Witch School Dropout: A Witch Squad Cozy Mystery #7

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Witch School Dropout: A Witch Squad Cozy Mystery #7 Page 24

by M. Z. Andrews


  Detective Whitman nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’ve got my guys looking into it. I just thought you might like to know. Anything new on your end? Has Vic come up with any new leads?”

  Alba shook her head. “He hasn’t.”

  Detective Whitman looked at us curiously. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

  “We have some leads about the spell that might have been used, and maybe who made the potion, but we have no concrete evidence yet,” I said. It was disappointing to know that we were going to bury Mr. Bailey and not know who killed him. If only we’d been able to have a longer conversation with Gran the night before. We might have gotten some more answers.

  Detective Whitman looked interested. “We’ll talk after the services.”

  My mother and brother showed up then. Mom and Detective Whitman locked eyes for just a second longer than what was a casual glance.

  “Hello Linda,” he said, looking nervous.

  “Hi Mark,” she said giving him a quick hug.

  Detective Whitman opened his mouth as if he had something else to say to her, but then he just as quickly snapped it shut. The funeral wasn’t the place to be chatting up my mother, and he knew it. “I’m going to go find a seat. I’ll talk to you later.”

  We all gave him an uncomfortable grin as he walked off. Then Mom looked at the group of us. “Well, should we take our seats, too?”

  With somber, reverent faces, we nodded. We were as ready as we were ever going to be. I peered out into the church. Beautiful bouquets of flowers filled all the empty spaces. Mr. Bailey’s open casket was at the front of the church, and as people filtered in, they passed by his casket. A morbid tradition, in my opinion. Maybe that was my opinion because I had no reason to say goodbye to the body. I could say goodbye to his ghost, which in my opinion was much more lifelike than the empty shell he’d left behind. Others only had the shell.

  Sweets, Jax, and my mom joined the procession to view the body once more, but I just couldn’t do it. Neither could Holly, Alba, or Reign. The four of us took a seat behind the rows designated for the immediate family, and within a few minutes, Jax, Sweets, and Mom joined us.

  As we sat waiting for the services to begin, we watched members of the community say their goodbyes to Mr. Bailey. Greg Adams, the mayor of Aspen Falls, walked past him reverently. Mrs. Baylor, the gift shop owner, said a tearful goodbye and then moved on quickly with another shop owner we’d met during our day of interrogation with local business owners. At one point, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Eli Turner seated in one of the back rows with his wife by his side. After finding out that the murderer had been after Char, not Mr. Bailey, that had all but ruled out Eli Turner as the culprit. In my mind, anyway. Knowing that he was innocent, I was happy to see that he had been able to put aside his grudge against Mr. Bailey long enough to pay his respects to his competitor.

  Louis Albertson was also seated a few rows behind us. His mother sat next to him. She was a nervous woman with the same gaunt bone structure as her son. She blotted a tissue against her high cheekbones as she quietly cried next to her son. Louis had his head bowed, and for just a moment, he looked truly upset about the loss of Mr. Bailey.

  The sound of a woman sobbing at the front of the church pulled my attention away from gawking at Louis. Sally Wentworth’s shoulders shook as she stared down at Mr. Bailey’s casket. “Oh Vic!” she cried, holding the hand of her daughter, whom she was leaning on for support.

  I had to hold my breath to keep from crying as well. What was it about seeing other people crying that made me want to cry?

  Wedged in the seat next to me, Sweets dabbed at her eyes. Her shoulders shook as she cried, jiggling the sides of my arms. I reached out and took her hand in mine and squeezed it. She squeezed back and then lowered her head onto my shoulder. Poor girl. Mr. Bailey had been like a second father to her. My heart ached for her.

  While Sally sobbed, her daughter Suzanne led her to a seat, and an usher led Gran, Char, and Regis in and sat them in the front row. A minister took his place at the front of the church, and the services began. The officiant had all kinds of nice things to say about Mr. Bailey, and then he opened it up to anyone who wanted to speak. So many people said nice things. People remembered the first time they’d ever been to Mr. Bailey’s and how he’d given them their first fill-in-the-blank. One man said how much his quality of life had improved since he started buying the sorghum arthritis relief bread from Mr. Bailey. Everyone that spoke told of his big personality and even bigger smile. Sweets got up and described how Mr. Bailey had taken a chance on her and how her life was never going to be the same after having met him.

  Surprisingly, Eli Turner even got up to the podium. He cleared his throat and ran a hand across the flat surface in front of him. “Vic was a decent man,” he croaked. “I wasn’t always the best to him, and after hearing what everyone has to say about him, I see now that I should have been a better man. There’s been room in the town for both of us all along, but I was too stubborn and wrapped up in competition to see it. Vic. I’m sorry old man. Rest in peace.”

  He left the podium and walked back towards the crowd. He paused next to Mr. Bailey’s casket and looked down at him for a few seconds. I wondered if he was having a moment. Then he turned and returned to the front of the church. He looked out over the crowd and held up his thick index finger. “And don’t forget the Rise and Shine Bakery for all of your bakery needs. Open every morning at six a.m.”

  The rest of the service went off without a hitch and by the time it was over, there wasn’t a dry eye in the church.

  While everyone else went to the grave site to bury Mr. Bailey, Sweets asked us to help her get the food ready at Habernackle’s for the reception.

  We covered the bar with Sweets’ famous potato salad, pasta salad, fried chicken, and trays of homemade lasagna. The stars of the show, though, were the impressive assortments of desserts Sweets had managed to produce. From cobblers to crepes, the tables were piled high with desserts in honor of Mr. Bailey’s well-renowned sweet tooth.

  Gran and Char, with Regis at her feet, were the first back to the restaurant, but others flooded in soon after.

  Char covered her mouth when she saw the food. “Oh, Sweets! You outdid yourself!” she gushed. “Vic would have been so happy to see what you’ve done here.”

  Sweets’ eyes dropped to Mr. Bailey and immediately her eyes welled up with tears. Mr. Bailey’s head bobbed up and down, careful not to let Char or Gran see the tiny movement. “Thank you, Char. It’s the least I could do for such a great man.”

  Char and Mr. Bailey disappeared as people began flooding the room. She had rounds to make with all the people who had come to pay their respects to her and her late husband. Louis Albertson and his mother were one of the first pairs to come through the door. I eyed them suspiciously as they moved around the room, refusing to speak to anyone and looking like a pair of gothics in mourning. They made a beeline for the food and Louis lifted his nose to the amazing spread that Sweets had done without his help.

  “There’s Louis,” I whispered to the girls. “Keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near Char. I don’t want him trying to hurt her.”

  Gran looked at Louis. “You think he’s the one that killed Vic?”

  I glanced up at her. “Can you keep a secret?” I regretted saying that the second it was out of my mouth. Of course, my grandmother could keep a secret. It’s all she’d done my entire life. But the words were already out.

  “Oh honey, you do know me, right? I’m the queen of secret keeping!”

  I frowned at her. “Of course you are.”

  “The murderer wasn’t after Mr. Bailey,” said Alba. “He was after Char.”

  “Char?! Why in the world would anyone want to kill Char?” she practically crowed.

  I squeezed her arm. “Shhh,” I hissed. “Can you keep your voice down?”

  Alba shook her head. “Louis never liked Char. He tried to frame Sweets for Mr. Ba
iley’s death by putting the potion in her apron pocket.”

  “What a little weasel!” breathed Gran.

  “Yeah, so that makes sense. He kills Char, gets Sweets out of the way by framing her for the murder, and has Mr. Bailey all to himself. We think he hired Augusta Stone to make the potion for him. We just don’t have all the facts we need to put the whole thing together,” I explained.

  Gran shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this yesterday?”

  “Uh!” I grunted. “Gran! I tried to, and you stormed out!”

  She looked at me curiously. “Did I?”

  “Yes!”

  She shrugged. “Well, blame your big brother for that. The boy can’t leave me alone. He’s like a one woman nagging machine.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t talk about Reign like that. He’s been through a lot, and it’s all because you made my mom give him away at birth. Don’t you have any regrets about that?”

  “Well, of course, I have some regrets,” she snapped. “I mostly regret that I didn’t catch your mother’s relationship with Scarface sooner!”

  I buried my face in my hands. “Uh, Gran!”

  “Hey, who is that?” she asked and pointed across the room at Sally Westminster. “The woman sobbed through the whole service. I could barely hear a single word anyone said. All I could hear was her across the aisle sniffling.”

  Jax spoke for me. “That’s Sally Westminster.”

  “What’s her deal?”

  Jax shrugged. “I guess her and Vic were very close friends.”

  Char came up behind us. “Who was close friends with Vic?”

  Gran pointed to Sally. “That blonde woman that bawled through the service.”

  Char gave a strained smile, and in a hushed voice, she said,” I think the woman had a crush on my Vic. Of course, Vic would never admit such a thing, and maybe he never realized it, but he did so many nice things for her after her husband died that I’m sure the woman had feelings for him. I’ve run into her before, and she’s never been very warm to me, only to Vic. I can see the look in her eyes when she looks at him. A wife knows these things.”

  We all watched Sally wipe the tears from her face with her handkerchief as her daughter stood by uncomfortably.

  “Poor thing,” cooed Char. “She and Vic were so close. I can’t begrudge the woman for thinking my Vic was something special. He was something special.” Tears filled Char’s eyes. She pulled a fresh tissue from her pocket and sponged at her eyes.

  Hordes of people began to pour in. Char squeezed Sweets’ arms. “Okay, I must go mingle. Girls thank you for helping Sweets.” She gave Sweets a short bear hug. “Sweets thank you for everything you’ve done. You have no idea how much easier you made this on me. The spread looks amazing.” Char left, leaving Gran behind with us.

  The group of us made small talk until a woman in a black dress and a black veil approached Sally Westminster. “Who’s that woman?” I asked the group.

  Gran peered at her closely. “My goodness. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that was…” she trailed off.

  “You’d think that was who Gran?” I asked, looking at the woman curiously.

  “Oh, no one,” she said, waving a hand.

  “Gran. Why can’t you just answer a question with a straight answer for once?”

  “I just don’t know that that’s who I think it is. It can’t be!”

  The woman and Sally whispered together in a corner. When she moved, Gran caught a better view of her, and she sucked in her breath. “Oh, my! It is!”

  “It is who?” we demanded.

  “It’s Auggie Stone!”

  “Augusta Stone?” asked Alba.

  Gran’s bewildered expression quickly faded, morphing into a frown. “The one and only. I never thought I’d see that woman’s face again. I should have known she was back. I should have felt her presence!”

  “What do you mean you should have known?”

  “Because many moons ago, I made the mistake of calling that witch my best friend. Not only was she my best friend, but she was also my roommate at the Paranormal Institute for Witches!”

  Jax’s eyes widened as she linked her arm in mine. “Our grannies were roommates and best friends, too, Mercy!”

  “I have a feeling that didn’t work out very good for them, Jax,” I mumbled with lowered brows.

  Gran nodded. “My granddaughter is correct. It didn’t work out well at all. Auggie Stone was a vile witch. Her signature spell was the one in that book you had last night.”

  “What did she use the potion for?” asked Jax innocently.

  “She used the potion to manipulate people’s hearts.”

  I shook my head. I was trying to piece everything together. “I don’t get it, Gran. You said that that spell could cause horrible consequences if it’s done incorrectly. How can a love spell cause disastrous consequences?”

  “Because that particular spell uses pit viper venom. It’s a very strong spell, but it’s also very temperamental. You know how the cardinal rule of thumb for potion making is never to use substitutions?” she asked looking around at us.

  We all looked at each other uncomfortably. Did she know something? I tugged at the hemline of my dress. “Umm, yeah?”

  “That spell is very temperamental in the way that if administered to the wrong person it could cause serious health problems, up to and including death.” Her forehead crinkled as she explained the possible side effects to us.

  “So that potion could have potentially killed Mr. Bailey?”

  Gran nodded. “Absolutely, it could have. I’ve seen it done before.”

  Holly shook her head as if to clear out the cobwebs. “I don’t understand. It was a love spell intended for Char to drink, but Mr. Bailey drank it instead. Why would Augusta Stone have any interest in feeding Char a love spell?”

  Gran snorted. “Well for starters, I wouldn’t put anything past the woman. She’s evil. She’s an evil, evil witch. And next, it’s not a love spell like you’re thinking of it. It was a love disbursement spell. It busted up romantic feelings. Made people fall out of love. Not in love.”

  Our jaws dropped. Someone had been trying to break them up and instead, Mr. Bailey drank the potion, and it killed him. We all looked across the room. Sally Westminster and Augusta Stone were quietly chatting in a corner.

  Holly was the first to speak. “And Augusta is over there talking to Sally Westminster. Someone that Char thinks had a major crush on Mr. Bailey. That’s more than a little suspicious.”

  “Yeah, it is,” I agreed with a nod. The puzzle was starting to come together.

  “Let’s talk this out,” said Alba rubbing her forehead. “So, Sally is jealous of Char’s relationship with Mr. Bailey. She decides to break them up and uses Augusta Stone to make her the potion. Char is the one who was supposed to drink it so she would fall out of love with Mr. Bailey. But Mr. Bailey drinks it instead, and it kills him.”

  Gran let out a breath of air. “It makes sense, but there’s going to be absolutely no way to prove it.”

  I fumed. Here all this time I’d thought it had to be Louis. “Well, what about Louis putting the potion into Sweets’ apron?”

  Holly frowned. “I know what I saw. I saw Louis putting the potion into Sweets’ pocket.”

  Alba glanced across the room at Sally again. “Sally had to put the vial of potion somewhere when she was done with it. So she probably put it in Louis’ apron. Louis found it and put it in Sweets’ apron. He was going to let her take the rap for Mr. Bailey’s death,” said Alba.

  “Wow,” said Sweets, shaking her head sadly. “Sally really seemed to like Mr. Bailey. If she is the one that did it, she’s got to be beside herself.”

  Sweets’ statement made it more real to me. Every time we’d seen the woman she was ridiculously upset. Now it made sense. She was upset because her plan had backfired and in her attempt to break up Char and Mr. Bailey, she’d accidentally killed him!

 
; Jax frowned. “I just can’t believe my grandmother would do something like that!”

  Gran snorted. “Believe it, short stuff. Your gran is capable of so much more than that. She takes wicked witch to a whole new level.”

  Jax looked like she was about to cry, so I took a deep breath. “Alright. We can talk about Augusta Stone’s shortcomings another time. It sounds like there’s a heck of a lot more to that story and we’re getting answers, Gran. Today. But first, we need to see if there’s any truth to all of this.”

  “But how?” asked Holly.

  “We’re going to get Sally Westminster to confess. And I think I have the perfect way! As soon as Detective Whitman gets here, I think we can make this work.”

  35

  “Hey Sally,” I said casually, putting a piece of cake on my plate.

  Tinged with red lines and deep, hollowed-out circles, Sally Westminster’s eyes looked over the tiny helping of food on her plate as if she were in a daydream. “Oh, hi. Mercy, right?”

  I nodded. “Sweets sure did a good job with the food, didn’t she?”

  Sally pulled a tissue from the sleeve of her black jacket and made a swipe beneath her nose. “Yes, it’s lovely. Vic would have loved it.”

  “Yes. I know he would have. In fact, I’ve felt his spirit here all day. I think he’s keeping a careful watch on all of us.”

  Sally’s watery eyes opened wider while verging on tears. I could only imagine the anguish the woman felt after accidentally killing the man that she loved. But that didn’t mean I could stop. We needed to know for sure. “You do?” she asked. Her voice was jittery and weak, like a woman on edge.

  My head bobbed up and down. “Yes. I’m a medium, you know. Mr. Bailey’s spirit had been around for a few days, and then he just disappeared. Maybe he’s come back. I don’t know why he would though. Maybe there’s something unresolved he needs to deal with.”

 

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