“Arrgh!” she cried as Sarah charged into the middle of the room toward her.
The woman dropped the book she was holding and held her arms up to shield herself from whatever she thought we were about to do.
All three of us continued screaming for several seconds longer before we could regain a modicum of control.
“Hello… Molly…” I said between gasps as I recovered.
White-faced, she raised a shaky hand to her mouth, and then fell down onto the chesterfield sofa next to her, which only had one of its three cushions in place.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“Hi!” said Sarah brightly. “We saw someone breaking in and came to help.”
“Help?” said Molly, peering up at us. She was squeezing her hands together on her lap.
“What happened here?” I asked as I peered around the room.
It looked like it had been ransacked.
The books were spread across the floor in front of the bookshelves instead of on them. The magazines under the coffee table had been tossed aside and the table itself was upside down. A couple of the cushions from the sofa that Molly was sitting on had been thrown into a corner of the room.
“I don’t know,” said Molly, shaking her head and quickly wiping an eye before dropping her hands back to her lap.
“Has the house been burgled?” I asked.
“Did you burgle it!?” shouted Sarah.
“No!” Molly’s answer was more of a yelp than proper speech. She took a deep breath and then managed a more measured tone. “I just got here myself. You said you saw me enter. I didn’t have time to do all this!” She opened her arms expansively to the room.
She did have a point there, I supposed. “Then what are you doing here?”
“Yeah!” said Sarah, waving her camera at Molly. “What do you think you’re doing!”
Before Molly could respond, Sarah put the camera in front of her face and squeezed the button. The blinding flash and noisy whirring caused Molly to let out another shriek.
“Sarah,” I said, taking her by the arm, “that’s enough. You’re frightening her.”
She took a moment to consider, then gave me a nod. She removed the latest picture from the camera and stepped back, away from Molly and me.
Molly took a deep breath. “I was just here to bring in the parcels. You saw them outside, right?”
“Yep, we saw them all right. But they are still outside.”
“Yes, you interrupted me,” said Molly, frowning. “When I opened the door, it didn’t look right in here, so I popped in to have a look around. I could tell the place had been robbed immediately.”
Sarah appeared back by my side and picked up something off the floor. I glanced at it. She was holding the book that Molly had dropped in fright when we entered. It was an appointment book for the current year.
“I just picked that up off the floor. I guess it was a futile gesture. I wasn’t going to tidy all this up. But it’s just habit, I suppose. I’m what they call houseproud and I can’t stand mess.”
“I see. Sorry to scare you, Molly. We better call the police, and report the burglary.”
Molly nodded in agreement immediately. Perhaps even a little too quickly?
What if Molly had been inside this house, ransacking it, and then seen us coming from the window? She could’ve just pretended to be entering the house for the first time. It would’ve been easy for her to slip out the back, go around the front, and ‘enter’ just before us.
“Hello? Police? I want to report a murder-burglary!”
I spun around. Sarah had already called the police and gotten through.
“Well, the murder wasn’t today. It was just a burglary today.” She tilted her head thoughtfully as she spoke. “But there was a murder here. What? Yes. Yes, we’re at Sandra’s House of Fudge…”
“Sandra’s illegal house of fudge,” muttered Molly.
“…yes, that’s the one. See you soon. Bye.” Sarah hung up the phone with a satisfied smile on her face.
“There.” Sarah stood in front of Molly. “The police are coming for you now.”
I nudged Sarah again. “Not for her, for us. For the house.”
Sarah ignored my correction. She was already going through the photos of Molly she’d taken, holding each one up and peering at it as if she would glean some vital clue from her inspection.
We stood and sat awkwardly while we waited for the police. We didn’t have much in common and making small talk with a person you’d half-scared to death a few minutes ago was more than a little uncomfortable. Sarah and I ended up staring at our phones once she was done looking at her pictures, while Molly sat in silence on the sofa, hands on her knees and a patient look on her face.
After approximately forever, the police showed up with a squeal of tires outside. Thudding boots ran up, and then the front door was pushed open with force, causing it to bang against the interior wall.
“This is the police!” cried a familiar voice.
“In here, Jack,” I yelled.
And, not for the first time, I waited in a murder victim’s house while my almost-boyfriend Detective Jack Bowers arrived.
Chapter 17
“Oh! Hi, Jack!” I said with a smile when he entered the living room.
He gave me a quick grin of greeting and then peered around the room as if perplexed. His gaze then returned to me.
“Aria. You do turn up in the most interesting places, don’t you?”
I nodded. He’d once caught me in the home of a different murder victim and had threatened to arrest me if I did it again. Obviously, the circumstances were completely different this time. I had a good reason for being in the house this time. Well, a reason, anyway.
I hoped he’d see it the same way.
“My officers are going to have a look around and see what’s missing,” said Jack in his most serious policeman-voice. “And we’ll need to get statements from all of you. We should be able to do that here. There won’t be any need to go down to the station.”
“Great,” I said with a smile.
“Aria? If you’ve got a moment…” Jack beckoned me over to him. I’d clearly been chosen first because I was his favorite. At least, I thought maybe that was the case.
I followed him out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen. I half-expected to see Sandra still there, head in the big pot of fudge, but of course she was long gone and the kitchen had been completely cleaned up.
“You wouldn’t know there’d been a murder in here, would you?” I said after looking around the room.
“No, not at all. You know, pretty much all these older houses have seen a death or two,” said Jack.
“Oh?”
Jack pulled out two chairs from under the wooden table that was pushed up against the right-hand wall.
“Sure. Back fifty, a hundred years ago, most people died at home instead of in hospitals.”
“Oh. I thought you meant murders,” I said with a frown.
Jack smiled while he patted one of the chairs for me to sit on. “If that was the case, they’d need another dozen Jack Bowers!”
“That would be nice,” I said with a smile that quickly faded as my cheeks went crimson in blush.
“Ah. Anyway,” said Jack sitting down, “what were you doing here, exactly?”
I was pleased and relieved that I actually had a good excuse for being in a murder victim’s home for once.
“Sarah wanted to take a picture of the house, for her Sandra scrapbook. But when we got here, we saw a strange woman going in the front door. We thought it might have been a burglar, so we went to investigate.”
“Are you a police officer, Aria?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “But I did wear a uniform for Halloween one year. Going as a witch every time was getting old.”
Jack flashed another polite smile but now it seemed forced.
“Aria. If you see someone break
ing into a home, especially a home in which a person has been murdered, it is of utmost importance that you call the police. You mustn’t…” he hit the table with the palm of his hand, “mustn’t go in after them. What if it had been the murderer? Maybe you’d be lying over there,” he said, pointing to the floor by the stove, “instead of sitting here.”
I looked down at my hands, my shoulders hunched over like a schoolgirl who’d misbehaved. “Sorry. It was a woman, and she didn’t look threatening, from what we saw. And there were two of us.”
Jack nodded, and reached over, placing his hands atop mine.
“I only say these things because I worry about you, Aria. Also, I don’t want you breaking the law. But mostly because I worry about you.”
We both grinned at each other.
“So when you arrived, you realized it was Molly, and then…?”
“We saw the place had been ransacked and so we called the police. There’s not much to it.” I looked him in the eyes as I spoke. His dashing green eyes that turned emerald in the sun.
“And what was Molly doing when you arrived?”
“She was in the living room, looking around. She’d picked up a book off the floor—Sandra’s appointment book—and then she screamed.”
“She screamed?” said Jack in surprise. “Why did she scream?”
My eyes flicked down from his.
“Well, because Sarah screamed. I think she did it to scare the burglar—who turned out to be just Molly. And her screaming made me scream. And our screaming made Molly scream.”
“Aria, Aria, Aria. How do you keep getting yourself in such messes?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
“Is there anything else?”
For a couple of seconds, I ran back over all the events in my mind. It didn’t seem like I had missed anything important.
“Nope, that’s it.”
“And your mother?” he asked, leaning in.
“Still haven’t heard from her,” I said with a shake of my head. “She’s completely disappeared as far as I can tell.”
“If she doesn’t show up soon, we’re going to have to put out a warrant for her, I’m afraid. We really do need to speak to her.”
“I understand,” I said sadly. “I do hope she comes back soon. It’s just so… embarrassing, having her disappear on us all.”
“Embarrassing for you, but a headache for the police.” Jack sighed and stood up. “Okay, I’ll speak to Molly next and then Sarah.”
Pushing my chair back I rose to my feet. “I’ll send her in now.”
“Don’t get into any trouble!”
I shot him a grin. “No more today, I promise.”
“Just today?”
With an enigmatic smile, I refrained from answering and went out to grab Molly.
I lingered in the hallway until Jack was done speaking to all of us. In the meantime, a couple of other police officers whom I didn’t know investigated the house, searching upstairs and downstairs for whatever it was that police looked for after a burglary.
“All done,” said Jack when he returned with Sarah in tow.
“Did our stories match?” I asked with a grin.
“Nope,” said Sarah brightly. “I made mine much more exciting, until Jack told me he only wanted the true bits. Bo—” she dragged out the o sound “—ring.”
Jack had a word with his policemen while we waited to be given the all clear to leave.
“That’s it. You can go home now,” Jack told us.
I was just about to agree when Sarah interrupted.
“What? No way! Tell us what you found!”
Jack looked startled. He wasn’t used to people like Sarah. Though to be fair, I was just about the only person who was used to her.
“As a matter of policy, we don’t comment on ongoing inv—”
Sarah jabbed him in the chest with a finger. “Blah, blah, blah. Come on. What did you find? Fingerprints? Hairs? A bone?”
“Eh? A bone?” said Jack in a fluster. “No, none of that. Look, we wouldn’t usually say, but since you’re so interested, I’ll tell you.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” said Sarah in disappointment.
“What do you mean nothing?” I asked. “The place has been turned upside down.”
Jack nodded. “It has, but nothing valuable has been taken. The television, her computer, her jewelry—it’s all still here. It must have been kids.”
“Kids?” I leaned back against the wall, thinking. “I bet kids brazen enough to break into a murder house would also be brazen enough to steal some of the valuables, don’t you?”
“Maybe they were just curious,” said Sarah with the kind of tone that made you wonder whether she had let herself into buildings out of curiosity in the past.
“Well, the fact remains that the valuables are still here,” said Jack. “Although the place is trashed, nothing seems to have gone missing since last time we were here.”
“When was that?” I asked.
“Oh… let me see. We had forensics in for a day…” he tapped his chin thoughtfully, “I’d say, about four days after the murder? It was a couple of days before that memorial service.”
“I wonder…” I began.
“What?” asked Sarah and Jack in unison.
“What if something valuable was taken, but we just don’t know what it was? Not jewelry or gold or electronics. Something else.”
“Like what?” asked Jack.
“Such as?” asked Sarah.
I shrugged.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m just thinking out loud. Come on, Sarah, we’ve got to get back to the shop, we have an appointment at four, remember?”
“Do we?” asked Sarah. “Oh right, I remember!” she said brightly.
“Have a good afternoon, Jack.”
“Thanks for not arresting us!” said Sarah with a wave. “Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand and dragging me toward the front door. “Let’s see what other mischief we can find today!”
It was with an apologetic look over my shoulder that I left Jack, a bewildered look on his face, as I was dragged away by my employee.
The afternoon had not been a complete waste of time, however. I had a suspicion as to who had broken into the house, and what it was they had taken.
Chapter 18
The next morning, I went down into my shop bright and early. I cleaned and tidied and readied the displays, and at nine o’clock on the dot, I unlocked the doors and welcomed a new day.
For an hour, I waited semi-patiently for Sarah to arrive.
Ding!
As she stepped in, I took one of the coffees out of her hand and held the door open.
“Do you mind watching the shop for a while, Sarah? I’ve got something to do.”
She blinked at me with sleepy eyes.
“Sure,” she said with a yawn and wave. “Have fun on your date.”
“Date? I’m not going on a date. I’m following up on something from yesterday. I’ll tell you about it later.”
I left shaking my head. One day, Sarah and I would be on the same page, but it didn’t seem like it was today.
I walked slowly, sipping the coffee through the little hole in the plastic lid and thinking about what I was going to say to Randi when I got to her candy shop. Should I be firm and direct? Friendly and roundabout? Mean and loud?
“Aria Whitmore!”
The voice was right in my ear. I jumped back, startled.
A dozen feet in front of me was one of the scariest people I knew.
Hazel Crane.
She was a witch of the dark arts and I did my best to avoid her. Unfortunately, I had repeatedly failed at avoiding her recently, and now it looked like she’d trapped me again.
She peered at me with her young-looking old woman’s eyes. Her true age was impossible to guess by sight alone because she used so much magic to disguise her appearance. With Mom, it was pure vanity,
but with Hazel Crane something darker was always afoot. I think she liked to maintain a youthful demeanor to catch people off guard. She managed to catch me off guard just about every time I spoke to her.
Hazel was of a similar height to me, but what was most remarkable about her was her strangely tanned skin. Not because the skin itself looked odd, but because it was in stark contrast to what looked to be naturally red hair. The two didn’t normally go together.
“Don’t project your voice in my ear like that,” I told her, thin-lipped. “It’s rude.”
“You don’t know what rude is, Aria Whitmore. Rude is being an ungrateful little witch.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can I help you with anything, Hazel?”
“You, help me?” she dropped her head back and cackled entirely too loudly. While witches do have a right to cackle, there’s a time and a place for everything and people were beginning to stare.
“Well?”
Hazel dropped her head back down and in an instant, her face switched back from evil laughter to a stern schoolmarm expression.
“I know where you’re going.”
“Me too,” I said, stepping to the left and intending to walk by her if she didn’t get to the point or get lost soon. Hazel stepped to the left as well. Not after me, but at the exact same time as if she were my mirror image.
“Aria Whitmore and Annabelle Whitmore owe me, now.” While she spoke, she dropped her chin to her chest while her eyes rolled up high in the sockets to maintain eye contact with me.
“Is that so?” I wondered what exactly my mother had gotten herself into. I’d rather be in debt to any bank than to Hazel Crane—that was one thing I knew for sure. And now Hazel was saying I was in debt to her too.
“Oh yes, you do, you do, you do. And I know exactly how I want to be repaid, Aria Whitmore. Exactly how.”
Suppressing a shudder, I stepped to my right and was again simultaneously matched by Hazel. She raised her right hand. A second later, it flashed out, landing on top of mine in an instant, over my coffee cup, before I could even consider stepping away from her.
“There’s time for repayment, Aria Whitmore. Time indeed.”
Wedding Bells And Magic Spells Box Set Page 47