“How well did you know June?” asked Cassy during a quiet moment between eulogies.
“As well as anyone,” said Tess. “Even among all the nerds and other outcasts, she was an outsider. She was weird. I liked her, but she was really weird.”
“Weird, how?”
“You know, into the occult and magic and stuff. All silly, I thought. I think that sometimes people do things they don’t really believe in just to have something to define themselves. That was June. Looking for who she was. No confidence in herself so she made her own little obsessions. To have something, you know?”
Cassy looked out at the gathered faces. “So she didn’t really have friends. Even among this group?”
Tesla looked around. “I guess you could call her a friend, but really? No one hung out with her.”
“How about…” Cassy started then struggled to recall a name she’d only heard once. “How about Jonno?”
Tesla snapped her head sharply sideways as if Cassy had just struck her across the cheek. “Are you kidding? That guy’s a jerk. Though not as much of a jerk as his girlfriend, Bea.”
“Bea?”
“Yeah. Bea and Jonno; they’re basically the school bullies. Huge clichés, both of them. But you know, it’s like I said; kids just trying things to define themselves. They defined themselves as assholes.”
Tesla had shined a light on exactly what had been bothering Cassy. Neither of the kids she’d seen at the tower were there.”
“These two, Jonno and Bea, did they bully June?”
Patty’s sister scoffed at the question. “Yeah. She was the low hanging fruit.”
A scenario played out in Cassy’s head of what had actually happened that fateful night at the hunting tower. A young girl, ostracized by many of her peers, is approached by her worst tormentors. These two brutes have a compelling power over her. But it’s exactly because of that, that when they offered the hand of friendship to her, she accepted. For June, there could be no better validation than to be accepted by the two school bullies. It would be intoxicating.
But not as intoxicating as what happened later. They lured her out to the tower, or maybe it was her suggestion. The local hangout for the outcasts, the fringe kids, those that didn’t fit in on the sports fields, or the mall, was some old rickety place on the outskirts of the lake. It was dangerous, old and should have been taken down years ago, but it was remote and that was all that they needed.
She took her tormentors there and she showed them her secret. Thinking that they had accepted her, she let them into her world. June showed them her magic. Her latest purchase from this cool new shop called Hocus Pocus. Jonno suppressed a laugh while Bea nudged him in the ribs. This was pure gold and Bea didn’t want it to stop. The nerd was going on about magic potions and homeopathic remedies and all the things that she was in to. The occult, witches, weird stuff that made her interesting, made her who she was. It didn’t have to make sense, it just had to be June.
Then, Jonno takes out his favorite medicine, a bottle of liquor. June’s wary at first but it would be rude to say no to her new friends. She accepts and drinks. It’s her first time and she drinks too much. She gets dizzy. She can’t control herself and she falls.
Occam’s Razor. Among competing hypotheses, the one with fewest assumptions is the most likely. In a bid to be accepted, a girl drinks too much and falls from a high place.
It was so simple as to be undeniable.
Of course, Jonno and Bea couldn’t attend the funeral, but they had their own way of marking June’s death. They had to contaminate the crime scene with more things from Hocus Pocus and lay the blame on that. They weren’t going to have a little burning ceremony at all. It was all down to June, she was the one to blame.
They weren’t the only ones who had decided to blame Hocus Pocus. From the very start, Cassy had been prejudiced against them. They may be phonies, they may be taking advantage of people, but the sisters weren’t killers, they were competition.
But the thallium? The autopsy report said thallium. But had it really? Again, she’d made assumptions and the worst one was that the toxicology report was for June. She’d received no such information. Yes, an autopsy did reveal traces of thallium, but it had been Cassy who had assumed that it was for both recent deaths. What if it had only been Leena? The other report would have found a high level of alcohol.
“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” said Cassy to no one in particular. She wanted to run from the funeral right then and there. She had to stop James from following up on any of her leads. They were wrong.
Despite her best intentions, Cassy felt antsy for the rest of the ceremony. As soon as she could, she took Patty and her sister back home, not that either of them had any desire to stay around.
With Tesla and Patty safely at home, Cassy headed for the station. With one hand on the wheel, she repeatedly tried to call either Noyce or Jones. Neither responded.
What if they’d made arrests? What if they’d acted on her misled suppositions? It might sound presumptuous of her to think that but it wouldn’t have been the first time that she had successfully helped them out with an investigation. Before she got to the station, she saw police vehicles stationed alongside the road. Deputy Polinski was waving cars past with his baton. When Cassy drove up to him, he recognized her and directed her to park.
“What is it?” she asked breathlessly as she fumbled her way out of the car.
Before the deputy could give an answer, Cassy noticed James Jones leaving a house. In all her fluster, Cassy had failed to recognize where she was, even though she’d been there only two days earlier. This was the Donnahue residence. Sitting on the stoop was Willy himself, his hands clutching his head.
Jones noticed Cassy and walked over. “Cassy,” he said. Something about his tone suggested that he’d already worked out that her information had been incorrect.
“I know, I know,” she replied.
“We looked into what you told us but didn’t find anything linking a certain Mrs. Beal to Leena’s death.”
“I know.”
“We arrested her but had to let her go. There was nothing wrong with Hocus Pocus either. It was the simplest thing to test.” He shrugged. “The raid was quite a thing to behold, too.”
“I know. I tested it myself.”
“What’s been going on, Cassy? Are you all right?”
“I’m good. I just got stuck down the wrong track and let my imagination go wild.”
She looked beyond the deputy to the sad looking Mr. Donnahue. “So, why…?” For a moment, she thought that maybe Willy had poisoned his wife. Had one of her theories actually proved to be true?
“It’s a sad story. It would seem that Leena’s death was an avoidable accident. Donnahue had been experimenting in his own private lab with resources from his place of employment. Homework if you will. Somehow his wife became contaminated with one of the substances he was using.”
“Thallium.”
Jones nodded. “We could press charges, but I don’t think anyone wants that. Noyce wants this to remain exactly what it was, a terrible accident.”
Cassy stepped back. All this was because of her and her wrongful accusations. She took a deep breath but somehow it didn’t seem to be enough. Among all the other things that had happened over the last few days, there had been another casualty: her credibility.
“James,” she said. She took his hand. “I know who killed June.”
“And he believed you?” purred Herzog.
“I think so,” said Cassy. She sat next to the sink in her kitchen, cradling a cup of tea. The cat padded at the trickle of water coming from the leaky faucet over the sink. “Well, he did believe me because he questioned Jonno and Bea.”
“And they definitely did it?” asked Herzog who was now licking his paw. “It wasn’t another one of your wild flights of fancy?”
Cassy was tempted to push the cat off the side but restrained herself.
“No, this time
I got it right.”
“Well, you can’t be right all the time, can you? That would be a kind of magic.”
Cassy sipped her tea and wondered just how much damage she’d done to her reputation. It was an odd situation to be in when both Patty and Dot came across as the level-headed ones in the Spicery. Herzog jumped to the floor and padded to the door. He paused and looked back over his shoulder at Cassy.
“You know what this means, Cassy?” he said.
“What’s that, Mr. Cat?” she wondered, waiting for some sly dig at her.
“This means that he trusts you implicitly.”
Cassy took a sip of tea and smiled.
Dear Reader,
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Wendy Meadows
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About the Author
Wendy Meadows is an emerging author of cozy mysteries. She lives in “The Granite State” with her husband, two sons, two cats and lovable Labradoodle.
When she isn’t working on her stories she likes to tend to her flowers, relax with her pets and play video games with her family.
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Also by Wendy Meadows
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Rise & Fall Page 8