8 The Witch Who Saw a Murder

by Emma Belmont

  The Witch Who Saw A Murder

  Pixie Point Bay Book 8

  Emma Belmont

  Contents

  EMMA ONLINE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Copyright

  EMMA ONLINE

  Emma loves hearing from her readers!

  You can contact her at the links below.

  Website: emmabelmont.com

  Newsletter: emmabelmont.com/newsletter

  Thanks!

  1

  Maris carried the blanket, Bear carried the basket, and Cookie brought the thermoses. Though the Towne Plaza was enormous, it was starting to look like the beach in summer, with colorful ground coverings and coolers everywhere.

  “Goodness,” Maris said. “I didn’t realize Pixie Point Bay Picnic Day was going to be so popular.”

  “They always are,” Cookie said, smiling and looking around. Her bright floral dress matched the surroundings perfectly. “I haven’t been to one of these in years.”

  It wasn’t often that Ruth “Cookie” Calderon came to town at all. The B&B’s chef always said that she preferred home—particularly her kitchen and garden—to just about anywhere.

  Picnic Day, however, was an exception.

  “How about here?” Maris asked her companions. She came to a stop and surveyed the neatly trimmed patch of grass about midway to the Oriental gazebo.

  “Fine by me,” the diminutive chef said, looking at her, and then up at Bear.

  Their outsized handyman grinned at her. “Looks good.”

  He easily stood two heads above them and carried the heavily laden picnic basket as though it was a lunchbox. His neatly trimmed beard didn’t hide his smile. Nor did his bib overalls hide a burgeoning paunch at the midriff.

  “Great,” Maris said, and unfurled the checkered blanket.

  “Is that the new pizzeria?” Cookie asked, looking in its direction.

  Located in a building that was even narrower than the medical clinic, wedged between Castaways and Superior Hardware, was the newest establishment in town: Pizza del Popolo.

  Maris glanced in that direction as she continued to spread out the blanket. “That’s the one,” she confirmed.

  Cookie nodded. “It’s about time.”

  Bear sniffed the air. “I can smell it.” He arched his heavy brows. “It smells good.”

  Satisfied with the blanket, Maris gazed in the pizzeria’s direction. “I’m happy to say it tastes good too.” Bear swiveled his head back to her. “He’s having his soft opening this week, and I was invited for a sample.” She grinned at him. “It’s good to be the owner of the Pixie Point Bay Lighthouse and B&B.”

  Not only was it her job to ensure the comfort of her guests, but they often asked for restaurant recommendations. She regularly sampled new menu offerings, even at places she’d eaten many times.

  “Shall we have a seat?” Cookie said. As she sat down on the blanket, Bear placed the basket next to her. “Thank you, Bear.”

  Maris paused to scan the area. “Oh, there he is,” she said, and waved.

  Mac saw her, waved back, and headed their way. She watched him stride over. It always pleased her to see him dressed in something other than his uniform. Six feet tall and athletically built, Sheriff McKenna of Medio County had the kind of rugged good looks that made hearts flutter. His gray eyes and matching salt and pepper hair only added to his charm.

  She held out her hands to him as he approached. He took them and leaned in for a quick peck on the cheek.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” Maris said.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it,” he replied before pulling away and looking down at her. “You look lovely.”

  She’d made sure to wear the most flattering skirt and blouse that she owned, and had taken extra time with her hair. Despite having aimed for exactly that compliment, heat rose to her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  Mac nodded to the chef. “Cookie. It’s good to see you.”

  Cookie had opened the basket, but paused, smiling as she shielded her eyes from the sun. “Nice to see you too, Sheriff.”

  He reached across Maris and offered his hand to Bear. “Good morning, Bear. How’s it going?”

  “Very well, Mac,” he said, shaking the sheriff’s hand. “And you?”

  Mac grinned at him, and then at Maris. “Never better.”

  Bear gave him a little nod as he nimbly descended into a cross-legged position, facing Cookie. Not as light as the chef nor as young as their handyman, Maris took her time getting to the ground, with a helping hand from Mac. Since arriving back in Pixie Point Bay she felt more healthy than she had in decades. With her weight steadily if slowly dropping, she expected that her cholesterol would be getting to a good range too. But it didn’t mean she was any more limber. When she finally sat down, Mac joined her, and Cookie started to unpack the basket.

  “Maris, would you pour the tea please?” She handed her the plastic mugs, and then a thermos.

  “My pleasure,” Maris said. She’d just been unscrewing the plastic top when a voice assailed her from behind.

  “Maris,” he said. “Ciao, Bella!”

  Before she turned her head, she had to smile. “Massimo,” she said, seeing him approach. “Oh!” she exclaimed. He was barreling toward them with a stack of pizza boxes in his arms.

  In his early fifties, the owner of the new pizzeria wasn’t particularly a big man but he’d impressed Maris as ‘solid.’ The hint of a beard at the jaw line and his short mustache were only flecked with gray. But his hair—shaved close at the sides and combed back on top—was a lustrous chestnut brown. The short haircut emphasized the one cauliflower ear, and Maris had previously noticed his bent nose.

  As he reached the blanket, he quickly crouched and set down the pizzas. Kneeling next to her, he leaned closer for an air kiss on one cheek, then the other.

  “How wonderful to see you,” he said. Without waiting for introductions, he extended a hand to Cookie. “I am Massimo Cuore, but please call me Max.”

  She smiled at him as they shook. “Cookie Calderon.”

  He paused, his mouth open in shock as he glanced at Maris. “The chef?” Maris smiled and nodded. He took Cookie’s hand in both of his and gave her a little bow. “It is an honor to finally meet you. I have heard about you…everywhere.”

  “Oh, well,” Cookie said, her face flushing pink. “That’s very kind.” She glanced down at their hands, looking more flustered than Maris had ever seen the older woman.

  “Oh, pardon!” he said, and let her hand go. “I am in disbelief that I am actually meeting you.”

  When the diminutive chef seemed lost for words, Maris said, “And this is Sheriff Daniel McKenna.”

  Mac shook the chef’s hand. “We’ve actually already met,” the sheriff said. “Good to see you.”

  “You’ve met?” M
aris asked.

  Max nodded. “At the County Recorders office.” He grinned at Mac. “I was lost but luckily the sheriff found me.”

  It was no wonder that the crows feet at the corners of Max’s dark eyes were deep because, as always, his smile was enormous. As usual he wore a traditional white chef’s shirt, but modified with a stripe of bright green running down one side of his chest, and a stripe of red down the other.

  “And may I introduce Bear Orsino.” She gestured to the big man. “The world’s most accomplished handyman.”

  Max thrust his hand forward, peering into Bear’s face. “Orsino? From the old country?”

  Bear took the man’s hand. “Abruzzo. My grandfather.”

  Max slapped his other hand over Bear’s enormous one and shook it vigorously. “Ho, compagno!” he exclaimed, beaming. “My family too. Maybe near Matelica?”

  Bear shook his head but grinned. “Pioraco.”

  “Oh, the mountains!” He regarded the young man. “Fitting. Very fitting.”

  “Massimo,” Maris said. “Would you–”

  “Please call me Max,” he said, putting on a hurt look. “We are friends, are we not?”

  Maris laughed a little. “Max,” she started again, “would you like to join us?”

  He put a hand over his heart as he sat back on his heels. “I am honored. Truly.” Then he reached to the boxes of pizza, took one, and handed it to her. “But I am on my tour of the plaza. Free pizza for everyone.”

  Maris cocked her head back as she accepted it. “Free pizza?”

  Cookie added, “For everyone?” She gazed around at the plaza.

  “Yes,” he said, nodding. Then he stood. “So I best go on my way.” He took them all in with a fond look. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  Maris opened the box top and took a peek. The beautiful smell of the tomato sauce and fresh crust immediately wafted up.

  “A seafood pizza?” she said, as Max bent and picked up the rest of the boxes.

  He grinned down at her. “When in Roma, eh?” Then he was off, heading toward the next blanket. “Ciao, amici!”

  “Look at that,” Cookie said, gazing down into the box with awe in her voice. “Are those scallops?”

  “And baby shrimp and crab meat,” Mac said nodding.

  “I can smell the garlic,” Bear said.

  Maris was about to set the box down so they could all take a slice, but then she remembered the basket. Cookie had spent the morning getting their picnic ready.

  When the chef noticed her gaze, she closed and patted its wicker top. “It’ll keep.” Then she eyed the pizza. “Let’s give this a try.”

  Maris quickly set the box down and they each took a slice. Bear folded his piece and was the first to take a bite. “Mmm hmm,” he murmured.

  Maris had already sampled Max’s triple mushroom pizza earlier in the week. But as she took her first bite, she knew immediately that this was completely different. He’d changed the tomato sauce to compliment the seafood—just a tad on the zesty side.

  Mac nodded as he chewed. He gave Maris the thumbs up sign.

  Cookie was next. As the chef sampled her slice, Maris saw the gears turning behind the dark and glittering eyes. She covered her mouth as she said, “Oh, that is good.” She looked down at her slice, analyzing it. “Asiago instead of Parmesan. Very nice choice. It’s–”

  “Pig!” said a woman’s shrill voice. “Chauvinist pig!”

  Not ten yards away, a woman was shaking her fist at someone.

  “Who is that?” Maris asked. She didn’t recognize either of them.

  “Rudy Schmid,” Bear said.

  “The owner of Superior Hardware,” Cookie said, glaring at him with distaste. She peered at the pair a while longer before returning to her pizza. “I don’t know the woman.”

  The tall man standing in front of her, on what was presumably his blanket, had his arms folded over his chest and was laughing. He shook his head and said something Maris couldn’t make out. The woman was so angry that she was shaking.

  Maris looked back at Bear and Cookie, who were eating their pizza, making her frown. “Wait a minute,” she said, reluctantly setting her slice down, just as Mac did. “That woman just called him a pig, and is obviously livid. Am I the only one bothered about it?”

  Bear shrugged. “It’s Rudy.” He took another bite.

  Cookie nodded. “He is a pig.”

  Maris stared at her. “What?”

  “That’s it!” the woman screamed. As Maris watched, she spun on her heel, stalked off—and tripped.

  “Oh no,” Maris said, as the angry woman went down in a pile. Thank goodness they were on grass. She must have tripped on someone’s blanket.

  Mac shot to his feet but a young man nearby went over to help her up. But when he bent over her, he crouched down. His panicked face, as he scanned the plaza, said everything.

  “Ambulance,” he yelled. “Someone get an ambulance!”

  2

  Maris jumped to her feet and hurried over with Mac, as did Jill Maxwell, the nurse practitioner of the medical clinic. Mac already had his phone out and was calling emergency dispatch.

  “Joy?” Jill said, dropping to her knees beside the woman. “Joy, can you hear me?” But the poor woman had fallen face down, head turned to the side, and wasn’t moving. Jill bent low to look into her face. “Joy, it’s Jill, can you hear me?”

  The nurse quickly removed a small vinyl pouch with a red cross on it from her back pocket. As she took out a pair of gloves from it and snapped them on, she said to Mac, “Her eyes are open but she’s not responsive.”

  She bent back down, close to Joy’s face. From where Maris stood behind Jill, she could see that, although the woman’s eyes were open, they were drooping and her entire face was slack.

  “Joy!” Minako Page exclaimed, coming up behind them. She stopped beside Maris, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh no.”

  “Ambulance is on the way,” Mac said, crouching down on Joy’s other side.

  “I’m going to touch your shoulders, Joy,” Jill said to her, laying her hands on them. “Can you feel this?” Again there was no response. She glanced at Mac. “I’d rather not move her, in case of spinal or head injury.” She stared at Joy’s back. “She’s not breathing.”

  Maris felt a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach. Minako clutched her arm.

  “Joy, I’m going to check your airway,” Jill said, using her fingers to open the woman’s mouth. She tilted her head, and lowered the jaw. “It’s clear.”

  Maris realized that the entire plaza had gone still, several people standing, and all eyes on Jill. Minako’s husband Alfred had appeared next to her. “Is she injured?”

  “No choice,” Jill said to Mac. “I need to turn her over.”

  Moving in tandem, as though their steady movements had been drilled into them, Jill moved Joy’s arms upward, and Mac crossed her legs at the ankle.

  “On three,” Jill said, as she placed her hand alongside Joy’s jaw. “One.” Mac grasped Joy’s pants at the hip. “Two.” Jill used her other hand to grasp Joy’s shoulder. Mac placed a stabilizing hand against her back. “Three.”

  As though Joy was as light as a child, the sheriff and nurse rolled her smoothly over. Jill snatched something else from her vinyl pouch. It was a clear plastic mask labelled “CPR MASK” with a small circular respirator in the center. Deftly, Jill looped the elastic bands around Joy’s ears. She tilted her head back, lowered her head to Joy’s, and blew into the respirator. Maris saw Joy’s chest rise, and then fall. Mac put gloved fingers to Joy’s neck. Maris had no idea when he’d put on the gloves. Jill gave Joy another rescue breath, watched her chest rise, fall, and then stay still.

  “Come on,” the nurse muttered. “Come on.” She gave Joy another breath.

  “No pulse,” Mac said. He immediately bent over Joy’s chest, placed one hand over another in the middle of it, and pushed.

  Maris turned to the Pages whose faces
had gone white. She stood in front of them, blocking their view. “Where is your blanket?”

  Minako blinked at her. “What?”

  Maris looked at Alfred. “Take Minako back to your blanket and sit down.” Taller than her, Alfred was still staring at Joy over Maris’s head. She put a hand on his arm. “Alfred, take Minako back to your blanket.”

  As though he’d finally heard her, he quickly nodded. “Right.” He grasped his wife by the shoulders, and turned her around. “Let’s go.”

  A siren sounded in the distance, rapidly growing closer. When she turned back to Mac and Jill, they were still performing CPR, their faces determined but grim. Joy’s eyes, the lids still half closed, were staring up into the sun.

  The ambulance rolled into view, parked at the sidewalk, and the three person EMT crew jumped out. They ran over, kits in hand.

  “Stretcher,” Jill gasped between breaths. Mac was continuing chest compressions. More people in the plaza were standing, but no one approached.

  Two of the EMTs exchanged a quick look and ran back to the ambulance, while the other dashed over, set down his kit, and felt for a pulse. Seemingly in seconds, the other two were back with the metal gurney. Again, as though they had all rehearsed, they quickly lifted the limp woman to the stretcher. Jill and Mac both resumed CPR as the EMTs rolled the gurney. Maris lost sight of them as they entered the back of the ambulance, bringing the stretcher with them. One got out and went to the driver’s seat. The engine started up. Mac jumped down from the back, and helped Jill do the same. When he closed the door and thumped on it twice, the siren flared up again and the ambulance took off.