by Cindy Stark
From a financial aspect, she couldn’t complain.
Though she was spending more and more of her time crafting in the backroom.
Still, the late autumn day had bloomed bright and cheery. The atmosphere soaked into her soul and made it easier for Hazel to forget the turmoil swirling around Stonebridge.
Samhain loomed on the horizon, and Hazel wished she could mend the divide of the town and celebrate in the open with her witchy sisters. An unlikely scenario, but she could hope.
Her phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. Peter.
She pressed the answer button. “Hello there, Chief Parrish. How can I help you this fine morning?”
He chuckled. “Good to hear a happy voice. I need it today.”
She knew her predicament had spilled into his life like a sticky mess, making his job more difficult. “Is there something I can help with?”
Unfortunately, with her being in the center of the town’s spotlight, she’d had to keep her sleuthing to a minimum. Hard to be discreet and discuss others’ problems when the focus was on her. She’d sent Gretta out with most deliveries, which put a serious damper on her ability to ask questions about Gracie’s murder.
Peter sighed. “Yeah. It seems everyone around here has an opinion, and they all think I want to hear them.”
She understood that too well. “I’m sure it would help if we could find Gracie’s killer.”
“I’m working on it. I spoke with Samuel this morning, but, as you can imagine, he gave me nothing. He insists he was with Timothy in Salem at the time of the murder. He has a gas receipt and a coffee shop receipt showing purchases for two people just before the time of Gracie’s death. No way they could have made it back to Stonebridge in time.”
Hazel senses tingled, and she wasn’t buying their story. “That’s convenient. What if only one of them was there but purchased coffee or whatever for two to give the other person an alibi?”
He cleared his throat. “That’s why I called. I’m heading to Salem in a few minutes to interview the coffee shop clerks and to see if the shop has surveillance video to corroborate Samuel’s story. Wondered if you wanted to come with and grab lunch while we’re out? Is Gretta available to cover the shop?”
Escaping into anonymity for a while sounded like heaven. “She should be. I have her sister working here this morning, too. Business has been kind of crazy.”
He chuckled. “You know what they say. Any publicity is good publicity.”
“I suppose. But it wasn’t my intent to profit off this. Especially not after Gracie lost her life trying to help me.”
He countered her statement with a shake of his head. “You can’t take the blame for that. Her death is all on Gracie’s killer, and I promise, we’ll find the person who did it and see that justice is served.”
Her heart ached for Gracie and her family. A young woman with so much promise, ruthlessly taken from this world. “We won’t stop looking until we do.”
She glanced at the clock. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll let the girls know I’m leaving.”
“Great,” Peter said. “I’ll pick you up outside your shop in five.”
Hazel notified Gretta and Katie of her intentions for the afternoon, gathered her things, and waited near the front door.
Golden autumn sun shone down on Main Street, but Hazel knew it wouldn’t be long before they’d be feet deep in snow and the temperatures would drop below zero. She didn’t have many days like this left in the year, and she needed to enjoy them.
“I’m going to wait outside for Peter,” Hazel said to Gretta who stood at the cash register.
“Be safe,” Gretta called as Hazel pulled open the door and stepped outside.
Crisp, fresh air surrounded her, and she breathed deeply. Instead of standing still and looking silly, she turned toward the police station and started walking. She was in broad daylight with several others on the street. She’d be safe enough.
“Psst. Hazel.”
The loud whisper came from an alley between her building and the next. She paused and glanced at the young woman hiding next to a dumpster.
Liesl Goodman motioned her to come closer. The woman might have held some animosity toward Hazel because she’d implicated her in a previous case, but Liesl wasn’t dangerous.
Hazel squinted to see the woman better and found it more than a little interesting that Liesl had dyed her hair bright red again. During the investigation into hairdresser Valerie Linquist’s murder, Liesl had sworn to everyone that she hadn’t seen Valerie the morning of her death and that she’d never color her hair that shade.
In fact, she’d chastised Hazel for pointing her out as a potential witness or suspect. Liesl hadn’t been guilty of Valerie’s murder, but the current shade of her hair suggested Hazel had been right about her lying.
Hazel stood at the entrance to the alley but didn’t enter. She wanted to call out Liesl on her hair but decided she didn’t need more drama. “Hey, Liesl. What’s up?”
Liesl crept cautiously closer, continuously glancing past Hazel as though they might be caught talking. “I wondered if you could help me.”
She shrugged. “Of course. What do you need?”
When Liesl stood within several feet of her, Hazel noticed red rims around Liesl’s eyes, and tears stained her cheeks.
Liesl sniffed. “Is it true you’re a witch?”
Hazel honed her senses to search deeper for danger before she nodded.
“So, you can do things like spells and potions?”
“Yes. I do them sometimes, but only for good. I’d never want to hurt anyone. Why do you ask?”
Liesl nodded. “I didn’t mean that you were bad or anything. I just wondered if you could do one for me.”
Hazel wasn’t sure that was a good idea. If anything went wrong, the town would hate her. If it went right, then everyone would be asking her to do the same for them. “What kind of spell or potion?”
She blinked several times and exhaled. “A love potion, maybe? My boyfriend broke up with me, and I feel like I’m going to die. Seriously, I can’t live like this. I know we were meant to be together. I just need something to help him see that, too.”
Hazel graced her with a gentle smile. “Oh, Liesl. I’m so sorry. Breakups can be painfully difficult.”
Liesl curled a fist over her heart as though to protect it, and her gaze turned hopeful. “Can you help me then?”
Hazel wished she and Liesl could sit in a booth at Cora’s and chat for a while, but that wasn’t an option. “First off, love potions are created with a powerful spell that generates bad karma. I don’t like to mess with them. But more than that, Liesl, don’t you want a man who loves you with his whole heart? Not someone you had to trick to fall in love with you? If you’re truly meant to be together, he will come back.”
Fresh tears slipped from Liesl’s eyes. “What if he doesn’t?”
Hazel stepped closer and put a comforting hand on Liesl’s forearm. “Then you must have faith that someone better will come along. A lifetime is a long time to spend with a person. How do you think you’ll feel wondering every day if he truly loves you, or if you had to make him love you? Do you see what I mean?”
Liesl paused for several long seconds as she stared at Hazel, but then she nodded. “It’s just…it’s so hard.”
She wrapped Liesl in a warm hug. “I know it is. At some point in life, everyone goes through it. But we survive. You just need to hang on long enough until happiness rolls around again. And it will.”
Liesl swiped at her tears. “I’m not very good at the waiting thing.”
She chuckled. “Trust me. None of us are.”
Liesl exhaled a shaky breath and blinked away her tears. “A potion seems much easier, but I understand why you can’t. Thank you for listening. It helps, and I don’t have anyone else I can tell. My mother already hates him, and she’d be celebrating if she knew we broke up.”
Hazel understood that far too well
. “Trust me. My mother is exactly the same.”
Liesl blinked several times and nodded. “I’m sorry about lurking in the alley waiting for you. I didn’t want anyone to see me or to know I’d asked you.”
Hazel sent her a mock look of concern. “You know, you could have been standing here all day, and I might not have walked by.”
Liesl gave her a watery smile. “That’s what I did yesterday.”
They both laughed.
“I was desperate,” Liesl added.
Hazel understood that feeling all too well when Victor had broken her heart. “You know what I find works best for man troubles? Ice cream. At Cora’s. Doesn’t fix anything, but it makes me realize there are still good things in this world.”
Liesl nodded. “I’ll try that.”
“Good.”
Hazel peeked around the building and down the street, surprised Peter hadn’t pulled up already. She couldn’t imagine what might be keeping him. “I’m sorry, but I need to get going. The chief should be picking me up any minute.”
Liesl gave her another hug before Hazel continued on her way. Poor thing.
Hazel peeked into Cora’s as she passed, wishing she could pop in for a quick hello. But maybe she needed to be patient like Liesl. For now, time was her friend, and she needed to let it work its magic.
“Now the witch is back, and there will be hell to pay,” yelled a man from behind her.
Tingles of alarm erupted on her skin. The voice inside her told her to run, but she refused to be a coward. She halted and turned.
Tony Lemon strode toward her looking every bit the weathered seaman with his fists clenched and an angry look on his gray-whiskered face.
She prayed for calm and strength. “Excuse me?”
He stopped within feet and jabbed a fierce finger in her direction. “You heard me, witch. Only the hell to pay won’t be ours. It will be yours.”
His ferocity forced her to take a step back. “Are you threatening me, Tony? Because you don’t scare me. Although I’m more than happy to file a complaint with local law enforcement that you’ve harassed me.”
He released a harsh laugh. “Of course, you would now that you’ve got the police chief in your bed.”
She narrowed her gaze and shot him an unpleasant look.
“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “He won’t have his job for long. Already, people are calling for his resignation.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Minnie Delaney come out of Cora’s. She took one look at Hazel with Tony before she hurried in the opposite direction.
Hazel pursed her lips in frustration. She really could have used some backup at that moment.
Instead, she faced her foe alone. “Why do you have to be so nasty, Tony? What have I ever done to you?”
He inhaled a breath and straightened to his full height. “For starters, you poisoned me.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I did what? No.”
He jutted his chin toward her. “With that bee sting ointment you ‘created’ for everyone. No wonder it worked better than anything else.”
She nearly snorted. “You’re angry with me because I provided relief for you and your family when you were hurting?”
Her question took him aback, and he paused for several seconds. “You poisoned us. You gave me something without disclosing what it contained. I don’t want your vile magic. I would have rather suffered,” he said, yelling the last word.
She was certain Mrs. Lemon and her grandchildren would disagree.
Peter passed by in his cruiser, made a quick U-turn, and pulled up next to them. He exited the car, leaving the driver’s door open, and strode quickly toward them with one hand on the butt of his gun. “Everything okay, Hazel?”
Tony released an angry expletive before he turned and stomped away. He jerked open the café’s door and disappeared inside.
Hazel’s pulse pounded in her chest. “I’m fine. Tony just wanted to make it clear that he didn’t appreciate the salve I gave him last summer to help with his family’s bee stings. Said I poisoned them.”
Peter narrowed his gaze in disbelief. “What? Are you kidding?”
A smile born of incredulity curved her lips, and she released a huff of laughter. “Insane, isn’t it?”
She stepped closer to Peter and tucked her arm around his elbow. His warmth and strength calmed her chaffed spirit. “Don’t worry. I think he’s all bark and no bite.”
Peter raised his brows, incensed. “Did he threaten you? Because if he did…”
Hazel tugged him toward the cruiser, not wanting to admit that Tony had scared her. “Let’s just say he has some animosity toward witches. I don’t know that he’s capable of strangling Gracie, but maybe you should investigate him sooner than later.”
Peter opened the passenger door for her and exhaled an exasperated breath. “What did I tell you about going out alone?”
“I wasn’t alone, Peter. There were plenty of people about, and really, nothing happened. He spouted some foul words, and that was it. Let’s go have lunch and concentrate on finding Gracie’s killer. That’s a much better use of our time than arguing about an idiot man.”
She could see that Peter wanted to debate her claim but closed the door instead. A moment later, he was behind the wheel, and they were headed to Salem.
Thirteen
Hazel and Peter entered the small coffee shop Samuel had mentioned during his interview, located a few blocks from the center of Salem, and Hazel glanced around. The walls emanated a friendly, hip vibe, and most of the people in the shop seemed relaxed and happy. She was grateful to be out of Stonebridge for a few hours, in a place where no one knew her, and she wasn’t under scrutiny for every move she made.
She and Peter discussed what they wanted to order, and she let Peter take the lead when they reached the counter at the coffee shop. A friendly, red-haired barista, whose nametag read Suzy, greeted them.
“We’ll have one turkey pesto panini, a ham and swiss panini, and two cups of coffee. To stay,” Peter said.
Suzy smiled and took Peter’s credit card for payment.
Peter leaned against the counter. “I don’t suppose you were working last Thursday around eight in the morning?”
Suzy narrowed her eyes and paused. “Thursday? Yeah, I was here. Why?”
Peter flipped the opposite side of his wallet open to show his police badge as if his uniform wasn’t a big enough clue. “I’m following up on an investigation. A person of interest stated he was here with one of his friends. He had a receipt for two coffees, but I’d like an eyewitness to corroborate his statement.”
Suzy stepped to her right and grabbed two paper coffee cups from beneath the counter. “If you have a picture of them, I’ll take a look.”
She poured coffee while Peter pulled out photos he’d stuck between the pages of his notebook. He held them both out. “Look familiar?”
Suzy snapped lids on the cups, wiped her hands on her apron, and then took the pictures from Peter. She glanced at them and nodded. “Yeah, for sure. I remember seeing them.”
Hazel sensed Peter’s suspicions flare.
He jutted his hip like he always did when he was trying to act casual. “You seem pretty certain. Are you sure you don’t want to take a closer look?”
She waved her hand in dismissal at the photos he held. “Don’t need to. They were definitely here. One tall and older. The other shorter and a little chubbier, no?”
Peter nodded in agreement. “That sounds like them.”
She smiled. “I remember them because the older one insisted they both get decaf, but the younger one demanded he could handle his caffeine, and then he went on to order an extra-large cup of our brewed coffee. Reminded me of a father and son, though they didn’t look alike. Adopted, maybe.”
Peter tipped his head in acknowledgement and then glanced upward. “Sounds like our guys. Can you give me an estimate of the time?”
Suzy shrugged. “It was morning.”
Peter gave a casual nod. “I don’t suppose you have video surveillance.”
Hazel searched the ceiling and found a black-glassed dome in one of the corners.
Suzy leaned close to whisper. “It’s not real. Too expensive. But fake ones look the same and deter troublemakers. It’s easy to order them online.”
“I guess that’s better than nothing,” Peter agreed.
The barista drew her brows together in thought. “I think Marlene might have also been working that shift.”
“Marlene?” Peter asked.
“Marlene Hayworth. She’s not here today, but if you want to leave your number, I could have her give you a call. She might be able to tell you more.”
Peter slid a business card from his wallet. “If you could have her give me a call, that would be great.”
She tucked the business card beneath a corner of the register. “Will do. If you guys want to find a seat, I’ll bring your sandwiches right out.”
Peter grabbed the two cups of coffee. “Thanks.”
Hazel led the way to a cozy corner table and allowed Peter to have the seat facing toward the door because he insisted on keeping an eye on everything. When they were settled, she dumped cream and sugar into her cup and stirred as she pondered the latest development.
She shook her head and lifted her gaze to Peter, feeling defeated. “How can it not be Samuel or Timothy? They are the worst offenders in town.”
Peter shrugged. “It’s not always the obvious ones. Quentin Fletcher didn’t react well to you. Nor did Tony Lemon.”
She shivered. “I have a hard time picturing them as murderers, but I guess you’re right. Sometimes people are good at disguising their darker sides.”
Peter grunted in response.
Hazel sipped her coffee, and the heat singed the tip of her tongue. She silently chastised herself for not waiting a few minutes longer. “You’re sure the receipt was from Thursday? Not a different day? And have you checked to make sure our receipt has the correct date? Maybe the register is off.”