Witch of Mintwood Mysteries 7-9
Page 34
“Because you thought I had something to do with Isabel’s death?” André’s tone said that was crazy.
“Maybe,” Charlie agreed.
“I most certainly did not. What were you hoping to find here, anyway?” he asked.
“We weren’t sure, but maybe something linking you to a disagreement with Isabel,” I said.
“There’s plenty of that. We had a whole e-mail chain arguing about art, I mean discussing, I mean not art so much as the price of art. She wanted some of the stuff I had in the collection here. I was prepared to sell it to her, but not for the price she wanted.”
“She wanted it cheap?” I said.
“She basically thought I should give it to her for free. She was on the board at the library and said she brought a lot of tourism to Mintwood. Her house was good for the town and all that. In the past she had also picked up a few pieces from me. Why she thought all that stuff entitled her to free art I couldn’t figure out then and I can’t figure out now. It was mine to sell or not, which is what I told her.”
“Was she very angry?” asked Greer.
“She wasn’t happy about it, but she got over it pretty quickly. She said there were a lot of places to get art. I knew some of that was just saving face. My collection is rare.”
“Where is your collection from?” I asked.
“I inherited most of it. My uncle was a well respected collector in Europe. When he passed away he didn’t want to leave any of it to his children, because he knew that they wouldn’t appreciate it, so he left it all to me. Unfortunately, I haven’t exactly felt like Mintwood is an art mecca where the paintings could be displayed and appreciated properly. Maybe in the summer when people of taste are around, but otherwise, not so much.”
Charlie’s mouth fell open slightly, while Greer blinked. I tried to remain calm, because surely André didn’t know what he was saying. At least I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt that he didn’t.
But a sort of frantic feeling bubbled up inside me. I had been so sure that André had had something to do with Isabel’s death, but now, actually speaking to him, I felt like I’d been on an entirely wrong track.
Andre was as dull and as preoccupied with art as ever.
“Sorry for breaking into your storage locker. You might want to consider opening it up to the public, though. I’m sure people would appreciate it. You could really give the locals some more credit.”
André appeared to think about that. He looked taken aback.
“Maybe I will. Truth be told, I’m so busy all the time with the gallery that I haven’t really had time. I do try to come regularly to check on the place, though. It’s important to me.” He sighed and looked around. “Shall I show you out?”
As we left and André locked up, Charlie said, “Do you have any idea who might have killed Isabel?”
André was quiet for so long, I thought he maybe hadn’t heard the question.
“I’m not going to pretend that the three of you will listen to me when I tell you to be careful, but I’m going to tell you to be careful anyhow. The police can handle this. But I’ve heard about your reputation for looking into cases, and your persistence in the face of advice to the contrary, so let me say this. Isabel was well liked around town, but it was superficial. She thought this was a quaint little place to bring her family, and then was perfectly happy to leave once the leaves started to turn. That’s all well and good, but for residents who stick it out year round, a little appreciation would be nice. Her family was also a piece of work. I don’t think anyone minded having Isabel around, but her children were nightmares. They wanted organic this and couture that. We had all kinds of local fruits and vegetables, but nothing couture ends up in Mintwood.”
I knew what he meant. There was a certain down-home quality about year-round life in Mintwood that you just couldn’t find anywhere else. You also couldn’t find a lot of creature comforts here.
“So, you think it was one of her own family?” said Charlie.
“There was enough drama. I remember her having a shouting match with one of her daughters. I don’t know which one, but I do remember being shocked at how they were speaking to each other.”
“Thanks for your advice,” I said, “and sorry about the snooping. You’ve been very helpful.”
With that, André locked up his facility and led us back to the road.
“Where did you park?” he asked, looking around.
I pointed to the tree concealing the Beetle and André laughed. “I wouldn’t have seen that in a million years. You’re sure you’re not working on Keith’s behalf, are you?”
“Definitely not,” said Charlie.
We said our goodnights and went back to the farmhouse. Paws, who had remained silent after his first outburst, looked lost in thought all the way home and even after he hopped out of the Beetle.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” I asked the cat as we strolled toward the house.
“I don’t want to go to Paris,” was all he said. He trotted up the porch steps and hopped onto his crate, curled into a ball, and buried his nose in his elbow. I left him to his meditations.
Charlie, Greer, and I straggled into the farmhouse. My arms and legs ached. I had been up a lot longer than I’d planned, and I was very tired.
“You’d think I’d get used to our late night jaunts,” I sighed.
“Do you think he did it?” Charlie asked as she walked toward the kitchen.
Greer was already on the stairs and she threw up her hands. “We have no proof. All we have is one family member’s speculation. It is no more proof than if I said I think it was Detective Cutter.”
“Do you?” Charlie asked hopefully.
Greer made a frustrated noise.
“We can keep looking into it in the morning. Obviously, we need to start doing some things differently,” I said.
“Yeah, like actually investigating,” Greer agreed. “We were lucky André didn’t call the police.”
We all said goodnight, none of us in a very chipper frame of mind. I went to my room and pulled the covers over my head, but I couldn’t sleep. It was very strange, because usually I had no problem falling asleep when I was this tired. But something was nagging at me and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
In the middle of the night I sat up with a gasp. This wasn’t terribly unusual; I often woke up in the wee hours of the morning, although it was not as common when I’d gone to bed in the wee hours as well. But this time I was popped out of a deep sleep by the sudden realization of what it had been about our encounter with André that wasn’t quite right.
In the morning, the smell of breakfast drew me downstairs. For a few foolish minutes I tried to fend off the inevitable by pulling the comforter over my head, but once I smelled bacon the conclusion was inevitable.
As sunshine poured into my room, I remembered how grateful I was to be living with Greer. Bacon wafted to my nostrils and I nearly floated down the stairs.
Greer was standing in the kitchen in her old, long blue bathrobe, her slippers poking out beneath the hem.
“Aren’t you hot?” I asked. It was high summer, after all.
She shrugged. “Not really. I’ll go change into shorts and a T-shirt later.”
I slumped into a seat in the breakfast nook as Greer continued puttering at the stove.
“Coffee’s on,” she said.
“Charlie?” I asked.
“Ran out of here like her pants were on fire,” said Greer. “For once I wasn’t the one who lit them, so no idea. She yelled something after me but that was incoherent as well.”
I shook my head and tried not to laugh. When Charlie was on a case nothing else mattered, including communicating with her roommates.
“What do you think we should do today?” Greer asked.
“André did say one interesting thing,” I said, munching on a slice of toast.
“That Isabel was on the library board?” said Greer.
> “Right,” I said.
“We could go to the library and see if there’s any information on her there. Right after we get our second cups of coffee from the Daily Brew,” said my friend.
Before anything else, I had to check on Cesar. Given how long he’d been stuck with me taking care of him, I decided to give him an outing for once, and take him to the Daily Brew. On top of being great company, dogs were great advertising tools. Most people in town knew I pet sat, but a lot of summer residents had no idea. They would see a cute dog and ask me about him, which would give me a chance to tell them that he wasn’t mine, I was just taking care of him, and I’d be happy to take care of their pets as well.
When I put Cesar on the leash and headed to the Beetle, he bounded into the back seat as though we did this every day. He was only too happy to be out and about after a lot of lonely days at home while his owner was away.
“Good thing Paws is asleep during the day,” said Greer dryly as Cesar settled in comfortably.
We got to the café without incident, stood in line for our coffee, and found a table in the front corner. I had barely blinked before there was a line of people looking to pet Cesar. The dog, who was by turns shy and tail-waggingly friendly, submitted happily to the attention.
Greer and I had a lovely interlude sipping freshly brewed coffee and talking while Cesar greeted his many admirers.
Then we headed for the library. But despite spending the entire afternoon doing research, we left town empty-handed.
We dropped Cesar off at his house, and headed home.
“That was a waste,” said Greer in disgust.
I silently agreed with her.
Chapter Nineteen
When we got back to the farmhouse there was a card stuck in the mailbox. Frowning, I pulled it out. When I saw that it was a note from Jasper, my frown disappeared and my heart started to flutter. We had been dating quietly now for long enough so that you’d think I’d have stopped that nonsense, but I was starting to wonder if I ever would.
Jasper just did that to me.
On the present occasion he was inviting all of us over for dinner at his cottage that night. Deacon would be coming too. Hansen Gregory and Hansen’s friend Penny were also invited, as was Liam.
When I told Greer what was in the note, she snorted.
“This oughta be good,” she said.
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen Liam, given that he’s been on vacation,” I said. “It’ll be nice.”
“True, but Charlie might take Penny out into the middle of the lake and come back alone, if you know what I mean,” said Greer.
“Yeah, I think I get your meaning,” I said dryly, trying not to laugh. Greer wasn’t very good at speaking gangster.
When we told Charlie about the invitation a little later, she was very excited to hear that we were going to Jasper’s.
She was excited, that is, until she heard that Penny and Hansen would be there as well.
“Why would he invite them?” she grumbled.
“Oh, you know, maybe because everyone likes hanging out with Hansen, including you?” said Greer, who was busy applying a thick shade of eyeliner.
“He’s all right,” Charlie conceded. “I guess we could talk about the case.”
“Where did you run off to this morning?” I asked.
“Skip had come into the office and Lena was talking to him,” said Charlie. “I wanted to be there.”
“Did he say anything interesting?” I asked.
“He just remembered that all of the Isabel’s daughters were in town the day Isabel died,” said Charlie.
“That’s ominous,” said Greer. “For them, at least.”
“If I had kids I certainly might want to be killed off if I actually had to spend time with the brutes,” said Paws from his window perch.
“Don’t be silly,” I said.
“Isabel said as much. She thought her own family was a disaster,” Charlie pointed out.
“True,” I said.
“Maybe tonight we could take a break from work,” said Greer.
“I have too many mysteries to take a break from them,” I said, thinking of Josephine and Meredith Munn and the rest of the witches. I wondered what they did for fun. Josephine would be cool to have at a bonfire, but Meredith would be a sourpuss.
We all wore sundresses to Jasper’s place that evening. I put on some scrappy sandals while Charlie wore boat shoes and Greer sneakers. I brought a cardigan to guard against the cold.
“Am I coming?” Paws asked as we headed out.
“ONE! TWO! THREE! MARCH!” Tank bellowed.
A haphazard group of mice and birds all started to move at once and inevitably collided with each other. Paws looked ashamed, while I went over to speak to the farmhouse guard.
“Everything here is in order,” Tank assured me. “We should have no problems.”
“Excellent,” I said. “Good to hear.”
“Quite,” he agreed. “FOUR! FIVE! SIX! MARCH!”
They were on the move again. Tank didn’t even glance back at me.
“What large animal eats rabbits?” Paws asked once we were in the Beetle.
“Probably foxes,” said Greer.
“There are more lynx around here lately too,” Charlie added
“They eat a lot of something else as well,” said Greer, giving Paws a wolfish grin.
“Never mind then,” muttered the cat, looking disgruntled.
“He’s keeping an eye on the farmhouse. It’s a good thing,” I assured my feline companion.
“A good thing is a bowl of cat treats,” he corrected me.
“What are you going to do while we have fun?” Greer asked him.
“Continue working on my detective skills, I expect,” said Paws.
“You mean snoop?” I asked him.
Paws didn’t deign to answer.
“We’re here,” said Charlie, betraying her nervousness by stating the obvious.
Sure enough, there were already a couple of vehicles in the driveway. I recognized Deacon’s truck and Hansen’s car. Liam had said he’d be a bit late because he had to close the shop before he could get out to Jasper’s place.
“Are you sure we brought enough food?” Greer asked.
“There’s no need for you to feel pressure because you’re the best baker in the county,” Charlie assured her.
“We just brought the two kinds of pie, the cookies, and a large salad,” said Greer, worrying.
“So that’s only enough for me then,” said Deacon, coming out of Jasper’s cottage with a big grin on his face.
Greer gave her boyfriend a kiss and a shove.
“Everyone’s out by the bonfire,” Deacon said.
“Is everyone else here already?” Charlie asked, sounding nervous.
“Everyone except Liam,” Deacon agreed.
“It’s going to be so much fun,” said Charlie.
“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” I asked, meriting the dirty look I got.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Charlie said.
“You never know what I’m talking about when you don’t want to talk about something,” I said.
“Hi there,” said Hansen. He strolled up to us looking very casual, his cheeks a little flushed as if he’d been getting some sun.
Over by the fire was Penny, talking and laughing with none other than Jasper. My hackles rose instantly, all the more because I had decided that she and Hansen weren’t dating.
Now I wished I had decided they were.
“Hey,” said Charlie. “How’s the case?”
“Good. My life is good as well,” said Hansen.
“Well, that’s nice,” said Charlie, looking confused.
“What makes you say that?” he asked.
Charlie was flushing bright red and staring at Penny. I knew her well enough to know that she had almost said Hansen’s life was good because of Penny. She’d stopped herself in time,
but it was still an awkward situation.
“Coming through! Make way for the food! If I have to devour it on the way over that’s just the price of doing business,” said Deacon, saving the day.
He gave me a wink as he walked past. “You’re not the only one who sees things, Carrot.”
“I have no idea what happened, but my face feels very hot,” said Charlie.
“It’s a complete mystery,” said Greer.
“Hi again,” said Penny when we got to the fire. She was wearing a billowing dress that swirled around her legs in the breeze. Jasper was standing next to her, chatting happily. For another instant I found myself feeling jealous, then I realized that he was looking at me and not at Penny, smiling in that way I loved to see, the way that felt like he only smiled for me.
Right then and there I resolved never to look at him when he was looking at somebody else. This time, I just grinned back.
“Glad you could come on short notice,” he said.
“Never miss a chance for a bonfire,” said Greer.
“Thanks for bringing food,” said Jasper.
“How’s the case going?” Penny asked Charlie, giving my friend a bright smile.
Charlie looked ridiculously like a deer in headlights. By now even Jasper had started to notice how Charlie felt about Hansen, who, after all, had made it pretty clear for a long time how he felt about Charlie.
Well, kind of. He hadn’t written it in the sky in twenty-foot tall letters, which is what Charlie would have found clear, and even then she might have insisted that it was for a different Charlie.
I had a lot of sympathy for Hansen.
“The case is confusing,” said Charlie, looking more relaxed now that she was talking about work. “We keep running into dead ends. I don’t think we’re any closer to discovering what happened to Isabel than we were the day we found her.”
“I might have found something,” said Hansen. “But we can talk about it tomorrow,” he added firmly when Charlie started to look excited.
Hansen was apparently determined to have a night free of work, and I agreed with him. But a simple glance at the sky reminded me to wonder where Scarlett was, so I had to face the fact that even with the best intentions, I might not be able to put work out of my mind for the evening.