Nothing To Croak About (Silver Hollow Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series Book 3)

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Nothing To Croak About (Silver Hollow Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series Book 3) Page 3

by Leighann Dobbs


  “As far as I know, he’s not moved.” Ember leaned forward to see past Issy.

  “Over here.” Raine pointed out the passenger side window toward a barely visible roof through the tree line. Issy parked on the berm then got out.

  Ember wasn’t kidding about the place being small. Whoever this Mr. Crandall was, his abode went way beyond the latest tiny-house movement. The three cousins traipsed through the thick foliage and halfway up a hill to the squat little cottage nestled between two huge oak trees. From the worn exterior, it looked like Mr. Crandall had built the place himself out of rough-sawn wood. One peeling brown shutter creaked ominously in the steady breeze, and the minuscule porch squeaked loudly when Issy set foot on it.

  “Oh my!” Ember cried.

  “What’s wrong?” Issy turned fast, her pulse tripping.

  “Toads!” Raine pointed to two of them skittering over the top of Em’s cute white pumps.

  “Come on.” Issy linked arms with Ember and pulled her up onto the porch. Raine trailed after them. “Let’s see if Mr. Crandall’s home.”

  She knocked on his door then took a step back, forcing a polite smile.

  No one answered.

  “Huh.” She tried again, but still nothing. “Well, maybe he’s not here right now.”

  “Oh, he’s home all right,” Raine said, pointing toward an eyeball peering at them through the drapes of a nearby window. “Want me to wave at him?”

  “We should probably just go,” Ember said. “Mr. Crandall is notoriously tight-lipped, from the rumors I’ve heard at my shop. I’m not surprised he won’t let us in.”

  “You could’ve mentioned that before we walked all the way up here.” Issy stepped down off the porch, her cousins following. Guess they’d just have to find out what happened to Adele some other way.

  “What do you want?” a gruff male voice yelled from behind them.

  Issy whipped around and spotted a short older man with snow-white hair scowling at them through a small crack in his front door.

  “Mr. Crandall?” Issy flashed her friendliest smile and started back toward the tiny home. “My name is Issy. My cousins and I were hoping to talk to you about—”

  “We’re here about Adele Brundage,” Raine called to him.

  “I know who you are. You’re the Quinns. Knew your parents. Remember seeing you all as babies.” The old man looked at each of them then back to Issy again, his brown gaze suspicious. “What do you want with Adele?”

  Stepping cautiously back up onto the porch, Issy was half scared the older man would slam the door in her face. “I’m so sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Mr. Crandall, but Adele Brundage was murdered.”

  “The devil you say.” Mr. Crandall eased open his front door a bit wider. He couldn’t have stood more than five feet high, and his shoulders were permanently slumped with old age. “Poor, poor Adele. I knew something wasn’t right when all those police cars came racing up earlier. And then that ambulance. Terrible, terrible thing.” He shook his head and frowned. “Adele was a nice lady. Didn’t deserve the lot she got.”

  He started to go back inside and ease the door shut behind him, but Issy stepped forward and stuck her foot into the jamb to keep him from closing it all the way. “I’m sorry to bother you again, Mr. Crandall, but we were wondering if you might’ve seen anything strange going on at Adele’s place recently?”

  “Strange?” He glanced back at her over his shoulder. “No. I don’t hear too good, and most of the time I just keep to myself and mind my own business, like most people should.” His implicit tone wasn’t lost on Issy. “Besides, with that fortune-telling business of hers, there was always a lot of cars and people coming and going.”

  “You don’t remember seeing anything odd or maybe someone lurking around her home?”

  “I really don’t want to get involved,” he said, starting to close the door again.

  “Wait!” Ember raced up beside Issy. “I’m pretty sure I have an extra batch of that penuche fudge you love so much back at my shop, Mr. Crandall.”

  The door opened slightly wider again, and Mr. Crandall’s expression brightened. “Oh, penuche fudge. I’ve not had that in a coon’s age.”

  Ember smiled. “Well, then, I might just remember to bring you some. Memory is a tricky thing, though, like you said. Sometimes you have to think hard to remember.”

  Mr. Crandall narrowed his gaze. “I see. Yes, you’re right. Now that I think about it, I did see something peculiar over at Adele’s place. Not last night, wasn’t nobody there then near as I could tell. Course I can’t see much from here. Trees are too thick. But when there’s a ruckus I look out, and yesterday afternoon I saw Jerry Blaisdale come peeling down the road in that red Honda Civic of his. That boy was hell-bent for leather, I’m telling you.”

  “About what time was that, Mr. Crandall?” Issy asked.

  “Early afternoon. About two or so, I’d say.”

  “And you’re sure he was at Adele Brundage’s?” Raine asked.

  Mr. Crandall gave her an annoyed look. “Where else would he be going, missy? Ain’t nobody else live out this way except me and her.”

  With that he shuffled back inside, turning to face Ember as he grasped the side of the door. “Don’t you forget my fudge now, you hear?”

  Then he slammed the door shut in their faces.

  “Okay, then.” Issy blinked at the wooden door. “Well, at least we got a bit of new information.”

  “Yes.” Ember linked arms with them, and the three Quinn cousins stepped down off the porch together, heading back through the woods to Brown Betty. “And all it cost us was a pound of fudge.”

  “I wonder when Adele was actually attacked. Couldn’t have been that long ago. Certainly not yesterday afternoon when Jerry sped by.” Raine held the door of the truck open for Ember. “Crandall likely wouldn’t have noticed any other cars driving by in the middle of the night.”

  “She might’ve been lying in the kitchen for a while, but the blood around her head was still sticky,” Ember said.

  “True.” Issy fastened her seat belt then started the engine. “But why would Jerry Blaisdale want to hurt Adele?”

  “Not sure. He has been acting strange lately, though,” Ember said, straightening the skirt of her sundress. “One of my customers told me the other day Jerry’s emotions have been getting the better of him, and he’s been casting spells by mistake.”

  “Really?” Issy waited for traffic to pass on the highway then turned out and headed back toward Silver Hollow. “Do you think maybe Adele foretold his problems with her scrying ball and he didn’t want to risk her telling anyone?”

  “Or maybe he cast an illegal spell,” Raine said. “If Adele foresaw it, then she’d be honor bound to report it to Luigi, and he’d have to bring it up to The Committee for prosecution.”

  The Committee was the regional governing body for all the local covens and paranormal activity. They weren’t nearly as bad as the FBPI when it came to punishments, but they could still make a paranormal’s life miserable if necessary.

  As Issy passed the sign welcoming them to Silver Hollow, a black Cadillac passed them on the two-lane highway. Issy glanced into her rearview mirror in time to see the car turn off down Adele’s dirt road. “Huh. Why would you think a fancy car like that would go to see Adele?” she asked.

  “Could be one of her clients who doesn’t know she’s dead,” Ember said.

  “Maybe.” Issy checked both ways then made a U-turn and headed back toward Adele’s. She slowed as they passed the entrance to the dirt road and spotted Troy Holland and Len Childs getting out of the Cadillac.

  “What are they doing here?” Raine asked, crowding Ember to see out Issy’s window. “I can’t imagine they’d have much use for Adele Brundage or her talents now.”

  “Let’s find out.” Issy turned back down the dirt road. Ahead, tall, blond, handsome Troy straightened his preppy blazer then said something to Len. Len—thinner and shorter than
Troy, with glasses and pockmarked skin—laughed and slapped Troy on the back. Even back in school, Troy had always seemed like the leader of the two.

  Looked like nothing had changed.

  As she pulled to a stop behind Troy’s Cadillac, a fat toad hopped in front of her car. Adele’s curse ran through Issy’s mind once more.

  A plague of toads on Silver Hollow until my killer is found…

  The two men stood just to the side of the road, staring at all the squad cars clogging Adele’s dirt driveway.

  “What’s going on here?” Troy asked as Issy and her cousins approached.

  “We came by early and found Adele dead inside her house,” Raine said, standing slightly back from the group with her arms crossed.

  “She’s dead?” Len asked, the color draining from his cheeks.

  “Afraid so,” Ember said. “She was actually still alive when we found her, but passed away shortly afterward.”

  “How awful.” Troy seemed genuinely sad. “Did she say anything about what happened? Why would someone want to kill her?”

  “No. Not a word.” Issy watched the two men carefully. “The police are investigating now. She was struck from behind in the back of the head, so she didn’t see her attacker.”

  A large, golden-eyed toad glared at Issy from the side of the road, urging her on.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Issy asked.

  Len looked from Issy to Troy then back again. “We stopped by to see how she was getting along too. Same as you. We hadn’t seen her since Scott’s funeral.”

  “I didn’t think you guys hung out together anymore,” Raine said, her gaze narrowed.

  “We didn’t really hang out, not since Scott’s addiction problem got out of hand. Then the homelessness.” Troy shook his head. “But I still kept in contact, and every so often I tried to reach out to him and offer my help, but Scott refused to change his ways.”

  “Do you know of anyone else who might’ve wanted to hurt Adele?” Ember asked.

  “No, not really. Everyone liked Adele,” Troy said.

  “Scott hung out with some pretty unsavory characters, though,” Len added. “Maybe she met one of them at Scott’s funeral and they thought she got some kind of life insurance settlement after his death. Drug addicts will break in and steal just about anything.” Len frowned. “You know, come to think of it, I do remember seeing one of the homeless arguing with Adele after the services.”

  “That’s right,” Troy said. “There were some problems at the wake.”

  “What problems?” Issy asked.

  “Apparently one of those homeless people caused a ruckus after the wake,” Troy said.

  “About what?” Issy asked.

  Troy shrugged. “Who knows. They can be unstable and get agitated easily.”

  “You said problems. What else happened?” Raine asked.

  “That guy. Used to work security at the mill for Dad. That one that was a camera buff.” Troy glanced at Len as if expecting him to refresh his memory on who it was.

  “Jerry Blaisdale?” Raine offered.

  “Yes!” Troy smiled. “He pulled Adele aside, and it looked like they were arguing.”

  “What about?” Issy scrunched her nose. Jerry might’ve been not quite himself lately, but she couldn’t imagine the guy confronting someone like that at a funeral.

  “Don’t know.” Troy shook his head. “I wasn’t close enough to hear, but the discussion looked very animated. It was before the wake started. Len and I helped Adele get set up. I didn’t try to eavesdrop or anything. I did notice she was upset, though, when she came back into the room, but I didn’t want to pry.” He gave an angry snort. “Can you imagine having the gall to argue with a woman at her own son’s wake? Who would do that?”

  5

  Later that night, all four Quinn cousins convened around their usual gathering spot—the fire pit behind Issy’s house. The autumn air had turned cooler this evening. Add in a slight breeze blowing off the lake in the distance and it forced them all to bundle up. It didn’t stop them from eating, though, and they had their usual snacks of veggies with dip, chocolate bark from Divine Cravings, popcorn, and s’mores toasted over the fire around which they all sat.

  Despite the chill, toads croaked louder than usual in the night.

  “Bella’s doing so well with her lessons,” Issy said, kissing her little Pomeranian familiar on the top of her furry head. “I told Brimstone earlier she’s communicating with me telepathically now. Some of her messages are still gibberish, but they get clearer every day.”

  “That’s great!” Ember said, pulling her two feline familiars—Endora and Bellatrix—from their basket. One kitten pure black, the other pure white snuggled into the fleece blanket spread across her lap. “The girls are getting more comfortable talking to me telepathically too, though we’ve still got a way to go.”

  Brimstone snorted from his spot at the end of one of the logs surrounding the fire pit. “Gee, maybe one day they’ll actually earn the title of familiar.”

  “Bella doesn’t have to earn anything,” Issy said, giving Brimstone a look before holding up the tiny Pom and kissing her on the nose. “You’re mommy’s perfect little familiar, aren’t you?”

  The large charcoal-colored cat rolled his eyes and resumed his grooming.

  “Morty looks good,” Issy said to Raine while settling Bella on her lap again. “And he’s got a guest.”

  Raine frowned down at her Venus flytrap familiar then nudged a toad out of his large pot. “Yes, he’s back to his old self again after everything that happened.” Her voice held a wistful tone, and Issy’s heart ached a bit for her cousin who’d been through so much over these past couple of months. “In fact, he’s grown so much in the past couple weeks I had to repot him yesterday.”

  Brimstone hissed then batted a toad away from his tail. “I hope you find Adele’s killer soon. All these toads are becoming a nuisance.”

  Gray shook his head, and his white cockatoo familiar Cosmo flapped his wings to gain better purchase on Gray’s muscular shoulder. “Tell me again how Adele’s death is related to this amphibian invasion?”

  Issy sighed and tucked a strawberry-blond curl behind her ear. “The last thing Adele uttered before she passed over was a curse on Silver Hollow. A plague of toads, to be precise. It won’t expire until her killer is found.”

  “Marvelous.” Gray wrinkled his nose and pushed a large toad aside with the toe of his boot. “Any ideas on who her murderer might be?”

  “Jerry Blaisdale seems like a viable suspect,” Raine said. “We were talking earlier today about how erratic he’s been acting lately, casting unintentional spells and having inappropriate emotional outbursts.”

  “That doesn’t necessarily make him a killer,” Issy said. “He wasn’t the only person visiting Adele for readings. A lot of people in town had regular appointments with her.”

  “Would she start readings again so soon after Scott’s funeral?” Ember asked.

  “Maybe she wanted to get back into her routine.” Gray shrugged, frowning into the fire. “Lots of people use their jobs to help them forget about their troubles.”

  “True.” Issy narrowed her gaze on the dancing flames. “Motive-wise, Owen thinks Adele must’ve seen something in one of her scrying balls and a client didn’t want her to tell anyone.”

  “I’m not sure about that.” Raine frowned. “If she did see something, why wouldn’t that person just kill her right away? Why wait?”

  “Good question.” Ember stroked Endora’s fur. “DeeDee came into Divine Cravings this afternoon and told me Ursula thinks Adele was attacked early this morning, not during her normal business hours.”

  “Since when do witches have normal business hours?” Brimstone asked, with his usual snarky tone.

  “Maybe her killer took time to think about what Adele saw. Maybe the more they thought about it, the more they realized they didn’t want it getting around town. Then they came back later to
do the deed,” Gray offered.

  “Well, if Ursula said she was attacked earlier this morning, then for Owen’s theory to be right, it would’ve been a client she saw yesterday. Which leads us right back to Jerry Blaisdale, since he’s the one person Mr. Crandall said he saw drive up to Adele’s yesterday.”

  “I’m surprised Adele didn’t keep some kind of appointment book for her clients. I use one at Sheer Magic, and most days it’s the only way I keep my sanity,” Gray said.

  “Better get a new one, then, because I don’t think the old one’s working anymore,” Brimstone said, his hellfire-orange eyes holding a definite twinkle of amusement.

  “Funny.” Gray gave the cat a flat look then fed Cosmo a Brazil nut. “Not.”

  The sound of a car engine, followed by the crunch of footsteps on Issy’s gravel driveway, made the cousins tense.

  “Expecting more company?” Raine asked Issy.

  “No.” She scowled at the corner of her house. “I can’t imagine who that would be.”

  “Howdy, Quinns.” DeeDee rounded the end of the house and walked up to their fire pit. “Having a good evening, I hope.”

  “Fine.” Ember scooted over to make room for their unexpected new arrival. “What brings you here tonight, Deputy?”

  “I heard you talking about the case when I drove by and figured I’d pull in,” she said, ignoring the question. The Quinns exchanged a look, and DeeDee chuckled. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t eavesdropping, and I’ve got extra-good hearing too. Wolf shifter, remember?”

  Issy exhaled, forcing her tense shoulders to relax slightly. One could never be too careful these days, but DeeDee was a friend.

  “Anyway, I thought maybe we could save each other some trouble,” DeeDee said.

  “Yeah?” Raine passed her a paper plate and bowl of fresh popcorn. “How?”

  “We can make a trade.” DeeDee piled her plate high with snacks from the table, threw on a pile of popcorn, and then handed the bowl to Gray. “I saw you talking to Mr. Crandall after you left Adele’s. We tried to question him too, but he wouldn’t tell us anything. Owen wants to know what he said. So, you tell me your information, I’ll tell you mine.”

 

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