Witch Out of Water

by Amanda M. Lee

  I was understandably taken aback.

  “I … um … hello.”

  Barbie barely registered a facial expression. At first I thought it was because she didn’t know me. She was probably surprised to see a stranger on her doorstep. She disavowed me of that thought directly, though.

  “Hadley Hunter, right? You’re May Potter’s granddaughter. I heard you were making the rounds with Galen Blackwood. I’m surprised it took you so long to find your way to me.”

  Apparently I was already famous in Moonstone Bay. That was something. Whether it was a good or bad something, though, I couldn’t say.

  “I was hoping we could have a little talk,” I said, shifting from one foot to the other. “I have a few questions.”

  Instead of ordering me off her front porch, Barbie ushered me inside. “I was just about to make a pitcher of rum runners. Care to wet your whistle?”

  Hmm. Perhaps that explained her lack of facial expressions. She was hammered and it wasn’t even three yet. “I’m on the job,” I lied. Sure, I was Galen’s assistant in name only, but that didn’t stop me from being serious. “Just a glass of water will be fine.”

  “Suit yourself.” Barbie set about making drinks at a small corner bar, returning with a glass of water for me and a huge rum runner for herself before settling in the large wicker chair at the edge of the room. She sipped her drink, eyed me speculatively, and then flicked her fingers in my direction. “You said you had questions.”

  “Right.” Her demeanor threw me. That was probably her intent. Still, I had a job to do and I was determined to get to the bottom of the affair rumor. “So, as you know, your daughter is being charged with Trish Doyle’s murder and is incarcerated with no sign of getting out.”

  “You’re just a sunny thing, aren’t you?” Barbie sipped again, her forehead remaining dolphin smooth even though I was convinced there should be some form of facial movement. “No beating around the proverbial bush for you, huh?”

  “I don’t see how that will do anybody any good,” I replied. “I’m not convinced Ashley killed Trish. In fact, I’m kind of leaning in the opposite direction and think she’s innocent. Murder doesn’t seem her style.”

  “Do you know my daughter?”

  That was a tricky question. “Not really. I happened to be present when her friendship with Trish went south. They were angry but not stab-you-in-the-neck furious. I have trouble understanding why she would immediately turn to murder after a fight.”

  “If you’re asking me to explain the inner-workings of my daughter’s mind, you’ve come to the wrong person.” Barbie crossed one leg over the other, giving me a nice glimpse of shoes that probably cost more than Booker’s ancient van when it was new. “We aren’t all that close.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “Because she refuses to look at the bigger picture. I told her exactly how she should act, the people she should spend time with and the men she should pursue if she wants a safe financial future. She ignored every single thing I said to her.”

  “I think it’s normal for daughters and mothers to battle on issues like that,” I offered.

  “Yes, but look at me.” Barbie gestured toward her suit and shoes. “I’m clearly a good role model. I managed to squeeze a decent settlement out of Henry even though he lied about me having an affair. Everyone said it was impossible at the time, but I made it happen. If I didn’t, would I be able to get Botox every week and look this young?”

  That explained her lack of facial expressions. I should’ve figured that out on my own. “Do you think Henry purposely spread the story about you and Gus having an affair simply to make sure you’d get less in the divorce?”

  “Henry has always been a tool … with a little tool.” Barbie laughed at her own joke, the sound utterly humorless. “He saw he had an opening and took it. I knew he was really the one having the affair and I tried to tell the judge that. I couldn’t prove it, though. He and Maureen stopped seeing each other around that time, and my private investigator couldn’t get the photos I needed.

  “It’s too bad, really,” she continued. “I would’ve gotten twice the settlement I did if I could’ve proved infidelity. Henry was far too smart to allow that, though. I did get more than he wanted because I outsmarted him, but it was nowhere near as much as I wanted. I had to settle … and I hate settling.”

  That was interesting. A new wrinkle of sorts, although clearly not on Barbie’s face. “The judge didn’t believe you?”

  “The judge said he didn’t care about infidelity by either party. He said he was only interested in a fair monetary distribution. That’s a laugh, right? I should’ve gotten more.”

  “How much money did you bring into the relationship?”

  Barbie screwed up her face into a close approximation of a scowl. “I don’t work. Why would I possibly want to work?”

  I definitely should’ve taken a few moments to read this situation better. “Still, you were aware of the feud between your husband and Gus. How did you feel about it?”

  “I thought it was juvenile and petty.”

  “Did you tell your husband that?”

  “Of course not,” Barbie scoffed. “That feud kept him busy so he wasn’t constantly bugging me for things … like dinner on the table and my credit card receipts. As long as he was focused on Gus I could do whatever I wanted. That’s the way I liked things.”

  She was completely unlikable. I could see why Henry wanted to divorce her … and why he was looking for an escape. Maureen was ten times more genuine than Barbie even pretended to be. “So you just ignored the feud because it benefitted you.”

  “Pretty much.” Barbie studied her nailbeds. “Why are you interested in this? I know you’re not friends with Ashley. She wouldn’t be able to tolerate you because of her crush on Galen.”

  “Well … I happened to be with Galen when he discovered Trish’s body. It made me sad. I was also there when Ashley saw the body, and I’m convinced she’s innocent. I want to make sure the guilty party doesn’t go free. As for the other, I’m not so sure Ashley has a crush on Galen. She was involved with Booker … at least until a few days ago. I think it’s far more likely she has a crush on him.”

  “Honey, half the women on this island have been involved with Booker at one time or another,” Barbie drawled. “He’s not known for his relationship skills as much as for his ‘if the van is rocking, don’t come knocking’ skills.”

  I was mortified on behalf of her daughter. “You probably shouldn’t say things like that. I mean … Ashley was clearly interested in Booker no matter what his motivations were in the relationship.”

  Barbie snorted. “Um, no. Ashley and I didn’t spend a lot of time together, but the girl wasn’t an idiot. She didn’t always make the right choices when it came to men and makeup – definitely when it came to makeup because a pair of false eyelashes would’ve done wonders for that rather plain face – but she knew there was no future with Booker. She still had hope that she’d snag Galen if she waited him out.”

  I had no idea what to make of that. “Oh, well … .”

  Barbie barreled forward as if I hadn’t started speaking. “Ashley has loved Galen from afar for years. He’s the island’s most coveted bachelor. Do you want to know why? I’ll tell you why. It’s because he isn’t against settling down eventually. Booker will never settle down. Galen wants to do the whole family thing.

  “Now, even though he’s an attractive man I never thought he was a proper object of affection for Ashley,” she continued. “He doesn’t make enough money. The one thing my daughter inherited from me is expensive taste. She needs a man who makes a lot of money to pay for the things she wants. Neither Galen nor Booker fit that bill.”

  “The heart doesn’t always care about things like that,” I argued. “Sometimes the heart simply wants what it wants.”

  “And luckily the brain is around to fix that.” Barbie finished off her drink. “Ashley didn’t kill Trish. I’m certain
of that because there’s no money in murder, especially on this island. I mean … just ask Ned Baxter. That didn’t go well for him, did it?”

  I shifted in my chair. “I think we’re getting off topic.”

  “Trish was a worthless girl who was never going anywhere in life,” Barbie supplied. “I never liked her. I never understood why Ashley hung out with her. Quite frankly, I’m happy they’re no longer friends.”

  “They’re no longer friends because Trish is dead.”

  “And it worked out wonderfully to Ashley’s advantage,” Barbie noted. “She needs to stop focusing on friendships that gain her nothing. She needs to find a man. Her father won’t fund her lifestyle forever.”

  “Does he fund it now?”

  “Mostly.”

  Hmm. That was a bit of news I hadn’t been privy to before. “Does he want to fund her lifestyle?”

  “Who knows what Henry wants?” Barbie turned imperious. “If I knew what that man really wanted out of life we’d still be married and I’d have my hands on his money. As it stands, Ashley is getting older. Her prospects are running out. Fighting over Booker – killing over him – makes no sense. Ashley is a sensible girl.”

  I considered asking about Ashley’s paternity, just going for it, but I knew it was a waste of time. Barbie Conner was in her own world and it wasn’t one I wanted to visit for an extended stay. “Well, thanks for answering my questions. I can show myself out.”

  I FELT AS IF I needed a shower after leaving Barbie’s house. The feeling only grew when I touched the door jamb upon exiting the house and found myself overwhelmed by a flash of something I shouldn’t have seen. I couldn’t explain it. In five seconds time I saw an entire five-minute conversation from the past … and it wasn’t pretty.

  I didn’t want Barbie to know what I saw. She was in her own little world, so it wasn’t hard to cover. I did a decent job of putting on a bright smile and escaped. I wanted to lie down badly, but that wasn’t an option given the fact that I wasn’t home. Instead, I headed downtown, my mind racing, and pulled up short when I caught sight of Booker leaning against a light post in front of the fruit stand on the corner.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Booker slid me a sidelong look as he shined an apple against his shirt. “Are you asking if I killed your boyfriend and am on the lam?”

  “No. Wait … you guys didn’t fight, did you?”

  “You saw us. We always fight.”

  “I mean with your fists.” I held up mine for emphasis, causing Booker to frown.

  “Don’t hold your wrist at an angle like that if you’re going to hit someone.” He straightened my arm. “You’ll break something if you do. Don’t put your thumb like that either.” He studied my new fist. “Much better. You could do real damage to someone with that.”

  I rolled my eyes as I dropped my arms. “Ha, ha. You’re so funny.”

  “I was a comedian in another life.”

  “I have no doubt.” I rolled my neck until it cracked. “Galen is alive, right? He’s not hurt or anything, is he?”

  “Galen is perfectly fine.”

  “You didn’t lock him in the tourist center and throw away the key?”

  “He left under his own power.” Booker bit into the apple and thoughtfully chewed, swallowing before speaking again. “He wasn’t happy when he realized you took off, by the way. I haven’t heard him curse that much since the time we were on opposing volleyball teams and the island trophy was on the line.”

  “How long did it take you guys to even notice I was gone?”

  “I noticed right away. That’s because I’m observant and in tune with your emotions.”

  “You’re full of crap.”

  Booker’s smile was sheepish. “I have no idea. You were gone from the beach when we realized. We couldn’t even see you walking down the sidewalk. Galen was upset … but mostly at himself. If you play your cards right, he’ll grovel when it comes time to make up.”

  “Why would he grovel?”

  “Because he feels he let you down. I’m sure he feels guilty about ignoring you to the point you wandered off. Where did you go, by the way?”

  “To see Lilac.”

  “Yeah, I stopped in at Lilac’s place about an hour ago. You weren’t there.”

  “Then I went to Barbie Conner’s house,” I admitted. “I wanted to ask her a few questions.”

  “And how is she?”

  “Soused.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Her face doesn’t move either,” I added. “This island needs a recovery group for those who overindulge in Botox. She could be a founding member.”

  Booker snorted. “She’s looked exactly the same for years. I don’t even notice now.”

  “Yeah, well, I think the only thing she notices is herself,” I lamented, momentarily wondering if I should mention the flash to Booker and then immediately deciding against it. “She doesn’t even seem to care that Ashley is in jail. She did say that she doesn’t think Ashley would murder someone over you. Apparently you don’t make enough money to concern Barbie.”

  “Ah, I dodged a bullet.” Booker’s eyes gleamed. “You look offended on my behalf because of that. Don’t get yourself worked up. That’s simply how Barbie is. I don’t think she means anything by it.”

  “It’s offensive.”

  “I’m not offended.”

  “She made digs about Galen, too.”

  “Ah, now we’re getting to the root of it.” Booker took another bite of his apple. “I know you’re upset because you think I was using those women – perhaps even playing one against the other – but that’s not what was going down.”

  “I don’t think that’s what was going down for you,” I countered. “I think those girls were head-over-heels for you whether they wanted to admit it or not.”

  “Then that was their mistake.”

  “Because you’re not the relationship sort?”

  “Basically.” Booker bobbed his head. “I am my own person and I’m content with my life right now. That doesn’t mean I don’t want human companionship from time to time. I try to be forthright about my needs when that happens. If someone happens to get hurt in the process … well, that is not my intent.”

  I could only sigh. “You just don’t understand. I wish you did, but I’m starting to think you’re incapable.”

  “Oh, I understand. But I choose to live my life a different way.”

  “Well, what’s done is done.” I squared my shoulders. “Barbie wasn’t much help. She let a few things slip. I’m going to have to own up to interviewing her without Galen. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because Galen is so busy beating himself up over you disappearing without anyone noticing that he’ll probably forgive just about anything you did,” Booker replied. “I mean … now might be a good time to rob a bank. He feels so guilty you’d get away with it. He’s quite smitten with you.”

  Smitten? “I don’t think he would like you using that word.”

  “Why do you think I picked it?” Booker turned mischievous. “I’ve never seen him this worked up over a woman. I kind of want to torture him over it because … well, that’s what we do. But I won’t, because that would hurt you and I’m genuinely fond of you.”

  “Even though I thought you were a murderer?”

  Booker sobered. “We’ve already talked about that. You were in a bad position. I don’t blame you for what happened.”

  “You could have been killed.”

  “Not likely.”

  “But Ned was a murderer,” I persisted. “You got lucky that he was in such a hurry to get to me that he didn’t try to finish you off.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that.” Booker was so sincere it caused me to be suspicious.

  “Why don’t I have to worry about that? I mean … you can die, right?”
I had no idea what he was, but I was becoming more certain that he wasn’t a normal human being. “You’re not like … immortal, are you?”

  “You mean like the guys on Highlander?” Booker’s smile was back. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not immortal and I don’t run around chopping off heads with swords. As for the rest … it’s really not important.”

  I thought about pushing him, but now didn’t seem the time. “I should probably get going. I need to find Galen.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll find you.”

  I was almost positive that was true.

  19

  Nineteen

  I needed time to think.

  I was happy to leave Booker and his bad attitude behind. Instead of seeking out Galen – which I knew would be the mature thing to do – I decided to slink away and let him find me. I had things to ponder, and I couldn’t do that with an audience.

  I don’t know what possessed me to return to the cemetery. I felt like an idiot for doing it and yet that didn’t deter me. It was as if I were Harry Potter in the first book when he found the mirror that let him see his heart’s desire. It just so happened that his heart’s desire was to know the parents who died when he was an infant. It wasn’t quite the same for me, but it wasn’t all that different either.

  I sat on the ground near the window and put my back to a broad tree. I cast a quick look to my right, to the foliage that made me nervous the previous day, but unlike before, I was fairly certain I was alone. That was for the best.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled heavily, resting my hands on my knees. I wanted to breathe myself into a flow state, allow my mind to float on a cloud and essentially re-enter the vision I thought I’d had at Barbie Conner’s house. It was a technique I remembered reading about when one of my friends in Michigan insisted I start yoga. I found the stretching and contorting in a hot room unbearable. I liked the idea of a flow state very much, though, and I was determined to get a better look at the earlier flashes. Somehow I knew they were important.