by Morgana Best
“Why didn’t you divorce him?” Aunt Maude asked her.
Linda sipped her coffee before answering. “I’m not trained for anything. I used to have an online store, but Paul made me shut it when we married. It would take money to restart it, and he was going to make sure I didn’t have a cent. We weren’t able to have children, so I’m all alone. Plus I had threatened to divorce him many times, but he always said he’d make sure he’d ruin me financially. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t have any skills. I thought I was stuck with him, but with him gone, I’ll be free. I’ll inherit everything.”
Aunt Agnes tut-tutted. “Whatever you do, dear, don’t say that to the police. They’ll have you pegged as the murderer for sure.”
I expected Linda to be shocked by her words, but she simply nodded.
I poured myself some coffee. “Have the police questioned you all yet?”
They all nodded. “They were here early, which I thought quite rude,” Aunt Agnes said. “I was expecting them last night.”
I bit my lip. “They questioned me too, just then, after questioning Lucas. I saw Lila Sanders go down to the beach earlier, so I don’t know if they’ve questioned her yet.”
“Did you get the impression they weren’t sure whether or not he was murdered?” Aunt Agnes asked me.
“Yes. I was just about to say that. I asked them if they were sure it was a murder and they didn’t give me straight answer. I expect they have to wait for the Forensics tests or something.”
“They questioned me at length about Paul’s eating habits.” Linda’s hand trembled, but she pushed on. “They asked if he was a good cook. I told them he never cooked for himself, but they didn’t seem to believe me, because then they asked if he’d ever had food poisoning before, from his own cooking.”
Aunt Agnes tapped her chin. “Curiouser and curiouser.”
My toast popped, so I took it to the table and slathered vegemite on it. “Poison. Sorry Linda, if it upsets you, but it had to be poison.”
“And in something he ate rather than by injection or skin contact, hence the cooking questions,” Aunt Agnes said thoughtfully, “but what?”
Dorothy frowned. “And who?”
“And why?” Maude added.
Chapter 4
“It’s obvious. They took samples of food from the cottage,” Maude said. “That surely does mean his food was poisoned.”
Aunt Agnes shook her head in dismissal. “If the victim even looked halfway like he had been poisoned, then that would be standard procedure, I’m sure.”
“It certainly does tie in with the police asking about Paul’s cooking.” I shot a look at Linda’s face. “Sorry if this upsets you, Linda. We can talk about something else.”
“It’s fine,” Linda said. Her face was impassive; I had no idea what was going on beneath the surface. “I told you, I hated him. I lived in misery. He was an absolute monster of a man. While I didn’t wish him dead, I can’t say I’m sorry that he is. In fact, I feel like celebrating.”
“Please keep that attitude from the police,” Maude said, reaching over to pat Linda’s hand once more.
I wondered why the aunts seemed so sure Linda wasn’t the culprit. She certainly had the motive, and she had the opportunity. Staying in the motel that night seemed an excellent way to secure an alibi. It was all too convenient. Perhaps she had even initiated the argument so she could go to the motel. She dined in the motel’s restaurant so everyone would see her, and then went to her room. She could have easily slipped out, come back to the cottage, and murdered her husband. While it was a long walk from here to the motel, she looked fit and I had seen her jogging on occasion.
I was making my second piece of toast when the doorbell rang. The aunts looked at each other expectantly. “I’ll go,” I said.
As I walked through the foyer, I skirted the place where the previous body had fallen through the skylight. This was getting to be Murder Central now.
I opened the door to see the two detectives standing there. My stomach clenched and an unreasonable wave of guilt flooded over me.
“Is Mrs Linda Williams here?” Detective Oakes said by way of greeting.
“Yes.” I held the door open for him. They stepped inside the foyer, looking grim. I shut the door behind them. “Follow me.” I once more skirted the place where the body had fallen and walked into the kitchen, the detectives hard on my heels.
Linda paused when she saw them, the piece of toast half way to her mouth. “Mrs Williams, would you accompany us back to the police station?” His voice was stern.
Linda was visibly shocked. “Am I under arrest?”
“Not at this point. We want you to help us with our inquiries.”
Aunt Agnes pushed her chair back and stood up. “Does she need a lawyer?”
Oakes’s eyes narrowed. “Mrs Williams is certainly entitled to a lawyer.”
I didn’t like the way this was going. “Would you like me to go with you?”
Linda shook her head. “No, I’ll be okay. Thanks so much for everything.” She turned back to the police. “I’ll just get my purse. It’s upstairs.”
When the three of them left the room, Dorothy poked her head around the door.
It seemed like ages before we heard the front door shut, but it was probably only a few minutes. “Don’t say anything yet,” Dorothy said in a stage whisper. “I’ll make sure they’ve gone.”
Dorothy soon returned. “The coast is clear.”
“Do you think she did it?” were the first words out of my mouth.
“She certainly had good cause,” Agnes said. “Her husband was a most unpleasant man.”
“But that doesn’t mean she did it,” I pointed out. I didn’t think I was going to get much sense out of my aunts.
“Lila Sanders is coming over soon to interview us,” Aunt Agnes said.
This was news to me. “Do you want me to be here?” I asked, hoping the answer would be negative.
“Yes, of course.” She looked at her watch. “In fact, she’ll be here presently. We should all go to the living room. Make sure she sits on the striped chair.”
“Why is that?” I asked her.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Aunt Agnes said with a hint of disapproval in her voice.
I grit my teeth. “If it was obvious, I wouldn’t have asked.”
For some reason, the other two aunts thought my remark particularly funny. “Because we have a compulsion spell all over that chair and a sweetness spell, too,” Agnes said. “We need her to write good things about the Bed and Breakfast, so we put calamus root and liquorice root, as well as sugar for sweetness, under the chair.”
“And we have Bend Over Oil rubbed into the wooden sections of the chair,” Aunt Maude added. “That will bend her to our will, to ensure she writes about us favourably.”
Aunt Agnes opened a cupboard door with a flourish. “And we did this as an extra precaution.”
I peeked inside the cupboard. It was dark in there, but with my vampire sight I could see a jar with a honey label. Aunt Agnes pulled the large jar of honey from the cupboard and placed it on the table in front of me. “See, we’ve done a honey jar for Lila Sanders.”
I looked at the honey jar. It was a big plastic jar of honey with a yellow lid, the sort commonly found at any supermarket. On the top, there was a piece of paper on which Lila Sanders’ name was written. It was surrounded by sugar and gold glitter.
“The gold is for attracting money to us,” Agnes explained. “But you know that, Valkyrie.” Aunt Agnes put the honey jar back in the cupboard. “I must say, even with our spells in place, I’m still quite nervous about this woman,” she added.
The doorbell rang once more. Agnes consulted her watch. “That must be her, and she’s five minutes early. All of you, quick, to the living room! Try to act normal.”
I bit back a smile. We followed Aunt Agnes out of the room, diverting to the living room through the French doors as she walked to greet the guest, or guest
s. I sure hoped it wasn’t the police back to take one of us away.
Presently, Aunt Agnes showed a perfectly groomed Lila Sanders into the room. Her expensive French perfume preceded her into the room in a cloud of rose and jasmine. I was sure it was Chanel Grand Extrait. My last boss used to wear it, and one small bottle was worth more than my paycheck for a month.
I fancied that her lips curled into a gesture of distaste when she saw me, but I couldn’t be certain.
As Aunt Agnes indicated Lila should sit on the spelled chair, I took the opportunity to study the woman. She was tall, slender, with pale blonde hair tied severely at the nape of her neck. Her cream suit was tightly fitting, her shirt neckline plunging. She wore a heavy string of pearls which looked somewhat out of place with the rest of her contemporary outfit. Her earrings were huge and appeared to be diamonds. If they were real, they would have cost a fortune. I wondered if another business had given them to her as a bribe for painting them in a favourable light. Her make-up was impeccable, and her skin glowing. She obviously had regular facials. I made a mental note to book myself in for one.
“May I record this?” Lila asked, placing a little recording device on the coffee table in front of her and switching it on before anyone had a chance to speak.
“Yes, of course,” Aunt Agnes said.
The questions at first were tedious—how long had Mugwort Manor been in the family, did the aunts enjoy living there, what services did they offer—but then the questions turned to the last murder.
I was alarmed at that, given that hers was supposed to be a lifestyle magazine. I hurried to point that out. “Isn’t East Coast Living a glossy lifestyle magazine?” I asked Lila. “You won’t write about the murder, surely?”
Lila turned her gaze to me. There was something—malice perhaps?—in her eyes.
“And what is your name again?” she asked me with obvious disdain.
“Pepper Jasper,” I said hurriedly, before the aunts could get a word in.
“Yes, the niece.” She scribbled furiously on her notepad. “Your aunts tell me that you’re a new partner in the business.”
I nodded.
“Qualifications?” she barked. The word came out as an accusation rather than a question. I hesitated. I had absolutely no qualifications, and was wondering how I could answer her question.
“Valkyrie has a degree in Classical Literature,” Aunt Dorothy said proudly.
Lila looked around the room. “Valkyrie?”
“Yes, Valkyrie Chooser of the Slain who Shall Enter Valhalla,” Maude said primly.
Again the nasty look. “Didn’t you say your name was Pepper?” She sniggered.
I rubbed my temples. “Yes, my name is Pepper, but my aunts like to call me Valkyrie.”
“Valkyrie is what’s on her birth certificate,” Aunt Agnes said triumphantly, ignoring my warning look.
“So, Valkyrie,” Lila said with scorn dripping off every syllable, “you have no qualifications to be a partner in a Bed and Breakfast business?”
I sat there, dumbstruck. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Lila scribbled away on her notepad. Obviously, there wasn’t enough sugar, calamus root, liquorice root, or Bend Over Oil in the world to make the woman like me.
“So you’ve come here from Sydney?” Lila asked.
At least that was one question I could answer. “Yes.”
“No boyfriend?”
I narrowed my eyes. “No.” I couldn’t see what that had to do with anything, but I didn’t want to infuriate her further by asking. Was this about Lucas? The aunts said Lila was an old friend of Lucas’s. Perhaps she had a mad crush on him, so much so that she saw all other women as potential threats. After all, I had seen for myself the way women threw themselves at Lucas. I couldn’t think of another reason why she should have that attitude towards me.
“Do you think the murders will have a negative impact on your business?” She addressed her question this time to Aunt Agnes.
Aunt Agnes’s eyes flickered, but she remained composed. “No. It’s unusual to have any murders in Lighthouse Bay, and these two are clearly unrelated. The first one wasn’t a guest.”
“But it was to do with a guest, Lucas O’Callaghan, wasn’t it?” Lila asked, her lips in a tight line.
“Was it?” Aunt Agnes said, a picture of innocence. “When you get to my age, dear, you won’t remember things as well as you used to.” She plastered an innocent, somewhat vacant, look on her face, and the other two aunts nodded.
“What about you?” Lila said, turning to me. “You must remember all the details of the case?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know if you know, but the murderer kidnapped me. I received a blow to the head, and the doctors told me I had selective amnesia. I can’t remember anything much about it before or after.”
“It was only a week ago,” Lila said, clearly impatient.
I shrugged. “Yes, the doctor said I’ll have memory problems for a few more weeks now.” I smiled sweetly at her, wondering whether anyone would believe the outrageous lie I had just invented on the spot.
Lila’s eyes narrowed. She was silent for a moment, obviously wondering whether or not to believe me. “That will be all for now,” she said, standing up. “I’ll question you all again at a later time.”
She tottered over to the door on her impossibly high heels, and I hurried past her to open it for her.
“That didn’t go well,” Aunt Agnes said upon my return. “We’ll need to increase the sugar.”
“She seems to have taken a dislike to you, Valkyrie,” Aunt Maude said.
“I think she has a crush on Lucas,” I pointed out. “She probably regards any woman around his age as a threat to her relentless pursuit of him.”
The aunts smiled and exchanged glances.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Methinks she isn’t the only one who is jealous, dear,” Agnes said.
There was no point arguing. Instead, I changed the subject. “How long before the police will get the Forensics tests back, do you think?”
The aunts took the bait at once. “They should have a good idea of what happened to him by the end of the day surely, after the post-mortem,” Aunt Agnes said.
“Valkyrie said Forensics tests, not post-mortem,” Maude said with obvious irritation.
“I meant both,” I hurried to add, hoping to make peace.
“Forensics tests can take weeks to come back,” Aunt Dorothy said. “We can’t have Linda staying here for free if the police tell her not to leave town.”
“I only gave her a voucher for another week,” I said, “and that runs out in a few days.”
The landline in the foyer drowned out our conversation. Aunt Agnes hurried to answer it. Aunt Dorothy and Aunt Maude argued about whether I’d meant to say post-mortem instead of Forensics tests, while I sat back in my chair, staring at the ornate ceiling rose above me and wondering why someone had painted the rose in pastel shades of blue and green.
“It’s Linda,” Agnes announced upon her return to the room. “The police think she killed her husband.”
Chapter 5
I left Aunt Agnes’s little blue Mazda outside the police station and went in search of Linda. I found her easily enough. She was standing in the door to the waiting room. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, taking my arm and all but dragging me out of the building.
“Were they horrible to you?” I asked.
Linda stopped in her forward charge. “You could say that. Worse still, although they drove me here, they said I had to wait for an officer to take me back. I was sitting there for fifteen minutes before I gave up and called your aunts. Thanks so much for coming to collect me. I really appreciate it.”
“No worries.”
We were standing on the street, and the sun was already hot. I took in Linda’s face, her puffy cheeks, and her red eyes. “Why don’t we get some coffee?”
Linda looked doubtful. “Don�
�t you have to get back to work?”
I shook my head. “I work most nights as it is. If I take an hour or so off now, it won’t make any difference. I’ll just make it up later.”
Linda’s face lit up. “Great, thanks. That will take my mind off it.”
We turned and walked along the street in the direction of the water.
“Any particular coffee shop you like?” I asked Linda. She shook her head, so we kept walking.
When we were close to the water, I stopped. “What about this one?”
Linda agreed. “On second thoughts, why don’t we get coffee and take it down to the water?”
I agreed. “We could sit under that tree over there.”
Linda followed my gaze. “I’ll run ahead and grab the spot. See, those people are heading for it?” She opened her purse but I put out my hand.
“I’ll get it. You can run and grab that seat. What are you drinking? And would you like anything to eat?”
She shook her head. “I feel sick to the stomach. I don’t think I could eat anything but just a black coffee please. Regular.”
I nodded, and then watched as she hurried off to the seat, heading off the couple heading in that direction. That woman sure had some speed.
I liked the little coffee shop as soon as I entered. It was open, with bifold doors pushed all the way back and fans going, although the sea breeze wafted nicely through the place, leaving fans unnecessary. The guy who took my order was awfully attractive—his face, that is, as he was stick thin. His legs were like matchsticks. I thought of Lucas and his more muscular frame.
I looked up to see the man had spoken. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if you wanted large or regular.”
“Sorry. Both regular please.”
“So far I only have one regular black. Is there another?”
I felt like an idiot. “Yes, the other one is an almond decaf latté.”
“Decaf?” He almost spat the word.
“I’ve had several coffees already today,” I explained apologetically, “and if I have one more…” I let my voice trail away.