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

by Lisbeth Reade

  I just had to get back to Linda and ask her about being at the restaurant at the time of the murder. If she was then she had means and opportunity. But then again so did Thomas. Thomas, who left his job and ran off in a huff….

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 8

  I flipped the apple up into the air and even before it landed in my hands it transformed smoothly from a red Cortland to a mottled Honey Crisp. Nice….

  The sun was up. I could see it gleaming through the bars as I launched the apple into space again; concentrating so the falling Honey Crisp became a Granny Smith. The door opened as I bit into the apple.

  I rolled to face the open door as Auntie Joe raced inside with ‘a fresh as a daisy’ Ruby. I was instantly jealous. I hadn’t slept a wink. The bed was harder than the concrete floor and every move made the springs scream in protest. Besides, my mind had whirled and whirled with the facts of the case. I just had to talk to Thomas. But first, I had to get out of here.

  “Morning sunshine,” Ruby called, jangling her ring of old fashioned jailor’s keys. “I was going to make us omelets but your aunt seems to think you’d rather go home and get a nice hot shower.”

  “I’d settle for some peanut butter for this apple,” I quipped.

  “Oh, Ella,” Auntie Joe moaned, “Was it just awful? I haven’t spent a night in jail in at least a year. It’s always so cold and uncomfortable. But usually Sarah or Hazel is with me. You were all alone!”

  “I was here,” Ruby protested.

  “Open the door, Ruby,” Auntie Joe insisted.

  I stood back. Ruby turned the key in the lock and the jail cell door rumbled open. I stepped out, dancing a bit. I was so excited to get away. Ruby led us up front but there were no discharge papers to sign. Ruby checked but there was only a note on the case file:

  Catch again, press charges. No mercy.

  — Garza

  “You better listen,” Ruby advised me.

  “I am listening,” I told her. “I wish you would listen to me about Max.”

  Ruby had spent at least half the night telling me what she would do if she could only catch Max Stewart’s eye. She had been the same way when we were in high school together. Once Ruby set her sights on a guy that guy was a goner. But Max? Ugh. She could do so much better.

  “Not a chance,” Ruby said. “There’s something about him. He’s a diamond in the rough.”

  I couldn’t think of anything nice to say so I took another bite of my apple. I furiously chewed my way out of the station. Auntie Joe followed me. She smiled and waved at the other two officers on duty. I stopped on the steps of the police station to inhale some fresh air.

  “It smells great out here,” I told her.

  “It smells like burnt toast,” Auntie Joe said with a laugh.

  “Where did you park?” I asked, looking around for the car.

  “Eager to get home and have a hot bath? Can’t say I blame you,” Auntie Joe rambled.

  I pitched my apple core into a trash can.

  “Oh, we’re not going home. We’re going to go find Thomas.”

  “Oh,” Auntie Joe breathed. “I was hoping we’d get breakfast first.” Her stomach rumbled.

  “Tea, crumpets, and crime solving,” I mused. “Okay, let’s get breakfast. We can use the caf��‘s internet to find out where Thomas lives.”

  “Or we could let it go before Garza puts you in jail again,” Auntie Joe said gently.

  I stopped just short of the car and spun to face my beautiful aunt. She picked nervously at the sleeves of her sweater.

  “No,” I said.

  “I don’t want you to get into more trouble over my old boyfriend,” she argued.

  I hugged her.

  “I’m not going to let a detective scare me off. Hank was your friend. I’m going to help you find his killer. I’m going to help Evelyn, too. But mostly I am not going to let someone get away with murder, not if I can help it,” I told her.

  “Good,” Auntie Joe said, looking relieved. “Because I was going to keep investigating and it’s more fun doing it with my niece.”

  We beamed at each other.

  Breakfast was delightful. We both had large fat cinnamon rolls with icing oozing all over the place. I got pretty messy while I clicked away, searching out my prey: Thomas. The more I turned it over in my head, the more I felt he must be involved. It made sense: Carl suspected him, but felt protective towards him and didn’t want to turn him in, so he fired him. I just had to get proof.

  “I found him. He has an apartment at Middletown Trace,” I told Auntie Joe as we licked our fingers clean.

  Auntie Joe nodded. “Let’s go talk to him.”

  Just then, Rory walked into the caf��. I saw him twitch when he noticed us, but he didn’t stop to talk. My heart crashed down into my stomach. I guess he was still mad about the invitation from Van Sinclair. I couldn’t blame him really. If I had only read the stupid invitation first… Oh well, one thing at a time.

  “Quick,” I whispered to Joe, “Let’s get out of here. If Rory gets wind that I’m still on Thomas, I’m finished.”

  If Rory had turned back to see us, he would have seen our chairs still spinning and a large tip on the table. But he probably didn’t look back. I wish I had seen whether or not he had turned back. Oh well. I let out a deep sigh as we climbed into the car and headed downtown.

  Auntie Joe and I passed the gardens and the theater before we crossed over into the poorer section of town. Not that it looked awful; it was just a lot of apartment complexes and a mall. It was nice really, with neat little garden boxes outside the windows. Maples lined the streets. People were out in the sunshine walking dogs and carrying newspapers.

  We turned into Middletown Trace. There were fewer trees down here. The flower boxes were there but some of them were empty. The lawns were nice and green, but patchy in spots. We passed a sad playground and an empty tennis court before we reached Thomas’ building. Auntie Joe pulled into a guest spot.

  “Which one is it,” Auntie Joe asked.

  “Second from the left,” I answered. “132. It’s over there. See? That one,” I said, pointing to an apartment with a whitewashed door and a few basil plants growing from an old flower box.

  I knocked. Auntie Joe crossed her arms and leaned against the car. The door opened and a rumpled Thomas opened it a crack. Seeing me, he closed it again but I heard a chain lock being moved. The door popped open.

  “Hello, Ella,” he said. “Come to investigate?”

  “Yes,” I said, ignoring his flippant tone.

  He opened the door wider and waved us in. The apartment was neat and clean with pictures of parks hung up. The beige carpet was covered with a blue rug and there was even a bowl of candy on the table. It was disorienting. I thought a single guy’s apartment would be messier somehow, like a dorm room.

  I sat in a comfortable black leather love seat. Auntie Joe sat next to me and Thomas sat opposite on the matching couch.

  “What happened with Carl,” I asked.

  “When? Oh, when he fired me? That’s an easy one,” Thomas said, scrubbing at his face.

  He had a steaming cup of coffee on the table. It was obvious we had interrupted his morning routine.

  “Like you, Carl thinks I’m the killer,” Thomas said. “Like you, he has no proof but he doesn’t need any to fire me.”

  I felt like the air was going out of me. But I pressed on asking, “Did you?”

  “Kill Hank? How many times do I have to say it? The guy was a jerk but I’m no killer. I was in the kitchen trying to calm down. The guy is an ass. I didn’t even know he was dead until your boyfriend tripped over him. I’m not sorry he’s dead. The police have already cleared me. What can I tell you to make you take me off your list of suspects?” Thomas asked.

  “The thing about Carl is that I really liked him, you know? I worked hard at that job and I made great tips. There’s no way I would jeopardize that. I was saving
up to finish school. He used to let me use his office computer to fill out grant applications.”

  “When you were in Carl’s office did you ever look at the letters?”

  “No,” Thomas said, but he looked down.

  “Come on,” I insisted. “You weren’t at least curious about them?”

  “Fine. I read a few of them. It was just old romance letters. Why,” he asked.

  “Just curious,” I told him. “I saw them in the office and saw the girl was Hank’s sister June.”

  “Oh, that would explain the ring,” Thomas said suddenly.

  “That ring,” Auntie Joe asked.

  “Hank always wore a garnet graduation ring.”

  “That’s not unusual,” I said.

  “Carl told me once that the ring didn’t belong to Hank, but I already knew that,” Thomas said.

  “Why?”

  “It’s a girl’s graduation ring. Probably the sister’s ring. Carl said she drowned. “

  Back in the car, I sat silent and still for a few minutes, just thinking. Auntie Joe turned the engine on to warm it up and fiddled with the radio.

  “I’m barking up the wrong tree,” I admitted. “Thomas seems more like a victim in all this than a killer. He lost everything because of Hank, even the job with Carl.”

  “But he doesn’t seem like he made any of that happen,” Auntie Joe said.

  “No,” I agreed. “Let’s go talk to Evelyn. Maybe she can…Wait a minute! Didn’t Linda say that she heard Hank and Evelyn swimming and carrying on in the pool late at night?”

  “Yes, she did,” Auntie Joe said, looking puzzled.

  “But didn’t Jimmy say that Hank was terrified of the water?”

  Her face froze. “He did,” she said slowly.

  “Well then, who exactly was swimming with Evelyn?”

  The trip to Evelyn’s was uneventful. Pulling up to the driveway we saw construction equipment next door, but no one seemed to be home at Linda’s house. Evelyn’s car was in her driveway but the curtains were drawn. It was almost eleven AM. She should have been awake by now. Maybe we could catch her off guard and find out who she was swimming with. I had an idea who it might be.

  “I’m going to stay in the car,” Auntie Joe announced.

  “What? Why?” I asked.

  “Because she’s not going to say anything in front of me. We were together once. Imagine seeing your husband’s old girlfriend and telling her how you were indiscreet? I know I would be embarrassed. Besides, I need to call my sisters and your mother. We should have been home hours ago.”

  I didn’t argue. She was right. I thought about how I would feel if Rory heard a conversation like that about me or I about him. Then I thought about how we haven’t even really completed a date together and a rush of sadness hit me. But then I got angry. He was the one who kept making things awkward. Maybe I should just go on the date with Van.

  The door opened about ten seconds after I rang it. Evelyn was dressed in a linen dress and her hair was up. She smelled like very expensive French perfume. Her shoes were also designer. When she saw me, she frowned, but then waved me inside.

  “I heard you spent the night in jail,” Evelyn said, her eyes dipping to her watch.

  “Am I keeping you from something?” I asked.

  “I’m meeting Neil for lunch. I have a few minutes. But only a few minutes.”

  I felt the bold approach might get me somewhere with her. So I just came out and asked, “Who were you midnight swimming with? Because it wasn’t Hank.”

  She paled and took a step back. “What?”

  I pressed my advantage. “Linda said she often heard you and Hank in the pool late at night. But the band says he’s terrified of water since his sister drowned. So who were you in the pool with?”

  Evelyn’s pretty face turned ugly. “How dare you! What are you implying?”

  “You were having an affair with Neil weren’t you?”

  Evelyn’s face turned red with anger and her mouth pressed into a thin, firm line.

  “How dare you accuse me of something so scandalous?” she demanded.

  But her nerves were showing. Her right hand had pulled loose a stand of her blonde hair and was twisting it. The tips of her ears were coloring with rage, or maybe shame. A more level-headed woman would have backed off. After all, Evelyn was the reason I was involved in the murder case in the first place. But I’m not sure I was ever able to count level-headedness as one of my strengths.

  “When I spoke with Neil, he told me the reason you would never leave Hank was because you loved this house. That sure makes it sound like you’d had considered it. Also, Neil said things between you and Hank were not always great…”

  Evelyn sighed. “Neil is sweet. We had an affair yes, years ago and a few months ago we, ah…” she trailed off.

  “Rekindled it?” I offered as delicately as I could.

  “Yes,” she said. “Hank was so busy feuding with Linda and taunting that poor kid at the restaurant and doing the same with everyone else he could find. He was a man that genuinely relished conflict.” She sighed and looked off into space, her brows furrowed. After a while she said simply, “It made life contentious sometimes.”

  That sounded like a bit of an understatement.

  “Neil could see how unhappy I was and he worked hard to make it better,” she said.

  Was she implying something?

  “Better how,” I asked.

  “Better,” she insisted. “He spent time with me. He was peaceful and funny. He told me he would buy the house from Hank if I would leave him.” She laughed. “Not that that would have happened. Hank would have destroyed the house out of spite.” Evelyn smiled, her eyes filling with tears.

  My head filled with theories.

  She wiped gently at her large doe eyes so as to not mess up her makeup. Evelyn Stillwater was a delicate woman with an elegance my mother would have killed to possess. She would have made a great femme fatale, I thought.

  But then she shattered the image by saying quietly, “I did love him dearly.”

  “I believe you,” I said and meant it. Her pain was palpable.

  It didn’t feel like the moment to intrude, but there still was a murderer out there and I needed information.

  “When they found Hank,” I began gently, “Neil thought it was because of something that happened years ago. Do you have any idea what he might have been talking about?”

  Evelyn stared at me. “Hank’s sister June was in an accident. She drowned. I’m sure you know a bit about it by now if you’re half as good at ferreting information like that Detective Garza. Well, one of them was responsible for that accident, according to Hank,” she told me.

  I gasped.

  “Which one?”

  Evelyn gave a little shrug. “Hank would never discuss it with me. But I would talk to Neil about it.”

  “What did Neil say?”

  She shook her head. “You go talk to him.”

  “Do you think Neil killed your husband?” I asked.

  “I… ah… I don’t know. He’s been here quite a few times pressuring me to marry him,” Evelyn said. She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever marry again. I did love my husband. I did.” She hugged herself, and said, “Go talk to Neil.”

  Chapter 9

  I did get my shower. Eventually.

  Afterwards, when I finally entered the drawing room, clothes clean and hair freshly dried, the Aunts hushed right up. But I’d heard them arguing over something as I’d approached the room, so I was anxious to get filled in on the latest developments. My parents were, thankfully, not at home. Mother was not going to let her little girl spend a night in jail without getting a proper lecture afterwards. I was glad I could put that off indefinitely. This, though, was a mystery I could get to the bottom of real quick.

  “What are we talking about ladies?”

  Aunt Hazel took the lead. “We were discussing what to teach you next. Joe says you mastered changi
ng the apple’s color. Sarah thinks we should start you on transmogrification. Joe thinks we should teach you how to call a familiar to you.”

  “And you think?” I asked.

  “I think we should teach you how not get picked up by the police,” she said with a smirk, and leaned back against the love seat.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but the phone rang, effectively cutting me off. I picked it up. The voice on the other end was breathy ,but familiar.

  “Joe. I need to talk to Joe.” Who was that? “Ella, is your aunt there? I need to talk to her.”

  Oh wait, I knew who it was.

  I covered the receiver, and told Joe, “I think its Neil. He wants to talk to you. He sounds upset.”

  Auntie Joe jumped up and grabbed the phone from me.

  “Hello,” she said tentatively.

  I couldn’t hear what Neil was saying. I decided the next trick I wanted to learn was supernatural eavesdropping. Or I could learn how to bug phones like a proper private investigator. Either way, Auntie Joe was becoming agitated as she listened.

  “Yes, of course,” she said. “Well, why can’t you tell me over the phone?” She turned away from us. “No, that’s ridiculous. Well, yes. All right. Calm down, Neil! Calm down.”

  Auntie Joe held the phone away from her ear just in time for me to hear a woman shout, “Neil, NO!”

  A loud, short sound rang out across the line. No. It couldn’t have been— a gunshot? Could it?

  Joe covered her mouth and dropped the phone. I dove for it, but when I put it to my ear, the line was dead. The call had disconnected.

  “Was that Evelyn who screamed?” I asked the room.

  “Yes,” Joe said, twisting the fabric at the ends of her cashmere sweater. “What do we do?”

  “We call the police,” Aunt Sarah said calmly. “If that was a gunshot, we need to get the police over there right away. Someone could be hurt or worse.”

  “I’ll call the police,” Aunt Hazel said and took the phone from my nerveless fingers. She walked away, dialing.

  I turned to Auntie Joe and hugged her.

  “Girard! Bring the car around,” I shouted.