Painted Spirits: A Chocolate Magic Cozy Mystery - Book 7

by Olivia Swift

  Magda put something in the oven for their dinner and gave the baby her bath. Then she settled her in her bouncy play seat and cleared up the collection from the floor. Every cushion in the place was lying in a heap. Two throws and a small furry rug from the bedroom were also included.

  “You dragged these all in here, you strange creature,” she told the cat. “Now leave them alone.” Crystal ignored her completely and went to sit on the stairs. Sam appeared and they sat down to eat the lasagna she had heated after she had placed a chilled salad and a pitcher of iced tea on the table.

  After Alison came and took over baby duties, the two of them set off to meet Madge’s dad.

  Madge welcomed them into a cozy house with a lovely old dog who followed them inside and settled beside her dad. Introductions were made and the man in the chair said that he would not get up.

  “No problem,” Sam said and went to shake his hand. “I’m Sam and this is my wife Magda.”

  “The genius with the truffles,” the old man’s eyes twinkled at her. “I’m Warren Jacks.”

  Madge offered coffee or a beer if they liked. Warren said he would have a beer and Sam said the same.

  “Coffee suits me fine, thanks,” Magda replied, and the woman went off to the kitchen.

  “You want to talk horses,” Warren said. “My favorite subject but no way I can think about ever riding one again. Old age is such a nuisance.”

  “But your mind is still sharp,” Madge said as she came back in with coffee and cookies. “Tell them what you remember hearing about Cody Jones and the family that he bred horses with.”

  Warren sat back and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked at the visitors.

  “You both ride?” he asked, and they nodded.

  “My cousin owns The Panhandle Dude Ranch and has just sold me a lovely mare called Jessie.” She took out her phone and showed him a picture.

  “Smart little girl,” he said and handed back the cell phone. “Enjoy it. It never comes back.”

  “Dad,” Madge said. “Stop complaining and talk about the past. Didn’t your dad actually know the Bentleys when he was young?”

  “Yes. My dad knew them when they had just sold all of the stock and moved into a little house in town. Mr. Bentley was never really happy again according to Dad. He lost what he loved - breeding horses.”

  “Why?” Sam asked.

  “He never could really figure it out because the Bentleys never talked about it, but Cody Jones was never around anymore.”

  “So, did they live at the ranch house until then?” Magda asked. “And what sort of horses did they breed?”

  Warren settled back and talked about the tales his father had told him about the quality of the stock that Cody Jones and Al Bentley had bred.

  “They were friends from childhood and mad about horses and riding. Bentley was apparently an excellent horseman, but Cody was the one with the crowd appeal and gained a reputation. According to Dad, he had overshadowed his friend but they both made money from the ranch and the horse breeding. People were on a waiting list to buy one of their working stock. By the time they were sold, the horses were trained impeccably and could be taken straight into a working situation.”

  “How did Jones come to be the founder of the orphanage?” Magda asked and Warren thought that someone working on the ranch died and that there were two orphans left behind.

  “He was popular and raised money to establish a place for homeless kids and then the county paid so much for each child to help the place keep going. It was successful in its day.”

  “At least he left a legacy because the foundation still helps the homeless,” Sam added.

  Magda thought about the drawings and suddenly asked if he had ever heard that they had painted ponies. Warren looked at her and asked why she thought of that. She scrolled through her photos and found the ones of the sketches of painted ponies. The old man looked at it and looked up.

  “These are just so real from just a few pencil strokes. They are painted ponies without a doubt and when he was younger, my dad had some that looked just like that. He swore they were direct descendants of the ones bred by Jones and Bentley. He said that they had bred all sorts of quality stock. The ranch was full to the brim with all sorts of horses. These painted ones were Bentley’s special interest and losing them was what broke his heart.

  “Who drew these?”

  “Bentley’s great-great-grandson,” Magda said.

  11

  There was a stunned silence and Magda slowly perused through the other sketches. Warren was shaken by the news. His daughter poured him a generous shot of whiskey and he quickly drank it.

  “Dad was always sad for Al Bentley. Living without what he loved doing was something that left him unhappy for the rest of his life.”

  “Where was Cody Jones? Had he died maybe?” Magda asked. Warren shook his head.

  “He disappeared. There was talk about a woman and about his friendship with Indians. He had bought the original painted pony stock from native tribe people and bred them on. Dad always thought that Bentley knew where Cody had gone but they had been friends since childhood and he never talked about it.”

  “But Al Bentley could have carried on without him and bred the horses himself,” Magda said.

  “They owed money, and everything had to be sold,” Warren told them. Then he asked about the Bentleys who were still around. They explained about Shelby coming in to see if they could use his paintings in the gallery and fate taking a hand.

  “My best friend and business associate, Rula. You know Rula,” she said to Madge. “She and Mikey bought a house with an old stable and it turns out to be the very place where the Bentley ranch used to be. His sister had some old photos and the barn that is still in existence is in Rula’s yard.”

  “Well I never,” Madge said.

  Magda went back to the photos and found the one with the barn. “That photo is of the time when the Bentleys were at the ranch and that barn is in Rula’s yard.”

  She found the one of the ranch which had Al Bentley and his wife on the porch steps.

  “That is Al Bentley that your dad knew,” Magda said and handed over the phone again.

  “Good Lord. Talk about a blast from the past,” Warren said. Then he added that, seeing Mrs. Bentley, he remembered that she had given his mother some blankets and cushions that were made by Native Indians. She liked them and bought some material to copy them. I remember them around the house when I was a kid. Mom liked sewing.”

  Magda laughed and looked at Sam.

  “I know this sounds really crazy, but we have a Birman cat who seems to have psychic powers. Today she pulled all of the cushions and throws she could find onto the floor.” She lifted her hands in despair. “How she does it we don’t know but the cat has some sort of sixth sense.”

  She opened up an album on her phone and found a photo of Crystal and showed it to them.

  “She’s very beautiful,” Madge said.

  “And far too smart for her own good,” Magda said.

  “Al Bentley’s great-great-granddaughter is one of the best riders I’ve ever seen,” Magda told them. “Chloe is twelve and rides like she has been doing it for forty years. She has an Arab pony called Merlin and he goes like the wind.”

  “She wants to breed horses when she’s grown up,” Sam added. “The family tradition obviously lives on.”

  “My dad would be pleased about that. Maybe she will breed wonderful quarter horses and train them like Al,” Warren said.

  “She’s entered in the rodeo. I think she has grown up seeing Cody Jones as a hero. She practices hours on end.”

  “Good luck to her. Maybe I will talk Madge into taking me to watch.”

  “You always say it makes you sad because you can’t ride anymore,” Madge replied.

  “Maybe I would like to see Al Bentley’s great-great-granddaughter and her Arab pony.”

  “We’ll have to meet up if you do decide to go. My
cousin Branston is entered. He’s as horse-mad as Chloe is and he’s over thirty.”

  “Nothing better,” the old man said.

  They thanked him for his memories and said they would let him know if they found out anything else.

  “Well, cushions and blankets. That bloomin’ cat is ahead of us again,” Magda said when they were driving home. She called Merle and told her what the man had said and then she called Rula and Katie. She texted Bart and received a text back saying that there was information about Cody Jones. He would tell them what he had in the morning.

  Alison had the baby asleep in her crib and they tiptoed away to have a quiet drink.

  “That cat,” Magda said and pointed at Crystal, “pulled all of the cushions and throws onto the floor and tonight Warren told us about his mother being given cushions and blankets from Mrs. Bentley. She did it again.”

  Alison laughed and said that her little black cat was mercifully being normal.

  “I keep her away from Crystal. The two of them together are some force to be reckoned with.”

  “Thing is,” Sam said, “that they were Native American designs and you just bought that horse blanket from Ava in the same style.”

  “Lord,” Magda said. “I never made that connection.”

  “I’m off,” Alison said.

  “Thanks,” Magda said and gave her a hug.

  They went to check on the baby and sat together on the bed.

  “Very strange set of coincidences,” Sam said.

  “I wonder what Bart has found. It might all tie in.”

  Magda curled up against Sam on the bed. It always amazed her that she had such a wonderful relationship. The two of them had grown up arguing about everything. If Sam had said black, Magda would have said white. He had asked her out at fifteen and she had turned him down. He never ceased to remind her about how many years she had wasted without him. He held her close and talked quietly about how things turned out that you never expected.

  “I guess the Bentleys thought that the horse breeding and ranch would go from strength to strength and then they ended up without Cody Jones and without the ranch,” she said sadly.

  “He must have missed breeding the horses and his best friend.”

  “It didn’t leave the family though. Look at Shelby and then Chloe. I would like her great-great-grandfather to know the tradition was carrying on,” Magda said.

  “I wonder if Samantha will be a good truffle maker,” Sam smiled into her hair.

  “She might be a builder and drive great big machinery,” Magda laughed quietly. “Funny though. I just thought. Cody Jones helped children. I wonder if he went on helping youngsters wherever he went.”

  “Maybe Bart will have some answers,” Sam said. “Go to sleep.”

  She had opened the café in the morning and the stallholders were setting up for the day when Bart arrived and slid onto his stool.

  “You have news. This is early for you,” Magda said to him. He nodded and slid a tablet across the counter. She read what was on the old version of the newspaper and looked up.

  “Oh no,” she said.

  “What?” Rula asked and came across to join them.

  “There was a body discovered and Cody Jones was arrested.”

  “Good Lord above,” Rula said and picked up the tablet. “He wasn’t charged,” she added as she read the whole thing.

  “He must have left the area after that,” Magda added. “Warren told us last night that his dad always thought that Mr. Bentley knew where his friend was but never talked about it to anyone.”

  “What else did he say?” Bart asked and she went over the story about the painted ponies, the Native American connection, and the cushions and throws. Then she reminded them about Crystal and her collection of cushions the day before.

  “Send Mikey and the others this link,” Rula said and they can all read up on it.

  “Shelby must not know about the charges or he would have said,” Magda added and Bart said he would keep digging to see if there was any follow up.

  Bart finished sending the story to all of the others while Rula went to tell Mikey and Katie to read it and see what they thought.

  Eventually, Bart had to leave to do what he was paid for. The café was busy with the visitors to the gallery. By the time they reached lunchtime, the place was even fuller because Sam and Declan had arrived to eat and Merle and Branston appeared as well. The place was a hive of activity. Sam washed his hands and put on an apron to clear tables and Declan went to help Katie in the gallery. Merle slipped behind the counter which left Magda free to feed the baby. Branston sat with a coffee and read the article over again. He looked very upset about the news and came to sit with Magda and the little one.

  “I know,” she said. “Chloe will be really upset.”

  “We have to have another séance to see if we can find out what really happened.”

  “Those painted ponies must have had native origins and they must have been beautiful,” he said as Mikey appeared with the frame from Jay and handed it to Magda.

  “Just lovely,” she said. He handed her a second one that Jay had done with one he had at home. “Oh fantastic,” she said. “He picked up on the grasslands.” Mikey nodded.

  “Katie loves this one.” Magda looked at the frame with dried grasses decorating the wood and then covered over with chalk paint to show the silhouette of the grasses. It was just right for the horse prints. She nodded.

  “Twenty of those?” He nodded and said he would be back to talk about the article. Merle came through and took little Samantha to let Magda go back to the café. Mercifully, the rush was just about over. Rula made sandwiches for Sam and Declan as Declan came over from the gallery with Katie.

  Katie was carrying a frame and told them that Jay would do twenty before the weekend.

  “This article is bothering Branston,” Magda said.

  “I guess we will have to see if Cody in spirit is willing to tell us anything,” Merle remarked, and the others nodded.

  “Shelby will be over to see the frame,” Sam put in. “He would have to be there and maybe Chloe as well.”

  “I don’t want to upset her,” Branston said. “She’s a gifted rider but still only twelve.”

  “Tomorrow evening?” Rula suggested and they agreed.

  “I think the picture of the painted ponies might help to reach out to him,” Merle added.

  “I’ll bring it with me,” Katie still had the picture in her hand. With one of the painted pony sketches behind the glass, it looked stunning. She propped it behind the counter and stood back. Right on cue Shelby Bentley arrived and Katie just pointed to the picture on the shelf.

  The man was silent and walked to pick it up. He looked around the group of them.

  “I don’t know what to say. I would never have tried that.”

  “Do you approve?” Declan asked and Shelby nodded.

  “I’m stuck for words. I love it.”

  “Jay in the craft exhibition says he can do twenty before the weekend,” Magda said but she told him to take a seat and she would bring him up to date about something else.

  Merle and Branston came and sat in the baby area and they told him about the trip to see Warren and then the article that Bart had found.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in. Sorry,” Magda said and handed him her tablet to let him scan through the story.

  “A body,” he said. “Was it female or male?”

  “Now that’s a question that none of us asked before,” Branston said. Thing is, we would like to see if the spirit can shed some light on the story but the last thing I want to do is upset Chloe.”

  Shelby thought for a moment and then said that his niece would be more upset if she was left out. “Diana can come as well if she thinks she needs to be there.”

  “Tomorrow night then,” Merle said. Magda reached out for the picture and handed it to him.

  “Soften the blow,” she said.

  12


  Shelby left with the picture and the rest of them read through the story again.

  “The family never knew. I guess that Shelby’s great-grandfather wanted to protect his friend and said nothing at all,” Sam remarked.

  “I wonder if he just went into hiding for the rest of his life,” Magda added.

  “Sounds like he wanted to help people. That would have been hard for him. I wonder if he changed his name,” Rula suggested.

  “I wonder if I said that to Warren, it might spark something else,” Magda wondered. “Have I got time to fit in a quick visit?”

  “We could go over tonight if it’s okay with Warren. We wouldn’t need to stay long,” Sam added, and Magda said she would call and explain why they were asking.

  “It might get Warren thinking before we get there.” She went away into the baby area to make the call. Warren answered the phone himself and said it was fine by him.

  “I thought you might have time to go over anything that you could remember. Bart can delve further into the newspaper records if he had some more clues or ideas.”

  “I will put my old-days hat on and see what I can drag up. I have some old photos as well. I can look through them. It might help.”

  “Thanks so much, Warren. We need to try and find out the truth now, even if it’s just for young Chloe.” Sam and Declan went off and Merle handed back her little charge. The baby settled in the carriage and Magda rocked her back and forth as the Samantha’s eyes were already closing.

  Since the midday rush was over, Magda made herself something to eat and read the article through again. She took her time and examined each sentence. The reporter at the time had gone over all of the riding skills of Cody Jones and had included his charity work to help others, especially children. The writer obviously thought from the tone, that Cody Jones had been arrested wrongly although he never actually said that.

  There was no mention of whether the body was male or female although there was a single reference to the lady that Cody had been seeing.