The Rhinestone Witches Omnibus: Books 1-3

by Addison Creek

  And so we waited.

  For some reason I thought a law office would be a quiet place, but shortly after we sat down I heard the front door open and heavy footsteps mount the stairs. I stared at my hands in an effort to act uninterested. Snooping must be done with some sense of decorum, after all.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a heavy figure alight on the landing. The next instant I realized who it was. As if a jolt of spell casting had shot through me, I nearly squealed. Lowe felt me move and glanced up.

  Unfortunately, Lowe was not as prepared as I was for putting on a poker face. Her mouth literally dropped open.

  She looked down again immediately, but it was too late. The heavy figure had seen her staring.

  Up close he looked menacing. His face was huge, each feature, from his lips to his nose, looking as if it were twice the size of a normal person’s.

  Not like that was saying anything all that unusual for Twinkleford.

  The man nodded to the secretary, who pointed to a door in the back of the room. The thuggish-looking fellow I had last seen with Quinn’s ex-wife, Cynthia Merchant, strolled past us with a package tucked under his arm.

  My heart was racing. I had at least managed to see who it was without actually looking up. Lowe glanced at me and then back down at her hands, shifting nervously in her seat. The room was quiet except for the clacking of the keys. The secretary was not the least bit interested in speaking with us or giving anything away about the running of the place. Strain as I might, I was unable to hear anything over her typing.

  We waited another ten minutes before the brute came out and hurried back out and down the stairs. I couldn’t help noticing that the parcel he’d been carrying was gone.

  A couple of minutes later, the same back door opened to reveal Fox Fairview looming large, with a bright window behind him. “Jade! Lowe! Welcome! Please come in.”

  We shot out of our seats like owls streaking through the sky. I hurried forward with Lowe right behind me. Mr. Fairview stepped aside to let us in.

  My first impression of the room was that the contents cost more than everything in my dad’s house combined. Since my dad was quite well off, that was staying something.

  The space dripped with money. There were gold, silver, and jeweled lampshades, frames, and even an ashtray all over the place. I had a feeling that if I turned the lamp on, the cord would be made of gold silk . . . or something even rarer and more valuable.

  I coughed into my hand and waited for Mr. Fairview to come back around his desk, which was entirely clear of any kind of clutter whatsoever. Especially, no papers.

  The package that had been delivered by Cynthia Merchant’s thuggish acquaintance was sitting in a corner of the room. It carried no visible label, and badly as I might want to see where it was from, I didn’t want this lawyer to catch me straining to see it.

  We sat on red leather chairs as he made his way around his cherry desk. How could a lawyer work without papers, I wondered?

  “Thank you for coming. This is of course a pressing matter of the utmost importance, and I’m thankful you came to speak with me about it,” he said. “I’m sure you have a lot to do.”

  I was about to tell him that we really didn’t, but then I bit my tongue. We were busy young women! I was a new witch, we had a farm to take care of. We had friends. We were plenty busy.

  “It’s an inconvenience, but we’re doing our best to accommodate you,” I said graciously.

  For a split second Lowe registered surprise at my uppity tone, then she smiled.

  “Yes, taking care of the unicorns takes up most of our time,” said Lowe.

  “Of course. Of course. Truly magnificent creatures,” said Mr. Fairview. “My grandfather loved the unicorns and I think passed that love down through the family. Very happy that they’re still in such good family hands. Do you have any idea how much their produce costs these days?” He whistled softly. I could only imagine what he meant by produce, but I thought it was funny that he was comparing it to vegetables.

  I schooled myself to keep a straight face. His question was obviously a rhetorical one, so I didn’t bother to answer it. Instead I asked coolly, “What exactly is it we can help you with?” Hopefully I could keep channeling Hannah’s hoity toity manner for a few minutes longer.

  Mr. Fairview leaned forward in an intimidating lawyer pose. To be fair, he was good at it. I was a bit intimidated.

  “As I said earlier, I represent the trolley company’s interest in the murder matter. I was hoping for assurances concerning your full cooperation,” he said.

  “What are we cooperating on?” I asked.

  “That you won’t blame the company. That you won’t publicly connect the company to the murder. She was a new employee, you see. She had only been with the company for a week, and she had only actually driven a trolley for one day. Her death couldn’t possibly have anything to do with Twinkleford Trolley. To have their name linked publicly to the victim would be devastating.”

  “Isn’t it going to be reported that she worked for the company?” I asked. Was this not common knowledge? I knew it, but did anyone else?

  “We’re working on that. No, I don’t think at the moment that it will be reported publicly,” he said.

  “On account of the company not having anything whatsoever to do with her murder,” I offered.

  He beamed at me.

  “I see that we understand each other. I knew we would. The Rhinestone intelligence is known far and wide,” he said.

  If I had looked at Lowe right then I would have spontaneously combusted. Instead I smiled at the man and said, “So glad we understand each other.”

  He gave one sharp nod. “Now, I do hope it’s all right if I reserve the right to come by the farm again if need be. I’m sure it won’t be necessary, but there’s a small possibility that we will have other loose ends to tie up for the case.” He smiled, and I felt overwhelmed with sliminess. If you had told me that he was the Carlyles’ personal lawyer, I wouldn’t have been surprised at all.

  “Of course. Come by any time,” I offered.

  “One last question.” He held up his hand as I was about to leverage myself out of his expensive chair. “When will your grandmother be back?” he asked.

  I smiled at him. “Do you need her to discuss the case?”

  His smile stayed in place, but something shifted behind his eyes. “You never know. I just wanted to be thorough.”

  “Of course. I’m not entirely certain when she’s returning. Could be any day now,” I said.

  “Grandmothers will do as they please,” he smiled.

  “Exactly,” I said. “We should be going. Please let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”

  “I certainly will,” he said, standing up as well and walking us out.

  The distinct smell of cinnamon hit my nostrils as we reached the door. I glanced around for the source and saw a bar cart right against the wall with a steaming mug of . . . something . . . sitting on it. We had interrupted Fairview’s afternoon tea, and he hadn’t offered us any. He had no plans for us to be sticking around. At least on that we could all agree.

  “Oh, one more thing,” he said, stopping with his hand on the door. “If you hear anything else, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t share it with anyone.”

  “I’m new here. I don’t really know anyone,” I said. He was a lawyer, so he might recognize that as a non-answer, but he also thought I was stupid.

  “Excellent,” he smiled.

  I win.

  Though I was getting pretty tired of that smile.

  “All set?” Mr. Fairview asked his secretary as we emerged into the waiting room. No one else had arrived, so it was just the four of us. I was fighting the overwhelming urge to run out of there and down the stairs as fast as I could.

  “Certainly, sir. Your usual three p.m. appointment should be arriving shortly,” she said.

  “Ah, very good! Very good!” he said, and then turned
to me.

  Unwilling to waste a second I said, “Thank you so much for your time! We really appreciate your meeting with us. Have an excellent rest of your afternoon.” I turned to scurry away.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said. “Please remember what I said about any future information.”

  “We’ll remember,” Lowe assured him. “Cheerio.”

  As we rushed away, Lowe gave an awkward smile in the direction of the well-heeled secretary. The secretary missed it, because she still wasn’t looking at us.

  I waited until we were back in the bustling street to whisper to Lowe. “You know what it means that he told us to keep future information to ourselves, but didn’t ask us to pass it on to him, don’t you?”

  She dodged out of the way of a clown juggling bread and said, “What?”

  “He thinks he’ll already have heard it from someone else,” I muttered.

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Lowe.

  “Right you are,” I agreed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As we left the lawyer’s office, I saw something interesting. A speckled owl was perched on the gate. He cocked his head at us.

  “Is that one of Michael’s?” I asked. Michael was an acquaintance of ours who raised owls and sold their feathers for potions. He was reclusive and brilliant and he lacked the healthy dose of fear that many of the other Twinkleford folks nurtured.

  The owl nodded his head. “Looks like we have somewhere else to go,” sighed Lowe. “At least we know what we’re getting at Michael’s.”

  I didn’t think that was entirely true, since we had to go through the Bleak Area to get to Michael’s falling down house.

  “Let’s go see him now, then we can meet Jackie and Kelly at Robin’s,” I said. With Bethel gone I didn’t want to bother cooking, and besides, after the murder I wanted to be in the thick of things. At the restaurant we might hear some of the rumors that were surely circulating around Twinkleford. Jackie and Kelly would also be waiting for an update.

  What Michael Fieldcorn wanted I couldn’t fathom, but there was no sense in keeping him waiting. We headed toward his place and discussed Mr. Fairview on the way.

  “I did NOT like him,” said Lowe fervently. “He was so full of himself. He thinks we’re idiots.”

  “I had the same impression,” I agreed. “What do you think he really wants? He acts awfully interested in the unicorns.”

  “I noticed that too, but it’s hard to tell, since everyone is interested in the unicorns, so maybe he has the same casual interest as everyone else. Anyhow, I don’t see how the unicorns could have anything to do with the trolley company.”

  “That’s true,” I agreed. Still, there was an angle to this lawyer that I hadn’t been able to put my finger on just yet.

  We walked quietly after that, and I fell into a thought train about all the things we didn’t know. What did the sheriffs find at the crime scene that they weren’t telling us about? Did this woman have family? What did the trolley company have to do with it? What about the trailer park residents? Who was at the party? That last question was the worst. There had been a lot of townsfolk at the party that I didn’t know. Had any of them struck me as a murderer? No, of course not. But if it were that easy to figure out who a murderer was in a town like Twinkleford, whatever happened to my mom would have been clear a long time ago.

  I thought back to the flash of light I’d seen the night before, and the puff of smoke that had come up around the body. I knew what undertones that carried, and I didn’t like it. Those were both magical avenues that needed exploring. But first, we were being asked to speak with Michael.

  “We’re here,” said Lowe darkly.

  The Bleak Area was the creepiest part of the town. Close, dark streets filled with trash and dark corners greeted us as we walked through it. Once we made it through that section unscathed, we had to pass the cemetery. I had forgotten that the last time I’d been there a woman had been visiting a grave. She had been older, and beautiful. I had never found out anything about her.

  Now the cemetery was empty. I was relieved that the skeletons stayed in the ground when we came through. I worried that if we ever had to come at night, we wouldn’t be so lucky.

  We hurried through the cemetery, past the scraggly, low-hanging trees. The owl that had greeted us outside Mr. Fairview’s office landed on a branch and hooted gently. I looked around, snapping to attention so suddenly that the muscles in my neck protested. Was the owl calling out to us, or to someone else?

  We kept moving around a bend in the road until we could no longer see the cemetery, and then I felt a bit better. Lowe was rushing along beside me, more comfortable with the Bleak Area than I was but not by much.

  Soon we came upon a familiar-looking man stumbling down the hill in front of us, tall and thin and dressed in black. His arms were filled with gear, from a map to a telescope to several other contraptions I couldn’t identify.

  He looked at us over his armful of equipment. “Afternoon. Yes, Jade and Lowe. How are you?” he asked.

  “We’re fine,” I said.

  “Need help with that?” Lowe asked him.

  He frowned at her. “Help with what?”

  She pointed to all the stuff he was trying to carry.

  He lost his grip on a glittering ball and it went tumbling out of his arms and nearly hit the ground. When Lowe reached out to grab it, Michael yelped.

  “You obviously have a lot going on. Are you sure you want to talk with us right now?” I asked him.

  Michael bobbed his head. “Yes, it’s imperative that I speak with you two. That’s why I sent Phoenix to get you.” The owl was still up in one of the trees, watching us. “He’s the least witch-shy and doesn’t mind going out during the day. Come with me.”

  We followed Michael back to his house, which was also his shop. The place didn’t look any different from when I’d been there before.

  “I hear you’re seeing the sheriff,” he said as we went inside.

  I stared at him in shock. “Excuse me?”

  He pulled in on himself a little. “Just because I’m an owl-feather-dealing recluse doesn’t mean I don’t like a bit of town gossip,” he said defensively.

  “Who did you hear that from?” I demanded.

  “Oh, word gets around,” he said, moving around the shop, greeting some of the owls, feeding others, and generally going about the tasks of coming home while Lowe and I stood by the door. After his question about Quinn and me, I was debating making a break for it. I didn’t want to be the subject of town gossip and I didn’t want to visit pompous lawyers. Why didn’t I just stay home and spellcast?

  “Yes, we’re dating,” I said.

  “Ah, the famous half-mermaid and the famous Rhinestone that nobody knew about.” Michael sounded dreamy when he said it.

  “My view of who you are as a warlock is shifting, and I’m not sure I’m happy about it,” Lowe told him honestly.

  “Anyhow, what news did you have for us?” I asked him.

  “Ah, yes. That. Are you still snooping into the black market for pearls?” Michael asked.

  The black market in pearls had come up a couple of times since I had arrived in Twinkleford. There had been at least two murders because of pearls, and I was sure they were connected to the Vixens somehow. Pearls could be used in a lot of potions, and they came in a different grades. The highest grades were circulating on the black market, coming from an unknown source.

  “Kind of,” I said carefully. Quinn would be furious if he knew.

  “Some of my feather shipments have been going missing,” said Michael. “Just two at this point, but it’s significant.”

  Chills went down my spine. “How do you know?”

  Michael scoffed. “I do a very high level business.”

  “Meaning what?” Lowe asked. “You know, in case I ever want to order something from you.”

  “Why would you do that when you could just come here?” Michael was bewilder
ed.

  “The walk is so pleasant,” I muttered.

  “Let’s start over,” said Michael patiently. “The shipments were stolen. I know because I have methods of tracking them, and because my clients were unhappy. Naturally they had never had any of their orders from me arrive late before. Secondly, I use very powerful potions on my shipments. When they fall into the wrong hands, they self-destruct. My shipments have stopped falling into the wrong hands, I assume because the thieves realized that it was not to their benefit to steal them.”

  “Because they couldn’t use the stuff before it self-destructed?” I asked, marveling at just how brilliant Michael might be. I supposed he’d been at this business a long time, and his father before him.

  “Were you able to track the packages?” I asked him.

  His face clouded. “Yes, but only to a borough, not more precisely than that. That’s where it gets tricky, and that’s why I wanted to speak with you. When I heard there had been a murder at your farmhouse, I thought the Rhinestones had been attacked. Then I wondered what finally made Bethel snap.”

  “We’ve all been wondering about that,” I told him. My heart was racing. “Which borough?”

  Michael sighed. “Yours.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  We stayed at Michael’s for such a long time that I ended up calling Jackie and Kelly and inviting them over. We’d have more privacy than at Robin’s anyway. Jackie and Kelly agreed to come to the farmhouse, and we parted ways with Michael. I was still shocked by the information he had shared.

  “Someone in our borough?” I muttered.

  “It must be the trailer park. There’s only that and our place and Lisa and Lucky’s,” said Lowe as we hurried through the cemetery. I looked for the woman I had seen there before, but there was no sign of her. I didn’t even know why I expected to see her again, but she had intrigued me, and her image had stuck in my mind.

  “More signs are pointing to the trailer park, but I don’t like it,” I told her.

  I wanted Quinn’s ex-wife, Cynthia, to be a Vixen. In my mind she already was one. But given how well she thought of herself and the fact that she worked for the university, she certainly did not live in the trailer park, and I was grateful for that. Having Quinn walk past her every time he came to see me would have driven me to distraction.