Where have you been?” Mother asked as I walked in the front door.
It was almost four and I needed to get in the shower and change before our big meeting with the band. I held up my aromatherapy kit.
“Mrs. Johnson needed something to quiet her anxiety,” I told her when she blocked me from going up the staircase. “I mixed her some bath salts and a blend to calm her nerves. She kept me there for an hour telling me about her horse. Did you know Leaps-The-Fences was a terrible jumper and much better at dressage? I do now.”
Mother laughed. “Yes, as a matter of fact I do, too! That old crackpot tells everyone about her fancy horse dress up. But I wanted to talk to you about accepting an invitation.”
She handed me a small handwritten invitation. I stuffed it in my purse. She frowned.
“I’ll look at it later. I need to get ready for the dinner with Hank Stillwater’s band,” I told her. She grimaced.
“When are you going to stop playing junior detective and start thinking about what’s important?”
“When I catch the killer, Mother,” I responded airily. Her words stung, despite my efforts not to let it show.
I slid past her and rushed up the stairs.
Aunt Sarah called out to me as I passed her room. “We’re leaving an hour, Ella dear.”
“I’ll be ready,” I told her. “Then we can all go play junior detective together.”
“Oh, come now. Has Jeanie been at you again?” Aunt Sarah grabbed my arm to stop my forward momentum.
I ducked my head.
“She means well, but her priorities are distinctly different than ours— and yours, too, I think,” Sarah said. “She’ll come around.”
“Not until I’m married off to a suitable match,” I said, forcing a laugh.
“Rory’s a suitable match,” she remarked.
“Not according to Mother… or Rory right now, for that matter,” I said, and slid out of her arms, avoiding her eyes.
The shower was hot and effective. I let it pull all the stress out of my muscles. Since I had to make a good impression I washed my hair and took a few extra seconds to really soak in the heat. Afterwards I chose an cap-sleeved sundress in yellow eyelet cotton. Blow drying my hair took longer than I had wanted so I was glad for the easy clothing choice as I hopped down the steps while trying to get my strappy red sandals done up.
“The car is ready,” Auntie Joe said, resplendent in a rich emerald cocktail length dress.
Beside Joe was Aunt Sarah in a pink pencil skirt and blouse with lacy sleeves. Her makeup was heavy but stylish and every hair slicked perfectly into place. I touched my messy waves self-consciously. Joe’s blonde do was also fancier than mine and she had even stuck a sparkling comb into it.
And there I was with my sundress. I felt underdressed next to all of them, but oh well.
Father walked in just in time to admire us.
“Well hello, beautiful women,” he said, stopping to kiss me on the cheek. “Where are all you visions of loveliness off to, so close to dinner?”
“We’re meeting some friends for dinner,” I told him.
“They’re meeting with the band of that dead musician,” Mother elaborated as she walked out of the kitchen, with Girard in tow.
“Who happen to be old friends of mine,” Auntie Joe interjected smoothly.
Father raised his eyebrows. “I forget what world travelers you ladies are. Well, enjoy. It’ll be a romantic dinner for me and your Mother, then.”
Mother blushed.
“Have fun,” I called over my shoulder. We walked outside and climbed into the car.
“I’m so excited to see them again,” Joe gushed.
“I am too,” Sarah said, hugging her. “Not that I knew the fellows very well, but do I remember that party in London after their concert.”
I didn’t say anything. I was also excited, but mostly because I wanted to get on with the investigation. I tapped my fingers against my knee and forced myself not to look at the road. Sarah was behind the wheel, but if her driving was anything like Joe’s was I didn’t think I could handle watching it happened.
The car stopped a lot sooner than I’d expected.
“Are we here already?” I asked, surprised.
“No,” Aunt Sarah said. “I hope you don’t mind. I invited Rory to accompany us. He told me how much he loves the band and thought this might be a bit of a treat for him.”
No, I didn’t mind. I was just… nervous.
Rory climbed into the car and had to sit next to me since the Aunts were together on the other side. My heart flip-flopped.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I said.
And then we fell silent.
I still wasn’t sure if he was angry with me for real reasons. So I was feeling a bit put out having him next to me. Except having him next to me was also thrilling. His leg was up against mine, rubbing a bit with every bump in the road, and I could smell his orange and pine scented cologne. It was certainly distracting! The car ride seemed to stretch out into the longest, most awkwardly tense silence of my life. But in reality we were there in minutes.
We stepped out of the car and found ourselves in a pretty normal neighborhood. The restaurant was situated between some townhouses. We walked up to the double doors, where a small guy in all black opened them for us. Auntie Joe took the lead.
“Hello,” a petite brunette said from behind a wooden podium. “Welcome to the Steer Steak. Do you have a reservation?”
“Oh yes, we’re here to see Neil Campbell, Mark Whitman, and Jimmy Sidle. They’re expecting us,” Joe told her.
“Of course,” she replied. “Follow me.”
We were led to a back room with a closed sliding door. She slid the door open just far enough for us to get inside and closed it immediately behind us. The room was richly decorated in thick panels of red fabric, longhorns mounted on plaques and lots and lots of spurs and whips and other western motif items.
“Joe! Over here,” Mark called.
The members of Run of the Indifferent sat around a large table drinking red wine. We walked over and I sat down near Neil. Rory sat beside me, but when I looked at him he didn’t meet my eye. Fine, then. I wasn’t going to be put out by him. I turned to say hello to the other two.
“This is my niece Ella, her boyfriend Rory, and of course you remember my sister Sarah,” Joe said, by way of introduction. My cheeks flooded with heat when she introduced Rory as my boyfriend. I didn’t dare look at him, but I itched to know how he reacted to that.
“Get comfortable, everyone. If we give her enough wine maybe Joe will tell us some good stories about Hank,” Neil said with an exaggerated wink in Joe’s direction. Auntie Joe blushed.
“Ignore him,” Jimmy said to Joe. “He drank a whole bottle himself before you got here. It’s good to see you! Where have you been since we were all young and dumb?”
“Our Joe was never dumb,” Aunt Sarah said tartly.
“Oh, I’ve been all over since then. Sarah, Hazel and I love traveling. The world is a big and crazy place. Lately we’ve been staying in town, trying to talk our niece into being carefree and wild like the rest of us,” Auntie Joe said, laughing.
“You haven’
t changed at all,” Jimmy said. “When was the last time you were in love?”
“Last week,” Joe said with a laugh. “You?”
“Ten minutes ago, when the waitress brought me a brandy in the right glass,” he said.
No one ordered anything but while they were talking the doors opened and platters of meat were brought in and laid on the table. The smell was beyond mouth-watering. Side dishes came in next and platters laden with potatoes dripping in butter landed next to roasted ears of corn and cornbread pyramids. A whole roasted turkey also appeared at one end and a gentleman carved it while I watched.
“Do you still love midnight swimming?” Neil asked Auntie Joe.
“No, Neil, that was you,” Joe told him. “Weren’t you notorious for taking dips late at night?”
“I love swimming with the pool lit up from underneath,” Neil said. He he moved closer to her and continued, his voice raunchy. “The ladies love it.”
“Not me,” Joe said haughtily. “I prefer cliff diving, racing cars and intelligent conversation.”
“Well, I’m out of the running,” Jimmy said with a laugh. “You too,” he said pointing at Mark.
She laughed and pushed him away. Aunt Sarah had her arms lightly crossed watching everyone. Rory started serving himself and so did Jimmy. My mouth was watering, so I followed suit.
As I was tweaking a second piece of cornbread, Rory asked, “What was Hank like? Did he like midnight swimming?”
“No,” Jimmy answered. “Hank was afraid of water. Wouldn’t go near it.”
“Why,” I asked.
“June drowned,” Neil answered.
“June was Hank’s sister,” Joe told me. “She was a few years younger than Hank.”
“I’m sorry,” Rory said, “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”
“I never met her,” Jimmy answered. “But I wouldn’t mention her around Carl.”
“Carl dated June, didn’t he?” Mark asked.
Jimmy nodded, saying, “They were engaged at one point. Didn’t you find a bunch of old love letters, Neil?”
Neil was tearing turkey leg apart and dipping it in sauce. He nodded while he chewed.
“Carl sold me his old roadster and there was a box in the trunk. I gave them back to him as soon as I saw who they were from. That car had to have been in mothballs since the seventies. He was thrilled,” Neil said.
A Spell of Murder: An Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic Cozy Mystery (Ella Sweeting: Witch Aromatherapist Cozies Book 2) Page 5