“It was a knife,” I answered. “It had a large emerald on it. Silver blade and leather wrapped pommel.” As I described the knife all the color drained from Aunt Sarah’s face.
“Oh, we are in trouble aren’t we?” she breathed.
Mother sat down heavily at the kitchen counter. “The old girl could have kept my bracelet,” she said, and promptly burst into tears. Auntie Joe’s eyes filled, as did my own.
Detective Rosa Garza entered the kitchen. She was holding a small black notebook. She tucked it under one arm so she could remove her rubber gloves. She sat down at the table and pulled a pen out of a breast pocket. “The boys have called the coroner. Is there any family I should be contacting?”
“George is here somewhere,” Mother said. The detective raised a well manicured eyebrow. “Her husband…George Stewart. He saw her body and he wandered off. And the twins. She has twins — a boy and a girl. Someone will have to call the twins.”
Detective Garza called out, “Lewis, get the numbers from the maid. She has kids. James, go search upstairs. The husband might be in the house. Find him.” She turned back to us. “Want to tell me what you were all doing here this morning?”
Mother told the detective about the card game and her missing bracelet. “When I arrived the front door was open, so we just came in. I thought she was sleeping. I was going to get the jump on her so she couldn’t hide my bracelet. I never thought we would find her — that we would find her like that. Leanne called you while my daughter checked Vanessa for a pulse.”
I nodded. “She was ice cold. She must have been dead for hours.”
“We’ll let me figure that one out, okay? And you are sure you touched nothing but the throat of the victim? Not maybe the diamonds in her drawer? Searching for your bracelet?”
“No. I entered the room, knelt down next to Vanessa and check her pulse. She was dead. I stayed crouched next to her until you arrived.” I answered. I sounded mechanical. Shock? Right. I’d already realized I was in shock. I looked around the room and saw a lot of other shocked faces. Only Detective Garza was calm and collected. She must see bodies every day. She was that calm.
“Well, this is what we’re going to do. All of you are going to come downtown and make your statements. Then we’ll start eliminating you one by one.”
That sounded a little scary.
“Eliminating us?” Mother asked.
“As murder suspects,” Garza answered. “Oh, you are all murder suspects as of right now. You might want to call your respective lawyers. But I advise you that it is in your best interests to cooperate. I am bound and determined to find the murderer. That is my job, after all, and I am very good at my job.”
Happy Birthday to me, I thought.
Chapter Three
I needed air. I escaped the kitchen to stand outside on Vanessa’s perfectly manicured lawn. The mail truck was rumbling up. “Rory,” I muttered. I raced down to the curb, threading in between all the cop cars and flashing lights until I reached the beat up mail truck.
Rory stepped down with a package in his hands.
“Rory,” I called, stopping him. My heart fluttered a bit. Mother hated that I talked to the mailman, but Rory and I had gone to grade school together before his father had lost most of his money on risky investments.
“Hi,” he said, his face brightening at the sight of me, even though he looked pretty concerned. My heart fluttered a little harder. “Why are the police at Vanessa’s? Have I done something?”
“No,” I frowned at him. “Why would you think it was you?”
“Most people think I’m bad luck around here. You know, used to be rich, now mailman. It’s everybody’s worst nightmare, Ella. What’s going on?”
I checked to see where everyone was. I touched his arm. It was well muscled and warm. “It’s Vanessa.”
“She’s okay, isn’t she?”
“No, she’s dead.”
Rory dropped the package. Something in it cracked.
“Oh, oh no!” He grabbed the box off the ground as the same scent I’d smelled near Vanessa leaked out through the cardboard. “Vanessa’s the only one who tips me at Christmas. It’s a good tip, too. Dang it. How?”
“I don’t think I can tell you that,” I told him.
“Why?”
“I’m a suspect.” Rory blanched.
I touched his arm again. “That came out wrong. I found the body.”
“No,” he said. “That doesn’t make it any better at all. Do you need a lawyer? My cousin just passed the bar.”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead. Who ordered the package?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you that,” he said frowning, “But I can tip the box up so you can see the label.”
“Will you?”
“Well,” Rory hesitated. “Only if I can come by later and you tell me everything.”
“Everything?” Oh, I just had to know who that box was going to. It might be important. “Yes. Come by tonight for dinner.”
He tilted the package up. It was Vanessa’s husband George’s package. He tilted it back quickly as Detective Garza came out of the house. She waved him forward. Rory’s brown eyes were panicked. As he walked towards her he called over his shoulder, “Happy Birthday, Ella.”
I felt my cheeks grow hot. Rory knew my birthday. That was something.
Aunt Sarah appeared at my elbow. “Who is that?”
“Rory Smith,” I answered.
“He’s a handsome one,” she told me. “I love brown hair, especially when it’s shaggy and curls a bit. Is he your boyfriend?”
“No,” I said, not sure how to describe him. “No, he’s my mailman.”
“Oh, I see,” Aunt Sarah said, as if she really did. “Your mother has called a lawyer. The detective said we could go home and change. They’re going to need your clothes for evidence.” She put her arm around me and we started walking. “That poor woman! Who would do such a thing?”
“According to the police, it’s one of us,” Aunt Hazel said, as she came out of the house with Auntie Joe and Mother.
“Please, my lawyer will clear us in no time,” Mother said waving her hand. We watched as the maid was put gently into the back of a squad car. “I better get a lawyer for Leanne as well.”
“Why?” I asked, surprised.
“You know the rumors about her and George,” she whispered. “Everyone in town has heard about their little tête-à-tête. Poor girl might not have the wits to stay quiet about it.”
George came out of the house next. He was on his cell phone. In a booming voice he said, “Well seems like the old girl is dead. Would you believe someone murdered her? Oh, of course they think it’s me. Yes, call the kids. They’ll want to talk to all of us.” He waved at Mother and gave her a saucy wink.
She shuddered and glared at him. “I bet he did it, the letch,” she whispered.
“I wonder,” I muttered, thinking about that cologne.
We walked back to our house, a somber group. But that was mostly because the detective sent a patrolwoman with us. She was going to take my clothes and bag them for evidence.
I used the time to turn the scene over in my head. It was shocking, really. Vanessa Stewart had been a pretty crazy neighbor, but she was pretty friendly and also one of Mother’s oldest friends. I had played in her house with Max and Maureen when I was a child. I had just seen Max last night. Was he plotting his Mother’s murder by the bathroom? And the cologne was George Stewart’s. It was probably his regular brand if he was having it shipped to him. Maybe Rory could tell me how often packages for George arrived. Could be a coincidence, though. Liking cologne that happened to be at a crime scene in your house wasn’t concrete evidence. The killer might have just been opportunistic.
I changed, and the patrolwoman left with my favorite sweater. I sighed. Luckily I had found the present Father had given me and tossed it onto the bureau. That wasn’t going to be evidence. Mother barreled into the room. “Come on,” she said,
“we’re all going in to give our statements,” and hustled me back downstairs.
The aunts were in a huddle, whispering fiercely. Trouble walked up and sat beside me.
“The knife was Hazel’s,” he remarked. I glanced down at him as he licked a paw.
“Oh,” I breathed. “But how did it get there?”
The cat stretched. “I’m sure I don’t know.”
That was not good. Not good at all. Now the aunts would have a harder time proving they weren’t involved. She got into the middle of the huddle. Aunt Hazel was glaring at everyone. “It’s going to have all three of our fingerprints all over it. Tell them it’s mine.”
“No,” Aunt Sarah growled. “If we do that, they’ll arrest you.”
“If we don’t, they’ll arrest us all. Then who will be left to figure out what happened?” Hazel’s eyes flashed. “I’m oldest, what I say goes. Got it? You two will just have to get your thinking caps on and clear me quickly. Ella will help, won’t you, girl?”
“Me?” I peeped. “I’m not a detective. How can I do anything?”
“Well, for starters, you can gain a bit of confidence,” Hazel told me, poking me with a long finger. “Secondly, you’re clever. You probably noticed all sorts of little things. Just think it through. The girls will help you.”
Mother pulled us apart. “You will do no such thing, Ella Sweeting. The police will handle things. They’ve been trained in this sort of tawdriness. They’ll have George behind bars in no time.”
“We don’t even know that it is the husband,” Auntie Joe said wringing her hands.
“Oh, Aunt Joe, it is always the husband,” Mother said. “Don’t you watch television?”
“I thought it was always the butler,” I remarked and received a withering stare.
“Honestly,” exclaimed Mother. “You’re all worrying yourself over nothing. Hazel will have to get a new, what was it, a letter opener? And I will have to get a new bridge partner. It will sort itself out.” She covered her face. I hugged her. As much as she blustered, Vanessa had been her friend since high school. She gripped me back in a grateful hug before turning away to call for Girard.
I turned it over in my mind. I was never much for mysteries but maybe just maybe I could help. Well, if they needed me to help. Mother was right. They would have this zipped up in no time and then I could get back to my new magical powers. Speaking of magical powers…
“Aunt Hazel,” I asked, “Can’t you do something to help?”
Hazel frowned. “Like what?”
“Can’t the three of you, you know,” I said and mimed waving a wand.
Hazel stared at me blankly. “What, dear?”
I lowered my voice. “Can’t you use your magic to expose the killer? Turn him into a cat or a lizard or something? Compel them to turn themselves in?”
Aunt Sarah shook her head. Her skin had paled. “You know we can’t,” she warned Hazel.
“No, I wasn’t suggesting we do,” Aunt Hazel said, her expression serious.
Frustrated, I crossed my arms. “Why not? What’s the point in having gifts, or magic, or whatever you want to call it, if you’re not going to help people?”
Auntie Joe hugged me. “It doesn’t work that way dear. We can’t use our magic like that. It’s dangerous.”
“What? Why?”
“The only way we could find the killer is to use blood magic, and that does things to you. Bad things. I won’t allow it,” Aunt Hazel said. “Besides, we have our wits. We can do this the old fashioned way.”
“But-?”
“No,” Hazel cut me off. “I won’t hear another word about it. Good magic is not a convenient short cut. Now I suggest we all head over to the police station.”
I subsided, thoughtful. The aunts were all of one mind. Maybe I was indeed asking them to do something dangerous. I just didn’t know enough about magic yet. I just hoped my old-fashioned wits were up to the challenge.
The police station was bustling. I had never been inside one before. Max and Maureen fell on me as soon as we cleared the doors. “Tell us what you saw,” Max said, grabbing at me. “What do you know?” I got hit in the face with the smell of unwashed Max and the cologne from Vanessa’s bedroom.
“Leave her alone, Max,” Maureen said. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. Max just looked the same as ever, but angry. “Sorry, Ella we’re just in shock. Father’s in there with them now.”
“They think he did it,” Max said.
Maureen pushed at him. “Don’t be stupid, Max.”
“I’m not, that’s why I brought our lawyer,” Max retorted. “Plus I have people moving things around for me.”
“No one cares about your indiscretions,” Maureen muttered.
“Well, they certainly care about Father’s,” Max retorted, as Leanne entered with her son.
The maid was weeping openly. A thin woman in a pencil skirt approached her. It looked like Olivia Lane, Mother’s back-up lawyer. She was our lawyer’s junior partner. She was tall and willowy with red hair and somber clothes. She shook hands with Leanne and her son. Olivia pulled them aside and they vanished into an adjoining room.
Mother hugged me. “Max, Maureen, I am so sorry about your mother. She was my best friend. She will be missed.” She sniffed.
Maureen rounded on my mother, eyes flashing. “Some friend you were. Mother told us all about you and our father. You were always jealous of what she has…had. You probably did it, you old cow!”
I pushed Mother behind me, feeling a hot flash of anger. I bit it down. Maureen had just lost her mother and was lashing out, but that didn’t mean she could talk to Mother that way. “Calm down, Maureen. My mother wouldn’t hurt a fly, and you know it.”
“Do I?” Maureen shouted. “Do I? Well, the floor is wide open for you now. My father is free. Going to give him a few condolences kisses?”
Mother burst from me and slapped Maureen. “How dare you, you little harridan!”
Detective Garza jumped in between the two of them, while they stared murderously at one another. “This is a police station, not a circus. Keep your tempers or I’ll let you both wait in the cooler. Miss Sweeting, follow me. Mrs. Sweeting, Miss Stewart, you will both kindly sit down and act like proper adults. The officers know what to do if you do not. Have I made myself clear?”
“Oh yes, of course!” My mother snapped. “Ella don’t say anything until our lawyer gets here.”
The detective led me to a small gray room and a spindly metal chair. I perched on it gingerly, afraid it would drop me to the floor. She sat down across from me. A man walked in and placed two coffees in front of us. I hugged the mug. It was hot and burned my fingers a bit, but I was grateful for the warmth.
“This conversation is going to be recorded. You are aware of your rights. You do not have to say a word to me without your lawyer present.” Detective Garza flipped on a recorder. The door popped open and Mr. Langston entered in a black pinstripe suit and leaned against the wall.
“My client is willing to cooperate,” Mr. Langston said. “Now that I am here.”
“Great, Harle,” Detective Garza said. “Glad you arrived just in time. I wouldn’t want to throw the girl in a cell without your winsome presence.”
“If that’s your attitude, detective, this interview might be over,” Mr. Langston advised.
“Relax,” Detective Garza smiled. “I just want to get her statement.”
I went through the story again and then again. On the fourth time through, I felt like I had been full of facts and Detective Garza had wrung every single one out of my slight frame. Mr. Langston had stayed silent the entire time. “I only really saw her long enough to check her pulse and see that she was dead.”
“And you were with your aunts last night,” Detective Garza asked. “All of them?”
“Yes, all of them,” I answered, trying not to sound like a liar and nervous that thinking that might make me sound like a liar. “Until I went to bed around mi
dnight, we were together.”
She shut off the recorder. “Thank you Miss Sweeting. A few things off the record. What do you think of Vanessa’s family? How did they get along?”
“Fine, I guess…I really don’t know. There are a lot of rumors surrounding the Stewarts, but Vanessa was always loving with her children.”
“With those two?” Detective Garza raised an eyebrow in surprise, as if she wasn’t sure how Vanessa’d managed that. “What about the maid? What do you know about her affair with George Stewart, the victim’s husband?”
“Rumors,” I answered, spine stiffening. “I don’t pay attention to rumors.”
“Oh, I understand, but there are a lot of truths hidden in rumors. Both about the one spreading it and the one it’s being spread about.” She made a note in small neat handwriting. “What about your aunts?”
“I’m not sure I understand the question?”
“Are you close with them? Did any of them have a personal relationship with the victim?”
“I, ah,” – oh, this wasn’t great – “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know who your aunts associate with?”
“Well, I just met them last night,” I answered then snapped my jaw shut. I am an idiot.
“Interesting,” Detective Garza made another tiny note. “Thank you, Miss Sweeting.” She stood up and handed me a card. “Contact me if you remember anything else. I won’t bite, I promise.” She offered a bright, white smile.
“Am I not a suspect, then?”
“Not unless you want to confess. No? Go get your other client, Harle. It’s shaping up to a long day. I want to eat the Chinese food I ordered before midnight, hm?”
And just like that I was back in the waiting room. The cop at the desk smiled and waved me over. “Hi Ella,” she said warmly.
“Hi Ruby,” I grinned. “I haven’t seen you since high school! How are you?”
“Great! Well, I would be if we weren’t investigating a murder. This is the first one in years. It really is a quiet little town, isn’t it? I guess it’s a bit exciting. Shame Max is wrapped up in all of this.”
Scent of a Killer: An Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic Cozy Mystery (Ella Sweeting: Witch Aromatherapist Cozies Book 1) Page 3