by R M Connor
Pete’s desk shook as he plopped into his seat. He scooted closer and placed his own cup of coffee cup that said “World’s Greatest Cop” in front of him. He ripped off the tops of three sugar packets and sprinkled them into the liquid then stirred it with a plastic spoon.
“Okay.” He pulled out his little notebook from his chest pocket and clicked his pen. “One more time . . .”
I had already told him what I’d seen, what I’d done. I told him, Russell, and another officer separately. He had my statement written down in front of him. I sighed, lifting the coffee to my lips. I forced myself to swallow the tepid liquid.
“I was returning Eugene’s toolbox. He left it at The Witches Brew.”
Pete scribbled. “And why was he there?”
I tried to stop it, but I huffed. He had already written this down. “He was fixing my ovens.”
Pete looked at me, a weak smile gracing his lips. “I am so glad they got it fixed. You know I can’t go a morning without one of your—”
A throat cleared. Pete’s smile vanished. I looked over my shoulder to see Officer Russell with a perpetual frown standing behind me. I was starting to think that look had nothing to do with my muffins or coffee. I think it was just his face.
“How did you get in the store?” Pete continued.
This is where I started to lie and I really, really, hated lying. “It was unlocked.” My hands started to shake. I gripped the cup a little tighter and felt the Styrofoam starting to give under my nails.
“Did you see Michael?” Russell pulled a chair out to sit in front of me.
I shook my head. A strand of hair fell in front of my eye and I took my hand off the cup for just a second to push it back behind my ear. Closing my eyes, I repeated what I wrote on the yellow legal pad sitting in front of Pete.
“I walked in. The shelves were toppled over and then I slipped on—” Stomach acid burned my throat and tears stung my eyes.
Pete put his notebook down and patted my knee. “He’s a tough guy.”
A tear slipped down my cheek and I wiped it away as quickly as I could. Russell handed his business card to me. “I know your boyfriend and Michael are friends. If he shows up, you call me.”
I took the card and stared at the number. I hadn’t even realized he and Ethan were friends. I knew they knew each other but . . . this was just one more thing I didn’t know about Ethan.
“Can I go?” I asked.
Russell stood, pushing his chair back under his desk. “Riley.” He took the drink from my hands, shocking me with a little zap of static electricity. “I’m serious. Call me if you see Michael.”
I nodded. “Is he in trouble?”
“Not yet.” Russell showed me to the door.
I stepped out of the station, the cold air gripping me tight. Flip-flops and snow did not mix well but I was so glad I had something on my feet. I debated on whether or not to just go home, but I knew Maisie was probably worried sick. I had been in such a state of shock, I hadn’t even thought of calling her. I looked behind me, through the glass door of the police station. I could go back in and use the phone, but I had just lied to Officer Russell and wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
My toes were frozen by the time I stepped into the café. Maisie looked up from the register, her jaw dropped as I approached her. “What happened? Pete called a while ago. He said you were okay. What happened to your clothes?” she asked.
Thank God for Pete.
I shook my head, and overheard someone ask, “Has anyone seen Michael?”
Sure have, I thought, fleeing a crime scene. But what was Michael running from? If he had nothing to do with . . . whatever happened to his father then why didn’t he stick around? He had been very adamant about not being there when the cops showed up, I just didn’t understand why.
“I cannot believe someone would hurt Eugene,” another person whispered, and it caused my stomach to twist and tears stung my eyes. Sometimes I really hated how fast word spread in this town.
They were right, though. Who would want to hurt him?
I sat on an empty stool in front of the counter.
Vargas. He had been arguing with Eugene at Town Hall and outside the hardware store. Eugene’s disappearance had to do with whatever ‘business’ they were involved in together. But what was it? Was it something to kill over? A soft whimper escaped me. He couldn’t be dead. He was only missing, right?
A hand touched my shoulder, and I almost jumped out of my skin. Ethan held his hands up, palms facing out. “Whoa. You okay?” His eyes roamed over me. “Where did you get those clothes from?”
Maisie whispered to him, explaining what had happened and Ethan’s eyes widened. He sat on the stool beside me, swiveling mine to face him. “You okay?”
I nodded because that’s all I felt I could do.
Maisie cleared her throat. “Do either of you want some coffee? I’m sure we have some left.”
It was almost time for the café to close for the afternoon. Normally, I would never turn down a cup of coffee, but right now all I wanted to do was wake up from this nightmare. Without bringing too much attention to myself, I pinched my arm. When I didn’t spring up in my bed, I sighed. This wasn’t a dream, just a real-life nightmare.
“Does Michael know?” Ethan pressed his hand to my back, rubbing in small, gentle circles.
I swallowed, not wanting to lie to him, too. “Yes. He knows.”
“I’m going to go see if he’s okay.” Ethan pulled his cell phone from his pocket, placed a kiss on my temple then rushed out of the café.
But he wasn’t going to be able to find his friend. Michael was hiding. I just didn’t understand why.
Maisie walked with me back home so I could change into some clothes that fit me. My toes were freezing, and I desperately wanted a shower. But as we walked past the hardware store, my steps faltered. Her hand found mine and I looked down to see our matching crescent-moon birthmarks right below our thumbs.
Bean had the same marking between his eyes. I wonder where he was hiding. It wasn’t like him to be gone this long. I had no doubt he could take care of himself; I was fairly certain he was a lot older than the average cat. Though how old, I had no idea.
The police tape over the front door fluttered in the wind, taunting us as if it were about to fly away at any moment. We rounded the street corner, the flimsy flip-flops on my feet slipping on the snow. Maisie hooked her arm in mine to help steady me. I caught a glimpse of more bright-yellow police tape blocking off the alley behind the hardware store.
“What happened here?” Maisie pulled me toward the alley.
The crime scene tape went from each edge of the building to the fence that blocked our alley from the neighboring one. The snow had been manipulated by the crime scene investigators, and any indication of what might have happened, erased.
“I don’t know.” And that was the truth. I had no idea what happened to Eugene. I had no idea if he was alive or not. Someone had hurt him and dragged his body out of the hardware store. The trail of blood made that evident.
I was compiling quite a long list of I don’t knows between Sasha’s murder and whatever happened with Eugene.
As soon as we got home, I tossed the flip-flops off and went straight to the shower. With only a towel around me, I ran up the stairs. I threw the WPD sweats toward the hamper between the dresser and the wall. They fell short and landed on the edge of the dresser. Grabbing a white crew-neck shirt, I couldn’t stop thinking about the purple petal I saw under one of the fallen shelves. Something about it bothered me. It looked similar to the flowers that had been in the bathroom at Town Hall and I wondered if the police noticed it, too.
The floor of the hardware store was usually littered with sawdust and other debris. Eugene was an excellent handyman, but his store wasn’t swept very often. If it weren’t for me slipping, I’m not sure I would’ve noticed it.
Then there was that smell, something very subtle among the scent
of sawdust and metal. Had the police smelled it? I pulled on a pair of black jeggings and thick winter socks. I could have imagined it, I suppose. I know I had smelled that scent before, but it had been so subtle I was having trouble putting my finger on it.
Going to my closet, I looked at the few pairs of shoes neatly lined up on the floor and sighed. I loved my boots. I grabbed a newer pair that did not have that worn-in feeling and crammed my feet in.
With a clean, white, crew-neck shirt on and a thin, black-and-white, buffalo-plaid flannel on top, I walked back down the stairs to see Maisie sitting at the kitchen table. The blinds had been pulled up and she was staring outside. Large, fluffy snowflakes drifted to the ground, replacing the snow from the previous night that had already melted under the late-morning sun.
I fully expected Agatha to appear at any moment. But she was still “resting,” whatever that meant for a ghost. And I honestly wasn’t upset about it. I didn’t have the energy to banter with her. I slumped in the chair to the left of Maisie and she pushed a sandwich in front of me.
We had decided a few weeks ago that we needed to add another food group to our diets. Apparently, it wasn’t ‘healthy’ to live on cocoa rice crispies. But neither of us enjoyed cooking after work. So, sandwiches it was. They weren’t as good as Mike’s club sandwiches, but that was on the other side of town.
I brought the plate closer to me and stared at it. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t feeling much of anything. Glancing from the sandwich to Maisie, I poked her in the arm.
“Sorry.” She shook her head as if it brought her attention away from whatever she had been staring at outside. “This is just crazy. First Sasha, and now Eugene. What the hell is going on in this town?”
I leaned against the table with my elbow and blinked lazily as I tried to formulate an answer. I remember Michael telling his father that “nothing’s changed.” But he was wrong, something had changed and it was darkening Wildewood. I had an inkling it had something to do with us.
I brought the sandwich to my lips, deciding I would probably regret not eating later. I kept my eyes on her as I took a bite. I wasn’t going to worry her just yet. Maisie had a hard exterior but she also had a tendency to get worked up when she felt scared. No need to panic her. Not yet.
Anyway, we had a new employee to train and I needed one of us to be focused because right now, my mind felt as if it were a million miles away.
Zach rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the scribble on the ticket Maisie handed him. “What’s the Rich Witch, again?”
The corners of her lips twitched. She tapped her fingers to her mouth to hide it. Scooting closer to him, she pointed at the cheat sheet she’d made lying on the counter. “You start with drizzling caramel in the bottom of the cup.” Maisie reached past him, her arm rubbing against his, to grab the container and handed it to him. Smooth, Mais. “Fill it with the cold brew, then top it with whipped topping, then drizzle more caramel on top.”
He nodded and followed her directions. “Okay. Got it.” He held up the coffee drink, a drop of caramel running down the side, for her approval. Her eyes lit up as she smiled. Zach slipped around the counter with the drink in hand to deliver it.
Maisie’s cheeks were flushed, and I cracked a grin. I had never seen her smitten before. I wonder if that’s how I’d looked the first time I saw Ethan? On second thought, I’m fairly certain I looked like a boiled lobster.
Zach walked back to the bar, and I caught her stealing a glance at him. I decided to leave the two of them alone, also I was feeling a little creepy staring at the potential blossoming relationship. Swerving around the café with a tray, I gathered up empty dishes. I started walking toward the kitchen when a shadowy movement caught my attention.
I set the tray behind the counter and watched it move under the swinging doors. Pushing them open, I bumped into something large and fell backward onto my butt. Looking up, Zach stared down at me. I glanced past his legs, searching the kitchen. The fluorescent lights brightened every corner, pushing out any hiding spot for whatever the shadow was.
“Looking for something?” Zach asked. He wrapped his hand around mine and pulled me back up to my feet.
“I thought I saw—” I shook my head and dusted my backside off. “Never mind.”
But I knew I had seen it again. The little shadowy creature. It had been helpful with finding the grimoire, but what was it still doing lurking around?
The door chimed, and I looked over my shoulder. Tessa smiled and waved at me. I wiped my hands on my apron and met her at the counter where she perched on a stool. Washing the floor from my hands, I dried them quickly, then poured her a cup of coffee. “How’d the sale go?”
“Got rid of a lot of bags.” Her smile faded and her eyes grew with concern. “I heard what happened at the hardware store.” She reached across the counter and touched my arm. “I am so sorry you keep—” She twisted her lips.
Finding dead people? Trampling through crime scenes? Yeah, me too. “It’s okay. I just hope they figure out what’s going on, and quick.” But if Vargas had anything to do with it, as I suspect he did Eugene’s case, I wasn’t sure we would ever find out what really happened.
“Who’s that?” Tessa nodded toward Zach.
“Zachary Osbourne. He just started tonight.” I watched as he picked up a dirty cup and saucer. “I think we’re going to keep him.”
Tessa chuckled. “He’s not a pet, Riley.” She placed a gift bag on the counter. “You forgot Ethan’s gift.”
I pressed my lips tight together to stifle a chuckle as Zach handed me the dirty dishes.
“Hey.” Tessa wiggled her fingers and accidentally knocked her spoon on the ground. “Whoops.” She fluttered her lashes at Zach. “Could you get that for me?”
I rubbed my temple, trying hard not to laugh at how obvious Tessa was being. Zach bent over, his shirt slightly pulling up to expose skin right above his belt. Tessa looked at me and wiggled her eyebrows. Oh, good grief. I placed my hand over my mouth. She was too much some days.
Zach straightened up, spoon in hand. “Let me get you a new one.”
I rolled my eyes at Tessa as Zach began to hand Tessa a new spoon, but he tucked his arm back to his side. “Actually, this one has a spot on it.” He placed it in the sink and with a napkin, he picked up another one and placed it on the table beside her cup, crumpling the napkin up, then sliding it into his apron.
One of the last customers called him over.
I crossed my arms, tilting my head to look at Tessa. “What was that all about?”
Tessa picked up the spoon. “I was hoping to get a read off of him. But”—she placed the spoon back on the counter with a shrug—“he never touched the spoon.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Have you guys gotten your tree yet?”
Flicking my eyes to the ceiling, I shook my head. There were only ten days left until Christmas. At this rate, we should just wait until next year.
“Well, there’s a little place right on the edge of town, before the bridge, called Peaceful Acres. They sell Christmas trees.”
What Tessa was really saying was to get a move on before we ran out of time. She picked up her coffee and blew me a kiss before turning to leave. I padded into my office and set Ethan’s present on the desk. I wasn’t even sure the camera worked, but it looked vintage and that was cool, right? Was it too late to order matching outfits for everyone?
I walked to the front door, my fingers stilling as I watched Ethan hop the fence of the patio. He looked up and our eyes met. He winked, his smile deepening as my cheeks turned red. I took a step back as he opened the door. He leaned down to press his lips against mine, causing my eyes to flutter closed, his vanilla scent tightening things low in my body.
I opened my eyes when his lips pulled away. He was staring past me, so I glanced over my shoulder.
“I see you finally hired someone.”
Zach leaned over to wipe down a table. The muscles in his arm flexed under the white crew-n
eck shirt. His apron purposely twisted to the side. It looked much smaller on him than it did on Maisie or me. I looked back at Ethan, a sly smile on my lips.
“Jealous?”
He shook his head, his honey-colored locks moving freely. He pressed his lips against mine again, this time not as gentle, his arm slipped around my back and he pulled me against him. He lowered his mouth to my ear and whispered, “Not at all.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zach glance at Ethan. It wasn’t the friendliest look, though it only lasted a split second before he busied himself with a spot on the table in front of him. Did Zach recognize him? Ethan didn’t seem to know him. I patted Ethan’s chest and walked to the register to take out the till.
“I’m almost ready to get out of here,” I said, counting one-dollar bills and scribbling the total on a scrap piece of paper.
Ethan came up beside me, helping himself to the remaining bit of coffee. “I’m not in much of a rush.” He pressed against my back, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Not much of a rush?” I stopped counting, hoping I wouldn’t lose my place.
His lips brushed my neck before he walked back around the counter to sit in front of me. I blinked stupidly at him for a moment, my neck tingling where his lips had touched. “I developed that film you found.”
That piqued my interest and I lost my place. Who was I kidding, it had been lost the second Ethan touched me. Grabbing the wad of fives, I started again.
“Did you say you found it at Tessa’s?”
“Mhmm.” I nodded my head, not taking my eyes off the money in front of me, otherwise, we’d never get to leave.
“I’m interested to see what you think of the pictures.” Ethan tapped the counter rhythmically.
Crap. What number was I on? Sixty-five, I think. Or was it seventy-five? Shit. I placed the pile down and gave Ethan my most angelic smile.