The Midsummer Murders

by Jill Nojack

  “But...” He didn’t have time to finish; the crow dive-bombed him as she rushed away, its claws barely missing his right eye. He batted at the bird with one hand as he protected his face with the other, and it backed off after a couple of minutes, circled him closely once, then took to the sky, flying lazy circles along the same path Twink had taken.

  It was too late to catch up with her. She was already out of the alley at the far end, and he didn’t know which direction she’d turned, having been occupied fighting off the attack. But her anger would blow over. He was sure it would. She’d been trying so hard to keep her temper in check since she started living with her cousin Daria. She didn’t want to be a drama mama like her mother. He knew that. And she was so much better now at chilling out when she needed to.

  Yes, it would be okay, he reassured himself. It had to be. Because he couldn’t imagine his life without her. She’d calm down. She always did.

  It’s just that he’d been looking forward to spending time with someone who was smart, pretty, and soft, and who didn’t smell like deep-fried battered fish...and she’d looked extra good today, too, with her hair swept up on one side like that. The jewelry in her 'do made her look sophisticated, like one of the stars in those old movies Bill liked.

  So, that took the fun out of the rest of his day. His job was making him smell like bird food, and his girlfriend wasn’t talking to him. And he’d bet a week’s pay that his gram would go on and on over dinner about Twink asking for that advance. And with school out for the summer, he couldn’t even escape by claiming he had to study.

  2

  The shop door was locked when Marcus tried it, but Natalie noticed him as she finished up the closing chores and waved a hand lazily toward it. He knew what that meant. He tried again, and it opened easily. The bell chimed over his head as he entered. He bent to give Cat a rub behind the ears before he greeted his foster grandmother with, “You good to go?”

  She took one last look around. “It appears everything is in its place. Not that Gillian won’t rearrange it tomorrow...”

  “Just to bug you. Yeah, I know,” Marcus said, completing her sentence.

  She fetched her red purse from behind the counter as she said, “Stuffed full of knowledge today, are we? I suppose you’re also already aware of my run-in with your girlfriend?”

  “Sure. But I told her it was between the two of you.”

  He held the door open for her as she replied, “Very wise of you. It’s not something you’d want to get in the middle of. Of all things, she’s now decided she can’t live without expensive geegaws that have no purpose other than to decorate her boudoir.” Natalie waved an arm in a flourish as she exaggerated the word in something approximating a French accent. “You need to teach her the value of saving for a rainy day.”

  Marcus shrugged. “It’s her first job, and she’s only had it for a couple of months. She’ll get used to having money and figure out how to handle it. Took me a while, too. You know she has a birthday comin’ up, right? Where was this perfume bottle she wanted?”

  “Oh yes, I’m more than aware she’s having a birthday. Like she’d let any of us forget!” Natalie made a sour face. “Our annual Midsummer festival, the shop’s busiest day of the year, which requires all the workers be in attendance, conveniently falls on the same day specifically to make her life a misery. As to the bottle—it was at that new shop, Ling’s Things, she said.”

  They walked around the building side by side to his car as she continued, “You should get her something sensible. A mortar and pestle, for instance, would help her craft. We have some nice ones in the shop.”

  “Sure,” he said, “I’ll think about that. And then I’ll think about being the object of her first curse when she unwraps the witch equivalent of a blender.”

  ***

  When Twink entered the parlor, Daria closed her laptop and looked up, asking, “Find anything to do today, cuz?”

  Twink shrugged. “Got into a fight with Marcus. A stupid one. But he always defends Natalie. I’m sick of it! He’s known me way longer than he’s known her. He should back me up, not her.” She sat on the arm of the couch and frowned. “So then I had nothing to do because I’m not talking to him. I just walked around town.”

  Daria shrugged. “Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten in a fight.”

  Twink crossed her arms. “Why isn’t anyone ever on my side?”

  “I’m on your side, girl, you know I am. But what do you want Marcus to do? Badmouth Natalie after she got him out of that group home in Boston? You want him to still be there? Because you’re gonna be a lot more bored if that happens.”

  Twink sighed. “No. I just...you got an extra hundred bucks you could loan me, maybe?”

  “Me? I don’t think so! I’m getting steady work now, but it’s still not full time. And you know how much it costs to feed a teenager?”

  “You’re right. You do enough for me already.” Twink slid down onto the couch and slumped sideways with her elbow on the arm she’d just been sitting on. “I really want this antique perfume bottle I saw today. It, like, belongs on my vanity, you know?”

  “Girl, you don’t need to tell me about wantin’ all the pretty things. ‘Cause I hear ya.” The loaded charm bracelet on her wrist jingled as she picked up a frosted pitcher of iced tea and poured herself half a glass, then moved the pitcher toward Twink, offering the last of it. “You want some? You’ll have to go up to the kitchen and bring down a glass, though. I only got the one.”

  Twink shook her head. “Nah.”

  “What did you spend your last paycheck on already, anyway?” Daria asked, as she topped up her glass with the last of the tea. “That barrette looks new. And expensive.”

  Twink’s hand went to the side of her head where she checked to make sure the hair accessory was still secure. “It’s not a barrette. It’s got teeth like an afro comb.” Her phone dinged and she looked down and swiped to read the text. Maybe it was from Marcus, apologizing for letting her down like he did.

  But it wasn’t; it was from that girl, Mindy. And she hated what she saw there.

  Mom sold the bottle sorry c u

  “Now I’ll never have it because of that mean old witch!” She bounded off the couch, ran upstairs to her room, and slammed the door as Daria’s voice drifted up the stairs saying, “Let me know what you want for dinner when you’re chillaxed?”

  At least her cousin knew better than to follow her and get all up in her business.

  A crow—a big one—landed on the flower box outside her window when she threw herself on the bed the wrong way around. It pecked like it wanted in, and its coal black eyes stayed on her face as she looked right at it. Just another creepy thing about creepy Giles, she thought.

  She sat up and kicked off her sandals. The feel of the vintage red satin bedspread against her bare feet as she folded them in front of her was silky and cool. She took the comb out of her hair, holding it for a while, enjoying the tingle she knew could only be magic. She didn’t know what the magic did, but she’d wanted it for her own the second she’d picked it up. Just like she’d wanted the empty perfume bottle that made her hand prickle; it crackled with the stuff. Whatever spell was attached to it, it had to be something worth having. Because a spell, any kind of spell, was always interesting.

  Her old-lady mentors would get all crazy if they caught her messing around with magic they hadn’t approved in advance, but she was ready to try some things on her own. She was feeling confident. She hadn’t set anything on fire or shattered anything accidentally for a long time.

  It didn’t matter now, though. The bottle was sold. She went to the vanity and moved aside a layer of necklaces and bracelets in the old-fashioned tortoise-shell jewelry box that had come with her furnished room, put the comb in, and then covered it back up with her other things. That should keep it safe.

  Maybe she could find out who Mrs. Li sold the bottle to and try to buy it back from them. She could come up with a kickin’
story, she bet. Family heirloom, accidentally sold off by my cousin. She’s not all there, you know what I mean? She circled a finger around one ear and practiced her pleading look in the big vanity mirror.

  Not bad. It could work. Marcus said she had a talent for getting people to do things her way. She cheered up a little.

  But he wouldn’t like it if she lied.

  She frowned involuntarily when she thought of him catching her at it. There went that plan. Not that she’d really considered it, doing something dishonest. Not really.

  She glanced at the window, thinking she’d close the curtains if the bird was still staring in at her with its evil-looking eyes, but it was gone. She went to the stairs and called down, “I’ll make some pasta for dinner, if you want,” then started for the kitchen at the end of the upstairs hall when Daria called up her thanks.

  ***

  The woman in the shop had done a really nice job boxing up Nana’s gift, Felicia thought, as she untied the ribbon, then pulled the ends of the tissue paper out so it spilled over the sides and splayed out around the bottle like flower petals. She set it lovingly in her grandmother’s hands where they lay idle in her lap.

  Very pretty. Not that she knew whether that would have much impact on Nana. She didn’t communicate very well since the second stroke, and Felicia never knew what she understood and what she didn’t.

  “I had to get this for you,” she said. “It reminded me of the ones you let me play with at your house when I was a kid. I thought maybe it would make you feel more at home here.”

  Nana had always been a collector who loved having pretty things around her. Felicia’s lips squeezed together tightly as she held back the urge to complain about how her mother had cleared Nana’s house as soon as they moved her into care. Nana’s life history had been wiped out in the space of a day except for some family photos, artwork, and the two chairs they currently occupied.

  The side of Nana’s mouth twitched as she lifted the empty perfume bottle to turn it in her uncertain hands. It was probably a smile. But it looked more like a grimace.

  “We’ll need to find the best place to put it. On the bedside table by the window where the sun can hit it and make the rhinestones sparkle? It’d look nice next to the mirror and brush set I brought you last week.”

  Nana’s mouth twitched again as the bottle dropped from her hands back into the box. Poor Nana. She had so little grip strength in her hands now.

  “It’s decided, then,” Felicia continued. “I’ll put it there where you can see it once we’re done visiting. Let me set it here for now...” She stood to retrieve the bottle and box and placed them on the floor next to her chair after rearranging the bottle artfully in its tissue paper nest. “Are you warm enough?”

  She inspected the blanket over Nana’s knees and found a place that needed tucking in, before she settled in to sit for a while in companionate silence.

  2

  William had hoped to sneak by Denton’s office without having to talk about It. The It being the big, fat lie he’d have to tell about the reason for his being in the hospital. He hated lying, especially to someone he respected as much as Denton. He was nearly past the chief’s open office door when Denton’s big voice boomed out, “Bailey, step in for a minute.”

  Golly. Here it comes.

  He walked into the office to sit across from Denton, who stood and leaned with both hands on his desk. Uh oh. That was Denton’s “authority” pose.

  “First, I was glad to hear last night that you were okay , Bill, although I’m disappointed you didn’t return my call. The mayor reassured me, though, when I called on a different matter.”

  “Uh, yeah, I uh...”

  “Forget it. I understand. I’m not one to linger over my weaknesses, either. But if you’ve got a health issue to address, take care of it. That’s all that needs to be said. Plus, we’ve got other fish to fry. Horace called in a suspicious death out at the nursing home, and I couldn’t make heads or tails out of the nonsense he was spouting.”

  “What kind of nonsense?”

  “Some claptrap about mummies. Fantastical stuff. I swear this town eventually turns even the most sensible human beings into fairy-tale-believing nincompoops. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me your medical problems are related to the procedures you underwent during your alien abduction.”

  “You won’t find me talking aliens. No sir, that’s just crazy. But I want to get it out there that I have been holding back until the time was right on confessing that I’m a magical genie without a bottle.”

  Denton gave him an eye roll as he belted on his gun.

  “Admit it, Chief. I’m sure you’ve suspected.” Bill took off the peaked cap that completed his uniform and leaned his head toward Denton. “Go on. Make a wish and give the ol’ headbone a rub.”

  Denton’s mouth curled up at the corners just the slightest as he said, “Go on, grab your kit and meet me at my cruiser. I’ll hold off on the wishes until after I sort out what Horace is on about.”

  William grinned as he walked down the hall to grab his bag of crime scene investigation gear. Whew. No lies told. And the truth didn’t even raise an eyebrow. If the chief had believed him, his reaction would have been very different; William never wanted to see it. He had to come up with something soon to prevent Denton from ever finding out there was more to his newest officer than met the eye. And that probably meant leaving the force, which he didn’t want to think about; he loved the job, and he was good at it. His grin faded.

  ***

  The nursing home had changed a lot from what William remembered about his grandmother’s stay there. The original 1950s building had been pulled down and replaced with one that was modern, friendlier. Even though the original had been a place only the wealthy could afford, it had been a terrible place that felt like a hospital ward. This one had pleasant rooms that were like small apartments, providing each of the residents a degree of privacy while still being able to accommodate medical monitoring. It had that smell, though. The immediate disinfectant smell of the institution, and below that, the fusty smell of unhealthy old people that the first one was trying to mask.

  In the center of an entry lobby filled with comfortable couches and potted plants, Officer Horace Greenway was talking to an obviously distressed young lady in a long blouse and those new-fangled leggings women wore that made them look like they’d forgotten to put a skirt on over their tights. Horace’s red nose bobbed up and down on a discontented face above a well-fed body as he sympathized badly.

  William intervened as Denton headed to the front desk to ask for the manager in charge. “The chief sent me over, if that’s okay with you, miss...?”

  “Felicia Bentwhistle,” Horace supplied.

  “Thanks,” William said, addressing Horace. “The chief says you can get back out on patrol. We’ve got it from here.”

  Horace cocked his head and said, “A word first, Bill,” turning back to the distraught woman to ask, “If you don’t mind?” She raised her shoulders in response.

  He put a hand on William’s shoulder and addressed him in a comradely tone as he led him off to the side of the room. “I didn’t think I’d be here long when I got the call—people call us out here all the time accusin’ the staff of theft, or they’re sure their relatives are bein’ abused or neglected. Never comes to much. It’s the stress of havin’ a dying family member, that’s what I figure.”

  William nodded. “It’s hard on a family, losing a loved one.”

  The other man’s head bobbed in response, then he continued, “But this is different; I checked it out and cleared the room once I saw what was in there. The granddaughter,” he said, inclining his head toward Felicia, “she’s pretty upset. I don’t know what happened to her granny, but that woman sure didn’t pass peacefully in her sleep.”

  His head shook back and forth for a beat, and his expression was grim, “I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it.”

  4

  Twi
nk hadn’t expected to see Marcus so soon after the big fight the day before. And she definitely hadn’t expected to see him outside of Ling’s Things with Mindy Li’s hand on his arm, looking up at him with a seductive smile on her face. The half-Asian girl was way overdressed for retail work in a tight dress and heels, and her super-straight, shiny, dyed-blonde hair was almost sparkling in the late morning sunlight.

  Twink wished she’d worn something nicer than jeans and flats. And that she’d done her hair up with her new comb. But she hadn’t. It was just tied back to keep it out of her way. Because why was Marcus even downtown today, anyway? He shouldn’t be. He hadn’t told her he would be.

  And why was he with Mindy Li? She didn’t even know that he knew her.

  Mindy noticed her walking toward them and called, “Hey, Twink!”

  “Mindy,” Twink acknowledged her flatly.

  “You have the best boyfriend, do you know that?”

  “Yeah, I do. So maybe other girls should keep their hands off.” Twink did her best to puff up her tiny frame as her shoulders rocked side to side to show she could be a threat.

  Mindy laughed as she moved her hand from Marcus’s arm to slap against her own chest, laughing. “Oh wow, did you think I was coming on to him? No way. Not with Brett Snyder circling around now that he and Georgia have broken up—I mean, that guy sizzles. And he’s rich. Brainy boys? Not my type. I just meant that he was asking about buying that perfume bottle for you.”

  Her attention moved to Marcus. “I told you not to do that! Your money’s for school!”

  Marcus shrugged. “You have a birthday coming up. How much trouble would I be in if I didn’t get you something?”

  “Oh...I mean yeah. You better get me something! But not something that costs so much money.”

  “You deserve something you really want. But Mindy’s mom already sold the bottle, so...”