Chapter Twenty
It had been a while since I had gone to the Mintwood library. Since we weren’t allowed to take beverages inside, I would have to wait for my coffee fix from the Daily Brew. That was probably for the best, since Jasper brewed coffee stronger than I normally did. I already felt wired.
When I got to the library I waved to Mrs. Snicks behind the circulation desk, then got straight to work. This early in the morning, the library was quiet. There was no one working but the librarian, so there was no chance of meeting Mrs. Robertson just yet.
I felt as if I had exhausted the electronic resources in chasing down old newspaper clippings, and anyhow, Charlie would know if there was anything important in those. This morning I decided to take a different tack. I went searching for books on the history of the state, the county, and even the town of Mintwood, and spent the next hour looking through history books.
The most interesting thing I found was that the mayor’s father had been an integral part of the town decades ago. At least, before he had left in disgrace. There was something about him being accused of taking bribes that had not sat well with the then library board. He had disappeared and never been heard from again. Try as I might, I couldn’t find any information about what he’d supposedly taken bribes for.
Now his son was the longstanding mayor. Some things did come full circle.
This might be a tangent, but I couldn’t help myself, I wanted to know all about it.
That’s when I went back to the newspaper clippings, and the information I wanted turned out to be easy to find. Another half hour of reading told me that the mayor’s father had taken bribes for refusing to sell certain parcels of land to certain women. All of the women were considered to be of ill repute. As I read, I realized that one woman’s name was one I recognized. She went by the last name of Martin.
Martin was the name of a family of witches.
Coincidence? It was entirely possible; Martin is a relatively common last name. Just recently I’d had the experience of wondering whether Gracie’s grandmother, Mrs. Smith, was related to Detective Smith. I still didn’t have the answer to that one.
Be that as it may, I couldn’t help but be curious.
Had the mayor’s father been involved in keeping a witch out of town? If he knew about witches, then could the mayor also knew about then?
My heart thudded in my chest. I had had hints before, but here was more evidence that there might be more to the mayor than a white top hat.
I was beginning to think it was high time I sat him down for a heart to heart, though I wasn’t certain how it would go. If he was anything like his cat, he would probably avoid me altogether.
But I was beginning to think he knew about witches. That begged the question: How?
I sighed and closed the history book I’d been reading, not having found any other information about Witch Hunters. There certainly wasn’t a history of their affairs tucked away in the Mintwood library. I was thinking all the more strongly that I needed to find out more about them, and I was worried that my only avenue for doing so was speaking with Jasper’s grandfather.
It was only after I had left the library that I began to wonder: What if I asked some of the ghosts about the Witch Hunters? There must be some that would be willing to talk to me.
Fortunately for my nerves, that conversation would have to wait. I needed to grab a coffee and get over to Liam’s. After that, Charlie and I would go in search of the Robertsons.
Liam gushed a greeting when I showed up with a coffee for him, too. “You’re the best. Really and truly, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”
If it were possible, his secondhand store was even more of a mess than it had been the last time I’d seen it. There were more open boxes and more clothes strewn every which way, there were fewer pathways for getting around amidst the mess, and Liam looked more frantic than he ever had before. His sunken eyes kept darting from one direction to another. He might or might not have murmured, “Beaded dresses from the seventies over to the left,” when I entered.
He cradled his large cup of coffee and sat down heavily on a crate. I sat across from him after moving a pile of clothing to make room. “Are you okay?” I asked.
He shook his head. His monochrome outfit was dirty and his shoes were scuffed, both very un-Liam-like features.
“No, I picked a terrible time to do this. Both Mrs. Barnett and my mother are out of town. Typically they would have helped a ton. At least, Mrs. Barnett would have worked at the Daily Brew while Bridget came here to assist me.
“My mother always assists me. Not so right now. I had to hire some idiot to watch my store while I’m over here. Trust me, I take no pleasure in saying that. But she actually asked me how I could possibly sell anything that wasn’t brand-new! She didn’t understand how to put labels on thrift store outfits. I know, right? She clearly only shops at strip malls.
“Anyway, I’m in over my head. I appreciate all you and Charlie and Greer have done for me, but I might have to give up on this plan. I’m just not certain we’re going to make it.”
“The spring festival is still a few days away. Maybe you still have time. Charlie, Greer, and I still want to help,” I said gently.
“This isn’t your fault, darling. Greer just got engaged and has the wedding of the century to worry about. I mean, do you realize that it’s one of the biggest weddings the state is going to see? Two dynasties coming together. If only Greer wore dresses.”
I shook my head. “Don’t let her hear you talk like that. She’s going to be stressed enough as it is, but she’ll make a beautiful bride. Happiness does that. Anyway, I think she’s trying to pretend it’s going to be a backcountry wedding.”
“She may be trying to pretend a lot of things that her and Deacon’s mothers are not going to let her keep pretending. At some point she’s going to have to give in to the fact that she’s marrying Prince Charming, and that Prince Charming has a fan page and a famous family here in the county,” Liam said.
He was being a little bit over the top, but I knew he was trying to distract himself from his own stress. “Charlie is also really busy. Now she also has a boyfriend. I mean, I don’t suppose you call him that just yet?” Liam quirked an eyebrow at me.
I grinned and tried not to laugh. “Charlie is calling Hansen a lot of things, but no one has yet heard her call him her boyfriend. I think she wants to soon, though. In her heart of hearts, she knows he makes her happy. He understands her, and he doesn’t want to hold her back. In fact, he has this crazy idea that if they support each other, they’ll rise higher.”
“Altogether modern and foolish,” said Liam with a grin. He tapped his coffee against mine and took a big gulp. “I’m kind of shocked that they’ve managed to work against each other and yet so well for so long. I honestly thought that at some point Charlie would run him over and he’d be bitter about it. Instead, they’ve just worked harder because of each other. All of Charlie’s quirks, Hansen seems to adore. Well, maybe not all of them. We probably don’t know all of them. But the ones he knows about, he clearly adores.”
“I appreciate that you enjoy all of this as much as I do,” I told him.
“You know how horribly single I am. I’ve been single for a long time. I have to live vicariously through somebody else. But the good thing is that I’ve chosen you,” he said.
I was relieved to see some color returning to his cheeks with the coffee and conversation.
“Today Charlie brought up the question of where Greer’s going to live after she’s married,” ]I said. My voice softened as I looked down.
Liam’s shoulders sagged, and I had the distinct impression that he felt a lot of sympathy for me. “Yes, unfortunately, everything changes,” he said. “Sometimes we have something good and we have to give up something good. Unless of course you want Deacon to move in with you?”
I laughed out loud at that one. “I don’t think he could handle it. Living with three ladies
and sharing a bathroom might be too much even for his generous spirit.”
“Yes, the bathroom would be an issue. I do love my own bathroom. That’s partly why I never shared a house. Well, except with my mother,” Liam said.
“We aren’t just busy with boys, though,” I insisted. “There’s also a murder case going on.”
He frowned. “A recent one?”
That was a measure of how little time I’d had for Liam lately. Now I filled him in on everything we knew about Henrietta and Haley. I couldn’t exactly tell him that I had spoken with Haley, but he got the gist. He was most concerned about the fact that a fellow clothing store owner had been murdered.
“I remember when this story was in the papers, and I remember that it seemed strange at the time,” he said. “There were mixed messages about how exactly she had died. I thought that was odd. I thought they should have known what happened with the car.
“Then I realized that Detective Cutter was out of town and the one investigating was kind of incompetent. Since there was no evidence of foul play and she didn’t have any enemies, they just let it go. The whole thing got lost in the shuffle when Cutter came back. I still think about that case from time to time. I wonder if it was a stranger and a random murder, but that does seem unlikely,” he said.
“Do you know the Robertsons?” I asked.
“I know her. She’s a piece of work. Entirely unpleasant in every way. She’s the sort of person that if she doesn’t get her way, she feels free to make your life a misery. Not just today and not just tomorrow but for next month and maybe even next year if she has the opportunity,” Liam said bitterly. “She came into the store once . . .”
“So you know her well?” I asked.
“Well enough to not want to know her any better,” he said. “Look, this is a small town in a small area. Of course I know her.”
“And her husband?” I asked.
“I don’t know him as well as I do her. He always struck me as the quiet sort. I avoid those. You can’t trust them,” he said.
I felt like laughing but managed to stay serious. I would have thought that Liam liked the quiet ones because he liked to talk so much himself. But all I said was, “If you think of anything interesting about the wedding dress shop or anything else, let me know.”
“Will do,” he agreed. “At the moment, the only interesting thing I’m thinking about is that I should quit and become a sailor. So many hot men.”
I rolled my eyes, gave Liam a quick hug, and headed out. If I didn’t hurry I’d be late to meet Charlie.
As it turned out, I was already late. Charlie was waiting for me right outside the theater, and she looked excited. “Mrs. Robertson contacted me herself. She read my article in the newspaper. There’s something she wants to tell us.”
Without another word, we speed-walked to the car and drove to Mrs. Robertson’s house. She lived on a quiet street lined with little houses all neatly packed together. Each house had a small yard; they were all well-kept and neat. The Robertson house was white with yellow shutters, not exactly a combination I would have picked, but oh well. Tastes do differ.
An incredibly well put together woman met us at the front door, dressed in a blue dress and black shoes. Her hair cascaded over one shoulder in the sort of perfect waves that I could never imagine duplicating. She was definitely one of the women I had seen at Henrietta’s shop.
“Come in. Thank you so much for coming. Sorry about the mess. We’re having an anniversary party tomorrow night, just a few friends and family coming over to celebrate our happy day with us,” she said.
We followed her into a perfectly kept living room. It was small, but there was nothing out of place. I wasn’t sure what she had meant in terms of apologizing for the mess until I saw a few open boxes in the corner. Something that looked a lot like confetti was spilling out of one of them, presumably for the upcoming party.
“Thank you for getting in touch with me. I was hoping that my article would jog someone’s memory,” said Charlie.
Mrs. Robertson smiled gently at Charlie as if she thought Charlie was a bit stupid.
I frowned. Something about this felt off already, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.
“Of course,” Mrs. Robertson said out loud. “I knew Haley, so I felt that I must reach out. Poor girl.”
“What exactly about the article did you find interesting?” Charlie asked. Pulling out her notebook, she poised her pen to write.
“Of course I found the entire article interesting. What was most notable was the mystery surrounding Haley’s death. A mysterious car accident,” Mrs. Robertson explained.
“Did you not believe that’s how she died?” Charlie asked neutrally.
“It would be foolish for me to say anything like that, because my husband was the police officer on duty at the time. Of course he wasn’t a real police officer, he was just filling in. But he did his best. Small towns have to make do,” said Mrs. Robertson.
“Would he like to talk to me?” Charlie asked.
“Oh, I doubt it. He is rather shy.” Mrs. Robertson smiled, but there was something steely in her eye.
“If he changes his mind, would you let me know?” said Charlie.
The question went unanswered as Mrs. Robertson followed her own thought train.
“What I wanted to tell you might explain the accident,” she said. “I just thought it might be useful for you to know that Haley was a terrible driver. That is all to say I wouldn’t be surprised if she had gotten into an accident that was completely her own fault. It happens to people who are good drivers, let alone the ones who don’t stop at stop signs and the like.” Mrs. Robertson was smiling at Charlie as if she had done my friend a real service. “I don’t know if you want to write an article about that, but I thought you should know. I’m happy to be quoted.”
“So you don’t think foul play could be involved?” asked Charlie. She sounded neutral, but I knew that inside she was bristling.
Mrs. Robertson looked horrified. “I knew her very well. She helped me plan the perfect wedding, and everything was beautiful. Everything was exactly how I wanted it to be. She was a lovely young lady. No, I cannot see how anyone would want to harm her. Besides, my husband investigated, and it was clear from the report that there was no foul play involved,” she explained.
“How much of your wedding was planned by the time she passed away?” Charlie asked.
The sudden shift in topics threw Mrs. Robertson, but only temporarily. She was always just a breath away from a fake smile.
“The wedding was finished. We were just dealing with a couple of last-minute details. Haley was supposed to come to the wedding, of course. Her presence would have been lovely,” she said.
Just then a car drove up and Mrs. Robertson stiffened slightly. Charlie glanced at me and then away. I had a feeling we knew who was home.
The front door opened and a man’s voice said, “Honey? Who’s here?”
“That reporter from the Gazette I told you about. Come in and say hello,” Mrs. Robertson called out.
A tall, thin man made his way slowly into the doorway. He wore glasses and was balding on top.
“This is Charlie Silver and her friend,” said Mrs. Robertson. “Charlie is the one who wrote that brilliant article in the paper the other day about Haley’s death. You remember? The accident you investigated?”
“Of course I remember. I said I would take over for a day and then that happens,” he said. “Bad enough that she’s dead, but I’m supposed to solve the case.” He sounded gruff and angry.
Chapter Twenty-One
Greer had taken the day off to cook for Deacon.
When I got home late that afternoon, the pots and pans and luscious smells that permeated the kitchen made it clear that Greer had been at it for hours already. Her brow was sweaty and her hair was a mess. Her face was flushed and she looked as happy as I’d ever seen her.
She glanced up at me and grinned as I entered.<
br />
“Good day?” she asked.
“Better now,” I said, sniffing a pot.
“Chicken curry,” she said. “Deacon’s favorite.”
Curry was something I’d started having only recently, but I was cautiously optimistic. “Delicious. Are you making enough for six?”
Greer scoffed. “I should be, though the way the guys eat, I’m not a hundred percent confident in that. Deacon would probably eat the whole pot if I let him.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true. It amazes me how much food Jasper orders at restaurants or needs on hand when we’re home. I’m always like, isn’t one dinner enough?”
“Sure it is. One super-sized dinner,” Greer agreed. She went back to stirring what was on the stove.
The kitchen was warm, and I was excited that everyone was coming over tonight. I found that I didn’t want to leave.
“When is Deacon getting here?” I asked.
Greer glanced at the clock on the wall. “In an hour or so. I need to get this food to a good place and then go get cleaned up. I’m starting to smell.”
“Do you two want some alone time to start the evening?” I offered, hoping she would say no. The food smelled so good I wasn’t even sure I could wait for Deacon to arrive.
Greer snorted. “I probably would, but he doesn’t see the urgency. He thinks all this wedding mess was expected. He thinks we’ll be able to solve it no problem. He thinks fairies dance in the woods.”
“Wasn’t the mess expected?” I asked.
She shrugged, her face tight. “I guess so, but either way, he isn’t as worried as I am. A loving family’s cunning can be deadly. He’s only coming home because of how worried I was. He says it’s not a big deal. Then there’s the whole witch thing, too.”
She glanced at me again. For the first time I felt as if her attention was shifting away from her expression of love for her fiancé and the food she was preparing, and toward the unspoken question between us.
“He should probably be told,” I said quietly.
“Jasper’s okay with that?” she asked.
Mysterious Mintwood Murmurs Page 13
