Curse Me Under the Mistletoe

by Kennedy Layne

  “She-wolf?”

  I didn’t bother to respond to Orwin about the nickname I’d given the werewolf, having been through that once already with Pearl. Besides, there was something more going on with the situation that Pearl was intentionally keeping from me. She’d never deliberately done something like that before…it was so underhanded.

  “Underhanded?” Orwin asked in surprise, utterly fascinated that our etiquette-obsessed feline had done something so rude. “You now have my full attention.”

  “Excuse me,” a man said in a concise tone, stepping around us as he reached for the shop’s door.

  It just so happened to be one of the detectives who Orwin had been following around this morning. A quick look over my shoulder revealed that his partner was a few steps behind, slipping a cell phone into his heavy wool dress coat. Their expressions told me that something interesting was about to happen.

  “They’re going to be taking her in for official questioning,” Orwin murmured after the door had closed behind the two detectives. He shook his head in frustration. “I didn’t get more than that when they walked by, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to get close for a long enough period of time to pick up on Gracie Lynn’s thoughts. They’ll know something is up if I’m still standing here when they come out.”

  “Are you sure the police are just questioning her and not making an arrest?” I asked, wrapping my right arm around my waist in an effort to remain warm. I held the coffee cup to my mouth, hoping the bit of steam coming out of the slit in the cover would give my lips a bit of heat. Going from shop to shop hadn’t been too bad, but standing out in this cold weather was something else altogether. “We haven’t had much luck in past cases when it came to police involvement, but it’s possible the detectives can prove that she was the one who poisoned Edgar Booneville.”

  “No,” Orwin responded, shooting down any hopes that this murder mystery would be solved before lunchtime. “The fortune teller is basically their only suspect, besides the wife, of course. That’s due to the life insurance policy. As for the daughter and son-in-law, they aren’t even on the detectives’ radars. Have you heard from Knox?”

  “No, but he was just keeping an eye on the Booneville residence. I doubt anything exciting has happened over there except a lot of guests stopping in with food dishes.” I glanced across the street to see the two women who’d been inside the knitting shop step out onto the sidewalk. Piper was still inside, which meant she might have snuck a moment of privacy to speak with Norma’s employee. “I’m heading back over to the knitting shop. Keep me posted on what you find out here.”

  I carefully made my way back across the street, mindful of the small spots of ice and packed snow. Sure enough, I spotted Piper through the glass display window. She was deep in conversation with the employee behind the counter.

  Welcome back, Miss Lilura. The woman’s name is Julie Kirkham. She’s not only an employee of the knitting shop, but she’s also a very good friend of Mrs. Booneville. A wealth of information, I tell you. Now come in out of the cold, dear hexed one. Hurry now. No need to tempt Jack Frost. I hear he has a nasty bite.

  Once again, I was astonished at Pearl’s complete one-eighty. It was as if she’d been taken over by one of Orwin’s pod people that he claimed was another competing alien race that had visited earth for thousands of years. I’d already had my bare hand on the door handle, getting ready to pull it open when an inherent need to look over my shoulder was just too tempting.

  Miss Lilura, I think it best that—

  I had to blink a couple of times to make sure that my eyes weren’t deceiving me. It didn’t take long for the coldness of the handle to seep into my hand, which I yanked back before I ended with that frostbite Pearl had so playfully mentioned. It was what she hadn’t revealed that was the problem—Knox was the friend that the she-wolf was meeting with. He’d stepped outside the diner with his hand very casually placed in the middle of her lower back.

  “You knew all along,” I whispered harshly, grateful when no one was around to hear me. “Not nice, Pearl.”

  I’m sure that it’s not what it looks like, just as I’m certain there is a reasonable explanation as to why our stalwart werewolf isn’t at the Booneville residence. I didn’t mention that the friend our she-wolf had met up with was none other than Mr. Emeric due to my concern that you’d have this very reaction.

  I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to react to the fact that one of my team members had blatantly lied about being somewhere he wasn’t. As a matter of fact, he was supposed to be helping with the case so that he could go home to visit his family for the holidays.

  Technically, that was your wish for him, Miss Lilura. Mr. Emeric has made it quite clear that he doesn’t intend to return back home until after he is rid of his lycanthropy curse. I’m sure that the she-wolf is nothing more than a mere acquaintance. There is no need for—

  “So help me, Pearl, if you believe for one second that I’m jealous,” I muttered in a dare, while watching the she-wolf laugh at something Knox had said.

  I’d like to go on record that I’m not envious at all. I’m protective of my inner circle, that’s all. I also might or might not agree with Orwin’s statement earlier about anyone being capable of murder.

  Oh, dear. I do believe it’s time for one of my special holiday knock-knock jokes…

  Chapter Four

  “…so bad for her,” Julie finished saying as she stepped around the counter. She dabbed a convenient tissue underneath her eye, making sure that she hadn’t smeared her mascara. “Edgar had put off retirement until just this past week, mostly because he was a workaholic and just couldn’t help himself. Norma had all sorts of things planned to keep him busy, but…well, I guess now it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I’ll make sure to tell her that your grandmother sends her condolences.”

  I’d opted to reenter the knitting shop, leaving the whole Knox situation to Orwin. I refused to even contemplate how Knox knew that woman outside of the obvious, because all it would do was give Pearl fodder to keep those knock-knock jokes coming until I was begging for a few of those little green men to come take me away. I did wonder if my curse would still work in outer space. I imagined it would work no matter how far I traveled away from here. Running from my problems seldom did anything but complicate my situation.

  Let’s not find out, shall we? Instead, I’ll finish catching you up on Mrs. Kirkham. She not only works here part-time, but she and her husband are part of the bridge club that meets every Thursday evening. My sweet Piper couldn’t get a word out of her until she made up a story that her grandmother knew Mrs. Booneville from a chance encounter during a knitting convention years ago.

  There were knitting conventions? Who knew?

  It was then that I witnessed the colossal amount of yarn in Piper’s arms. I took another swallow of my coffee to keep from picturing myself in knitted accessories from head to toe. Piper had said that she wanted to up her game in the knitting department, but Pearl had mentioned a sweater project that had ended up going horribly awry. What were the chances that Piper could actually learn the proper way and work on such complicated patterns while travelling around the country in an RV?

  I do believe that this quaint little store has created a knitting monster, and please don’t put anything past my sweet Piper. She can be very determined when she sets her mind on something.

  “I just saw two detectives enter the fortune teller’s shop,” I added into the conversation, twisting slightly with a pointed finger. “Do you think that she has something to do with Mr. Booneville’s murder?”

  “It’s not surprising that the detectives sought Gracie Lynn out,” Julie said a bit haughtily with a single sniff as she reached out to lighten Piper’s burden. “Everyone knows about the argument she had with Edgar over at the diner. As a matter of fact, there’s some speculation that she might have actually placed a curse on him. She can be spiteful.”

  “You don’t believe tha
t, do you?” Piper asked in a hushed tone, as if she wasn’t sure curses were real or not. “I mean, a curse? Really? Witches aren’t real, right?”

  I find it quite strange that a woman who is supposed to be friends with the Boonevilles doesn’t seem to be a bit more upset. I mean, a good friend of hers did just died.

  Pearl had a point, but we’d learned a while back that not everyone grieved the same way in the midst of all of our cases.

  “I’m not denying that some of Gracie Lynn’s predictions come true, but I don’t know about a curse. It sounds like complete nonsense to me,” Julie said with a wave of her hand. “Norma spoke to those detectives first thing this morning, and apparently Edgar was poisoned.”

  “Who else had a problem with Edgar besides Gracie Lynn?” I asked, biting my lip when I realized that I’d asked that particular question too soon. Julie drew back a bit after she’d set Piper’s items on the counter, regarding me warily. “It’s just that Piper’s grandmother thought the world of Norma. I can’t imagine that being a small-town lawyer would attract those type of criminal elements, if you know what I mean. Could it simply have been an accidental poisoning, like with garden insecticides or something like that around the house?”

  Nice recovery, dear hexed one. I’m sure there’s a random person or two who haven’t heard what type of poison was used on poor Mr. Booneville.

  “You know, that’s exactly what I said on the phone to Norma this morning.” Julie walked over to the wall with hooks that contained every size needle a knitter could ask for, choosing a couple of packets and handing them off to Piper. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen Gracie Lynn angry before, and it’s not pretty. But to poison someone? Well, things like that don’t happen here in Covered Bridge. People just don’t go around here doing that sort of thing.”

  Considering that a she-wolf walked amongst the residents of this quaint little town, I had a feeling that Julie nor the rest of the townsfolk didn’t know of everything that went on in Covered Bridge.

  Touché, Miss Lilura. I do believe I can still detect a bit of resentment at me for attempting to spare your feelings, though. We should work on that. It does not bode well to keep things bottled up inside over long periods of time. Maybe we should try some free association later…possibly try punching some balls of yarn to work off that stress.

  I drained what was left of my coffee, already knowing that another one was in my near future. My phone vibrating was the perfect excuse I had for leaving Piper here to finish up her shopping while I made my way back to the café. I’d all but said as much as I turned on the heels of my well-worn Ugg boots that I’d bought last year before the start of the season. An informative text from Orwin had me stopping in my tracks.

  “Um, Mrs. Kirkham?” I turned around to find Julie showing Piper several books with numerous patterns that she could choose from. The older woman pasted a smile on her face as she raised a brow in question. “Do you know Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes?”

  “Why, yes,” Julie replied, straightening her shoulders a bit as she gathered her wits. “Roger and Debbie were good friends of ours. Why do you ask?”

  It was evident from the way that Julie reversed direction and took the pattern books over to the cash register that she was ready to ring up Piper’s items and send us on our way. Julie’s nervous response told me that Orwin was onto something, and my morning was finally picking up.

  Piper, my sweet darling, you’re going to want to enter those two names into your app under the suspect column. We could be closer to solving our mystery. Oh, and Miss Lilura? I would tread carefully with this line of questioning. Mrs. Kirkham seems a bit shaken that you would mention the Wilkes.

  “Oh, we were just hoping they still resided in Covered Bridge,” I replied with a small shrug, taking Pearl’s advice. Even I could see the slight tremor in Julie’s right hand. “Piper’s grandmother wanted us to say hello to Mrs. Wilkes.”

  “I do believe they still live over on Passage Lane,” Julie commented vaguely, beginning to ring up Piper’s order. She was rather swift at the task, too. “Can I interest you in our members only rewards program?”

  Rewards program? I was used to hearing about that type of sales gimmick at coffee shops, and rightfully so. I freely admitted to my love of espresso, and those reward programs in the chain stores definitely came in handy…but knitting? How much yarn could one person use?

  I daresay that a rewards program for either item or hobby might point to an addiction problem, dear hexed one.

  Pearl wasn’t one to talk such nonsense when she had to have her spot of warm cream three to four times daily.

  It has been scientifically proven that a spot of warm cream is good for a familiar’s overall health. Remember, Miss Lilura, I am no ordinary housecat with their rather commonplace dietary restrictions.

  I decided to end this disagreement with Pearl and to also not push Julie Kirkham any more than we already had this morning. The story of Piper’s grandmother would only get us so far before someone caught on to our ruse and started asking probing questions.

  It wasn’t long before Piper had a rather large bag of knitting purchases in her possession and a big smile on her face. Now this was what envy felt like, only I wanted to substitute her knitting purchases with a barista machine that could pump out a double shot of espresso. On second thought, especially after stepping outside, a caramel macchiato sounded divine. I’m pretty confident that the temperature had dropped a couple of degrees while we were inside.

  “Who are Roger and Debbie Wilkes, and what do they have to do with Edgar’s murder?” Piper asked immediately after we’d sidestepped a couple of other women entering the shop. I was still amazed by this new craze I was witnessing in regard to knitting. “Mrs. Kirkham was shaking so hard that I was afraid she’d stick herself with one of my new knitting needles.”

  My sweet Piper, I’d say it’s more likely that our dear hexed one here might use that needle on the woman currently holding onto Mr. Emeric’s arm. You should hold the bag with your other hand and keep all weapons out of reach.

  For the first time this morning, I wasn’t taken by surprise. I’d seen Knox and his little she-wolf the moment we’d stepped outside. Orwin was walking beside them, though his nose was practically inches from his phone.

  “Lou and Piper, I’d like you to meet Vanessa Carlisle,” Knox introduced, motioning for us all to continue walking. My problem with that scenario was that it was in the opposite direction of the café. “Vanessa, this is Lou and Piper. Somewhere around here is Piper’s familiar—Pearl.”

  Our resident werewolf does have impeccable manners, does he not? Please tell Mrs. Carlisle that I’m pleased to make her acquaintance.

  “There’s a bakery a few shops down,” Orwin said with a wave of his hand and without looking up from his phone. “You can get yourself a coffee there, Lou.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Vanessa,” Piper greeted with her usual peppy smile, holding out a hand that was still bare. She’d yet to put back on her mittens since stepping outside. “How do you know our friend Knox? I wasn’t aware that he had any friends around here. And Knox, weren’t you supposed to be somewhere else?”

  I could have hugged Piper, wanting to know that very question but afraid it would come across wrong. After all, Pearl had assumed that my problem with Knox was him having a she-wolf friend. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I simply didn’t like being lied to by my friends.

  Keep telling yourself that, dear hexed one. One of us might actually believe it, if we don’t think on it too hard.

  Orwin barked out a laugh, but Knox and Vanessa incorrectly assumed that he was amused about something he’d read on his phone. I was more grateful in this moment that Knox couldn’t hear Pearl than I was that the bakery up ahead would provide warmth and a much-needed caramel macchiato.

  “I was at that specific location earlier this morning,” Knox revealed while carefully watching his words in case someone overheard us. The five of us
took up most of the sidewalk, so I stayed in front to lead the way while Knox and Piper carried on the discussion. I did find it unusual that Knox was so forthcoming when he usually preferred to remain quiet while taking in the conversation and surroundings. “I happened to see Vanessa and decided to touch base with her.”

  I slowed down my step so that we didn’t come upon the bakery too soon. The more information I had regarding this she-wolf before we were in an enclosed space would allow me to relax somewhat, which should be understandable to everyone involved.

  I do agree that it is always wise to take precautions, dear hexed one.

  A quick glance across the street still showed that the fortune teller’s neon sign that designated whether or not the shop was open still had not been turned on. It appeared that those detectives really had taken Gracie Lynn into the station for questioning.

  “I actually met Vanessa when I was following you from Washington to Pennsylvania all those months ago,” Knox revealed, finally giving me an answer to my question. I still wasn’t comfortable with having an outsider brought in on a case without having had a group discussion first. Did Vanessa know the entire truth about Knox? “She and her pack were kind enough to offer me a home, but I graciously turned her down due to my job.”

  I believe Mr. Emeric replied to your question, Miss Lilura. It was as if he was attuned to your thoughts and actually made an effort to put your mind at ease.

  I could do without Pearl’s commentary, so I didn’t hesitate to open the glass door to the bakery. Maybe I’d even sneak her a spot of warm cream in a cup to divert her attention for a moment or two. Orwin was already mumbling about buying another blueberry scone while the others grabbed a private table in the back. A bit of privacy while standing in line for a beverage to give me back my sanity was just what the doctor ordered.