Murder by the Cup

by Abigail Thornton

She sighed at the sight. It definitely didn’t go with the rest of the decor and it would be much appreciated when they solved the crime and took it down.

  Shaking her head, Wynona walked away from the sight, only to pause when her eyes flitted to the bookcases. She smiled. The mouse. She hadn’t fed him this morning. Walking quickly back to the kitchen, she grabbed a few strawberries out of her lunchbox, placed them on a tea saucer and brought it out.

  “I’ve got something a little healthier for you today,” she said in a cajoling tone. She’d seen yesterday her guest was skittish, and though that was natural for a small rodent, Wynona had a strong desire to befriend the little creature. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Granny had had an animal familiar and this was the closest someone without magic was going to get, or maybe it was because the messed up hex had left the animal an outcast, but whatever the case, Wynona just knew she wanted to be friends with it.

  She squatted down and set the plate on the ground, the same place she had left the crust and crackers. Now she just had to wait.

  It didn’t take long.

  The smell of fresh berries proved to be enough to pull the purple mouse from its hiding place within only a few seconds. That black nose emerged, twitching incessantly, quickly followed by a purple face with pink eyes and a soft, fluffy, purple body.

  The mouse looked up and squeaked at Wynona a few times, as if in thanks, before stepping up and starting to nibble on the sweet breakfast.

  “You’re very well mannered for a mouse,” Wynona whispered with a smile. “And you’re welcome.” She let herself watch for a few minutes before rising to her feet.. “I’ll come get the plate when you’re done,” she said before heading back to the kitchen.

  Once there, she unloaded the teas she was carrying with her, organizing her kitchen exactly how she wanted it to be. The silence of the space became a little claustrophobic, allowing Wynona’s mind to wander to the dead body, which was all too fresh in her mind. Grabbing her phone, she turned on some soothing music and allowed it to cast the dark aura from the shop.

  “A little incense wouldn’t hurt either,” she murmured. Dusting her hands on her skinny jeans, she walked to a cupboard and pulled out her sage and a plate. Ten minutes later, she felt much better and the sweet smell of herbs permeated the kitchen, feeling much more like home than it had earlier.

  Once done, Wynona went back to organizing her tea blends, only to jump when the kitchen door opened with a bang. Her heart nearly leapt out of her throat and her hand fluttered as if it could stop it. “Who’s there?” she asked, then winced internally. Letting an intruder know she was there was probably the last thing she should have done.

  A shuffling sound came from the doorway and Wynona forced herself to walk out of the pantry to see who was there. She blinked several times when she spotted her visitor. “Hello,” she said, a shaky smile on her lips. “Can I help you?”

  The brownie glared up at her from under his large fedora, his long ears pointing straight out to the sides from the pressure of the hat. The red feather sticking out of the top of the chapeau should have looked quite dapper, but the wrinkled, scowling face ruined the effect. “Don’t know why they sent me to a witch,” he muttered, shaking his head. His beady black eyes dropped from hers and he peeled a dirty overcoat off an equally dusty button-up shirt. Bright red suspenders matched his feather and held up pants that had probably once been black, but were now more of a stale brown.

  Wynona quickly glanced at her floor, and she was shocked to find it still clean. The small hobgoblin carried so much dirt, she was sure he left a trail anywhere he went. She tilted her head, keeping her smile in place. “Who sent you?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”

  The brownie huffed and held up his coat. It floated into the air and rose high enough to attach itself to a small rack near the back door.

  Wynona watched with wide eyes. That unwanted jealousy rose within her breast once more, but she pushed it back. It wasn’t fair to be jealous of this man for being who he was. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “But I still don’t know who you are.”

  “Lusgu Roich,” the brownie grunted. He began walking around the kitchen, peering under tables and cabinet edges, grumbling under his breath with each step.

  Large toes poked out from under his pants, caked with just as much dirt as hair, and Wynona caught herself staring before she put her manners back into place. She knew what a brownie was, of course, but they were fairly elusive creatures and she had yet to see one in person, only pictures. Why there was one inspecting her kitchen, she had no idea. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Roich,” she said, following behind him to make sure he didn’t touch anything he shouldn’t. “But I still don’t know why you’re here.”

  If possible, his scowl grew even deeper. Not looking at Wynona, Lusgu stopped when he spotted some crumbs on the floor, reached his hand to the side and snapped his fingers.

  Wynona was staring again. What did he want? Was he expecting her to hand him something? She didn’t have anything to offer. Glancing around, she squeaked and ducked to the side when a broom came careening across the room. She stepped to the left just before it would have hit her, and it landed directly against his palm.

  Instantly the brownie began sweeping the crumbs together. “Don’t know how to keep things clean,” he muttered. “No wonder you need help.” He huffed. “Witches.”

  Wynona let out an exasperated huff of her own. “I’m sorry, Mr. Roich, but could you please—” Her words were cut off when there was a loud pounding coming from the front of the shop. “What now?” she muttered, turning to walk toward the sitting room. She glanced warily over her shoulder, but Mr. Roich seemed too caught up in catching every speck of dirt than her leaving. “I’ll be right back,” she said before ducking out the door.

  The door rattled with another round of pounding and Wynona sped up her walk. The heeled boots she was wearing didn’t allow for much running, but she adored how they looked with her jeans. She grabbed the door and quickly pulled it open. “Hello, Chief Ligurio,” she said with a stiff smile. “How are you today?”

  The vampire glared at her with dark red eyes. He must have fed recently for them to be so bright. “We need to talk,” he said, pushing his way into the room.

  “Oh, uh, come on in,” Wynona said, opening the door wide. She did her best to keep smiling and nodded at each of the three officers who followed the chief inside. When Deputy Chief Strongclaw winked at her again, Wynona felt a flush creep up her neck. Her smile became a little easier after he walked past.

  “Sorry about this,” Officer Nightshade whispered with a grimace as she ended the line of officers.

  “Officer Nightshade,” Wynona said, her smiling widening. “How good to see you again.”

  The female vampire gave a small smile, but it fell when Chief Ligurio cleared his throat.

  Flashes from outside caught Wynona’s attention and she turned to see nothing but lights obscuring her vision. “Ms. Le Doux!” a voice shouted, seemingly out of midair. “What does your family think about your predicament?”

  Wynona stepped back quickly, nearly stumbling to get away from the doorway.

  “Ms. Le Doux! A statement, please!”

  A warm presence came up behind her and a large arm reached over Wynona to slam the door shut. “Ghost reporters,” Deputy Chief Strongclaw growled.

  Wynona looked over her shoulder, still feeling slightly shell-shocked. The last thing she needed was bad press before she’d even opened, especially with her family. “Thank you,” she whispered sincerely.

  Those golden eyes twinkled with good humor. “Any time,” he said.

  Wynona realized she was still leaning against his chest and she immediately straightened. Good heavens, she was losing her head. Between Roderick and Deputy Chief Strongclaw, or Rascal, she was in way over her head. Good thing she had a business to focus on. Straightening her shirt to give herself time to pull herself together, she walked over to approach
the Chief. “What can I do for you today, Chief Ligurio?”

  “I want to hear more about this alibi of yours,” he snapped, pulling out a notebook. “You said you were home...alone?” He glanced up from the papers and raised an imperious eyebrow.

  Wynona nodded, folding her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking. “Yes.”

  “No neighbors or anyone to corroborate your story?”

  Wynona shook her head. “No. Although someone might have seen me leave that night, I live at the edge of the forest in a small cabin. There’s no one close enough to see me come and go.”

  The other eyebrow joined the first. “The forest? Do you mean The Grove of Secrets?”

  Wynona nodded. She knew the forest had a reputation. You didn’t go inside unless you didn’t want to come back out. It was called the Grove of Secrets because it was a complete secret as to what was inside. Her house probably wasn’t in the safest area, but it allowed her the peace and freedom she desired, and the price had been more than right. So far, she’d been just fine and she figured it would remain that way as long as she didn’t do anything to upset whatever creatures resided inside.

  The chief grunted and wrote something down.

  A loud crash came from the kitchen and Wynona gasped. She automatically started to leave, but the chief stopped her with his hand. Not saying a word, he looked over her shoulder and jerked his head at one of his officers.

  Wynona had no idea whom he sent. Her attention was completely caught by the deadly white hand in her vision.

  “Not so fast,” the vampire said. He dropped his palm. “I have a witness that places you here, at the scene of the crime, late on the night of the murder. Said they saw...” He consulted his notes. “A woman figure was seen skulking around to the back of the building around ten o’clock on the night of the murder.”

  Wynona gave him a distressed look. “That’s great that you have some kind of witness, but how does that mean it was me?”

  The chief consulted his notes again. “The witness said it appeared her hair was wound up in a bun on top of her head.”

  “You can’t be serious.” The cool, tenor tone took the attention of the entire room.

  Wynona let out a little sigh of relief as Roderick walked out of the back, looking as confident and suave as ever.

  “Now see here,” the chief said, pointing a finger at Roderick. “You have no authority in this case. Being the owner of the building has nothing to do with investigating a murder.”

  “Maybe not,” Roderick said casually, adjusting his cuff links as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “But a vague description from a half blind mole shifter won’t go very far in court and you know it.” He glanced at Wynona, giving her a quick grin before turning back to the chief. “For all we know, that ‘hair bun’ could have been a hat of some kind.” He smirked at the increasingly angry chief. “It’s fairly dark at ten o’clock at night,” Roderick continued. “How could she even tell the creature was female?”

  The chief pressed his lips together and closed his notebook with a snap.

  “Now, unless you have some concrete evidence,” Roderick said, turning his attention to the other officers in the room, as if asking their permission, “I suggest you leave this beautiful woman to get her business ready for its opening and go search for a murderer.”

  The chief’s nostrils were flaring, which was an interesting trick, since Wynona knew vampires didn’t breathe. His eyes flashed between Roderick and herself. Wynona found herself holding her breath. She was grateful for her landlord’s confidence in her innocence, but she wasn’t sure that antagonizing the police was the best way to help her.

  “You’ll be lucky if this place ever opens,” the chief spat. “RASCAL!” he shouted, causing Wynona to duck her head slightly at the anger in his tone.

  “Yeah, chief?” Rascal was panting as he came skidding out of the back. There was a tear in his shirt, dirt was smeared across his face and his hair, which was already messy, stood up like he’d been shocked by a live wire.

  “What the he—” The chief closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to know,” he muttered.

  Rascal shrugged. “Brownie,” he said, as if that explained it all.

  He looked at Wynona, who knew her eyes had to be as wide as tea saucers. Just what was Mr. Roich doing back there?

  Rascal winked, a small smirk on his attractive mouth. When his eyes shifted to Roderick, the amusement fled and disdain appeared instead.

  “Having trouble, Deputy Chief?” Roderick asked with a smile.

  Wynona barely held back a groan. The testosterone in the room was going to choke her.

  “Nope,” Rascal said, fixing the collar of his shirt. “Everything is perfectly under control.” He didn’t even flinch when a spoon flew through the air and smacked him on the back of his head. It landed on the floor with a clang, drawing everyone’s eye.

  Roderick’s smirk grew. “Looks that way.”

  “Rascal,” Chief Ligurio ground out. “We’re leaving. Now.”

  “Right away, Chief.” Rascal didn’t bother looking back. He did, however, take a route around the tables that brought him very close to Wynona and then gave her one last wink before following his group out the door. “Don’t use the front,” he said just before ducking out and shutting the door behind him.

  “What’s wrong with the front?” Roderick asked when they were left alone.

  “Ghost reporters,” Wynona said as she turned and scurried to the kitchen. “Thank you, by the way,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I appreciate your help with the chief.”

  “You’re welcome,” Roderick said politely as he followed her.

  Wynona scooped up the spoon from off the floor, then braced herself for what kind of condition she would find the kitchen in. From the sound of things, it couldn’t be good.

  “Oh my...” She felt her jaw drop open as she entered the space. If ever a kitchen sparkled, this was it. Her cabinets gleamed and her few dishes looked as if they were made of crystal with the way the light reflected off of them. The counters looked clean enough to eat off of and Wynona clasped her hands together. She was afraid to touch anything.

  “Nobody keeps things clean anymore,” Mr. Roich grumbled as he shuffled around the center island. “You young’uns have no sense of pride in your homes.”

  “How did you...?” Wynona shook her head. She had no idea where this man had come from, but she was grateful he was here.

  “Wolves aren’t allowed,” the brownie continued. “Messy...hairy...no manners.”

  Wynona put her fingers over her lips and stifled a giggle. Rascal certainly seemed mischievous, but she doubted he was as bad as Mr. Roich said.

  “We need to keep him around,” Roderick whispered in her ear.

  Wynona jumped. She had forgotten he was there and had no idea he had gotten so close. “He certainly knows how to keep things clean,” she said, putting a little distance between her and Roderick. “Can I interest you in a cup of tea?” she asked, walking farther into the kitchen to get some cups and saucers.

  “Will I have the privilege of your stunning company?” he prodded.

  Wynona smiled over her shoulder. “Mr. Caligari, I do believe you’re flirting with me.”

  “You just now noticed?” His grin was entirely too charming as he put a hand to his chest. “I’ll have to up my game.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “There you go.” Wynona set down a saucer and cup in front of Roderick. The steam tickled her nose and made her want to take a deep breath. The touch of ginger in the tea was slightly spicy, with a peppery backend. It was one of Wynona’s favorites.

  “Thanks,” he said, giving her a sultry smile as he picked up the cup and took a sip. Whistling under his breath, his silver eyes dropped to the tea. “I’ve never been much of a tea person, prefer coffee, but that’s pretty good.”

  Wynona allowed herself to preen just a little under his praise. She might not
have any magical powers, but she knew tea. Her granny made sure of that. “Thank you.”

  “So.” Roderick set down his cup just as Wynona’s phone buzzed.

  She held up a finger for him to wait, and answered. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Le Doux?”

  “Yes, that’s me.” Wynona snuck a sip as she waited for the person to speak again. Mmm...she loved this blend.

  “This is Yukimi from Hex Haven Career Resource Center for Paranormals,” the tinny voice said.

  “Oh. Yes!” Wynona smiled as she thought of the tiny imp that she’d spoken to about finding a...Oh.

  “We wanted to make sure that Mr. Roich had arrived and was behaving satisfactorily.”

  Wynona’s eyes automatically went to the kitchen, where the brownie was now rearranging her entire pantry. She had no idea where anything was in the kitchen anymore. “Uh, yeah. He’s great.” As long as you weren’t a wolf. Or you don’t care where your stuff is.

  “Good, good. Then we’ll take your job listing out of the open files. I’m so glad to hear he’s working out. Mr. Roich had a history... Well, I really shouldn’t say anything more.”

  “Uh...” Wynona’s eyes opened wide and she looked at Roderick as if he could help her.

  “He needed a good home. Thank you so much for giving him a chance. Bye!”

  Still feeling slightly shell-shocked, Wynona turned her head to look at the phone. That was definitely not what she had expected.

  “What happened?” Roderick took another sip of his drink. “You don’t exactly look happy.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, still a little lost. “I figured out where Mr. Roich came from.”

  Roderick’s blond eyebrows rose high.

  “I completely forgot I’d put in an application at the HHCRC,” she explained, using the acronym she heard around town. The name itself was just too long to say all the time.

  “Ah. So, Mr. Pigpen is the answer to your query?”

  Wynona gave him an unimpressed look. “Be nice,” she scolded, though not very fiercely. She couldn’t exactly blame Roderick for his description. Mr. Roich was covered in dirt, all except that fedora. He obviously took great pride in at least one part of his wardrobe.