by K E O'Connor
“That sounds suspiciously like a question. Something you’re not supposed to be asking.” Dazielle gestured to the door. “You need to leave, and I need to get back to questioning Caprice.”
I glanced at the door behind Dazielle. I couldn’t leave Wiggles in a building full of angels. “Any chance I can sit in on the interview?”
Dazielle snorted a laugh. “Not this time. You stick to demon hunting. I’ve got a new case coming your way. A real nasty piece of work. You two should get along.”
Wiggles scurried out from behind the reception area and winked at me. It was time to leave.
“I look forward to it. Let me know when you hear anything useful from Caprice,” I said to Dazielle.
“You’re at the bottom of my list to keep informed.” Dazielle lifted a sheet of paper. “Oh, my mistake. You’re not even on my list.”
When had Dazielle gotten so snarky? I shook my head as I left the angels to their interrogation.
I hoped they didn’t stuff this up. Bastille deserved justice, and the angels had better make sure she got it.
Chapter 14
I waited until we were away from Angel Force’s headquarters before speaking to Wiggles. “Did you find anything useful about Toby?”
“Nothing. These paws don’t work well on filing cabinets. I had a peek on a couple of desks that were unoccupied, but they didn’t have anything useful. Toby’s information could be in the archive.”
I pressed my lips together. I would find out about his underhanded tactics. That’s all I needed, more ammunition against him to show Aurora he was wrong for her.
“Let’s go to the hotel again,” I said. “I want to speak to Tabitha. I didn’t get a chance the other day because the angels were poking around. She might have seen something useful on the night of Bastille’s murder.”
Tabitha Dimples was behind the hotel reception desk when we entered. “Hi, Tempest. Any news on what the angels are doing to my guest?”
“They’re keeping Caprice for questioning.”
“It’s a terrible business.” Tabitha looked around. “Should I keep Caprice’s room for her? All her things are still here. I hate to be mercenary, but I have people wanting to stay.”
“How long has she paid for?”
“Another two nights.”
“Keep it until then. If the angels are charging her with anything, they’ll have to do it soon.”
Tabitha nodded. “Do you think it was her? I’m a good judge of character and didn’t get a hint of killer intent off Caprice when she checked in.”
I tilted my head. “How can you tell someone’s a killer?”
Tabitha took her glasses off and cleaned them. “I have a sixth sense about people. I know a good egg when I see one. I also know a rotten egg.”
“What sort of egg was Caprice?”
Tabitha tutted. “An all-round good one. She’s stayed here before for previous reunions and is always polite and tidy. Some guests who stay here are nothing more than pigs. The stories I could tell you about what I’ve found lurking under beds. Dirty pants, old socks, half-eaten sandwiches. One guest even left behind a full-sized, blow-up—”
“Were you here the night Bastille was killed?”
“Oh, yes. I don’t sleep much. I have an easy chair out back, so use that to nap in. I was around on and off all night.”
“Did you see anyone coming and going?”
Tabitha smiled at me. “Still doing your detective work?”
I shrugged. “I have to. You know what the angels can be like.”
“A pain in the behind. They left feathers all over the carpets. It took me hours to get everything looking presentable. Did they say sorry? Of course not!”
“Have they questioned you about what you saw that night?”
“You’d think they would, but we keep missing each other. I have a business to run and can’t wait around for the angels to pull their boots on and get over here.” Tabitha shook her head. “Not that I want them back, messing the place up.”
“I doubt they’ll bother you now,” I said. “They think they’ve got their killer.”
“I suppose they know what they’re doing. If you have any questions for me, ask away. I’m happy to help.”
“Thanks. One of your guests, Samantha, said she left around midnight to meet somebody.”
“That’s right. I was in the back room and saw her leave. She returned two hours later.” Tabitha arched an eyebrow. “She looked very pleased with herself. I wondered if she has a gentleman in the village and they met for a little slap and tickle. She looked disheveled when she returned if you know what I mean.”
I did and wasn’t happy to hear that. “Did Samantha go straight to her room after she got back from her slap and tickle?”
“She did. She couldn’t see me in my easy chair. I push the recliner back so I can just see over the top of the counter when people pass. I heard her go straight up the stairs. She wears those heeled boots, so I heard them clipping on the floorboards.”
“Did anything else unusual happen that night?”
“Nothing remarkable. Esmeralda called down late and asked for two mugs of cocoa. It was just after Samantha had left. I don’t mind doing room service during the day, but I’d closed the kitchen, so I couldn’t help Esmeralda.”
“So, she didn’t go to Lila’s room with cocoa?”
“Oh, yes, I believe she did. I couldn’t provide the drinks, but I offered her my kettle. Esmeralda was happy with that because she had her own cocoa. She came down and collected the kettle. In fact, she brought me my own mug of cocoa after making the drinks, which was sweet of her.”
That was useful information. It helped to solidify Esmeralda and Lila’s alibis. They were snug in Lila’s room gossiping and sipping cocoa when the murder happened.
“Did anything else happen?” I asked. “The other guests said they stayed in their rooms all night.”
Tabitha adjusted her glasses and tapped her fingers against her chin. “Esmeralda popped down with the kettle before she turned in, which was around two in the morning. I’d nodded off, actually, so I got a start when she appeared behind the desk. Oh, and Caprice went out.”
My eyes widened. Caprice had lied to me. She’d said she’d stayed in her room all night. “What time did she go out?”
“Not long after Samantha. I wondered if they were going out somewhere together and she was running late.”
“Caprice was out of her room around the time Bastille was killed?”
“Yes, but she left through the front door,” Tabitha said. “That’s why I didn’t think anything of it.”
I shook my head. “Caprice couldn’t get into the garden by going out the front door and around the back?”
“Oh, no. There’s not a chance of that. There’s a single door to gain access into the garden, and you have to walk past reception to get to it.”
“There’s no side gate?”
“No. The only way Caprice could get in the garden after going out the front is to scale a fifteen-foot stone wall covered in prickly holly. I grew it up there to deter any bad sorts trying to get in.”
“And if she’d done that when Caprice came back, she’d be filthy.”
Tabitha nodded. “She would and most likely bloody from getting stabbed by the holly. I grow the prickles extra long.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. I thought I’d found a hole in Caprice’s alibi, but she couldn’t have been in the garden, so why lie about going out that night?
“What about Bastille?” I asked. “When did she leave her room and go into the garden?”
Tabitha tilted her head and frowned. “That’s a funny thing. I don’t know. I nodded off for a while. I didn’t hear the back door go, and it’s a heavy wooden door, so I always hear it when it thuds shut. Bastille must have been quiet when she came down the stairs.”
“What time did you fall asleep?”
“I can’t say for definite. It was the early hours of the morning.
I remember Samantha returning around two, so it must have been after that. I fell asleep properly after she was back and rose about six.”
“And you slept in your chair all night?” I glanced over her shoulder and saw a comfortable looking pink recliner with several soft throws on it. It did look cozy.
“I always do. I like to be on hand for my guests.”
So, Caprice lied about going out but couldn’t have gotten into the garden. Esmeralda and Lila were in the clear because they were together the night of the murder. Samantha was having a dalliance with the sleazy Toby Matlock. That only left Auntie Queenie, and I knew she was innocent. What was I missing?
I turned away from the reception. “Thanks for the information, Tabitha.”
“Is it any help?”
“It might be.” I wasn’t sure. Unless I could get to Caprice and find out where she’d snuck off to, I couldn’t go any further with this investigation. Everyone was where they should be, and all alibis accounted for.
“Pass the information to the angels if you think it’ll do them any good,” she said. “I want this business sorted. That poor lady deserves justice, and I deserve not to have the angels poking around anymore and threatening my business reputation.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of this.” I left the hotel with Wiggles, my head full of questions. I still couldn’t figure out why Caprice had lied. Could she have found a way into the garden Tabitha hadn’t thought of?
I checked no one was watching before sneaking around the side of the hotel.
“What are you doing?” Wiggles asked.
“Looking for a secret door.” I stared at the fifteen-foot wall. There was no way I’d attempt to get over that, and Caprice had a fair few years on me.
“There’s no door, but maybe a ladder would work,” Wiggles said.
“It would have to be a big ladder. And Caprice would need holly resistant clothing.” I eyed the sharp leaves carefully. They could do serious damage. Even if Caprice had found a way to sneak into the garden undetected, she’d have been injured.
“She could have flown.”
“Caprice doesn’t have that power.” Not all witches were a natural on a broomstick. “I’m missing something. How did she get into the garden if she came out the front door?”
“Tabitha sounds like she sleeps on the job more than she realizes,” Wiggles said. “Caprice could have snuck back in when she was snoozing. Maybe she saw Tabitha all snug in her seat and waited her out, so she couldn’t see her creeping about.”
“But Caprice would have needed to time it right. Otherwise, Bastille could have been waiting in the garden on her own for ages. She wouldn’t have done that. If Caprice asked her to meet outside at a certain time, when she didn’t show, Bastille would have gone looking for her.”
Wiggles glanced at the hotel. “You don’t think Tabitha’s involved?”
I wrinkled my nose. “What’s her motive?”
“Bastille complained about something. Tabitha’s in the prime position to see everyone coming and going. She could have seen Bastille go outside and decided to get her revenge.”
“It would have needed to be a serious complaint.”
“Maybe Bastille saw a giant rat and threatened to call in the inspectors?” Wiggles raised his nose and sniffed. “A rat with claws and a mean expression on his face.”
I shuddered. I didn’t want to see any rat, big or small. “We need to focus on those who knew Bastille well. The people she trusted. The people she wouldn’t think it strange to go outside with in the middle of the night. Tabitha and Bastille didn’t know each other well.”
“So, we’re back to all of Auntie Queenie’s friends,” Wiggles said, “and Auntie Queenie.”
I hated to do that, but there was no one else to focus on. “I need to update Auntie Queenie. She might not know that the angels have Caprice for questioning.”
I turned from the hotel feeling lost. Something felt wrong about Caprice’s arrest. She was an easy target because of her lousy alibi, but she’d been so stunned when the angels had taken her. It was hard to fake that.
“Time for lunch?” Wiggles said.
I nodded. “Sure, we can get lunch. Let’s head to Mom’s and see how everyone is.” Mom would also be happy to feed us.
As soon as we arrived, Auntie Queenie bombarded me with questions before I’d even sat down. I filled her, Uncle Kenny, and Mom in on the angels’ activities and wasn’t surprised when Auntie Queenie didn’t believe Caprice had killed Bastille.
She shook her head, her bottom lip jutting out. “I need to talk to Caprice and get to the bottom of this nonsense.”
“The angels still have her. I don’t know how long they’ll hold her. When I spoke to Dazielle, she said they were hoping Caprice would confess because they don’t have enough evidence to charge her.”
“Which means she’s innocent.” Mom placed a fresh loaf on the table, alongside a plate of cheese and pickles, a pile of warm sausage rolls, and a mixed salad.
“The angels must let Caprice go if they don’t have enough evidence,” Auntie Queenie said. “Just because she was alone that night doesn’t mean she’s the killer. I could easily have snuck out of my bedroom once Kenny was asleep, crept to the hotel, and killed Bastille.”
“Not a chance,” Uncle Kenny said. “Your beautiful snoring kept me up all night.”
“Oh, that was just the drink making me snore,” Auntie Queenie said. “I could have done it. If the angels had a mind to, they could use that flimsy timeline to hold me, just like they’re doing Caprice. They have no more evidence on her than they do me.”
“Don’t offer yourself as a sacrificial lamb,” I said. “If you say things like that around the angels, they’re dumb enough to believe you.”
“There’s no reason for Caprice to want Bastille dead,” Auntie Queenie said.
I bit my lip. “She lied about her alibi. Caprice told me she was in her room all night, but Tabitha saw her leave after midnight.”
Auntie Queenie’s eyes widened and her mouth opened, but she didn’t speak.
“That doesn’t mean she’s the killer,” I continued. “There’s the problem of how she got into the garden. But Caprice hid the fact she’d left the hotel. She was up to something, but I’m not certain it was murder.”
Auntie Queenie sighed and pushed her plate of cheese and pickle sandwiches away.
That was a bad sign. Barely anything put Auntie Queenie off her food.
“Tempest is on the case.” Mom patted Auntie Queenie’s hand. “She’ll figure this out.”
“I’m doing my best,” I said. “Until the angels find conclusive proof Caprice did this, they can’t charge her. And if they do, it won’t stick. Any half-decent lawyer will get her off.”
“It shouldn’t come to that,” Auntie Queenie said. “Tempest, you have influence with the angels. They might listen to you if you plead Caprice’s case. Dazielle listens to you.”
“Not often,” I said. “She thinks I’m interfering. I’m not able to help Caprice.” But it was crucial to speak to her somehow. I had to find out why she’d lied about her alibi.
Maybe that was the missing piece of information I needed. Caprice was hiding something, and I needed to know what it was.
Chapter 15
“We’ve got a small party coming at nine, but other than that, it’s business as usual.” I stood behind the bar at Cloven Hoof, making sure everything was prepared for tonight.
Merrie Noble nodded as she walked along beside me, double checking supplies and ensuring we had enough stock. “We’ve got everything covered. Izzie’s got the night off, so Paula and Blaze are covering. I’m here as well, so we’re fine for staff.”
“That’s great. Have you checked the lemon drops?”
Merrie smiled. “Yes, five minutes ago, after you asked the first time.”
“Sorry, of course.” I was distracted by everything going on with Bastille, and my mind wasn’t on the job.
M
errie’s smile was sympathetic. “Are you making progress with what happened to Bastille?”
“I’m half-convinced it was Caprice but not enough to stop asking questions. Something’s off about her involvement in all this.”
Merrie nodded. “Don’t worry about us. If there are any problems, I’ll get in touch. You focus on helping Queenie and her friends.”
I turned and spotted Axel Shadowsoul at the other end of the bar. He raised a glass to me as I wandered over with Merrie. “Planning to have a fun night?”
“You know me. I’m always looking for a good time.” Axel was dressed all in black, which was unusual for him. His dark hair was messier than normal, and his deeply tanned skin looked less orange. In fact, he looked great.
“Make sure that good time doesn’t involve any mushrooms.”
He shook his head. “I learned my lesson. After I was duped by Ginger, or should I say Sandy, with that bag of mushrooms, I’ve gone off them. Every time I see dried mushrooms, I remember being hit with her curse.”
I smiled. “That’s called aversion therapy. Why didn’t I think of that? All the months I spent trying to convince you to keep clean and out of trouble. All I needed to do was blast you with a couple of curses and you’d have been fixed.”
Axel looked away and shrugged. “You make it sound so easy. That curse was nasty. I still wake in a cold sweat as I remember coming to underground with my mouth full of dirt and having no clue what happened.”
My smile faded. Axel had been through a lot. He put on a good front of being carefree and up for a laugh, but he’d suffered when he’d been cursed by Sandy Bishop. And he was different since recovering at the hands of his demon father, Kroni. His energy had a darker vibe.
“What did your dad do to you after he took you out of Willow Tree Falls?”
“He mainly shouted at me,” Axel said. “Dad told me I had terrible taste in friends. He also said I wasn’t to date you. Witches and demons breeding is a bad idea.”
“That’s good advice,” I said. “We should never breed.”
Axel shrugged. “He also reminded me of my future, or my potential future, if I decide to take it on.”