“It was a good business day,” I said. “But we do have a murder on our hands.”
“Yes, yes, and that’s awful. Don’t get me wrong. Hall’s death must be solved, and it will be. No murder goes unsolved on my watch. While a single murder might bring in the curious and help with business, another murder will do just the opposite. And murders come in bunches, if I’m not mistaken.”
I thought George had watched too many murder mysteries on TV. Those mysteries always seemed to have multiple victims.
“I’m just glad I’m not a suspect,” George said. “Martha and I were out of town last night. We drove over to Mill Creek and took her parents to dinner for their anniversary. Stayed the night and didn’t come back till after the murder was discovered. That’s a relief, believe me. With what Hall tried with Martha, I would have been suspect number one.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” I said.
“It’s true, it’s true. You ask around. People will tell you that I hated Hall. That’s not true. I didn’t, exactly, hate Hall. But I certainly didn’t want to be around him. In fact, I thought about not letting him rent a booth this year. Luckily, I didn’t let personal feelings override my business sense. Hall was good for the market.”
This man doesn’t have a sympathetic bone in his body.
I agree, Gus. And I’m guessing his one-track mind is the reason Martha talked to Larson in the first place.
George looked down the aisle to the yellow crime tape. “I’m going to let that tape stay up as long as possible. People from all around will stop and wonder about the murder. You’re lucky, Elle. They’ll walk right past your booth. You’ve managed to rent a prime location.”
“I would just as soon the tape disappear,” I said. “I don’t think murder is a good advertising message.”
“Oh, people will say they don’t like murder, but you read the papers. If it bleeds, it leads. That’s what people like to see, a bit of blood, a bit of death. Nothing too close and nothing too personal, but death just the same. Why do you think the Tower of London is such a great tourist attraction? I was there once, and all anyone talked about was the number of people beheaded there. I know people. I ignore what they say and look at what they do. That’s the key. You have to know their behavior.”
I could tell that George was serious. He really did want the tape to mark the murder—for a long time. But I wasn’t sure about his motive. I thought that he might want the tape to remind him of a vanquished rival. And Larson had been a rival.
“No wonder you’re such a good businessman,” I said. “You know how to read people.”
He perked up at that, smiling wider. I reminded myself that a bit of flattery went a long way. He leaned closer, even though there was no one close enough to overhear us.
“I’ll tell you something else,” he said. “And I trust you to use discretion here. I’m not the only person on the suspect list. No siree bob. There’s someone else who is more than a little happy that Hall is dead.” He leaned even closer, whispering. “James Jefferson.”
“Jefferson?” I asked. “Wasn’t he fired for stealing pickle recipes?”
“That’s the rumor. That’s what Hall wanted everyone to believe. But that wasn’t it. Jefferson and Hall had a very loud and nasty argument about the real reason. You see, Hall went after Jefferson’s fiancé. In fact, Hall sent Jefferson all the way to South Carolina to check on some spices Hall wanted to use. While Jefferson was traipsing through some swamps, Hall was seducing Jefferson’s girl, the one he had asked to marry him. I don’t know all the details, but when Jefferson came back, he had it out with Hall. So, hall fired Jefferson.”
“And the fiancé?” I asked. “What about her?”
“I don’t know it all, but Jefferson ended a three-year engagement. You can hardly blame him. Trust is the only thing that makes a marriage work. All I’m saying is that Jefferson had a big and very personal reason to kill Hall.”
I could tell from George’s smile that he was pleased with himself. He was certain he had determined who the killer had to be. And, he might have been right. James Jefferson was tailor made for the murder. A three-year engagement was quite an investment. Was it enough to propel a murder? I didn’t want to answer my own question.
But I was intrigued.
George put a finger up the side of his nose. “Between you and me and the fence post, right?”
I nodded. “No need to say more.”
With that, George moved on, passing out his version of good cheer. Since the market was not empty, I packed up and wheeled what I had left to the SUV. Gus, on his leash, padded beside me.
“Does anyone really like that man?”
“I'm sure someone does, Gus. But no one likes him more than he likes himself.”
“A man who loves himself will have no rivals.”
I chuckled at Gus’s astute assessment of George. As I drove home, I thought I needed to talk to Vera. I thought she might be too naive for her own good.
But how was I to do that?
CHAPTER 5
The best thing about my little shop on the square was the workroom in back. That was where I conceived and executed my ideas. That was where I experimented with odd-shaped charms, two-piece charms, charms with tiny bells, and charms with rainbow colors. I created animal charms and initial charms and plant charms and zodiac charms. Most of the charms were easy to make, but there were some that required a fine eye and exquisite touch. Those were my favorite. The more work I put into a charm, the better I liked it. There was a certain pride in workmanship. Every charm was also imbued with an iota of magic, just a little something that would make the buyer feel a tad better. I didn’t feel the magic was cheating, as it only worked if the piece was sold. That seemed fair. Of course, it sometimes led to repeat buyers.
As I worked through the easier charms, the ones I needed for the next market day, I wondered how I might visit Vera. While Vera was gentle, I had watched enough true crime TV shows to know that sometimes a person simply had had enough. They snapped, and that iron skillet became the weapon of choice. And if anyone knew how to push his ex over the edge, it was Larson. I didn’t doubt that he could drive a saint to murder. I was considering my options, when the bell over the door rang.
“Be right there,” I called out and finished the charm.
The front of my shop was all displays, cases of charms of every size, theme, and material. Some things sold better than others, and I kept my cases filled. My business wasn’t so brisk that I could afford a limited inventory. As I left the workroom, I found Vera on the other side of the counter. She looked as if she hadn’t slept, her eyes bloodshot and filmy. Her brown hair needed a good brushing, and her blouse was wrinkled. She had the disheveled look of someone who no longer cared about their appearance.
“Good morning, Vera,” I said. “How are you?”
“Not good, Elle, not good. It seems the police think I killed Larson. I would never do that, never. They wanted to know about the late alimony payments. Did you tell them? Because I told you. I think I told you. I’m in a fog sometimes. It’s maddening.”
“Everyone knows about the alimony,” I said truthfully. “It’s not a secret. Neither is the fact that he cheated on you. The whole town knows about that. And I’m sure the police asked about that too.”
“They did, they did, and I was so...humiliated. You have no idea how difficult it is to admit that your husband, the man you love, ran around with other women.”
“The police probably think you had had enough,” I said.
“Oh, they do. They tried to get to admit that I wanted Larson dead. But I didn’t want him dead, Elle. I hated him for what he did to me, but I still loved him. Is that messed up, or what? How can you hate with one hand and love with the other? I can’t believe it myself sometimes.”
“Emotions are funny things. What makes you smile today might make you cry tomorrow. I know you put up with a lot, Vera. Most women wouldn’t have stuck by Larson as long as you did.
And I’ll tell you this. In time, the pain will subside. It has to. You’ll go on. We all do. Life is funny that way. Just when we think we can’t take any more, we find a way to keep going.”
“That’s true, that’s true. You know what would help, one of you charms. That would bring a little joy to my life.”
“Of course,” I said and opened a display case. “How does a unicorn sound? They’re mythical and generally make people feel better.”
I grabbed a little silver unicorn and held it out to her.
“No, no, Elle, I can’t take that. I can’t pay for it either.”
“Nonsense. This will lessen the sting perhaps. We all need a bit of happy in our lives.”
Vera accepted the unicorn with a genuine smile, and I made sure to activate the bit of magic. Vera would feel better for a day or two.
“Thank you so much, Elle. I...I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Go home and do what you have to do, Vera. In the end, that’s all we can do. If you need anything, call me. I’ll do what I can.”
Vera nodded and shuffled out into the spring sunshine. I felt sorry for her. Despite that, I still wasn’t convinced she hadn’t killed her husband. An ice pick was the sort of weapon a woman might choose. And a man like Larson was apt to give a woman ample opportunity to use it. I returned to my work. It was just before lunch when the bell rang a second time.
“Hello,” Deputy Hart said, as I emerged from the back.
“Hello, Deputy Hart,” I said. “What brings you?”
“Call me Jason, and I just wanted to stop by and see if you had thought of anything else I should know.”
“Just stopped by?”
“I had business in the courthouse, and it’s a short walk...on a nice day.”
“It is.” I smiled, wondering if I should tell him about the amulet. I had no idea if it had any bearing on the murder, but it was something.
“Well,” I said. “I remembered that Larson Hall had been hunting down a special, antique necklace. Rumor has it that he actually hired a psychic to help find the item. I don’t know if that’s true, so don’t quote me.”
“Trust me, I won’t. You don’t happen to know that this necklace looks like, do you?”
“No, I don’t. I have no idea if it matters at all. The item might be a gift for someone. But I thought you should know.”
“I’ll add it to the case file. Who knows, maybe it will mean something later.”
“So, how do you like Abbot’s Rise?” I asked.
“It’s very nice. Quite different from Baltimore, where I worked before. I’m very happy to be here. I was getting tired of getting shot at.”
“I’m sure you were.”
We chatted for a bit about his former life in the big city. I learned he wasn’t married and that he liked his steaks rare and his coffee black. He was a bit guarded about his family and upbringing, but I thought that natural. I didn’t reveal much either. There was no reason to hand out a list of likes and dislikes.
“Well, I have to move along,” he said. “If you think of anything more, call.”
“I will,” I said.
Not two minutes after Jason left, Percy cruised through the door.
“My, my, getting chummy with the local deputy?” Percy asked.
“He was following up about Larson’s murder,” I answered.
“It looked a bit more than that.”
“You’re chasing smoke.”
“Maybe I should add a little item about you and the deputy to my blog.”
“If you do, I’ll kick your butt all over Abbot’s Rise,” I said.
He laughed. “I believe you would too. So, tell me, who’s your number one suspect?”
I shrugged. “I don’t have a clue at the moment. I suppose Vera is the logical suspect. She had more than enough reason to end Jason’s life. Although, since they were divorced, any inheritance might be in jeopardy. I suppose you already know about James Jefferson.”
Percy nodded. “Yes, and I wanted to ask you which story is true, the one about the recipes, or the one about the fiancé.”
“I don’t know. Either way, he had a motive for killing Larson.”
Percy pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled. “Yes, the result is the same, but we have to be clear before we put anything on paper.”
“I agree. The important thing to remember is that there is still a killer in area. Until the murder is solved, people are in danger.”
“You have a succinct way of putting it. I agree. We have a killer on the loose, and we do not yet know why Larson was killed.”
Percy hung around for a few more minutes, pumping me for information about a new store opening up across the square. I told him I had no idea what TRANSFORMATIONS was all about. Then, I didn’t really care—unless it was another charm shop. I didn’t need competition.
“Busy day,” Gus said. “What is it about the deputy?”
“I don’t know. I felt it too. We need to keep our eyes open.”
“Are you going to do a bit of investigating?”
“I was thinking about it.”
“The market is closed, but that shouldn’t stop us.”
“I like the way you think, Gus.”
CHAPTER 6
The vendors’ gate was closed, but the lock was a digital one that all the licensed vendors knew. While the market was closed, vendors often restocked their booths or used the down time to change things around. So, Gus and I didn’t stick out, as we strolled toward my booth. The bright sun felt warm on my back, despite the cool, brisk wind. Spring was a volatile season in the Midwest, and the wind reminded me of that.
We stopped at my booth, more as a decoy move than anything else. I didn’t think anyone was following me, but if someone were watching, I wanted to look as if it was just a routine visit. After a few minutes of cleanup, we left my booth and headed for Larson’s. I looked around, but I spotted no one. We seem perfectly alone.
The yellow, crime tape flapped in the wind, making a lonely sound. I considered ducking under the tape and looking at the crime scene, but that didn’t seem like a good thing to do. I was pretty sure the forensic team had gleaned all the information possible from the scene, as they were always thorough. And the tape would come down soon enough. I would have my chance to go over the scene for myself.
But I could walk around the booth.
“All right, Gus, you get to sniff out the place. Give me a report.”
“I’m certain you don’t want to know about every smell I pick up. You have no idea the poop and pee bouquet that draws me.”
“You’re correct. Just the humans.”
We walked between booths slowly, taking a good look around. I guessed the police had worked the outside of the booth also, so I didn’t expect to find anything—and I didn’t. on the back side of the booth, there was some open grass, before a line of bushes marked the extent of the market. Since there were no houses or roads on the other side of the hedge, I wondered if the police had bothered searching back there. After all, who would go that way?
I moseyed back to the hedge and walked along.
“You see it?” Gus asked.
“I do.”
What we both spotted was something shiny under a bush, half hidden by a fallen leaf. In fact, from the booth the item was completely invisible. From my purse, I pulled out a plastic bag, something to carry charms in, and used the bag to pick up the item. It was a chrome lighter with a large “J” engraved on it. For a moment, I wondered what to do with it. Since it was not part of the murder scene and could have been under the leaf for some time, I didn’t feel a need to hand it over to the police. It could have been lost by anyone sneaking through the hedge to get to the market. I studied the lighter for a minute, trying to capture any more information, but it was a common brand. Only the “J” made it unique.
“Smell anyone on the lighter, Gus?”
“No, it’s been out in the dew too long.”
I started bac
k to the booth, and I slipped the lighter into my purse as I exited the aisle.
“Well, hello,” some said.
I turned, an innocent smile on my face. “Hello to you too, Jason.”
The Deputy was still in uniform, so I reasoned he was still on duty. Not that it mattered.
“Can I ask what you were doing back there?” he asked. “This is still a working crime scene.”
“Last week, I lost a charm bracelet in the grassy area. It was almost dark, and well, I didn’t have a chance to look for it until now.”
“Did you find it?”
“No, no I didn’t. I suppose someone walked through and happened to find it. There is no way to identify the owner. I mean, it didn’t have my name on it, or anything. I thought I might get lucky, as this is a day the market is closed.”
He smiled, and I couldn’t read him. I had no idea if he believed me or not.
“Don’t you hate that? I mean, whenever I lose something, I think that I’m an idiot, especially if the item doesn’t have my name on it.”
“That’s part of living, I suppose. Guilt will nag at me for a day or two, but then, I’ll forget. Sometimes, it’s good to have as short memory.”
“I’m sure you’re right about that. Was the necklace valuable?”
“No, no, just a few charms on an ordinary bracelet. Nothing really. If it were valuable, I’d put up a notice or something.”
“I’m sure that it will turn up. Most people are basically honest.”
“I’m not going to worry about it.”
We stared at each other, and I had the feeling he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to say it. I felt the same thing. Only, I didn’t know what to say. If I had been honest with myself, I would have asked him about a magical connection. But asking that question was always difficult. Witches were not welcome in most parts of the world. We had to be careful.
Charmed to Death (A Farmer's Market Witch Mystery Series Book 1) Page 3