“Gardening,” Clarissa replied, not bothering to mention that she also may or may not have been struck by lightning. That was still too weird for her to even wrap her head around. Besides, chances were it had been a near miss – wouldn’t she be dead had lightning actually struck her?
“The garden looks fantastic. I bet my neighbor would kill to have you work your magic on his rose bushes. He doesn’t have a green thumb like you. He probably has a black thumb,” the pretty blonde complained, talking a mile a minute as usual.
Clarissa didn’t bother to interject because she knew she wouldn’t be able to get a word in anyway. She didn’t bother to ask for clarification, either. She had learned long ago that her best friend’s thought processes tended to be scattered at the best of times. Sometimes it was wisest to simply let Liana think aloud without interrupting.
Blinking, Liana seemed to remember Clarissa was there. She promptly stopped rambling on about her neighbor. “Anyway, here” Liana said, thrusting a cup of coffee from the little shop on Main Street at her. “Drink this. Coffee fixes everything.”
“Thanks,” Clarissa said, though she remained unconvinced. How on earth would coffee soothe her aching muscles? Clearly that was a job for chocolate chip cookies, not caffeine. Duh!
Liana was a total caffeine junkie and it showed – the peppy blonde was always going a mile a minute. She was a tiny little bundle of energy, always in a rush. The funniest thing was when her brain couldn’t keep up with her mouth and she inevitably blurted out things she shouldn’t. That little quirk made her rather endearing.
As Clarissa stood there sipping her hot coffee, Liana sailed past her and began chattering animatedly as she paced around the living room.
“Did you hear the news?” Liana demanded.
“What news?”
“Jed Black died!” Liana announced dramatically, obviously itching to discuss the matter.
“Jed Black? You mean the mayor of Sugarcomb Lake?”
“Sure do!” Liana nodded. Her eyes widened and she grew more animated. “He was murdered!”
Clarissa’s jaw dropped. Usually the worst crimes in Sugarcomb Lake were pretty tame by most people’s standards. Vandalism and petty thefts were the sorts of minor transgressions that typically happened there. She couldn’t remember the last time there had been a murder in the quaint little town. Had there ever been one?
Well, one time gossipy old Mrs. Meddler had started a nasty little rumor.
The aptly named old biddy had shrilly accused a pizza delivery man of murdering her neighbor. She had presumably done it because the pizza delivery man had cut across her yard on his way to the neighbor’s house. She, of course, had witnessed the brutal slaying of her petunias from her window.
Therefore the only reasonable reaction had been to accuse the guy of murder, obviously.
Mrs. Meddler had been forced to retract that accusation when said neighbor had been seen strolling down the street the next afternoon in a very non-dead sort of way. It still amused Clarissa that the old woman had done so without any apology whatsoever.
Instead, she had huffily complained about the condition of her petunias. Apparently in her mind, the pizza delivery man’s carelessness justified her completely unfounded accusation of murder. Sometimes Clarissa wished she could find out what went on inside that crazy old woman’s head. But then she reminded herself it was probably best not to know.
So yes, there had been the fake murder accusation, courtesy of Mrs. Meddler.
But as far as actual murders went, this was a first as far as Clarissa could remember.
“Are you sure the mayor was murdered, or is it just some crazy small town rumor that’s floating around?” Clarissa asked. “You know how people here can be. Every coffee shop conversation ends up like a game of Telephone – one person says the mayor had a heart attack and the next hears some crazy story about a zombie ripping out the mayor’s heart.”
“Ha, I can’t argue with that,” Liana agreed, pausing to take a gulp of coffee. “But it definitely wasn’t a heart attack – or a zombie attack. The whole thing sounds pretty murder-y to me.”
“What happened?” Clarissa demanded in disbelief.
“He was found shot to death in his cabin on the outskirts of town,” Liana replied. “Hey, come to think of it, his cabin isn’t far away from your place.” She walked over to the window and peered out toward the woods. “You didn’t hear anything last night, did you?”
The color drained from Clarissa’s face. She tried to speak but only a squeak came out.
Liana spun around. “What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“I did hear something last night,” Clarissa admitted with an alarmed expression on her face. “I was in the woods chasing after this stupid cat that keeps hanging around and giving me grief. And then there was this noise. At the time, I thought it was a firework going off. But now I’m not so sure. Do you think it could have been a gunshot?”
“I don’t know. And what’s this about a cat?” Liana demanded, her eyes lighting up.
“There was something else,” Clarissa recalled. “It might be nothing, but...”
“What?” Liana prodded, unable to hide her interest. As insensitive as it was to say, the murder was the most exciting thing that had happened in the sleepy small town in, well, forever. Her fascination with the details was only natural.
“When I was in the woods a man ran through the trees near me,” Clarissa confided. “I didn’t see him and I don’t think he saw me. But I could hear him cursing under his breath. He sounded really upset. That happened right after I heard the noise that might have been a gunshot.”
“Wow! You should report what you witnessed to the police. Oh yikes, you could have come face to face with the killer out in the woods!” Liana gasped, voicing Clarissa’s own thoughts.
“It could have been nothing,” Clarissa offered unconvincingly.
“But it also could have been something!” Liana pointed out. “Word around town is the police have no idea who killed Jed Black. So the killer is still on the loose. That’s a creepy feeling, huh? But anyway, yes, go give a statement. I’ll come with you if you want.”
“Yeah, okay,” Clarissa agreed. “So much for job hunting this morning,” she sighed.
“Seriously, I will talk to that neighbor of mine with the awful front yard. You’d be willing to clean it up for him for the right price, yes?” Liana asked, following Clarissa as she went to the bathroom to brush her long dark hair. “Please say yes! I can’t stand to look at it anymore!”
“At this point I’d be willing to do almost anything,” Clarissa smirked. “When I bought this place I was counting on, you know, not losing my job. But with this economy, things are tough. I’m not going to be able to afford the mortgage if something doesn’t soon change. I’m thinking about advertising for a roommate.”
Liana made a face. “I’d offer but...”
“I know, I know. Fastest way to ruin a friendship is to live together,” Clarissa grinned.
“Also I am very messy.”
“Yes,” Clarissa nodded. “Yes you are. You’re not invited to be my roommate!”
Liana laughed. “Hurry up and get dressed,” she ordered. Then she walked over to the mirror in the entryway and began to primp. “I wonder if we’ll run into any good looking cops down at the station?” she mused hopefully.
That was Liana: always on the prowl. Under normal circumstances Clarissa would have smirked, rolled her eyes and perhaps teased her best friend a bit. But at the moment, she was completely distracted by what she may or may not have heard the previous night.
Had she inadvertently become a witness in a murder investigation?
***
“Are you done already?” Liana demanded when Clarissa emerged from giving her statement a short while later. “You weren’t even in there for two minutes!”
“I know,” Clarissa said in dismay.
“All the cops here are so old,” L
iana whispered in disappointment.
“All the cops here are old and inept,” Clarissa shot back angrily.
“What do you mean?” Liana asked, climbing to her feet. “What happened in there?”
Through gritted teeth, Clarissa explained, “I went in there and the officer pretty much accused me of being a hysterical woman with an overactive imagination. He was all like ‘don’t you worry little lady, we’ve got this all under control.’ It was so infuriating! He didn’t even write down any of what I told him.”
“Wow, that’s awful,” Liana said sympathetically. “I hate old geezers like that.”
“Yeah, and worst of all they probably won’t ever catch the mayor’s killer with that kind of know-it-all attitude,” Clarissa complained. “I think they’re more interested in eating donuts and chatting around the water cooler than actually, you know, doing their jobs. It’s like a bad cliché come to life. A man died! His killer needs to be brought to justice.”
“Maybe his death was karma,” Liana offered, likely in an attempt to console her friend.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well you know Jed Black’s reputation,” Liana shrugged. “It’s a small town. People talk. He was a tyrannical businessman who used threats and intimidation to become mayor. And then, as if he wasn’t bad enough before becoming mayor, the power went to his head. I hate to say it, but he probably had it coming.”
“That’s an awful thing to say!” Clarissa scolded her best friend. Then she added, “I mean, even if he was a terrible person, it’s still not okay that he was murdered. No one deserves that. And whoever did it shouldn’t just get away with it.”
“I agree, but what are you going to do?” Liana said absentmindedly. It was clear her mind was elsewhere. “I need coffee,” she announced. The woman was completely and utterly obsessed with coffee. In fact, given how much she consumed, she probably had pure coffee running through her veins.
“We just had coffee at my place!” Clarissa reminded her. “And they were huge cups!”
“Yes, but that was like, a whole hour ago! I need more coffee. Are you coming with me?”
“No, I need to go turn in some resumes around town,” Clarissa replied.
“It’s Saturday! Take the day off.”
“Take the day off from what, unemployment? Sorry, but I don’t have time for coffee,” Clarissa insisted. Besides, she knew if she agreed to join her friend for coffee they would be sitting there at the quaint little coffee shop all day. She wasn’t really interested in small town gossip – especially not when she needed to find a job like, yesterday.
“Suit yourself – I’ll talk to my neighbor about hiring you to landscape his yard. Call you later!”
Clarissa gave her friend a wave and then wandered down the tree lined street.
The leaves were all beginning to turn beautiful shades of red, yellow and orange. Some were sprinkled on the street like colorful confetti. It was quite a pretty sight, even if it did mean that winter was right around the corner.
Clarissa stopped in every shop she passed and tried to leave resumes wherever possible. But she kept getting the same apologetic reply: nobody was hiring. Frustrated, she headed down to the town square to post a “Roommate Wanted” sign on the bulletin board down there.
“Did you hear about Jed Black?” Clarissa overheard one middle aged woman say to another.
“Isn’t it terrible,” the other woman clucked. “Then again, his wife doesn’t seem too distraught.”
“No?”
“Nope, I saw Bonnie Black at the grocery store this morning. She was buying wine and a big chocolate cake. I know everybody grieves differently, but she didn’t even seem very upset. She looked good. In fact,” the woman said, “I thought she looked too good, if you know what I mean. It was almost as though she was getting ready to throw a party!”
Clarissa’s eyebrows shot up at the odd revelation. Then she realized she was standing there blatantly eavesdropping. She quickly hurried over to put her sign up on the bulletin board before the women noticed and gave her disapproving looks.
“You’re local,” a man’s voice said.
Clarissa turned to see a tall guy around her age standing there.
With his button up tweed coat and carefully arranged scarf, he looked very professional. He also looked completely out of place. Clarissa had lived in Sugarcomb Lake her entire life, aside from her college years. If she had laid eyes on this guy before, she would have remembered it. He had one of those unforgettable faces.
“You’re not from around here,” she shot back.
“Guilty as charged,” he grinned, showing that he had very nice, very straight white teeth. “I drove in from the city to find out more about the murder that took place here last night. My name is Parker,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m a journalist.”
Clarissa’s breath caught in her throat.
She knew his type.
Those big shot pretentious reporters from the city had always treated her with disdain, as though her work wasn’t to be taken seriously just because she was from a small town. She had never met this guy in particular – she would have remembered those brilliant blue eyes. But still, journalists from the city were all unbearable. Of that she was certain.
“Who do you work for?” she asked cautiously. In her experience, some big city reporters were worse than others. The freelancers tended to be the most pleasant, while the ones employed by big name media agencies were usually the most conceited.
Clarissa hoped this guy was a freelancer.
“I’m with The Green City Chronicle,” he told her.
“You work for The Green City Chronicle?” she asked in dismay, hoping it wasn’t true.
“Yes,” he nodded, looking pleased. “So you’ve heard of it.”
“Heard of it? I wrote for The Sugarcomb Gazette,” she said pointedly.
“Oh. Oh,” he said when the implication became clear. “The paper closure was a shame.”
“What did you say your name was, again?” Clarissa asked Parker suspiciously.
“Parker,” he replied.
“And your last name?”
“What is this, an interrogation?” he teased. “I’m Parker Tweed.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Your father is Elwood Tweed.”
“He is.”
Her heart sank. “He’s the owner of The Green City Chronicle.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Parker confirmed.
Immediately, Clarissa recoiled. That was so, so much worse than Parker simply being a journalist for some random Green City newspaper. He was with the arch nemesis of The Sugarcomb Gazette...back before the Gazette had met its untimely demise, that is.
Parker was the son of the awful man who had put her out of a job! He was, in a roundabout way, the very reason she was struggling to afford her next mortgage payment! That settled it: she had no interest in talking to the man standing in front of her.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Parker said, unaware that he had just made an enemy.
“I didn’t tell you my name.”
“Ah, right. Well are you going to tell me?”
“No. I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“You’re a difficult woman, aren’t you Clarissa?”
“How do you know my name?” she demanded.
He looked over at the sign she had hung on the bulletin board. “Clean, quiet roommate wanted,” he read. “Serious inquiries only – for further information, please call Clarissa Spencer at –”
“Okay okay, so you can read,” Clarissa interrupted, feeling inexplicably embarrassed.
“Yes, being able to read comes in handy when you’re a journalist. But you know that. I bet folks here will really miss having a local newspaper given what happened last night. But hopefully I can fill that void,” he said, flashing a million dollar smile.
“You can’t,” Clarissa said flatly, insulted that he would suggest such a thing.
<
br /> “I beg your pardon?” Parker sputtered, clearly taken aback.
“You don’t understand small town dynamics,” she informed him, annoyed that he thought he could just drive in from the city and pick up where The Sugarcomb Gazette had left off. “People here don’t just want to read the news – they want that home town charm, that familiarity. You’re not from here so you can’t possibly understand.”
He shrugged. “I’m just here to do my job. Did you know Jed Black personally?”
“No.”
“You didn’t know him at all?” Parker tried again. “But it’s such a small town, and he was the mayor. Plus you were a reporter! Surely you must have known him – or his family – a little,” he pressed, unwilling to take no for an answer.
“Only in passing,” she shrugged, uninterested in continuing the conversation.
“Well can I interview you?” he asked.
“Sorry, I’m busy.”
“Doing what?”
Clarissa’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”
“Well you don’t look very busy,” Parker pointed out, not incorrectly. “You were just standing there eavesdropping on those women.”
“I was not!” Clarissa insisted indignantly.
“It’s okay. I was eavesdropping on them too. It’s hard not to when they talk so loudly, isn’t it? So what do you think, is Jed Black’s wife actually involved in his murder? That’s what those two ladies seem to think, isn’t it?”
“Why don’t you go ask them? I’m afraid I’m too busy to talk,” Clarissa said stubbornly.
“What are you so busy doing?” Parker asked again.
“Who asks that?!” she demanded in indignation.
“People who don’t believe you’re actually busy,” he replied with a wink.
Feeling her face redden, Clarissa crossed her arms. “I am very sorry but I cannot help you,” she said in far-too-formal language, mincing every word. “I have to go now.” With that, she turned on her heel and stormed away.
Who did Parker Tweed think he was? How dare he strut into town and try to fill the void that had been left when the local paper had shut down? She wasn’t having it. As she stomped back home, a plan was already forming in her mind.
A Taste of Magic (A Sugarcomb Lake Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 3