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Midnight Spells Murder

Page 7

by Mary Angela


  “Boring, according to their evaluations.” Cunningham picked up the trowel, then set it back down on the picnic table. “I think I have something better than this in my shed.”

  She gave him the most enthusiastic smile she was capable of this early in the morning. He needed a break from his troubles, which meant his papers. A little physical activity and fresh air would do him good. It was the best thing for improving your mood. “Yes, grab your shovel, and we’ll make it a pumpkin party. I could use the help. Besides, I want to talk to you about Marianne. I have some new information.”

  Cunningham returned with a tool, and even with both of them digging, it took over an hour to gut the pumpkin. However, they’d talked as much as they’d scooped, about the necklace, Marianne, and her ex-husband. When they were finished, she had a stack of seeds a foot high and was more than ready for a shower.

  She turned to go inside, excited to don her catsuit costume. “Don’t forget to vote for Happy Camper’s pumpkin. The ballots have to be in before the parade.”

  “I hope you know our friendship won’t influence my decision,” Cunningham proclaimed. “I’ll need to peruse the competition before I cast my vote.”

  She laughed all the way up the stairs, glad he was feeling like his old self again.

  An hour later, Zo and Harley hauled the supersized pumpkin to Happy Camper together. Like all the hip ideas, the design was Harley’s. She’d watched a show on master pumpkin carvers and ordered special stencils and knives for the project. Zo loved the picture, which was a combination of leaves, acorns, and the words Fall in love with your life. She just hoped they could finish in time.

  Spirit Canyon Carving Contest’s rules were very specific. Store owners had to place their pumpkins outside their doors by ten a.m. for inspection, to ensure nobody started carving early. They were given until five p.m. to finish, at which time townspeople had to start voting for their favorite pumpkin. The mayor would announce the results before the Spirit Spooktacular parade, a mix of locals, tourists, and floats traversing Main Street.

  After being given the okay to start, Zo and Harley finagled the pumpkin inside. Several curious customers followed them to see what they were going to do with it. Zo set up a little carving station near the front window so that passersby could see their progress. Dressed appropriately in a Superwoman costume and cape, Harley took up the task. Her chin was set in a way that told Zo she meant business. She was determined like that, especially when it came to a project.

  “Relax, okay?” said Zo. “It’s sort of our store motto.”

  Her winged eyeliner lifted, so Zo understood she was smiling, but she didn’t take her eyes off the pumpkin. After watching her for a few minutes, Zo wasn’t sure she wanted to take turns carving. Harley was that good. She decided to leave the artwork to her.

  The bell chimed, and Zo refocused on her customers. She meandered to the door. It was Officer Merrigan. He was either dressed as a cop for Halloween or here on official police business. She was pretty sure it was the latter.

  He indicated the pumpkin. “That’s a big piece of fruit. You think you’ll finish in time?”

  “I hope so,” said Zo. Harley threw her a glance, and she adjusted her answer. “Yes, we will.”

  Brady Merrigan looked around. “This isn’t a camping store.” He picked up a yellow coffee mug that read Bee Happy, a bee chasing the words. “I always thought it was.”

  “No, it’s a gift shop.”

  “That makes sense,” said Brady. “A book signing probably wouldn’t go over so hot in a camping store.”

  “It depends on the book, I guess,” Zo said.

  “True.” Brady put down the mug. “I need to ask you a few questions about Marianne’s book signing, if you have time.”

  Anyone with eyeballs could see she didn’t have time. At least ten shoppers were in the store, and Harley was busy carving the pumpkin, but she wasn’t going to not talk to him. He was the chief of police. She didn’t want her customers to think she had something to hide. “Of course, as long as you can ask me in between guests. I don’t have any other employees to ring purchases.”

  “Not a problem.” He followed her to the counter, the serious sound of his boots interrupting the quiet hum of Simon & Garfunkel playing on the record player.

  “What can I help you with?” Zo readjusted her cat-ears headband. She couldn’t wait for George to see her costume. He was going to be jealous of her jet-black fur.

  “Just a little town gossip,” he said. “I was talking to Tiffany Snow—do you know her? She sells those holiday wreaths?”

  “Yes, I know her.”

  “She said Julia Parker used to date Marianne’s boyfriend…” Brady checked his notebook. “Roberto. Were they still close?”

  Zo was surprised by the question. “I don’t think they were ever close. Jules never mentioned him to me, and we’re good friends. I didn’t know they dated until the day of the book signing.”

  “That’s interesting,” Brady mused.

  “Why is that interesting?”

  “Because she was keeping it a secret.” Brady paused the conversation, moving aside to let a customer through. Zo rang up her purchase.

  “Love your costume,” the customer said as Zo handed her the bag. Then she gave Brady a smile. “Yours, too.”

  Zo noticed Brady’s face flush as the woman walked out the door. “That lady was hitting on you.”

  He made a noise like a cough. “She was joking.”

  Zo didn’t think so. Brady was a nice-looking man, with dark hair, intelligent eyes, and a broad smile. If he didn’t have an oversized attitude to match, he would be Spirit Canyon’s most eligible middle-aged bachelor. Then again, some women liked attitude—and uniforms.

  “Anyway, a woman like Julia Parker wouldn’t take well to another woman stealing her boyfriend,” argued Brady. “She’s been tough since she was knee-high to a grasshopper.”

  Zo tilted her head to one side. “I don’t know why people say that. I don’t think grasshoppers have knees.”

  “It’s an idiom,” said Brady. “The point is, Julia might have argued with Marianne about Roberto. Maybe that’s how Marianne landed on the street with a knot on her forehead. Julia is strong enough to put it there.”

  “Impossible,” Zo insisted. “First, Roberto wasn’t her boyfriend anymore, and second, I was with her the night of the murder. I can vouch for her whereabouts. Spirits & Spirits was the last stop on the Wine and Waterfalls tour. She was there until close.”

  “Tiffany Snow said she wasn’t at the store when she came in,” Brady refuted.

  “That’s a lie.” A few customers glanced in her direction, and she lowered her voice. “She was there all night.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “All night?”

  “Yes, she—wait.” Zo recalled the evening. “She left for a few minutes to get more wine glasses. A customer was interested in purchasing them for Christmas presents.”

  Brady crossed his arms.

  “Come on,” said Zo. “There’s no way she could have retrieved the boxes and killed Marianne in the ten minutes she was gone. That’s ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous, maybe.” Brady’s eyes narrowed. “Impossible, no.”

  “Is this a new thing you do?” asked Zo. “Accuse my friends of killing people?”

  “It’s called an investigation,” Brady said. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept, being a former journalist.”

  “Then ask yourself why Tiffany is pointing the finger at Jules,” said Zo. “Maybe she’s the one with something to hide.”

  A woman touched Zo’s arm. “I’m voting for your pumpkin, sweetie. I know it’s going to be the best.”

  “Thank you.” Zo smiled. “I appreciate it.”

  “Plus Marianne and Jules are both witches,” continued Brady after the customer left.
“It might have been a turf thing.”

  Brady had no idea what he was talking about. He was thinking about witches that cast spells and flew on brooms. The witches in The Wizard of Oz had turf wars; Marianne and Jules did not.

  “Before you pigeonhole Jules, I think you should talk to Marianne’s daughter,” said Zo. “She said Marianne had an appointment to change her will. Her ex-husband stands to inherit a lot of money.”

  He bristled at the information. “When did you talk to Emily Morgan?”

  “Yesterday,” Zo informed him. “Marianne left her planner at the store, and Emily stopped by to pick it up.”

  “Anything else you’d like to tell me?”

  So many things, she thought, but none she could say out loud.

  “I know you’ve lived here a long time, Zo, and I know you care about the town.” He adjusted his hat. “But you’re not a teenager anymore, making your own rules.”

  What next? Was he going to bring up her old curfew violations?

  “There are proper channels to follow,” said Brady. “Next time you have information on a crime, call me. Can you do that? All evidence regarding a death investigation belongs at the police station.”

  She really hoped there wouldn’t be a next time.

  Chapter Nine

  On her lunch break, Zo scooted down the street to the opera house. It was after two o’clock, and traffic in the store had finally slowed. The pumpkin was nearing completion and looked better than she imagined. Different sized and shaped leaves covered the surface, and the inspirational message was beautifully scripted. She didn’t see how another store could have a pumpkin as festive as Happy Camper’s. The jack-o-lantern at the opera house was neat, with two theater masks on it. But the carving wasn’t as intricate as Harley’s. Zo was hopeful Happy Camper might win.

  The theater lobby was empty, except for the will-call booth, where an employee was selling tickets for tonight’s show. Zo asked about the construction crew as a noise came from the auditorium.

  The employee, a young man with a pockmarked face, pointed in the same direction. “In there.”

  Entering the auditorium, she saw where the noise was coming from. One of the workers on the main floor was attaching a light switch cover. The others were on the balcony, touching up. She went upstairs, figuring the more people she could talk to, the better. One of them might remember her necklace and where they found it.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” said Zo, when she reached the balcony. “Nikki said I could stop by and ask you a couple questions?”

  “Sure. How can we help?” The young woman wore overalls and a backward hat. Two red pigtails peeked out underneath the cap.

  Zo reached for the necklaces, tucked under the neckline of her cat costume. “I was at the theater last night when I saw the match to my necklace. Nikki said it was found during the renovation. I’m wondering if anyone remembers where. It might tell me something about my birth parents. They gave me the other half when I was born.”

  The woman’s hands were streaked with ivory paint, so she leaned close to the necklace but didn’t touch it. “That’s cool. I don’t recognize it though.” She hollered over her shoulder. “Chaska, Sean—have you seen this necklace before?”

  One of the men walked over, shoving a tool in his tool belt. He squinted at the piece of jewelry and shook his head. “Never. Chaska, come look at this.”

  When Chaska didn’t respond, Sean walked over to him and gave him a nudge. Chaska had headphones on and took them off. Zo could hear the music blaring from the earbuds as they dangled around his neck.

  “Sorry, what was that?” asked Chaska.

  “This lady wants to know if you’ve seen a necklace,” said Sean.

  “If I find anything, I bring it to Nikki.” Chaska stood. A long black braid hung down his back. “Where did you lose it?”

  “I didn’t lose anything,” Zo clarified. “I want to know where the match to my necklace was found.” She extended the chains so that he could see both necklaces.

  “Look at that.” He admired the sun and moon combination. “It’s a match. I found it in the dressing room about a month ago.”

  Zo’s breath caught in her throat. “Men’s or women’s?”

  “Women’s,” answered Chaska. His eyes were still on the pendant. “It’s yours?”

  “I think it’s my mother’s,” said Zo. “I never met her. I can only guess she lost it while working here. You didn’t find anything else, did you?”

  Chaska shook his head. “Nothing memorable.”

  “Your mom must have been an actress,” said Sean. “Right, Carrie?” He turned to Zo. “Carrie’s our theater expert.”

  “I’m not an expert,” Carrie clarified. “I majored in it in college, a thousand years ago.”

  Zo had the feeling it was five at most.

  “But if I had to guess, I’d say it belonged to an actress,” said Carrie. “Theater personnel might go into the dressing rooms, but they don’t take things off, like jewelry. Only an actress would do that.”

  The notion made sense to Zo. If her mom had to change for a part, she couldn’t keep the necklace on. It was large enough to attract notice. But Zo was thirty-three, so the necklace had to be at least as old. What was my mom doing in the theater thirty-three years ago?

  My mom. For the first time the words didn’t sound foreign. They were attached to a necklace and place. Her mom seemed like a real person now; she even had a job, actress. A flutter of excitement washed over her. My mom was an actress. That was a cool occupation. Plus, Zo loved the arts, and her mom must have, too.

  She noticed the crew members staring at her and stopped her imagination mid-flight. “You all have been so helpful. I’m on my way to lunch. What can I bring you?”

  “Thanks,” said Chaska. “But we’ve already eaten.”

  “How about dessert?” Zo asked.

  “That’s so nice of you,” said Carrie. “But we’re almost finished. We have one more job site to visit before we’re done for the day.”

  After thanking them again, Zo decided to drop off Happy Camper gift cards on Monday. They’d done something kind for her, and they were restoring the theater back to its original splendor. It was the least she could do as a token of appreciation.

  Pumpkins graced all the downtown storefronts now, and some business owners were passing out ballots and pencils, asking for customers’ votes. Honey Buns’ pumpkin looked like a large cinnamon roll with a bee in the middle. The Chipped Cup, her favorite tea spot, had a beautiful teacup with a noticeable crack painted on their pumpkin. The swirling brown liquid was too much to resist. Zo had to pop in for a mug.

  She ordered black pecan tea, a chicken salad sandwich, and chips. The employee working the counter offered her a ballot, but Zo said she’d already cast her vote. Obviously Happy Camper was getting her support, but if she could vote twice, The Chipped Cup would come in a close second. It was one of Zo’s favorite places to grab lunch or a snack because of its wide variety of loose-leaf teas. While they had a few expensive tea sets, most of the mugs and accessories were moderately priced, and the store was inviting and comfortable.

  Zo chose a seat close to the window to people-watch. Spirit Spooktacular brought out the crowds, and as she paused to relax and re-energize, she enjoyed surveying the costumes. Everyone wore one, adults and children alike. As the evening drew closer, the kids would become more excited. Not only were there parade floats but downtown stores offered candy bars and prizes. A boy walking past the window in a Batman costume already had a hard time holding his mother’s hand. Then again, the mom was carrying several shopping bags.

  The scene brought Zo back to her own childhood, which wasn’t without its good memories. The Jones family, who adopted her as a baby, tried very hard to make a good life for their children. But ten kids proved too many, and she was put into fos
ter care. Many of the homes had been decent. She would have stayed at any of them. It was the moving she hated. She’d think a home was the one only to find out it wasn’t. Maybe that’s why she was so mad when Patrick Merrigan forced her to move out of her first store. It brought up all those old feelings of here-I-go-again. Finding the necklace was the first time in a long time that she had looked back. But this time, it wasn’t painful. It was even kind of nice.

  Her order was called, and she picked up her food and brought it back to the table. The warm smell of pecan tea filled her senses, and she cupped the mug to warm her hands and enjoy the scent. Zo wondered if the theater brought her mother to Spirit Canyon, or if she had been here all along? If she had the other half of the necklace, it meant Zo had been born at the time her mother was an actress at the playhouse. Zo was good at research, but Hattie was better. She’d know where to begin.

  But first Zo needed to see Jules. She wanted to tell her about Brady and his witch hunt. Literal witch hunt. What was it about Spirit Canyon that brought out superstition in people this time of year? The ghosts dangling from the lampposts? She finished the last bite of her sandwich and placed the empty tray near the garbage.

  Ten minutes later, Zo arrived at Spirits & Spirits, where she found Jules and Duncan arguing. Duncan must have won their earlier contest because they were dressed like Bonnie and Clyde, at least that was Zo’s guess. Jules had her long blond hair pinned under, the pink layer invisible, and wore a close-fitting cap. Duncan wore a pinstriped suit and gray fedora. Thankfully, the guns were fake. From the looks of the argument, Jules might have been tempted to use hers. She was just the gal to do it, too. Now that Zo thought about it, Jules would have made an excellent Calamity Jane.

  “A tasting is a taste, not half a glass,” fumed Jules.

  Duncan gave Jules a wicked smile. It was the smile that made most women tremble. “They bought a bottle, didn’t they?”

  Jules was steadfast. Obviously, the look didn’t affect her. “They were going to buy it anyway. Don’t do it again.”

 

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