Witch School Dropout: A Witch Squad Cozy Mystery #7

by M. Z. Andrews

  “She didn’t do anything wrong, Louis,” I hissed at him. “She found him like that.”

  Louis folded his arms across his chest and harrumphed, throwing his narrow nose up in the air.

  Detective Whitman looked back at me curiously. “Why does he think that Sweets killed him?”

  “Because he’s an angry little troll. He’s never liked Sweets. She could have just as easily accused Louis of killing Mr. Bailey,” I pointed out. I tipped my head sideways as I studied Louis and suddenly I wondered if perhaps Louis had killed Mr. Bailey.

  Detective Whitman frowned. “They haven’t pronounced Vic dead. They’re still working on him. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  I hung my head. “He’s dead,” I whispered.

  “Until I have a physician’s statement…”

  “I have the ghost’s statement,” I said, cutting him off. I glanced up at Detective Whitman with tears burning in my eyes. “Will that do?”

  He stared at me and then took a long deep inhale. “Why don’t you get the girls into a booth in the lobby? I need to give my men some instructions here, but I’ll be in to talk to you in a few minutes.”

  I didn’t move. My feet felt like lead. I was still in shock.

  “Mercy? Are you alright? Should I call Linda and have her come down here?” he asked.

  I let out a shallow breath and looked down at my fingers. Keep it together, Mercy. “No,” I said quietly. “I’ll be alright.” I pulled my head back up, stiffened my spine, and walked over to the girls. “Come on girls. Let’s go sit down in the lobby while Detective Whitman sorts all of this out.”

  Together, the four of us helped Sweets to the booth we sat in earlier, when Mr. Bailey was still alive. Sweets let her head rest on the table as her shoulders shook. Flanking either side of her, Jax and Holly rubbed her back.

  Alba looked up at me curiously. She didn’t speak, but I knew what she wanted to know.

  I nodded. Yes, I see his ghost, I thought. Her narrowed eyes told me she was trying to read my mind.

  She blinked in acknowledgment. “It’s going to be alright, Sweets,” she said.

  Sweets looked up. Her makeup was smeared, and her cheeks were blotchy. “How’s it ever going to be alright? Char and Mr. Bailey just got married! How’s Char going to survive without him?”

  “Char’s a tough cookie,” Alba assured her. “She made it through her grandson’s death. She’ll make it through this. We just have to be there for her.”

  Sweets reached across the table and pulled a paper towel from the dispenser on the table and wiped her nose with it as she sniffled. “Has anyone called Char?”

  “I did,” said a voice from the kitchen.

  7

  Detective Whitman walked around the counter. “I sent one of my men to pick her up in a squad car.” He stopped next to our booth and looked down at Sweets who still had her head on the table. He looked up at me. “Can we talk?”

  I put my hand on Sweets’ back. “You up to talking, Sweets?”

  Slowly, she sat up. She blotted her eyes as her bottom lip quivered. “Yes. I’ll tell you what I know.”

  Detective Whitman pulled a chair from one of the square tables and slid it over next to the booth. He pulled a notepad from his jacket pocket as he sat down in front of us. “Let’s start with you giving me a rundown of the events today that led up to you finding Vic.”

  Sweets took a deep breath. “Well, it all started with the party,” she said. “The party which you didn’t show up for.” Even through her grief, Sweets managed to remind Detective Whitman that she’d noticed his absence at her event.

  He winced. “I wish I’d made that party now. I was catching up on paperwork and lost track of time. I’m very sorry. I regret not seeing Vic before he passed.”

  Sweets patted her cheeks lightly and gave him a tight smile. “It’s okay,” she said with a sigh. “So, we had the party. Everything went great.”

  “It started at noon?”

  Sweets nodded. “Yes. I know many of the downtown vendors close from noon to one so I thought that would be the best time to catch them. Char and Mr. Bailey had a great time. He seemed fine and very healthy at the party. They wanted to stay and help with clean-up, but I wouldn’t let them. They said they were going home to unpack.”

  Detective Whitman nodded as he jotted down things in his notebook. “What time did they leave the party?”

  Sweets looked back at us. “Do you girls remember?”

  Jax nodded. “It was about one-forty-five.”

  “That sounds about right,” I agreed, nodding my head. Many of the shopkeepers left a little before one, but lots of his customers stayed later.

  As the detective wrote the time down, he glanced up at Sweets. “I’ll need a guest list.”

  “Okay. I’ll get that to you as soon as I can.”

  He nodded. “So, then what?”

  “The girls and I stayed to clean up after the party.”

  Detective Whitman nodded as he wrote. “Did Mr. Albertson stay and help clean up?”

  I jerked my head sideways and blew a puff of air out my nose.

  Detective Whitman eyed me carefully. “What was that for?”

  “Louis left Sweets to do the clean-up. Tell him, Sweets.”

  Sweets let out a little nervous laugh. I could tell ratting out her co-worker made her feel uncomfortable. “Well, he said he wasn’t feeling well. The girls helped me put everything away and then we went to Habernackle’s for a little while.”

  Detective Whitman interrupted her. “I’m sorry, for the record approximately what time did you leave the bakery?”

  Sweets looked at us. “Two-thirty?”

  We all nodded in agreement.

  “Did you lock all the doors and turn off all the lights?”

  “Yes. I remember locking up. I’m sure I turned off all the lights too.”

  He nodded and moved his hand forward as if to tell her to keep going with her story.

  Sweets took a breath. “While we were at Habernackle’s, I got a call from Abraham Abner. He works for Food Specialties, our food delivery service. He reminded me that I had placed an order for today and that he needed someone to let him in – he had our delivery. I told him he could unload it onto the loading dock, and I’d be right down to put it inside, but he said he needed a signature. So, the girls and I rushed right back down here.”

  “What time did he call you?”

  Sweets pulled her phone out of her pocket and flipped through her apps with her finger. “Umm, it was two-forty-three.” She looked at him. When he didn’t say anything, she kept going. “The girls and I loaded up, drove over and I signed for the supplies. I went inside just as he was leaving.”

  “How did he know you weren’t inside? Did he try knocking on the door?”

  The right corner of Sweets’ mouth dipped. “I have no idea. I didn’t ask him. I guess you’d have to assume he knocked. But he had my number. I gave the company my cell number when I placed the order because we close early on Mondays. I wasn’t sure I’d be there when he came.”

  “Okay, now start going slow. What did things look like when you got here?” asked Detective Whitman.

  “Look like? They looked like they always look.”

  “Nothing seemed out of place?”

  Sweets shook her head. “The light was on, that was all. I thought maybe Louis remembered we had that food delivery coming and came back to help unload it.”

  “Was he here?”

  “Not at that point. At least I didn’t see him, and he didn’t come when I called.”

  “Okay, so then what?”

  Sweets rubbed her hand over her cheeks. “Umm, I called for him. He didn’t respond. I opened the overhead garage door and started bringing in the boxes. Then I thought maybe it was Mr. Bailey that was here, not Louis. So, I peeked outside and saw that Mr. Bailey’s car was in his parking spot.”

  “You didn’t notice the car there when you first got here?�
��

  “The food truck was parked in the way, so I didn’t see it when I came in.”

  Detective Whitman nodded as he continued to take notes in his little notepad.

  “I started calling for Mr. Bailey as I dragged in the rest of the boxes. I put away a couple of boxes in the walk-in cooler and then when I went to put a box in the walk-in freezer, I noticed the light was already on in there. I assumed that either someone forgot to shut it off during the party or Mr. Bailey had turned it on. I hollered out to tell him the light was on and that was when I pulled the door open, and there he was…” she said, her voice crackled as the story got closer to the part where she found him on the floor. Her lower lip began to quiver again until finally the tears simmering in her eyes burst loose and streamed down her cheeks once again.

  Holly and Jax squeezed her arms. “Take a deep breath, Sweets,” Jax suggested.

  Sweets nodded and took a few deep breaths before continuing. This time her voice was shaky. “He was lying on the ground. He didn’t look like he was breathing…” she sobbed.

  Detective Whitman cleared his throat and looked down at his notepad while adjusting himself in his seat. Mr. Bailey had been a friend of his too. I could tell this wasn’t going to be easy for him either, or anyone else in Aspen Falls that knew Mr. Bailey. He cleared his throat again and looked up. His voice sounded intentionally deeper. “How did he get from the freezer to the middle of the kitchen?”

  “I dragged him,” said Sweets, sniffling. “I thought maybe I could save him. I tried CPR…”

  “Do you think he had been in there long?”

  “He couldn’t have been in there long, I was only gone for about fifteen minutes,” said Sweets as the realization of the timeline hit her.

  “And there’s no way that he was here while you were cleaning up and you just didn’t realize it?”

  Sweets shook her head. “No. We all saw him leave. The place was empty when we drove away. I’m sure of it.”

  “Can the freezer lock from the inside? Is it possible he got locked inside?”

  “No, not unless someone locked him in with the key from the outside.”

  “But you found the door unlocked when you got here?”

  Sweets nodded. “Yes.”

  Detective Whitman sat up a little bit straighter. “At what point did Louis Albertson arrive back on the scene?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know exactly what time. It was a few minutes after I got here. I dragged Mr. Bailey’s body out and started doing CPR on him when Louis showed up. I asked him to call 911, but he wouldn’t.”

  “He wasn’t the one to call the station?” asked Detective Whitman in surprise.

  Jax shook her head. “I was the one that called, Detective.”

  “Huh,” he said with surprise. “That seems a little odd. Do you know why he refused to call?”

  Sweets looked down at her fingers. “I think he thought it was already too late. He seemed to know that Mr. Bailey was already gone.”

  “Is Louis Albertson – uh – ” Detective Whitman made a face as he searched for a word. “Paranormal?”

  Sweets shrugged hesitantly. “I don’t think he is.”

  I turned to stare at Sweets. “He most certainly is not!” I said firmly. I was shocked that Sweets wasn’t going to share Louis’ attitude with Mr. Bailey earlier in the day.

  “Why do you say that, Mercy?”

  “Because early today, at the party, Mr. Bailey told Sweets and Louis that he was thinking of slowing down a little bit so he and Char could start traveling more. Mr. Bailey and Char asked Sweets if she could start working more full-time hours and Louis had a fit. He wanted to take over running the bakery as Mr. Bailey worked towards retirement, but he can’t do the herbal potions that Mr. Bailey and Sweets can do because he’s not a wizard.”

  “So, Louis was upset with Mr. Bailey?”

  Sweets frowned at me. “I wouldn’t say upset, necessarily.”

  I furrowed my eyebrows at her. “Sweets! He definitely was upset.”

  “Well maybe, but I don’t think that was why he wouldn’t help me. It’s not like he was intentionally trying to withhold care or something,” disputed Sweets.

  I looked away. While I thought the little fit Louis had thrown at the party was evidence of Louis’ anger, I couldn’t say for certain that he would be upset enough to withhold care from Mr. Bailey or even go so far as to hurt him. Without knowing for sure, I knew I had to keep my mouth shut. I had a way with fingering a guilty party before I had all the facts straight. It was something I needed to work on.

  “Mercy, you said earlier you … uh – had a vision?” asked Detective Whitman, straightening his tie.

  “Yes. Mr. Bailey’s ghost was sitting in this booth when I came looking for him.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “In the kitchen,” I said, gesturing in that direction with my head.

  “Maybe you could invite him in here, and I could ask him a few questions?” asked Detective Whitman shifting about uncomfortably.

  I stood up without saying a word and went looking for Mr. Bailey. When I got into the kitchen, I found Char, Regis, and Gran staring down at Mr. Bailey’s body in shock and horror. Mr. Bailey’s ghost stood quietly in a corner with his eyes glued to Char.

  I rushed over to them. “Char, Gran. You’re here.”

  Char came to me and took my hands. Hers trembled as she gripped mine tightly. “What happened, dear? What happened to my Vic?”

  “We’re trying to figure that out,” I promised her. “I’m so sorry Char.”

  Her head shook from side to side as if to shake off what was happening. My granny stood next to her with her hands on either side of Char’s shoulders.

  “Detective Whitman is in the dining room, Char. Sweets was the one that found him. Why don’t we go sit down in there?”

  Gran nodded agreeably. “Yes Char. Let’s get you sitting down. Come on. I’ll help you out there.”

  Char’s head continued to swivel back and forth on her shoulders. “I – I can’t leave my Vic,” she protested, walked back towards his body.

  I looked back at his spirit, lingering in the corner, looking broken-hearted. “That’s only his body Char. It’s not his spirit.”

  She looked up at me then. I saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “His spirit. Is his spirit here?”

  Mr. Bailey moved towards us then and hovered next to her. “Tell her I’m here,” he begged. His big, bushy eyebrows were knitted together. “Tell her I’m sorry to leave her so soon.”

  I nodded as did Gran. She could see him too. Being able to see ghosts was a hereditary trait that ran in my family’s coven. Not every ghost appeared to each of us. It was kind of up to the ghost. “He says he’s here and he’s sorry to have left you so soon.”

  “Oh, Vic!” she cried. Her shoulders shook as she let loose her sorrow.

  Gran helped Char get to the lobby. I looked at Mr. Bailey’s ghost. “Detective Whitman wants to talk to you,” I said sadly.

  He nodded and followed me. We found Char and Gran seated at a table with Detective Whitman.

  “How did this happen?” Char blubbered through her tears.

  Sweets relayed the story she had just told Detective Whitman to Char and Gran.

  Char’s sobs diminished little by little as she listened to the story. When Sweets was done talking, Char sucked in a deep breath. “He wasn’t feeling well after the party. We got home and started to unpack, but he just couldn’t catch a deep breath. We thought maybe the day had been too much for him, so I suggested he lay down and let me finish the unpacking. He thought he needed to be up and moving around. So he decided to go out for a drive. He mentioned maybe he’d stop into the bakery and help with the cleanup. That wasn’t that long ago!”

  Detective Whitman jotted down those notes. “So, he was experiencing shortness of breath?”

  Char nodded. “And his hands were a little shaky,” she added.

  “Was he experie
ncing any discomfort or pain?”

  Char frowned. “He didn’t tell me he was.”

  I looked over at Mr. Bailey, hovering in the doorway to the kitchen. He shook his head.

  “He says he wasn’t,” I whispered.

  Detective Whitman nodded. “Right, he’s here,” he said looking around the room. “Vic,” he called out. “Vic, join us? Can I ask you a few questions?”

  “Oh Vic! I’d give anything to see you again!” sobbed Char. “I miss you already.”

  Mr. Bailey’s mouth opened, but no words came out, he couldn’t speak.

  The five of us girls all hung our heads. The day had been such an emotional rollercoaster and witnessing Char’s grief made all of our hearts ache even more than they already were.

  “He’s not ready,” I whispered.

  Detective Whitman flipped his notebook closed. “It’s fine. I’ll contact you if I have any questions for him. It sounds like perhaps this may have been a heart attack, but we’ll find out for sure,” he said lightly. He put his hand on Char’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry Char. Vic was a great man.”

  She nodded and patted her hand on top of his. “Thank you, Detective.”

  “I’m going to see how things are going in the kitchen. If you need anything, Char – anything at all…”

  She smiled at him and gave him a little nod.

  He disappeared into the kitchen.

  As Detective Whitman left, Sweets climbed out of the booth the five of us sat in and walked over to the table where she pulled a chair up next to Char. “I’m so sorry Char,” she cried.

  Char nodded. “I’m sorry too, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’m going to do without my Vic. I only wish I could see him again. If I had known that the last time I saw him was going to be the last time I’d ever see him, I would have made sure to tell him how much I love him.”

  “I know how much you love me, sweetheart,” said Mr. Bailey.

  “He knows,” I whispered.

  Char grabbed hold of Sweets’ hand. “I’m going to need you now more than ever, dear. I don’t know how I’ll keep everything afloat.”