Charmed to Death (A Farmer's Market Witch Mystery Series Book 1)

by Constance Barker

  “If I come upon anything,” he said. “I’ll contact you. And you might want to get going. I don’t think this is a good place to hang out after dark.”

  “You’re absolutely right. While Abbot’s Rise is a safe town, there are always a few delinquents who can cause problems.”

  “So...so...I guess I’ll see you later,” I said.

  “Sure, sure. I’ll be in touch. Be safe.”

  Gus and I walked back to the vendors’ gate, and I could feel his eyes on me. I told myself I was being silly. He wasn’t looking at me. He had moved on. I could have verified that, had I turned and looked. But I sort of liked the idea that he was watching me walk away. For a woman, knowing that someone watched was a good feeling.

  “You like him, and I think that’s a good thing. You could use some spice in your life.”

  “I don’t know, Gus. Something about Jason Hart speaks to me. Does that sound like a love-sick teenager?”

  “It does, but you’re allowed to romance now and again.”

  I had to agree with Gus. I was allowed a romance now and again. And Jason Hart seemed to be the now and again.

  The evening passed with only a bit of guilt reminding me that I had lied to a Deputy. It was a small lie, I told myself. Nothing worth a lot of worry. But I was not in the habit of lying to anyone. In my kitchen, I placed the lighter in its plastic bag on the counter.

  Who lost it?

  How had they lost it?

  Did it have anything to do with the murder of Larson Hall?

  I didn’t know, and I couldn’t know. I went to sleep wondering.

  I was still wondering the next morning, when Percy walked into my charm shop.

  CHAPTER 7

  The clack of Millie’s knitting needles was constant. She sat in her chair in the corner of the shop, where the sun could warm her. When the market wasn’t open, Millie liked to get out of her house for a while. While she visited a number of shops on the square, mine was her favorite. She claimed my shop was her favorite, mainly because we both enjoyed a bit of magic. Millie’s shears, loom, and needles were imbued with a calming power. Her alpacas stood still for the sheering. Her loom added a bit of calm, and her needles completed the job. Anyone who put on a Millie sweater immediately enjoyed an aura of peace. I owned a Millie sweater and scarf, and they were my favorites.

  “So, who do you like for the murder?” Percy asked. “Vera, George, or Jefferson?”

  “They all have their pluses and minuses,” I said. “So, I can’t say. How about you?”

  “I like Jefferson,” Percy answered. “He’s lost the most. I mean, no fiancé, no job, no prospects. That would make me desperate.”

  “You have a point. But George has a motive too. After all, it was his wife, and I don’t think George likes to lose his possessions.”

  “You think he treats Martha like a possession?”

  “I think he weighs everything in dollars and cents. That includes his wife.”

  “That’s harsh, but I might use it.”

  “You can’t say where you go it,” I said.

  “No, no, never. In fact, I won’t mention George for that matter. But everyone will know who I’m talking about. That’s the beauty of a blog. I can say things the straight news can’t. Opinion is opinion, right?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I keep my opinions to myself—sometimes.”

  He chuckled. “Elle, you are the pinnacle of tact. And we both know it.”

  “I agree with Percy,” Millie said. “Elle knows when to keep her mouth closed.”

  “Because you taught me,” I said.

  “Hah!” Millie answered, but I knew she appreciated my comment. Millie was a bit older than me, and she had taught me a lot, especially about the farmer’s market. Millie led me as she would lead one of her alpacas.

  “You two can trade compliments all day,” Percy said. “But I have to get going. The words must flow from these fingers.”

  Even as Percy started for the door, it opened.

  Tabitha entered.

  The clacking of the knitting needles ended.

  Tabitha Jones was of an indeterminate age. I estimated mid-forties, but I might have been off by twenty years either way. She was dressed in white jeans, white boots, white blouse, white earrings, and white bracelets. Long blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and cherry-red lipstick, Tabitha looked as fresh as the spring rain. Looking at her, no one would know that she was a dark witch, a powerful dark witch. I knew little about her, because as a white witch I didn’t mix with dark witches. We used different magic. She was well versed in black magic. I stuck with the white.

  “Hello, Elle,” Tabitha said. “I was hoping you would be open.” She turned to Millie. “Nice to see you too, Millie. How are the alpacas?”

  “Very good, Tabitha, thanks for asking.”

  “Percy,” Tabitha said. “I find your latest literary efforts to be among your best. I do hope you’ll be able to solve the murder of poor Larson.”

  “I’m doing my best,” Percy said. “But you know as well as I do, the police are the people who will catch the killer.”

  “Nice to see you, Tabitha,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

  “I have an ailing friend,” Tabitha said. “And I was hoping you had some charms that would help.”

  “I believe I do. Give me a minute.”

  I started sifting through my display cases, looking for charms that would provide a bit of comfort. Even as I did, I wondered if she was telling the truth. Tabitha had never been in my shop before. It seemed odd, especially since she kept talking.

  “Are you like me?” Tabitha asked. “Do you find Larson’s murder absolutely appalling? I mean, murder here in sleepy, little Abbot’s Safe? It doesn’t seem possible, does it?”

  “It is improbable,” Percy said. “But it did happen.”

  “Oh, I know, I know, and to think, I was there that day.”

  “You were?” Percy asked, suddenly interested.

  “I was there to buy some pickles. My mother adores Hall’s pickles. I have to admit I find them delicious also. Do you like them, Percy?”

  “I do and don’t. They taste so good, I can’t put them down. But the spices don’t agree with me, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, I do, I do. There are more than a few people who say that about the pickles. I manage quite nicely. But I wasn’t there just for the pickles. I’m considering renting a booth and selling herbs. I went to Larson for advice.”

  “Did he give you any?”

  “Lots, when he wasn’t trying to seduce me. You know Larson. He was always trying to seduce pretty women. I must confess, he was attentive and said the most provocative things. I’m sure lots of women swoon over such suggestions, but I was mostly immune. I mean, my head wasn’t going to turn for some sweet nothings.”

  I listened as I sought out the Sanskrit design, I knew meant good luck in India. I wanted a silver angel and a four-leaf clover and a hamsa hand I could add to a green agate bracelet. That would make a very nice get-well gift.

  “I believe it was Larson’s love life that got him murdered,” Tabitha continued. “When a man sleeps around on his wife, bad things happen. The wife doesn’t like it, and she gets mad. And the other woman gets mad he goes on to someone new. The husbands of those women get mad when they find out. So, sooner or later, the Casanova gets it in the neck.”

  I added the charms to the bracelet, glancing at Millie and Percy now and again. They seemed mesmerized by Tabitha and her theatrics. I wondered just what she was up to.

  “But with all the possibles around,” she continued. “I’m betting on George White or James Jefferson. I have it on good authority that Larson slept with Martha and James’ fiancé. Both of those men would not abide such conduct. Oh, I should mention that I saw James at the booth, and he had curious red spots on his shoes. I’m not at all sure the police noticed that.”

  I held up the bracelet. “Here is what you’re looking for. With any luck, yo
ur mother will feel better immediately.”

  “Elle, you’re the best. What do I owe?”

  We settled on a price, and Tabitha smiled as she counted out the bills.

  “I’m certain my mother will be just fine.” With a wiggly-fingered wave, Tabitha left the shop.

  “What was that about?” Percy said.

  The clack Millie’s needles filled the shop. “I think she was working really hard to tell us something,” Millie said.

  “I agree,” I said. “But I’m not sure what the message was.”

  “The message is that she’s whacko,” Percy said. “You know her. Does she have a screw loose?”

  “I assure you,” I said. “Tabitha does not have a loose screw. She knows exactly what’s she’s doing. We’re the ones who need to interpret.”

  “I’m guessing, she wants us to call the police and tell them her theories,” Millie said. “And that would not be a bad idea.”

  “I’m not going to do her work for her,” I said. “She can talk to the police.”

  “What do you think of Jefferson?” Percy asked. “He our killer?”

  “I have no idea,” Millie said. “Do you think this blue is too...blue?”

  “No, it’s perfect,” Percy said.

  I listened as Millie and Percy debated the pros and cons of the bright blue. I didn’t listen closely. I was thinking that I needed to catch up with Jefferson. But how was I going to do that?

  “Gus, I need to talk to James Jefferson.”

  “I agree, but how are we going to do that?”

  “Carefully, Gus, very carefully.”

  CHAPTER 8

  I left Gus at home, which was perfectly fine with him. He found no joy waiting in the car, while I browsed the mall with Millie. She wanted to buy a new blender, as her old one had died. Trying to fix a blender would cost more than buying new, and she needed a blender, as she was a fan of healthy smoothies. Millie was not a big fan of the Abbot Rise mall, which was why she asked me to come along. She called me her “conscience”, as I always asked her if she really needed something. Curiously, Millie was like a kid in a toy store at times. She would buy things she couldn’t even use. Another reason why she loved her farm.

  “What do you think about an espresso machine?” Millie asked as we approached the kitchen appliance and gadget store.

  “You don’t drink coffee,” I said. “You drink tea.”

  “Yes, but espresso machines look so cool. I might learn to like coffee.”

  “You tried it, remember? You said it tasted like dirty socks.”

  Millie laughed. “I did, didn’t I, but coffee does smell good.”

  “So does gasoline, but you’re not going to sniff that.”

  “You’re right, gasoline does smell good. Why is that?”

  “Why are we here, Millie?”

  “To get a new blender. You know there are far too many gadgets in this store. I could buy one of everything.”

  “And put them in a drawer, never to see the light of day again.”

  She laughed. “Elle, you are the best.”

  We rounded the corner of an aisle, and right in front of us stood James Jefferson. We stopped automatically.

  “Is that...” Millie asked.

  “It is. I’m going to say hello.”

  “You think that’s wise?”

  “Opportunity, Millie, opportunity.”

  I walked up to James, as he was studying a very small collection of...ice picks.

  “Hello, Mr. Jefferson,” I said.

  He turned. “Hello. You’re Elle, right. And call me James.”

  James smiled, and I noticed his hazel eyes, a blend of colors that was striking. He was not handsome, but his face held a certain look. His smile was good enough, even if he didn’t show his teeth. There was a healing bruise on the side of his head, and I wondered how he got it. A recent haircut had trimmed away most of his dirty-blonde hair. Although not particularly large, he looked fit and strong. Hard work, I supposed.

  “This is my friend, Millie,” I said.

  “I know you,” James said to Millie. “You’re the alpaca lady.”

  “I am,” Millie said. “Need a sweater?”

  He laughed.

  “Well, James, in the market for an ice pick?” I asked.

  “I am. It seems I lost mine. And there aren’t that many here. I guess no one uses an ice pick anymore, not with fridges that make ice by the cube.”

  “That’s true,” I said. “Why do you need one?”

  If James wondered why I was asking about ice picks, it didn’t show.

  “Well, I freeze water in rather large blocks, which are good for the fishing I do. They melt more slowly than cubes, but I’m not sure why. So, when I want ice for drinks, I have to use a pick to create chips. It’s old-fashioned, but it works. And Anna likes ice in her drinks.”

  “Anna? Your...ex-fiancé?”

  He shook his head. “Not anymore. Anna is back. She called and apologized for what she had done. She said it was the strangest relationship she had ever had, as Larson seemed to have some sort of magical charm. She couldn’t fight it. In fact, she hardly remembered it. I thought she was lying to me, but she was sincere. She really doesn’t remember much about that cad. Larson was the worst of the worst. He preyed on women. It’s a good thing he’s dead.”

  “You think Larson used some sort of drug?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. It sounds like it, doesn’t it? She lost her will, and when it was over, she wondered what she saw in him.”

  “Is that why he fired you? For asking about a drug?”

  James touched the side of his head, as if reliving something. “Yes, I confronted Larson, and we had a, well, a fight of sorts. It didn’t last long. He hit me on the side of the head, and I was out. When I woke, I was in my car. And in no condition to continue a stupid fight. I should have known better. What do you think, traditional wooden handle, or sleek plastic?”

  James held up two different ice picks.

  “Traditional,” Millie said. “The ones that weather the years are best.”

  “I think you’re right.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to get going. Anna and I are going to celebrate tonight. It’s one of those make-up things.” He smiled. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that Larson is dead. Yet, in a way, I could almost thank him. In the end, Anna and I are closer than ever.”

  He took his ice pick and headed for the checkout. Millie and looked at each other.

  “That was odd,” Millie said. “He’s rather happy that Larson is dead.”

  “I don’t think anyone will blame him for that. And the ice pick, what happened to his old one?”

  “He didn’t say, did he? I mean, it might have been found sticking out of Larson’s ear.”

  “Millie, that’s funny, but I shouldn’t laugh. What do you think of James?”

  “I think he’s an odd duck in some ways, and I won’t leave him alone with my alpacas. He gives me the creeps.”

  “He does, doesn’t he. I wonder if he was lying about Larson’s magical charm. I never experienced it, did you?”

  Millie shook her head. “I always found Larson rather ham-handed, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do. He wasn’t exactly subtle, was he?”

  We came to the blenders, and the store had a good display of them—all sizes, shapes, and prices.

  “Oooh, oooh,” Millie said. “I think I like the one with all the buttons.”

  “Take a moment,” I said. “Ask yourself what you need the blender for. Most of those functions you’ll never use.”

  “You’re right, you’re right. But it looks so cool.”

  While Millie decided which blender to buy, I asked myself who needed to know about James’ missing ice pick. A name immediately popped into my head.

  Jason Hart.

  CHAPTER 9

  I waited until I was safe inside my house before I pulled out Jason’s card and called him on his cell phone
. He answered right away.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Jason, this is Elle.”

  “Elle, how good to hear from you. Do you mind if I add your number to my list of contacts? That way, I’ll know when you call.”

  “Go right ahead,” I said. “I called about James Jefferson.”

  “What about him?”

  “Well, Millie and I ran into him at the mall. He was buying a new ice pick. He said he lost his old one. That sounded suspicious to me, and I thought you should know.”

  “That is interesting,” he said. “And I appreciate the tip. Now, I’ll give you one. Stay away from Jefferson. I know you’re trying to be helpful, but I’ve found that amateurs generally muddy the water. Guilty people use them to create doubt, when the case goes to trial.”

  “You don’t want my help?”

  “I’ll take any information you happen to run across, but I’m asking you to not actively pursue anything. Will you do that for me?”

  Jason’s tone did not sit well with me. I was expecting some thanks and encouragement, and he was chiding me.

  “Sure, sure,” I said. “Got you loud and clear. I have to go. Goodbye.”

  I didn’t wait for his reply. I was miffed. He had treated me like some child he could pat on the head and send to the kitchen for milk and cookies. That didn’t sit well at all. I could investigate as well as he could.

  What do you think, Gus, time to do a bit of looking around?

  You should think twice before you leap once.

  I am thinking. I’m thinking I need to get inside James’ house and look around.

  Easier said than not.

  Not if you help.

  James had rented a small house on the outskirts of Abbot Rise. My plan called for Gus to position himself outside and tell me when James left the house. I would then apparate into the house and snoop, while Gus kept watch. It made perfect sense to me, which was why I should have thought it over a few more times. Instead, I turned Gus loose. He trotted off to James house, while I prepared the portal circle.

  I used blue chalk to create the circle on the basement concrete floor. I sprinkled fairy dust inside the circle. Then, I added the address I wanted. I wished I had a photo of the house, but the address would have to do. Then, I sat back and waited. I knew Gus would soon be in position. Then, it was just a matter of time.