by R M Connor
With only two hours before the next shift began at The Witches Brew, I made my way around the square, toward Luna’s Boutique. My palms were clammy and the dread I was feeling made my legs heavy. The perfume had to be a coincidence. It just had to be.
The door chimed a quick melody as I stepped inside. The scent of patchouli wafted around me, squelching the fresh air from outside immediately. Jessica looked up from her book at the register and a smile spread over her face. She placed her bookmark between the pages and set the book on the glass top.
“Welcome!” She slid off her stool, a tissue going to her nose as she sneezed. Tossing the tissue into a trash can, she walked around the counter. “Still want black aprons?”
I opened my mouth to answer, and she sneezed again, this time into her hands. She looked at her palms and under her breath, excused herself as she made a dash to the bathroom. I looked around the empty store. I rarely came into the boutique. The clothing and jewelry were more high-end than what I wore. Though, maybe I could find something for Maisie while I was here.
Slowly walking down the far-left aisle, I stopped at a wall of jewelry. Everything was new, shiny, and looking at a price tag, out of my price range. It didn’t matter, I wasn’t sure Maisie would even wear anything from here. We may not have grown up together, but we shared a similar style of dress. Chucks, baggy sweaters, and whatever jeans were comfortable.
I moved to the next aisle, my nose wrinkling as the smell of the perfume grew stronger. In the center of the store on a circular table were a dozen or more perfumes on display. There was a large bouquet in the middle of the table: purple, white, and red flowers, very similar to the ones in the bathroom at Town Hall. I ran the tip of my finger over one of the purple petals, waiting for my finger to go numb as it had before.
Nothing happened.
I picked up a clear perfume bottle and brought it up to my nose. It was a decent fragrance, a little on the fruity side. Placing it back down, a short, round bottle with a long, black atomizer caught my attention. It was pretty, with a chiseled glass design, skewing the view of the deep-purple liquid inside. Spraying it away from me, I sniffed the air and started to cough. I waved my hands in the air in hopes to disperse the smell faster.
This was the perfume I had smelled at the hardware store, and the perfume Sasha had worn, and that Jessica currently wore.
“Isn’t it great?” Jessica came up behind me.
I jumped, fumbling the bottle. Regaining my hold on it, I put the bottle down, suppressing another cough, and nodded. Sure. Yep. Wonderful.
“Here, take a sample.” She handed me a small, cylindrical vial. I took it, mostly to not hurt her feelings, and followed her to the register.
I slipped the vial into my pocket. “Is it popular?”
Jessica shook her head, returning to her stool. “No, but I just put it out. It’s such an amazing scent.” She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes. “There is something about it that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s”—she tapped her finger on her chin, her eyes cast to the ceiling—“enchanting, almost.”
I’d prefer not to put my finger on it. In fact, I would probably have to change my clothes after I left here. The mist landed all over me instead of on the floor. The whole boutique now reeked of the smell, more so than before. Stifling a chuckle, I imagined Jessica frolicking around the store, spritzing the perfume every few skips. Then I remembered what she might have done and the visual quickly went away.
She laid two black aprons on the counter and pulled a thin, embroidery design book out from under the register. “Want the same thing? Or would you like to try something new?”
“Same design, but . . .” I looked at the two waist aprons. One was longer than the other, the pockets much deeper. “I think we’ll go for the longer one this time.” I’m sure Zach would appreciate that more than the one he was using.
Jessica pulled out a receipt pad and tallied the price.
“Who all has bought the perfume?” I tried to keep my voice even, hoping I could pry a bit more.
“Just Sasha. I gave her a sample when it first came in.” Her eyes began to water, and I wasn’t sure if it was from holding back a sneeze or the memory of her late friend. She handed me the receipt, and then promptly patted at her eyes with a clean tissue. “Perks of being friends with the owner. Well, it was a perk. I’ll call as soon as I’m done. Shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”
“Thanks.” I folded the receipt and walked to the door. I started to push it open, stopped, then turned back toward her. “Those flowers you have over there—did you get those from Connie’s?”
Her shoulders moved up and down in a shrug. “Sophia brought them in a few days ago. But where else do you get flowers in Wildewood?” Her chuckle was cut short by a sneeze.
I stepped out into the fresh air and tucked my hair behind my ears, going over my list of I don’t knows. I didn’t know what exactly had transpired between Eugene and Vargas. I assumed it had to do with Peaceful Acres. I didn’t know where the flowers came from and if it was even important. I rubbed my temple in a circular motion, trying to make a connection with basically no information.
I pulled the perfume sample out of my pocket, tipping it back and forth, watching the purple liquid move. Only Sasha had received a sample of the perfume, because, well, it stunk. But she was dead, so she couldn’t have killed or kidnapped Eugene. Jessica sure as hell loved the perfume, and she’s the only other person I had smelled it on. But was the perfume even important? What motive did Jessica have to hurt her best friend and Eugene?
Maybe she wasn’t working alone . . .
I looked out into the street, scanning the snow-covered square. It was too cold to hang out on the lawn, though a few kids were throwing around misshapen snowballs. Their laughter brought a smile to my lips. A rogue snowball flew toward Town Hall, hitting the back end of a police cruiser. Could the sheriff be involved? I placed the sample back in my pocket and decided to make one last stop before I went back to the café.
I poked around outside of Connie’s Flowers, searching the wide vases for purple flowers. Most of what was on the cart outside were red carnations, roses, and white gardenias. Nothing like what I had seen in the bathroom at Town Hall. The doors slid open when I stepped in front of them.
It was almost as cold inside as it was outside. I pulled my jacket tighter around my waist and swore I could see my breath. There was a full wall lined with display refrigerators with flowers of all colors stuffed in their vases. Boxes of premade corsages and boutonnieres. There were flowers around the store I knew weren’t in season, such as the row of tulips in every color imaginable. There was even a tall floor vase filled with sunflowers.
I didn’t know how she did it, but Connie always had off-season flowers.
The middle of the store was set up with premade arrangements in different sized vases. I walked to them, trying to find the one from Luna’s boutique and Town Hall. None of them looked right. There were bouquets that were purple and white. Red and purple. Even a few that were red and white. But none with all three colors together.
Looking over at the counter, Connie still hadn’t appeared. She must be in the back; I could hear movement: the shuffling of feet and what sounded like loud pops that I hoped was her cutting stems.
On the wall opposite the refrigerators, flowers were color-coded. I approached the containers of purple flowers, trying to find any with similar petals. A curved petal, the tip folded toward the middle, kind of resembling a hood. It wasn’t a small petal, not like one from an aster. The petal of the pansy was spread open.
I ran my finger down the petal of a wisteria flower. It wasn’t as deep of a purple, but the shape was as close as I could find. My finger didn’t tingle, didn’t go numb. It wasn’t that one. Maybe Sophia hadn’t gotten the flowers from Connie’s after all. Or Jessica just told me that to throw me off her trail.
Connie popped out of the backroom. Her straight, silver hair was cut in a layered bob. She had a
bright-green apron tied around her slender waist that read “Connie’s Flowers” with little sunflowers embroidered on it. She set a short, round vase on the counter filled with the combination of flowers I had been looking for.
“Riley! What a surprise!” She pushed her black, coke-bottle glasses up her nose. “Have you decided The Witches Brew could use some flowers?” She grinned, giving me a wink.
“Actually . . . I was looking for this arrangement.” I turned the vase, inspecting the flowers.
“Well, you’re in luck. It’s the last one.” Her grin widened.
“Is this the same one from Luna’s and Town Hall?” It looked identical but I wasn’t an expert on flowers.
Connie rubbed her chin, tilting her head, and gazed at the ceiling. “I think so. Let me check.”
She grabbed a large invoice binder out from behind the counter. It made a loud thud as she dropped it. Opening the cover, she turned quickly to a page labeled “December.” She ran her finger down the list, and I was surprised at just how long it was. Her finger finally stopped, and she moved her glasses down to the tip of her nose.
“Yes. This is the exact arrangement.” She leaned a bit closer to the page. “Oh, dear.”
“What’s wrong?” I stood on my toes, trying to see what she was seeing. Her handwriting was messy, and I couldn’t make out anything.
“It looks like I can’t sell this one to you after all. The mayor ordered a replacement.” She looked up, her eyes going from one side of the shop to the other. “Where is Daisy?”
“The daisies are—” I started to point, my hand falling short. She meant her employee. She had two girls working for her. Word around the rumor mill said they were her granddaughters but she would never confirm or deny it. “She wasn’t here when I came inside.”
Connie rolled her eyes and sighed.
“Would you like me to take it to the mayor? I really don’t mind.”
“That girl is driving me up the wall. She’s always missing. I’m surprised she got the first one delivered on time.” Connie huffed. She walked to the edge of the counter and pulled on a red ribbon. Cutting it at the length she wanted, she walked back to the vase and tied a neat bow. “I would greatly appreciate it.”
“It’s my pleasure.” I took the vase, holding it away from my body just in case. “Could you do me a favor though?”
“Anything. You’re saving me from an earful from Esther.” Connie chortled.
“Would you call Maisie for me at the café, and let her know I’ll be a little late.”
“Consider it done.” Connie thanked me as I walked out of the flower shop.
I touched one of the petals, and again, nothing happened. At this point, I was starting to think the original arrangement had been tampered with. Was it possible that Daisy had added, or switched out flowers in the bathroom at Town Hall? The way my fingers went numb after touching the petal from the hardware store made me believe it had been used to subdue Eugene. Could the same have happened to Sasha?
I wish I knew what it was. I could’ve asked Connie, but I wasn’t sure I could trust her. I liked Connie, but I didn’t ‘know’ Connie.
I walked into Town Hall and saw Esther disappear into her office. She poked her head out of the doorway, her eyes narrowed at me. “What are you doing here?”
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I held out the flower arrangement. “Connie asked me to bring these to you.”
“What happened to what’s her name?” Esther took the vase.
“Daisy? I don’t know.” I followed her to the receptionist’s desk where she gently set the vase down. “Do you remember if she was the one who brought the flowers here before the Christmas party?”
Esther shrugged her shoulders, messing with the flowers to change how Connie had arranged them. “I couldn’t tell you.” Her hands stilled, and she looked at me. “Why? What are you getting yourself into?”
She could see right through my questions. My cheeks heated, and I bit my bottom lip. “No reason.” I said a quick goodbye then made a B-line for the door. The sound of Esther’s heels chased after me, and her hand slapped the door before I had a chance to open it. Damn, she was fast when she wanted to be.
“Stay out of it, Riley.” And that was all she said. She turned around and walked back to her flowers.
I stood in the doorway for a second, my mouth hanging open as I decided if I should question her statement. Did she know what was going on? She had certainly caught on quick.
“Goodbye, Riley,” Esther said, making my decision for me.
Pulling my hood over my head, I jogged across the street toward the square. What the hell was going on in this town? Did everyone know something I didn’t? To be honest, I wasn’t surprised by Esther. She knew everything. Well, almost everything. But did she know who killed Sasha? Was she protecting someone?
Pete yawned as he walked into the café. He shuffled to the barstool he always sat on. I really should just write “reserved for Pete” on it. Blinking his eyes slowly, he yawned again. I poured a cup of decaf for him. It was late, he had just gotten off his shift. It was a new change in his café routine.
Pete accepted it and looked into the cup before glancing up at me. “John thinks I should start drinking chamomile tea after work.” He poured sugar into the cup. “But I told him I had already switched to decaf and he can shove his chamomile you know where.” He chuckled.
“You did not.” I smiled, knowing Pete would never say anything like that.
“No, but I thought it.” He took a sip, grimacing behind the rim.
I chuckled. Should I tell him it all tastes the same? I probably shouldn’t, otherwise, he might tell me to shove my decaf “you know where.” Instead, I asked, “How’s the sheriff doing?”
It was almost closing time. Maisie and Zach were in the kitchen doing dishes. There were a few stragglers sitting around the dining room and a couple of teenagers lounging together on the plush, black couch. The evening shift had gone by quickly, which wasn’t surprising with how busy we had stayed. I was definitely not regretting hiring Zach. He was picking up the menu quicker than I expected.
“He’s a mess. But who wouldn’t be after finding out how his wife passed?” Pete sighed into his cup.
Tapping my finger to my lips, I tried not to seem too interested, but couldn’t pass up the opportunity. “I can’t imagine how he’s feeling. How did she . . .”
“The medical examiner called this afternoon, ya know, the one from Twin Falls.” We didn’t have our own medical examiner, so of course, our neighbor, Twin Falls, did. Pete leaned closer to me. “She suspects poison.”
Poison? That would explain the lack of blood at the scene. Though it didn’t explain why Sheriff Vargas had immediately assumed murder.
“Wow.” My movements slowed. I didn’t know what to say to him that wouldn’t give up certain ‘illegal’ things I’d been up to recently.
“She found a flower petal in Sasha’s throat. Can you believe that? A flower!” Pete’s voice echoed through the room, and the couple on the couch shifted to look at him.
I motioned for him to lower his voice, but now I knew the petal I had found really was important. It was the key to finding out who killed Sasha and, presumably, Eugene. If she had been poisoned by a plant, Eugene was probably not with us anymore. My stomach knotted and I took in a deep breath, trying to keep the tears from my eyes.
“That’s terrible,” my voice broke, betraying the cool demeanor I tried to portray.
“Sure is.” Pete stood, taking the last sip of his coffee. He made another face as if the coffee truly tasted differently. “Thanks for the nightcap.” He slid me a few dollars.
After the last customer paid, I retreated into my office and opened the top drawer of my desk. The petal, still in the plastic bag, laid on top of all the other junk I kept in the drawer. Dropping into my chair, I stared at it, wondering what plant it could be from and how it had come to Wildewood.
I needed to go to
the library—I didn’t own a computer, not even a cell phone. Since I came into my powers, electronics had a tendency to get zapped when I touched them. It was something I missed from my days before Wildewood, but not something I was willing to trade back.
I checked my watch. Damn, the library had just closed. I would leave early tomorrow, and hopefully, I’d get to the bottom of it. I tapped a finger to my chin. I should probably bring someone with me who could help me use the computer. Tessa might be willing, but she also might tell me to stay out of it. I grabbed the plastic bag, shoving it into my pocket, and pushed the drawer shut.
“See you tomorrow.” Maisie pulled the front door closed after Zach walked through. She folded his apron, a smile touching her lips, as she turned away from the door. She looked up at me, trying to hide her smile, but the creases around her eyes gave her away.
“Ready?” I grabbed my jacket and bag, double-checking to make sure the skeleton key was in the small, zippered pocket in the back. I was ready to go home. I had so much on my mind from the gift of our secret admirer, learning that Sasha had been poisoned to Ethan and his secrets. It was truly exhausting.
Snow tracked onto the hardwood as we scrambled to get in from the cold. The look Maisie had given me when I asked if she wanted to ‘ride’ home could’ve killed me. I pulled my jacket off, more snow falling onto the ground, and hung my bag up. Maisie made a brisk walk to the kitchen, grabbing two packets of hot cocoa.
I headed for the stairs, stopping when I heard a whisper. Slowly turning, I walked back down the steps, my socked feet slipping when I got to the bottom. I grabbed onto the railing to pull myself back up. The whispering continued, and I followed the voice toward the back of the house.
Agatha walked through the back door, and I yelped. “Good grief!”
“What’s wrong?” Maisie came running into the hallway.
“I think we need to put a bell around your neck.” I flicked my eyes to the ceiling. I could not count how many times she’d popped up out of the blue and almost given me a heart attack.