“Looking good. It’s weird, but I actually like it,” she commented, almost as surprised by her reaction as I was.
I put on some winged eyeliner, mascara, a smudge of tinted lip balm, and then turned to my closet. I slipped on a long, dark-red maxi dress along with my black boots, a long black knitted cardigan, a necklace with a silver crescent moon on it - made by my mother during her jewelry-making phase - and headed down the stairs to start my day. Luna trailed happily behind me, and I was pleased to see that Lara and Lucy were still in their room, presumably resting. That was perfect, since I wanted to surprise them with breakfast.
Once I reached the kitchen, I already had an idea in mind. I was going to make churro French toast stuffed with hazelnut spread and strawberries with a side of crispy bacon, something I hadn’t made in a long time. Pleased to have my magic back, I pointed my finger at the cookbook and it flipped to the correct recipe page. “Neoroa,” I said to the record player to make it spin, and the pleasant strains of a Fleetwood Mac album began to play.
I hummed and twirled around the kitchen as I took out the ingredients one by one, using my magic to help line everything up on the counter. I cheerfully got to work slicing brioche and dredging the slices in a spiced, cream-laced eggy mix, and moments later heard Lara coming down the stairs. I had hoped to totally surprise her once the food was done, but that was okay. I liked the company.
She came trotting into the kitchen still wearing her pajamas and a big smile. “Mmm, judging by those ingredients you must be in the process of making the most amazing meal ever concocted,” she said, eyeing the hazelnut spread, the cinnamon, and the strawberries hungrily.
“Well, don’t set your expectations that high, but yeah, it should be pretty delicious if I do say so myself,” I giggled.
“You’re too humble,” Lara remarked, leaning against the counter and toying with a wooden spoon. “You’ve got to learn to own your talents, Arti.”
“Takes one to know one,” I said, giving her a wink. She grinned.
“So, how’d you sleep?” she asked, changing the subject as I cooked.
“Great,” I answered honestly. “Turns out, watching my boyfriend’s evil ex get kicked out of town is the world’s best sleep aid.”
Lara burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re so right. That was so satisfying to watch. I mean, what a crazy thing to do. I’ve had some boyfriends I pined over in the past, but none of them would drive me to break into a stranger’s house or put a hex on someone. Yikes.”
“Yeah. I almost feel bad for her,” I admitted. “I mean, yes, she’s awful and I hope to never ever run into her again as long as I live, but Xander is amazing. I can see why she’s still hung up on him.”
“He really makes you happy, doesn’t he?” Lara prodded, this time more genuine than teasing. I gave her a firm nod, unable to keep the wistful smile off my face.
“Yes. He definitely does. I still can’t believe how lucky I am. I mean, June had a point— why would a guy like him ever be with a girl like me?” I wondered aloud.
“Are you insane?” Lara asked, totally deadpan. “I’m serious. Are you secretly an insane person?”
I raised an eyebrow, laughing. “No! At least, I don’t think so.”
“Because you must be crazy not to see what Xander sees in you, Arti. You’re beautiful, you’re clever, you’re funny, you’re kind-hearted, and you’re one crazy good chef. What’s not to love?” Lara said, grinning. I felt my face burn.
“You’re going to make me cry,” I murmured with a smile. “Anyway, breakfast is ready!”
“Heck yes,” Lara said, rubbing her hands together excitedly.
We sat down at the dinner table to eat, and I even gave the cats two tiny little pieces of bacon to nibble on so they wouldn’t feel left out. As we ate the delicious breakfast, Lara looked thoughtful.
“You know what’s weird?” she began.
“What?” I asked.
“How we were so wrong in our suspicions,” she said. “I mean, think about it. We totally thought our intruder was some big burly bad guy, or that it was someone out to murder you as retaliation for investigating the poisoning case. But it was totally the opposite of what we imagined: just some bratty, jealous woman. So weird.”
“You’re right. We were barking up the wrong tree entirely. I guess we just played right into stereotypes and never expected the culprit to be a pretty, elegant woman,” I agreed, nodding. Then it hit me. If we were so wrong about the intruder, maybe it was the same bias that was keeping me from cracking the poisoning case.
Suddenly, I stood up, my heart racing. “Oh my moon, Lara, I just realized something: this whole time Xander and I have been looking at the men involved in the Klein case. After we ruled out Karrie we just switched right back to Jordan. But there’s someone else we’ve totally ignored. Someone who’s probably been running circles around us the whole time right under our noses,” I breathed. “Florence!”
Lara frowned. “The wife? But wasn’t she poisoned, too?”
I nodded. “Yeah, but only a little bit. She totally could have ingested just enough of the poison to cover her bases and make herself look like a victim.”
“Oh! You think she would do that?” Lara prompted.
“There’s only one way to find out,” I said. “I’m going to visit her at the hospital and interview her.”
“Really? Right now?” Lara asked as I rushed to head out the door. I nodded, feeling exhilarated and sure of myself.
“Yes! I can’t wait anymore,” I said. “I’m doing this now!”
I ran out the door, hopping onto my broom, and speeding off toward the hospital. I tried to give Xander a call to fill him in, but he didn’t answer. I left him a message informing him of my intentions and shrugged it off, deciding that I could probably handle Florence Klein on my own. It didn’t take me long to reach the hospital, as the weather was bright and sunny and there was little traffic on the streets. I leaned my broom against a tree and marched into the building. I was so confident that the nurse let me through, stating that Florence was doing much better and was ready for visitors.
Perfect, I thought to myself. I was going to solve this once and for all.
I rounded the corner and walked right into the hospital room where Florence was sitting on her cot, flipping idly through the pages of a magazine. It took her a few moments to acknowledge me, and when she noticed me standing there, she frowned.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Artemis Mani,” I said. “I’m working your husband’s case alongside Chief Forsetti. I was here with him the other day. I’m here because I have some questions I think you may be able to answer for me.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but leaned back and nodded. “That’s right, I remember you now. Go right ahead. I have nothing to hide,” Florence said.
I smiled. “You work in a plant nursery, right?”
She nodded. “I used to.”
“So then it’s logical to assume you would have a working knowledge of various flora in the region? Say, magical mushrooms, for example?” I asked pointedly.
Her face went blotchy, and I knew I was getting somewhere. She nodded stiffly. “Yes, maybe. But I fail to see what you’re getting at,” Florence snapped.
“Well, let me lay it out for you, then,” I said, taking a step forward. “On the morning of your husband’s death, Karrie brought you two pastries. You had just enough time alone to inject mushroom poison into the cinnamon buns, knowing those were the ones Arnold would reach for first. You put a lot of poison in his - enough to kill him. And in the other, you injected just enough to make yourself sick after a couple small bites. So, that’s how you did it, and how you worked to move suspicion away from you. What I’m still piecing together is why you did it, but I think I’m getting there. I went to that warehouse. I saw that fine white dust. I know what happened to cause a rift between you and Jordan. He was helping you out on the down-low, but he got tired of it. He di
dn’t want to be a part of the drug trade anymore, did he?”
Florence was silent, a nerve twitching in her jaw. I went on.
“Right. So your furniture store was just a front for the real business: import and export of drugs. That’s where the money is. And you were the mastermind behind it all. You used Jordan until he couldn’t handle it anymore, and when he wanted out, you caused a big stink about it. You tried to implicate him in your husband’s murder, both to save your own butt and as retribution for dropping out of the drug trade. As for your husband, I kept wondering on my way over here what your motive would be for killing him. You seemed like a happy couple, according to most reports. But I get it now: it’s greed. Pure greed. Arnold wasn’t as gung-ho about the smuggling and the illicit activities, was he?” I asked.
Florence’s face was bright red. She knew she’d been cornered. Finally, she spilled. “He was weak. My husband couldn’t handle it. I wanted more, but he was complacent. He was in the way. I did what I had to do to be a successful woman in this world,” she growled.
“You killed him so you could have it all,” I accused.
She shrugged callously. “He should have been stronger. He should have been all in, like I was. But he was soft. And I’ll be darned if I let anyone hold me back,” Florence hissed. She started to slowly rise out of the cot, and at first I thought she was just standing up to turn herself in until quick as a fox she pointed her finger at me just as I gasped and fell back.
Florence was advancing on me, keeping her finger pointed at me and her eyes flashing with rage. “Don’t move! If you try a spell, I’ll curse you into oblivion, you meddling little witch,” she hissed. I held my hands up in surrender, my heart pounding. How could I have been so slow? So useless? I had come this far, only to have the tables turned on me at the last second.
A devious smile spread across her face as she realized she had me right where she wanted me. She opened her mouth and lifted her finger slowly, poised to shout an offensive spell, but just before she could say the words, the door burst open with a loud bang. The next few seconds were a blur of movement and noise as Xander, dressed in his uniform, burst into the room and jumped in front of me, shouting, “Preservoa!”
The spell that spilled from Florence’s mouth came hurtling toward us, but bounced right back toward her before she could get a second to react. She went flying backward into the wall, dizzy and breathless, as though someone had roundhouse-kicked the air out of her lungs. Xander rushed over to put her in handcuffs as she sat there defeated, then strode across the room to me, a serious expression on his face.
“You are insane! Don’t do this to me again,” he murmured fervently, pulling me into his arms and kissing me passionately.
Chapter 20
Brunch.
I had kind of a vexed relationship with brunch. There was always a kind of fine line between the two kinds of food you could serve for it, and every guest at the B&B had different ideas of what a good brunch was supposed to consist of. Well, except for mimosas. Everyone could agree on that. But that was probably the least impressive part of any brunch spread, from the point of view of a hostess who was trying to impress her guests.
But thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about that right now. This time, I was the one enjoying the fruits of someone else’s culinary labors. Specifically, Elisa’s labors at the Magic Bean, and Xander was sitting across from me as we sat in a cozy corner of the cafe on one of the first days off he’d had in weeks.
“Don’t tell Morgan, but I actually love mimosas,” Xander said with a smile on his face, as if sharing a secret in confidence with me. He winked and took a sip of the frosty glass in his hand, and I giggled.
It was kind of nice to be past the point of pretending we weren’t dating, and it was an even nicer surprise that Xander was slowly but surely developing a pretty good taste in date ideas. We had a quiet evening at the Manor together last night after promising each other to give ourselves a mental break from all the chaos of the latest murder case, which was exactly what I needed. And now, we were at a leisurely brunch, which was also exactly what I needed. Everyone needed brunch in their lives, let’s be honest.
“My lips are sealed,” I promised him. “Besides, between the two of you, she always struck me as more the type to drink nothing but straight whiskey.”
“You’d be right,” he said, chuckling. “The way to Morgan’s heart is through a stiff glass of bourbon. Don’t even think about mixers, or ice, for that matter. Wait, if Morgan is the whiskey sibling, which one was I, in your imagination?”
“Definitely the beer brother,” I said, grinning, and he chuckled. “You seem like the kind of guy who likes small-batch craft beer, like a good Washington resident.”
“You’re not wrong,” he confessed, holding his hands up. “I’ve got a sweet tooth for brunches, but I’m a sucker for dark beers in the evening. Porters and stouts are hard to beat after a long night on patrol. What about you? You don’t strike me as a beer kind of person.”
“I like my sweet reds,” I admitted. “But just about any kind of wine is something I’ll knock out in a heartbeat. My wine bills are a little crazy, but at least I can write them off as a business expense. Serving my guests beer is a little less classy.”
We laughed as Elisa showed up at our table with our food. The Magic Bean wasn’t primarily the kind of place that did full meals, but Elisa had insisted on letting us try a new quiche recipe Bella was testing out. So when Elisa swept over to our table, she was using her finger to levitate two plates of quiche slices so thick and fluffy that my mouth watered.
“Here we are,” Elisa chimed, setting the plates before us. “Two spinach and feta quiche slices, and I’m proud to say the two of you will be the first to sample the recipe.”
“I am in heaven,” I said bluntly as I looked down at the meal. The hot feta and spinach and egg was steaming, and it looked like it was just the perfect ratio of each ingredient. The crust was firm but not too crumbly or moist, the consistency looked perfect, and the aroma was just unbelievable. I didn’t want to say it out loud yet, but I had a feeling I’d have some competition in the form of Bella in a few years.”
“And also, as a little thank you for making sure the Magic Bean kept its good name,” Elisa added with a devilish wink, “I have a little something extra.” She flicked her finger to reveal the third plate she’d been hiding behind her back, which levitated around to the table and set itself down between the two plates. It was the thickest, most delectable looking cinnamon bun I’d ever seen in my life. The top was practically oozing with cinnamon filling, the dough looked perfectly soft the way I liked it, and the frosting dripping down the sides was so decadent I felt like it wasn’t appropriate to be showing it off in public.
“Honestly?” Xander said when he got a look at the masterpiece, “I think I’d eat that even if you told me up front it was loaded with arsenic.”
I had to agree.
“This is unbelievable, Elisa,” I said, beaming at her. “Tell Bella she’s knocking it out of the park. I’m a little jealous.”
“She’ll appreciate that,” Elisa said with a wink. “I’ll leave you two alone now. Enjoy!”
We started digging into the food, and it tasted twice as good as it looked, which was saying a lot.
“Okay, so, now that we’re officially into brunch,” Xander said, “let’s recap.”
“Okay, I’m ready,” I said, nodding as I swallowed a mouthful of quiche.
“We found Jordan,” he started, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Morgan and I caught him heading out the south road out of town. That was why I didn’t answer my phone when you called, I was in the middle of helping Morgan make the arrest. He pointed me to Florence, and I got your voicemail a minute later, and might have had a minor heart attack.”
I blushed.
“But as it turns out,” he said after another quick drink from his mimosa, which was almost gone by now, “Jordan was mostly innocent.”
“Mostly? He ran from a murder investigation,” I said.
“Yeah, but get this,” he said, smiling. “Jordan knew about the drugs. He told us that was why he backed out of his business partnership with Arnold. Florence and Arnold were pushing that angle, and Jordan wanted nothing to do with it, so he cut his losses and beat it. That was also why Florence was so eager to throw him under the bus with that phony letter she forged that was supposedly from Jordan. Arnold was probably in on it the whole time, and then it was just a matter of showing it to Karrie and letting the rumor spread on its own.”
“Not a bad plan,” I said, nodding.
“Jordan was afraid we’d arrest him for his involvement with the drugs, even though he backed out before getting his hands dirty, so to speak,” Xander went on. “Especially with possible murder charges thrown in the mix. He’s a nervous guy, he just panicked.”
“Do you believe him?” I asked.
“We’re still checking his story, but I have a feeling he’s telling the truth,” Xander said. “Morgan and I convinced him to take a deal. He spills any and all secrets the Kleins were holding, and in exchange, we won’t hit him with charges for aiding and abetting the drug operation. Which is a pretty good deal, and if this were anywhere but Moonlight Cove, I don’t think he’d get the chance.”
“Sounds like it,” I admitted.
“And that’s that,” he said, nodding. “Florence has a mountain of charges she’ll never be able to crawl out from under, and all the loose ends from the case are tied up. And I think I’d like to extend the official thanks of the police department, on a more personal note,” he added with a wink.
Beat Around the Broom Page 15