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

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Charmed to Death (A Farmer's Market Witch Mystery Series Book 1) Page 7

by Constance Barker


  I knew that people gravitated to sites of murder and mayhem. There were guides in London who would herd people down the path of Jack the Ripper’s murders. The Tower of London, with its beheadings, was always a big hit. In America, cities had ghost tours. Graves of gangsters and murderers drew many who wanted to just “see” where the killer was buried. I watched as shoppers and gawkers stopped by the yellow crime tape and stared, as if they might catch a glimpse of, well something. I supposed yellow tape could be draped around a time bomb, and people would stop to ogle. It was like slowing down at the scene of an accident. In your heart you didn't want to but the brain was curious.

  And it didn’t matter.

  “They can’t seem to get enough, can they?”

  “No, Gus, they can’t. It’s part of our nature, and I suppose it comes from marking places to avoid. Who knows?”

  I hadn’t been open more than an hour, before George ambled up, and he was all smiles.

  “Well, Elle, what a great day. And look at this crowd. You know, Larson’s murder had increased foot traffic. His death put the market on the map. Attendance is up, which means vendors are making money, and that’s what it’s all about, right? Making money?”

  “Not everything is about money,” I said. “There are other things in life.”

  George stared at me a moment, as if I had pronounced some sort of sin. “There are other things, but money makes most of those things possible. And that yellow tape is money. I don’t care if they ever take it down.”

  “You don’t care to rent out the booth?”

  “Oh, that will come, and I’ll be able to charge more, because the booth has some notoriety. It won’t last. People forget. But for this season, it’s a hit. You know, Hall’s death has paid double for me. The market is raking in money, and Martha has returned to being...Martha.”

  “She wasn’t Martha before?”

  “No, not really. When she was cheating with Hall, she was someone different. I knew something was happening, but I wasn’t sure what, or with who. Spouses know. You can’t live side by side with someone and not notice the changes. I’m not sorry Hall is gone. His death gave me back my wife.”

  “You...you’re happy he’s dead?”

  We both turned. Vera stood a few feet to the side, and it was obvious that she had overheard George. Tears leaked down her face. She was truly upset.

  “I can’t believe you said such a thing,” she said.

  George looked at Vera, and I could tell that he considered her some sort of ninny. In his mind, everyone should be happy Larson was dead.

  “Look, Vera,” George said. “I’m sorry you’re upset. But you have to admit that the death has been a good thing for all of us.”

  “You’re an ogre,” Vera said. “You're actually happy?”

  “Think about it,” George continued. “Your ex wasn’t exactly the salt of the earth. He preyed on married women, and he treated you like dirt. I would think you'd be glad he’s gone. He had to hurt you worse while he was living, than now, that he’s dead.”

  “I...I...that’s so cruel,” Vera managed to get out.

  “It’s the truth,” George said. “We’re all better off with him dead.”

  At that point, Vera sobbed. Words failed her, and she turned and hurried away, fleeing the pain that George had inflicted. He watched, amazed, as if his words had had no real effect.

  “I don’t get it, Elle,” George said. “You tell people the truth, and they break down crying. You would think it would be the lies that hurt.”

  “She knew he wasn’t perfect,” I said. “But she loved him anyway. And when a loved one dies, you feel bad. That's human nature.”

  “It’s also human nature to cut the head off a snake. We don’t mourn the snake.”

  With that, George nodded to me and walked away. I watched, wondering if he was really so callous, or if he had simply come to hate Larson so much that he didn’t mind inflicting pain.

  Had the booth not been open, I might have chased down Vera and tried to comfort her. That was probably too much. Sooner or later, she had to come to the realization that not everyone loved Larson. There were always people who were pleased that a womanizer had died. That was another side of human nature—like gaping at yellow crime tape.

  During a lull, I grabbed my phone and called Jason. I thought he should know about George and his gloating about the murder.

  “Good morning, Elle. What can I do for you?”

  “George White stopped by the booth this morning, and we had a curious conversation. I think it might speak to motive.”

  “Perhaps.”

  I gave Jason a synopsis of the conversation, George’s glee at Larson’s death. I knew that rejoicing over a death wasn’t the same as killing, but it might open up a line of questioning for Jason. After all, asking about Martha and her curious transformation seemed worthy of follow up.

  “It is something,” Jason said over the phone. “And thank you for the information. I’ll see what I can see.”

  With that Jason said goodbye, and I was a bit stunned. He had completely shut me down. It was as if I was some kind of pest. In a way, it hurt. In a way, it made me angry. I wanted more than ever to find the murderer and prove to Jason that I had value.

  Luckily, shoppers took my mind off Jason and the brush off. I finished the day without thinking about it. And it didn’t bother my sleep. In fact, I slept well, knowing I had had a good day at the market. It was such a good day that I got up early the next morning, so I could eat breakfast at the SUNRISE CAFÉ, a small diner on the town square. It was a treat, and I was into my second cup of coffee when Jason walked in.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

  CHAPTER 16

  Jason slid into the booth. A pretty waitress immediately delivered a cup of coffee and topped off my cup. I wondered just how often Jason ate breakfast at the Sunrise. It seemed he had already become a regular, although it was a known fact that the wait staff catered to law enforcement.

  “Why are you looking for me?” I asked.

  “Because, I’ve heard some talk about an amulet. I know the deceased was actively looking for an amulet, although I don’t know why. I was hoping you could fill me in.”

  “Well, the story begins with a witch named Hilda who lived a century ago. She was afraid some dark witches would latch onto her magic and use it the wrong way. So, she hid her magic in several items, including an amulet.”

  Jason’s eyes widened, as I filled him in on what the amulet was rumored to mean. I added all the information I had about Vera at the antique mall. He listened politely, which made him hard to read. I supposed having a good poker face was an asset.

  “And that’s where we stand at the moment,” I said. “It would appear Vera has the amulet, but I have no idea how she acquired it.”

  “You know I believe in magic,” Jason said. “But the Hilda legend strikes me as just that—a legend. It’s the kind of story someone made up to explain some oddity about her. You know, Uncle Joe was once a grave digger, and that’s why he has six fingers, or something like that. People make up stuff all the time.”

  “Could be,” I said. “Since I haven’t seen the amulet or letters, I can’t pass judgment on that. But if it’s the one that Larson was looking for, then, it’s curious as to how Vera got it.”

  “It is. I’ll have to look into that. Although, we don’t know that Larson ever found the amulet, right?”

  “We don’t. As far as I know, it could have been in Vera’s family for decades.”

  “Exactly. Rumor. So, how is business? Selling anything out there in the market?”

  I was a bit surprised by the change of topic, but I was fine with it. “Business is great. Yesterday’s crowd was exceptional. George White, who manages the market says that’s because of the murder. You know, a lot of looky-loos rubbernecking at the crime tape.”

  “Not at all unusual. Happens everywhere at every time.”

  “Well, tell m
e, how do you like your new home here in Abbot Rise? Meeting up to expectations?”

  Jason nodded and smiled. “You know, I started out as a park ranger in Glacier National. That was wonderful, especially because I am what I am. A lot of free range out there.”

  “Why did you quit?”

  “My father was a deputy sheriff in Montana. I guess it’s in my blood. But I didn’t want to be him. So, I moved to the city and was a cop there. But the city was confining—again because of what I am. Not so much open space. So, I came here. And I have to tell you, it’s been a great change. There’s enough space for me, and the action isn’t so intense.”

  “Is your father still out in Montana?”

  “No, no, he died, shot when he happened upon two thugs robbing a convenience store. He shot both of them before he died. He was a tough guy.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  “Don’t be sorry. He had a pretty good life, and well, he was a good role model. He taught me how to hunt and handle people in distress. That’s most of the job, helping people get through some bad times.”

  “Your mother?” I asked.

  “She’s gone too. After dad died, she wasn’t the same. You know how it goes. When someone loses a spouse, it’s hard on them. Mom was all right for a while, but without the constant interaction, she didn’t thrive. That’s a difficult thing about Montana. People don’t live close together, and, in the winter, it’s difficult to make contact. My mother was never big on social media. She needed face-to-face interactions.”

  “I understand,” I said. “Sometimes, I think we would all be better off if we didn’t rely on the Internet. It’s great, but there’s nothing like eye contact, if you know what I mean.”

  “I certainly do. People are designed to live together. Loners go crazy after a while. Is the market open today?”

  I shook my head. “Sunday is a day of rest. But we’ll be back at it tomorrow. Which reminds me, I have to go to the shop today and make more charms. That’s the problem with good business. It means more time in the work shop.”

  “Well, then, I won’t keep you. I should be out on the road too. Last point, Elle. I think it would be wise if you put your investigations aside. Not that I don’t appreciate the information. I do. But because it’s law enforcement business. Stick with your charms.”

  “You don’t think I can do it?”

  “That’s beside the point. I’m protected by my badge. You don’t have a badge. You’re not protected.”

  “I’m more than able to handle myself,” I said.

  “I agree. But, stay out of this. It’s the best thing to do.”

  I smiled, even though I didn’t agree with him. As he walked out, I told myself that I would do exactly as I pleased. He would simply have to get over it. I wasn’t about to quit now. I had something to prove.

  The shop greeted me like an old friend. Sundays were mostly creation days for me. Foot traffic was sparse, so I had time to fashion charms. Since people were busy with recreation, I didn’t get a lot of phone calls either. In a way, sitting alone with my ideas and tools and metals, was recreation for me. I liked making charms—more than I liked selling them.

  The bell over the door told me someone had entered the shop. I left my workbench and smiled as I walked behind the counter.

  Martha White smiled at me. “I think you might have something for me.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “Hello, Martha,” I said. “What brings you to my shop?”

  “Charms, Elle, charms. I need some good luck charms for the house...and, perhaps a love charm.” She smiled coyly, as if I didn’t know what she meant.

  “I have all the charms you need,” I said. “I take it things are going well with George?”

  “As well as can be expected. I mean, after what I did, I would expect some degree of coolness.”

  “Are you talking about Larson Hall?” I asked innocently.

  “Oh yes, everyone in town knows about that. George was so humiliated he could barely show his face. I don’t know how he put up with me.”

  “So, he knew about Larson?”

  “Yes, I told him. And I promised George I would quit. But I didn’t. It was so odd. I promised him and myself that I was done with Larson. Yet, I couldn’t walk away. It was maddening. I would be on my way to the dentist or someplace, and all of a sudden, I was parking in front of Larson’s house. You talk about lack of willpower.”

  “That must have bothered George too,” I said.

  “Oh, George was beside himself. I can’t tell you how many times he said he was going to kill Larson.”

  “That must have scared you.”

  “Oh, it was maddening. I had to hide his car keys and convince him not to do anything stupid. I kept pointing out that if he ‘took care’ of Larson, everyone would pay. It wasn’t just him, it was the whole family. There were times I thought he might kill me.”

  “So, how have the past few days been? I mean, since Larson’s death.”

  “Oh, the difference is night and day. I’m not happy Larson was murdered, but I am glad he’s out of my life. I’m the old Martha again. Which is why I need that love charm.”

  I pulled out a horseshoe and a four-leaf clover and put them on the counter. “These are traditional charms,” I said. “But you have to make sure the horseshoe sits open to the sky. Otherwise, the luck runs out. And here is one more.” I put an elephant on the counter. “Elephants bring good luck, but only if they face the door.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  I laid out another charm.

  “What’s that?” Martha asked.

  “It’s a lover’s lock, a Portuguese charm. It symbolizes the eternal bond and reminds the couple that all their troubles are temporary and will soon end.”

  “Perfect,” Martha said. “With luck and love, George and I will make it.”

  Martha left the shop, as happy as I had ever seen her. George was going to be a lucky man—unless there was another Larson hanging around. As I considered Martha’s confession, I wondered if she was setting me up for something. Had she been lying about George? Was she really unable to withstand Larson’s wooing? I needed perspective. I grabbed my phone and dialed Percy.

  “What can I do for you?” Percy said. “I know you didn’t call to shoot the breeze.”

  “Martha White was here to buy some charms. She ended up telling all about her affair, and how it affected George. Want to hear?”

  “When have I ever turned down a chance to hear about love affairs?”

  “Exactly.” I filled in Percy, telling him what Martha had told me. I included all the talk about being unable to control herself. “That ring true to you?” I ended.

  “It does and it doesn’t. I mean, I believe George was livid. He has that sort of reputation. Not that he was apt to fly off the handle. He’s the sort that would get even without putting himself at risk.”

  “That’s what I thought. So, I’m stuck. Think Martha was setting up something?”

  “Is she that clever? I don’t know. You need a second opinion. Call Millie.”

  “I’ll do that. If you get a brainstorm, call me.”

  “Are you kidding? I’ll post it on Facebook. I don’t have many great ideas anymore.”

  “Baloney.”

  I called Millie and told her the same information I gave Percy. Where Percy didn’t think Martha was up to something, Millie wasn’t so sure. While Martha had never been known as a conniving woman, she had managed to have an affair and keep her husband at the same time. How many women could say that? Millie said we needed more information, especially about Larson’s sway with women. That didn’t sound like the Larson Millie knew.

  “All right,” I said. “But should I share this information with Jason?”

  “I don’t see where that will help any,” Millie said. “Hasn’t Jason told you several times to stay out of the investigation?”

  “He has...but does he mea
n it?”

  Millie laughed. “Jason doesn’t strike me as a man who kids a lot.”

  “You’re hardly any fun,” I said. “But I believe you’re right. I’m not sure Jason would appreciate another call.”

  “Look at it this way. George White is already a suspect, along with half the married men in town. So, you won’t be giving him a suspect he doesn’t know about. Besides, it was just Martha talking. No one has come forward to back her up.”

  “Let sleeping dogs lie?”

  “Exactly. No need to try and stir up something. If I know you, Elle, a fracas will find you.”

  I laughed. “Millie, I avoid those at all costs.”

  I returned to making charms, adding my iota of magic to each one. I knew the ones Martha had purchased would work just fine for her. I still wasn’t convinced I was doing the right thing. But I was willing to wait.

  “Gus, you think I should call the deputy?”

  “I don’t see much advantage. He hasn’t heeded your help yet, has he? Just like a panther shifter, think they're so baaaad. Just like that scornful feline down the street.”

  “Gus, stay on topic. But you make a good point. He treats me like some sort of teenage sidekick, doesn’t he?”

  “Sounds about right.”

  The spring night was perfect, and I left my window open. It was too early for crickets, so the silence was welcome also. I slept well, knowing that I would be in the market the next day. It was heaven—until Gus jumped onto my bed. I glanced at the clock, and it was too early to get out of bed.

  “What, Gus?”

  “Someone is roaming about outside.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s someone.”

  “Where?”

  “Out front.”

  I jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs to the front window. In the gray, half-light of pre-dawn, I couldn’t tell who the person was. Even as I watched, the person ran off down the street. I grabbed the poker from the fireplace and cautiously opened the door. The last thing I needed was to meet the person’s partner. Satisfied that I wasn’t going to be mugged, I walked to the street. I looked, but the lurker had disappeared. That was when I noticed the note under my windshield wiper. I grabbed the note, knowing it was still too dark to read.

 

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