Perilous Paws (Kitten Witch Cozy Mystery Book 8)

by Corrine Winters

  “There’s no computers, no files, no nothing,” Cedric said. He opened a mini fridge in the lobby area and gagged, face twisting up in disgust. “They left in a hurry. Somebody forgot their sushi and an open can of Pibb Xtra.”

  Ember bent over to pick up a dusty penny from the floor. She palmed it and looked about, her eyes squinting into intense slits.

  She called on her arcane vision to scout the area. No magic of great import had been worked in the old bread store. There were faint traces here and there, but nothing she could pin down.

  “Where did they keep the food?” Ember glanced around. “They catered an event with over fifty people attending. There must have been a place they prepared and stored the food.”

  She poured extra energy into her glowing flame, and lifted her palm in the air. The flame grew larger, brighter, lighting up the interior of the bread store bright as day.

  “Look.” Cedric moved over against the far wall. “See the scrape marks in the paint? I’m guessing there used to be a table sitting here.”

  Ember pointed at the floor. “Careful, dear. Those look like mushrooms on the floor there.”

  Cedric arched a brow. “Dear?”

  Ember slapped a palm over her face. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s all right. I kind of like it.” Cedric squatted down on the floor, covering his face with a handkerchief. “Looks like Faerie Death’s Head Caps to me. Dried up, though.”

  “Be extra careful. They’re more potent when they’re debrided.” Ember cast a small charm and a bubble appeared between her cupped hands. “Stand aside for a moment.”

  Cedric moved and she sent the glowing, translucent bubble down to the floor. It absorbed the chunks of purplish-green mushroom caps off the floor, containing them within its belly. Ember floated her bubble out the door.

  “What are you doing? That’s evidence.”

  “It’s deadly evidence. Besides, it’s not personal enough for psychometry, just like the penny I found.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Ember and Cedric returned to their search. Cedric turned up a business card with a phone number scrawled on the back in red ink. He showed it to Ember, who shrugged. “I don’t recognize the number. Do you?”

  “No. I have no clue who it belongs to.”

  Ember’s eyes narrowed. “I know how we can find out.”

  She took out her phone and dialed the number. After a few moments, she heard Ron Olberman’s voice. “Is this the service? I did specify Hungarian Gymnast, didn’t I?”

  “Sorry, wrong number.” Ember hung up and gave Cedric a wide eyed stare. “It’s Ron Olberman’s phone. His personal line, in fact. He mistook me for an, um, a business associate.”

  “You’re sure it was him?”

  Ember nodded. “Positive.”

  “Good enough for me. Why would a temp agency have the number of a billionaire CEO on a business card?”

  Ember cocked an eyebrow. “Good question. Could mean Olberman was complicit with poisoning the people at the HOA association.”

  “Are you sure it couldn’t have been an accident? I mean, look how slapdash this temp agency must have been. They have a Shasta machine instead of Coke or Pepsi. Maybe they didn’t know they were feeding people dangerous stuff?”

  Ember shook her head. “I seriously doubt that scenario, Cedric. The mushrooms are hard to find, hard to prepare without hurting yourself, and you need a decent amount if you’re going to cook them down and still expect lethal potency. This was a deliberate act.”

  Cedric nodded. “All right, you’ve convinced me. You see anything else of interest here?”

  Ember blew air out from her lips, moving her bangs about as she stared at the overturned recycling bin. “Just this. I was putting it off until last because I’m pretty sure somebody spit their tobacco juice in it.”

  “Madame, allow me,” Cedric said, lifting away the offending pages.

  “And they say chivalry is dead. You’re all just killing it real slow…” Ember squinted as she saw something fall out of the bin as Cedric disposed of the soiled papers. “Hang on. This looks like a list of names…”

  “What is it?”

  “A work schedule…” Ember gasped. “And Ash’s name is on it!”

  “Ash worked for Manpower?” Cedric glanced over at the far wall, where they’d found the mushrooms. “Then…”

  Cedric didn’t want to say it, but he didn’t have to. Ember’s mind rang out with the thought over and over again.

  Did my sister feed people poisonous mushrooms on purpose?

  Sixteen

  Ember leaned against the shaded side of the old bread store; a cold plastic cup of gas station iced tea in her hands. She pressed it up against her sternum, enjoying the way it spread cooling relief over her sweating skin.

  Nearby, Cedric spoke on the radio to his deputies, trying to track down the current locations of the people scheduled to work for Manpower. Ember didn’t want to consider the implications of Ash’s name being on that list, but she had little choice.

  As she herself had told Cedric, the mushroom poisoning couldn’t have been an accident. It had to have been deliberate. Given Ash’s powers, skills, and knowledge, it would stand to reason she would know how to find the rare mushrooms, then how to prepare and administer them to maximum effect.

  It also stood to reason that she would seek to leave town rapidly after having done so. Hence the vanishing act. Ember couldn’t fathom Ash doing such a wicked deed. Even if Ash did like to walk on the wild side, she drew the line at using dark magic or hurting people other than in self-defense.

  Given Cedric’s memory loss, Ember toyed with the idea that someone had cast a spell on Ash’s mind as well. One that made her do things, like a puppet. Or a possession. When Tom had attacked Ash, he’d claimed to have been possessed by an entity. Maybe it had gone after Ash once it failed to defeat her with Tom’s body?

  Ember still hadn’t figured it out when Cedric returned, the schedule folded over in his hand and a number two pencil tucked behind his ear.

  “Interestingly enough, Manpower Etc. seems to have had one particular type for their choice of employees.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Ex-convicts. Every single one of the names on here other than your sister’s has a police record. Some of them have even done hard time.”

  Ember scowled. “That’s suspicious.”

  “Yeah, maybe. I suggest we pay them a visit, one by one, and see if any of them has seen Ash.”

  Ember brightened. “Yes, please. That would be ideal.”

  They returned to the air-conditioned comfort of the squad car and drove out to the first address on their list. Parker Lewis was nearing seventy, his gap-toothed maw crooked and spewing barely intelligible profanities when they strode up.

  “Oh, son of—” he hacked and spat in the dirt. “Tell my parole officer I done went to my AA meeting!”

  “I’m not here about your parole, Mr. Lewis.” Cedric came up the steps of Lewis’ porch and stood over the venerable man. “I want to know about the work you did for a temp agency called Manpower Etc.”

  “Those bastards fired me the first day,” he sputtered. “Said I kept getting spit in the food.”

  Cedric wiped his face, a disgusted look marring his features. “I see. Thank you for your time.”

  “Wait, Mr. Lewis. Do you remember a woman working there named Ash?”

  “I think so,” Parker said, his face scrunching up. “Pretty girl. Did the salad bar, I think.”

  Ember cringed. She and Cedric returned to his car and climbed inside. She sighed as the cool air blew across her sweating skin.

  “I hope the rest of them are more useful,” Cedric muttered.

  “And less spitty,” Ember agreed.

  They interviewed the next subject, Tracy Goodfoot. The native woman wasn’t much older than Ember, yet had four children, three of whom wrestled about the living room of her trailer as she spoke with them.
r />   “Yeah, I remember that crummy job. Some guy and his girlfriend were in charge.”

  Ember’s eyes widened. “Some guy and his girlfriend? What was the girlfriend’s name?”

  “Ashley, I think,” Tracy said, her face scrunching up in thought. “She didn’t talk much, but she seemed sweet. Except when her boyfriend was around, then she was just as big of a jerk as he was.”

  “This boyfriend have a name?” Cedric asked.

  “All I ever heard her call him was Big Daddy,” Tracy said with a shrug. “Sounded like a gang name or something. Or a hip hop star. You know how the world is these days.”

  “What did you serve to the HOA meeting attendees?” Cedric asked.

  “I had buffet experience from Golden Corral, so they put me on serving out the chicken.”

  “What did the girlfriend, Ashley, serve?” Cedric asked.

  “Um, I think she was doing the salad stuff. Greens and vegetables.”

  “Mushrooms?”

  Tracey nodded. “Yeah, I think I saw some mushrooms there, too. Not the fun kind, though, if you catch my drift.”

  Tracy laughed while Cedric sighed. “You realize I’m law enforcement and can’t laugh at jokes like that, right?”

  Tracy got a hold of herself. “Ahem. Anyway, I only worked there the one day. Got paid in cash by Big Daddy, and never heard from them again.”

  Ember was tight lipped as they drove to the last location on their list. Cedric glanced over at her, concern writ large on his handsome face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s looking more and more like Ash killed those people. Killed Rose and Kevin Whitman.”

  “Let’s not assume anything,” Cedric said.

  “Yeah. Mantra of the investigator. Only what else am I supposed to think?”

  “For now, you can give Ash the benefit of the doubt.”

  Ember smiled. “You’re right. Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  They pulled up outside the home of Dennis Helms, the last name on their list. Ember frowned as they came up the sidewalk. “There’s four newspapers piled up on the porch.”

  “I see it.” Cedric drew his pistol and came up to the door. He rapped hard on the aluminum surface. “Mr. Helms? Police.”

  He tried the door and it swung inward. Cedric coughed. Ember covered her mouth with her sleeve.

  The smell of death was unmistakable.

  Seventeen

  Ember brought a barrier spell into existence, blocking both hostile magics and the scent of rot. She spoke a word and another witchfire bloomed into existence, flying inside the trailer to heartlessly, noiselessly explode. The inside of the trailer glowed, to the point the walls seemed translucent.

  “The coast is clear,” Ember said. “There’s no one in there. No one living, anyway.”

  Cedric nodded. He holstered his pistol and entered the trailer. Squatting down next to a huddled shape, Cedric shook his head sadly.

  “Dead. At least long enough to have keeled over the same time as our other victims. I’m betting if you cast a detection spell, we’ll find more of the poisonous mushrooms in his system.”

  Ember sighed. “Very well.”

  She stepped into the trailer, trying not to let the stench overcome her. Mr. Helms had not lived the most hygienic of existences before his demise. She cast the spell and nodded when she saw the purple traces in his bloodstream.

  “Yes, same thing. Poisonous mushrooms.”

  Ember gratefully exited the trailer and walked down the short steps, exulting in the fresh air. Cedric followed, calling on his radio for the coroner to come pick up the body.

  They waited in the car, air conditioner blasting, until the coroner arrived. Cedric and the coroner exchanged words, and then he surprised Ember by getting back behind the wheel.

  “Don’t you have to stay and conduct an investigation?”

  “We’ve got more pressing matters. If the coroner rules the cause of death is different than what it appears, we’ll look into doing a thorough grid search of that revolting trailer. If it doesn’t appear different, I’ll consider it a relief.”

  “What’s our more pressing matter?”

  “Ron Olberman,” Cedric said grimly. “Someone at Manpower had his personal phone number on hand. Given that our three victims all attended the meeting, and all are homeowners in the area he wants to glom onto, I’d say we’ve got enough to rattle his cage a little.”

  “Can you arrest him?”

  Cedric shook his head. “Not a chance. I need something more solid. I’m hoping he’ll let something slip, maybe even come clean.”

  They drove back to Olberman’s offices after calling his secretary to verify he would be there. Ember’s belly gurgled with hunger when they rode the elevator up to the fifteenth floor, drawing a stare from Cedric.

  “What? It’s been a long time since we ate.”

  “What about that tamale place off the interstate? We could swing by there after we talk to Olberman.”

  Ember grinned. “It’s a date.”

  They entered the office suite and found most of the cubicles empty. Cedric approached the harried-looking secretary outside of Olberman’s door. She put a call on hold, answered the phone a second time, and then put that call on hold as well before addressing them.

  “Oh, Sheriff, I didn’t see your name on my appointments list.”

  “That’s probably because I don’t have an appointment. I’d like to speak with Mr. Olberman, please.”

  She swallowed, clearly fearing disturbing her boss but not wanting to refuse a police officer. “Very well. Let me tell him you’re coming.”

  “Just a moment,” Ember said as the receptionist reached for the phone on the cradle. “Where is everyone?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Your staff. This place was full the other day.”

  The receptionist frowned. “Mr. Olberman fired most of them. Caught them standing around the water cooler talking about trivia instead of working.”

  Ember pursed her lips in distaste. Ron Olberman seemed like a real piece of work.

  They were buzzed in the door to his office. Olberman looked up and grimaced.

  “Why are you here, Sheriff Jamison? I already answered all your questions.”

  “You can tell us how come the temp agency hired to cater your event has your personal phone number.”

  Cedric flopped the glossy business card down onto the glace surface of Olberman’s desk. Olberman leaned forward and squinted at the card.

  “Yep, that’s my handwriting all right. I had Reggie at the Cuisine King pass along my card to the temp agency.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve been looking into hiring temps to save money. They get the same work done for minimum wage, and you don’t have to pay them benefits. Capitalism is great.”

  Cedric smiled, but it was strained. “So, you’re saying you have had no direct contact with the members of the Temp agency or its management?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.” Olberman glared up at Cedric, then leaned back in his desk and scoffed. “In fact, that’s the last thing I’m saying without a lawyer present. You’re not roping me into your wild conspiracy theories.”

  Cedric chuckled. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Olberman. We’ll be in touch soon.”

  Ember followed Cedric out of the office. He shook his head in disgust as they entered the elevator.

  “I’ve got nothing solid on him and he knows it,” Cedric muttered.

  They rode to the ground floor in sullen silence. Ember was almost as upset by Olberman’s cruel behavior and attitude as his possible connection to the poisoning crime. Firing his staff on a whim? Replacing his workers with temps so he could save some money?

  “I’ve got an idea,” Cedric said. “It might lead us to the people behind Manpower.”

  Ember perked up. “What’s that?”

  “All we have to do is talk to the man who owns the old bread store building,” Cedri
c said with a grin. “And I happen to know where he lives.”

  Eighteen

  Ember bounced along in the passenger seat beside Cedric, her face creased with an incredulous scowl.

  “You want to tell me how you know we’re going to the right place this time again?”

  Cedric shrugged. “It’s simple, really. Back in the day the Bread Store was called the Dilly Dally Bread Store on account of it being owned by the Dilly Dally Bakery company.”

  “I got that part, you don’t have to…” Ember’s voice trailed off, because Cedric was off again.

  “…that’s when the Dilly Dally Baker Company went under for insider trading. But Mean Old Lady Mrs. Hickenbottom turned out to be an angel, because she bought the—”

  Ember held up a hand. “I’ll admit I zoned out there a couple of times while you were telling me this story, Cedric, but did you call her Mean Old Lady Mrs. Hickenbottom?”

  “Well, yeah. What did you call her?”

  “Mrs. HIckenbottom!” Ember said, flabbergasted.

  “Well, that was her nickname.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since always,” Cedric swallowed, hard. “I’m guessing this is something I’ve never told you before.”

  “You’re guessing right.”

  “And I’m guessing that you have fond memories of Mean Old Lady Mrs…”

  Ember’s scowl intensified.

  “…that is, Mrs. Hickenbottom, God rest her soul.”

  “You’re batting a thousand, Cedric.”

  “Sorry. I guess I was kind of a rascal when I was a kid.”

  “Didn’t you and Bobby Joe McIntyre bust out the pencil factory windows with slingshots when you were kids?”

  Cedric laughed hard. “I’m surprised I told you that story.”

  “It came out in bits and pieces.”