by Fitz Molly
“You didn’t have to. I know what people think of me in this town. It’s a small town. People talk, and the supernatural aren’t excluded from that.”
“Your grandfather took you out of his will.”
She stepped onto her front porch and shut the door behind her, but not before John had scurried inside without her noticing. “The old warlock was a jerk. Called me selfish and spoiled, and said I didn’t deserve anything he’d plan to leave me.”
I clenched my left fist into a ball. “And did you kill him because of it?”
“Why do you think someone killed him? Just because a bunch of humans think a place is haunted doesn’t mean the ghost was murdered. Maybe he just likes the place? Maybe he doesn’t like what those new people did to it?”
“I may not be able to see your grandfather, Rebecca, but I need to do whatever I can to help resolve the rumors to sell the house. If that means I have to finish his unfinished business, then that’s what I’ll do. And at the moment, all signs lead to him being killed.”
She crooked her head to the left. “Yeah? How so?”
“Poisoning.”
She blinked, and I caught the quick eye shift to the right. “Well, I don’t work with potions, so if good old Granddaddy was poisoned, you ought to talk to my momma again. She’s the potion witch.” She flipped around to head back inside.
Our conversation wasn’t over. I gathered a big dose of confidence and grabbed her shoulder to stop her. “Rebecca—”
She turned around, waved her hand, and sent me flying two feet off the ground backward. “Be gone, stupid witch!”
I gathered my balance and flung my hand to close the door. I flicked my hand to the left, and the door locked. “I’m not stupid,” I said, taking two large steps toward her.
She aimed her eyes at my chest and sent a bolt of bright red electricity at me. I swung my upper half to the side and watched the red bolt pass by. I looked at her just in time to see her shoot another one in my direction. I ducked and screamed, and I screamed again when the front window exploded. Tiny pieces of glass shot onto the porch. I moved to the side, but Rebecca didn’t move fast enough. Glass hit the back of her body, and the mean witch screamed as she fell forward.
John jumped onto her shoulder and pulled her upright before she hit the ground. He tossed her to the side and into a beat-up wooden rocking chair. She sat slumped over, breathing heavily and whining from the pain a million pieces of glass ripping through her skin must have caused.
“Come on,” John yelled. “Let’s get out of here.” He jumped high enough to reach my shoulder and dug his claws into my shirt as I ran to my car.
Chapter Nine
“Wow!” I finally took a moment to breathe two miles away. “I mean, thank you, but wow.”
John folded his left front leg over his waist and took a bow. “At your service, ma’am.”
I’d never tease John about his mousiness again. “I appreciate what you did back there.”
“Just doing my job. Where we going now?”
“Jacob Cardinal said he was married.”
“Yup.”
“I want to talk to his wife, but I’m not sure I want to go back to his house just yet.”
“Between us, I could use a little break. All that hard work makes a mouse tired and hungry.”
“I should stop and say thank you to Esmerelda for the tea. It’s what gave me the strength to fight Rebecca.”
“Why do you think she did that?”
“Because she’s an angry witch that hates everyone.”
He made a high pitched buzzing sound. It was so loud, poor Roland jerked awake.
“Sorry, dude,” John said, then looked at me again. “I think she did it because you’re on to her, and she knows.”
“You think she killed her grandfather?”
“I could be wrong, but that doesn’t happen often.”
Esmerelda greeted us at the door. “I figured you’d be back.” She handed me a cup of lavender tea. “Here, this will calm you right up.”
“How’d you know I—”
“Honey, a witch like me knows a lot more than you’ll ever understand.”
Did she know what I’d been hiding?
“Now, come on. Sit a spell, and let’s have a chat.”
Roland ambled through the door and to the corner of the café and snuggled into a ball. Seconds later, he was sound asleep again. John raced through the café at lightning speed searching for food scraps.
Esmerelda and I sat at a small two-top mosaic tile table near Roland. She smiled as she patted my hand. “Honey, what in the devil are you getting yourself into?”
“I need to find out if Cornelius Mayfield was murdered.”
“This is more than just trying to squash a rumor, isn’t it?”
I wanted to tell her the truth, but I couldn’t, and I hated myself for that. “I just feel like the house won’t sell until I know the truth, and Mr. Mayfield’s spirit can be set free.”
“But, you don’t even know if his spirit is really there.”
A little light bulb went off over my head. “I can cast a spell! I can ask the spirit to show himself!”
She sighed. “No, hon, you can’t. It won’t work. Believe me, I’ve tried. We’re just not able to see what we’re not supposed to see.”
Esmerelda and I talked for over an hour, and even though I wasn’t completely honest with her, I was able to say some things and ask questions, which she answered. Most important of them all was the information she’d provided about Jacob and Jennifer Cardinal’s unhappy marriage.
“She left that awful man a year ago. He may do wonderful landscape work, but from everything that poor woman told me, he was a terrible husband.”
I was grateful for the information. It showed Jacob Cardinal wasn’t the nicest man alive and put him at the top of my suspect list. At least for the time being.
* * *
The front doors of the assisted living home sprang to life as I stepped toward them. I’d ordered John and Roland to stay outside, and John wasn’t pleased.
“There are older people in there, and I think most of them have some kind of medical issue. I know you don’t like to hear this, but mice scare a lot of people. Do you want to scare someone so much they might—” I stopped before I finished that sentence.
He groaned. “Fine, but I’m staying right by this door, so I can keep an eye on you. The first sign of danger, and I’m coming in.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
Jennifer and Jacob Cardinal didn’t look like a good match. Jacob had a rugged, worn out look to him, the kind that came from too much time in the sun and not enough hydration. His leathery skin lost most of its elasticity, and I wasn’t sure he’d shaved in months. Jennifer pulled her dark hair into a bun on the back of her head, and there wasn’t a wrinkle or sunspot on her creamy white skin.
As we shook hands, I noticed a hint of something flowery smelling near her. It was faint, and I was barely able to notice it over the sterile smell of cleaning supplies used in the building, and it caught me by surprise. “Are you wearing perfume?”
She touched her neck. “Just a little. We’re not supposed to because it might bother the residents.”
“It smells great. What is it?”
“Oh,” she said, smiling. “An oldie, but definitely a goodie. Channel No. 5.”
“Well, you wear it well.”
“Thank you.” She sat across from me on the patio off the facility's main sitting area. “I’m not sure why you’d want to talk to me about Jake. I divorced that man a year ago.”
“I’m actually looking for some information about one of his clients and their relationship.”
She crossed a leg over the other but kept her back stiff and straight. She wanted me to think she was comfortable, but her body language betrayed her. “I wasn’t involved in Jake’s business.”
“I understand, but maybe you’ll have some input.” I handed her my card.
“I’m working to sell a home that’s rumored to be haunted, and there are questions about the previous owner's death.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Why would that be a concern for the real estate agent?”
“The state doesn’t require agents to disclose deaths in a home unless they’re directly asked, but since these rumors are growing, I want to be able to address them if they come up.”
“What house?”
“Cornelius Mayfield’s.”
She gazed off toward the French doors into the building. She looked back at me with a stern expression. “I knew Cornie from town, but I wouldn’t call us friends, so I’m not sure how I can help you. Besides, shouldn’t the police be investigating a possible murder?”
“I’m just doing my due diligence to help the home sell faster for our client.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure I can help. Like I said, I wasn’t involved in my ex’s business.”
“You might know something you don’t realize, you know. Your husband and—”
“Ex-husband.”
“Sorry. Your ex-husband and Mr. Mayfield had a disagreement over payment for work done. Your hus—ex wanted to be paid, but Mr. Mayfield didn’t want to pay him until he’d finished the work. At one point, Mr. Mayfield found your husband inside his home, going through his desk. Do you think that could be about the money?”
“That’s interesting because Jake mentioned having a confrontation with someone and trying to get paid, but he didn’t say who. And he said something about getting paid no matter what he had to do.”
“Your ex said he was with you the night Mr. Mayfield died in his sleep. Do you know if that’s true?”
“I really don’t understand why you’re asking me these questions and not the police.”
“If I learn something that validates the rumors, I’ll definitely go to the police.”
She stood. “Great, if you do, I’ll talk to them.”
I jumped from my seat. “Ms. Cardinal, please. I’m not accusing you or your ex of anything. I’m just trying to find out if there’s any truth to these rumors.” Mr. Mayfield’s cause of death wasn’t a rumor to me, but she didn’t need to know that. “Please, can you tell me if you were with him the night Mr. Mayfield passed?”
“I’m not sure. What was the date?”
“January 23, 2018.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Wow.” She shook her head. “No, I was definitely not with my husband that night. That I can guarantee. As a matter of fact, that was right around the time he’d told me he’d had a confrontation with a customer.”
I wanted her to continue, so I didn’t respond.
“That night was the final straw. He stayed out all night, and when he came home the next morning, he smelled like liquor and cigarettes and was still drunk. I went to my attorney on January 24 and filed for divorce. I call that the start of my liberation from that jerk.” She smiled, and it was a genuinely happy smile. “I can’t say whether he had anything to do with Cornie’s passing, but I will say this. If he did, he was probably too drunk to remember.”
John met me outside the facility’s entrance. He crawled up to my shoulder and squeaked. “What’s that smell?”
“My socks are clean!”
“It’s like vinegar with a hint of flowers.”
I laughed. “That’s the cleaning products they use, and you’re probably smelling leftover perfume from Jennifer Cardinal.”
He climbed down my arm and rested in my hand, then rubbed his nose. “It’s not a good combo. Havarti and pepper jack cheese smell delicious together.”
“You need therapy.”
Chapter Ten
Iris stormed into the office ranting about cake and champagne she was supposed to have at one of her monthly realtor group meetings. I quickly but quietly shut my door. I had a ton of her work to catch up on, and the last thing I needed was to be the victim of one of her verbal rants.
“Had I known I was supposed to bring it this week, I would have made sure Alyssa got it there.” Something slammed onto either the reception desk or another table in the main entrance. “It’s her job. She should have known it was my week.”
I hit the keys on my keyboard softly, hoping she wouldn’t know I was in my office.
“Where is that girl anyway? Does she ever come into the office anymore?”
“She’s working on one of your listings at the moment. She’ll be back later this afternoon.”
Goddess, I love Maggie.
“Fine. Order a white cake with vanilla cream frosting and six bottles of champagne. Get it to the community center within the next thirty minutes, or you’re fired.” The front door to the building slammed shut.
I finally breathed and crept out of my office with my imaginary tail between my legs. “Thank you,” I whispered.
Maggie beat the buttons on the office phone with her finger. She probably imagined they were Iris’s face, and she was jabbing her in the eyes or something. “You so owe me that pizza.”
“I so do.” I tiptoed back to my office and closed the door again. The wrath of Iris was bad, but no one in their right mind should tick off Maggie. Trust me on that.
A few minutes later, my office phone buzzed. I picked it up and said, “What’s up?”
“Grace Mayfield is here to see you.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Should I walk her back?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
The phone cut off, and a few seconds later, my door opened. I stood and offered Grace a seat across my desk.
“I’ll stand.”
Okay, then I will too. “What can I do for you today?” I kept my tone light and professional.
“I want you to stop asking questions about my daddy’s death. He died in his sleep. You need to leave well enough alone.”
My body stiffened. “I’m just doing my job.”
“No, you’re stirring up trouble, that’s what you’re doing.” She hadn’t done any primping before leaving the house. Her long gray dress was wrinkled and in dire need of a washing. Her hair, scattered and matted, need bottles of shampoo and conditioner to even begin to tackle those mats.
“It’s hard to sell a home that’s rumored to be haunted. I’m just trying to put a stop to the rumors, and if your father is still there, find a way to send him off peacefully.”
Her voice shook with anger. “You may be a witch, but you’re no match for me. I’m not going to warn you again. Mind your business and stay out of mine.” She yanked the door open with a flick of her hand and stormed out.
I dropped into my seat and clasped my hands together to stop them from shaking.
Maggie smiled from the doorway. “You okay?”
I nodded.
She stepped inside my office and shut the door behind her. “What was that about?”
“It’s nothing. She’s just not happy about her dad’s house being on the market.”
“That’s nothing new. She pitched a fit when we sold it to the Andersons.”
“Wasn’t she the one that wanted to sell it?”
“Nope. The estate sold it, and all the proceeds went to a charity. I don’t remember which one, but I could probably find it.”
“I wonder why it went through the estate and not to her?”
She shrugged. “Probably had something to do with the stuff with Cornie’s granddaughter. They didn’t get along, and if I remember correctly, Grace took her daughter’s side. Neither of them got anything in the will.”
Now that was something I hadn’t heard. “How come everyone calls him Cornie? I barely knew the man when he was alive.”
“Really? I thought everyone knew him. He spent a lot of time visiting businesses in town until he couldn’t get around well on his own anymore.” She straightened a pile of file folders on my credenza. “Maybe it was while you worked that job in Savannah?”
“I guess so.
” I closed my laptop. “I think I’m going to go check on the house. I’m a little worried now that you said she didn’t want to sell it.”
“You think she’s going to do something to it? I mean, yeah, she was mad when we listed it, but I’d think she’d be over that by now.”
“You really think that?”
She pressed her lips together and then shook her head. “Not really.” She swiped her fingers over the back part of the credenza and stared at the dust on her finger. “Our cleaners need to step up their efforts.” She wiped the dust off her finger and said, “Come to think of it, when we first listed the house, Iris had an appointment to show it and caught Grace busting out a wall in the office. It was a bedroom really, but he had a desk in there.”
“Weird,” I said, pretending that didn’t concern me. “I’m definitely going by there now. I don’t want her trying to vandalize the place or anything.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. What if she comes back like you think? That woman is crazy.”
“I think I can handle it.”
“You could always call the police about it. Maybe that cute Officer Raines will get the call.”
I fake-laughed as I walked past her and to my car. “See ya,” I said, waving my hand behind me.
“You need a life!” She hollered after me.
* * *
Grace Mayfield hadn’t come to the home, and I didn’t expect she would. At least not right away. I stepped inside and locked the door behind me. Locked doors didn’t stop witches, so I went ahead and cast a protective spell over the home. Since I didn’t have any potions or any of my ritualistic materials like candles, it would just be a temporary spell, and it would have to do.
“Powers of the Universe, summon you I must,”
John and Roland sat in front of me and watched me struggle to make the spell up on the fly. I couldn’t look at them, or I’d lose my focus.
“This home protect from harm and danger, and keep it safe from family and strangers.” It was rough, but it should do the trick.