“You can have mine.” Livvy offered hers.
“That’s okay. I bought that for you. Just don’t share with Uncle King. His Highness has had enough.”
Chapter 8
King parked the SUV, and he carried Livvy inside before unloading her bike out of the back folded-down cargo area. I took my grandmother’s bike out and pushed it into the inn’s yard.
Friday was no longer lounging on the porch, and I glanced around, grabbing the black reservation book.
“I put him inside so he wouldn’t run off.”
“Did you carry him? He looked like he weighed a hundred pounds.”
“Are you feeling all right?” he asked, tilting his head. “Friday doesn’t weigh more than ten. Fifteen depending on whose feeding him.”
“Right.” I slowly shook my head. Why would the detective believe that I was now the proud owner of a magical Puma Man? He’d lock me up in the loony bin should I even utter the words. I bet the town would love that. Then they might get access to tear down the lawn ornaments. “I haven’t had enough coffee.”
He guided me by the elbow toward his SUV so we could leave, and I spun out of his hand and headed back to the inn.
“I need to grab something before we leave.”
“Sure.” I heard him answer as I ran into the house and up the stairs. Grabbing Ryder’s blocking pendant from the bedside table, I slid it over my head.
I jogged back downstairs to find King waiting in the SUV when I jumped in.
“All good?”
“Dandy.”
He nodded and started slowly backing the SUV down the drive. “So, I called the mechanic for you. He’ll be by tomorrow to take a look at Mildred’s old heap.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you might want to write that down in your book. So you remember.”
“Sure.” I tipped the book so the pen fell out and opened it to tomorrow’s date. The once blank page now had an entry penned on the page. “Did someone write in my book while I was gone?”
“No, they went into the kitchen and bagged the contents for testing. Why would someone write in your book?”
“I could have sworn tomorrow was blank other than dinner plans.” I glanced down again and watched as an entry scrolled on the page right before my eyes. Mechanic 2PM to evaluate the car.
“The mechanic isn’t coming at two tomorrow by any chance, is he?”
He glanced over at me. “How did you know that?”
I lifted the book for him to see. “It just appeared.” I pointed to the other entry. “And this one wasn’t there earlier this morning either.”
He pulled the SUV over and took the book from me when another one started to scroll in the register. Mr. Stephens will pick up the signed paperwork 4PM.
“How are you doing this?” he asked.
“Uh, hello, you were holding the book when that one happened.”
“Maybe Mildred really was a witch.”
“There’s no maybe; she was. I’m sure of it.” I gawked. “You do believe in witches, don’t you?” I asked as he pulled away from the curb. We continued to drive in silence until we got to the coroner’s office.
We both got out of the car and headed for the door. “I believe in what I can prove and see with my own eyes. I’m a detective, Tess. It’s kind of paramount to my job.”
I gave a slow nod. “Speaking of which, Livvy and I were approached in the café by Rene Smalls.”
“Why?” he asked, resting his hand on my arm to stop me from going in.
“Apparently she and John were a thing.”
“Did your magical woo-woo book tell you that?”
“No.” I smiled. “Livvy did. She saw them in Mildred’s rose garden one night.”
He led me inside, without arguing the validity of the rumors he thought I was spreading. We bypassed the booking area, and he directed me into the elevator.
Within seconds we were whisked one floor down into the basement area. He paused in the hallway, placing a hand on my arm. “Wait here, and I’ll check to see make sure there is no dead body on the table.”
“You’re assuming I haven’t seen a dead body.”
“Well, you couldn’t have gotten but a glimpse of the one in the well.”
“It’s not the first dead body I’ve seen.” I followed him into the room and immediately regretted it. Once I got past the antiseptic smell that always made me lightheaded something akin to intrigue took over.
A man lay on the table covered in a sheet. His bloody wounds from falling into the well had been cleaned up, giving us a closer glimpse at the damage done to his body. That poor man.
“Ah, King, just the man I was looking for,” Dr. Holder announced.
“What have we got, Doc?”
“Poor Mr. Tidwell suffered multiple contusions from his fall into the well.” Dr. Holder led us over to the lighted box where x-rays hung. “But the blunt force trauma caused the most blood loss.”
“Really?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and walking to view the x-rays. I had no idea what I was looking at.
“He was dead on impact.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“There would have been more blood pooling around his injuries, and there wasn’t.”
“I didn’t notice any pools of blood around the well. I’m guessing that wasn’t where he was killed.”
Dr. Holder grinned. “Have you studied forensics before, my dear?”
“Not formally, but I dabble in investigation.”
“One does not simply dabble,” Dr. Holder said, even more curiosity in his voice.
“Okay, fine. I’m the leader in an online mystery murder game. I’ve looked at a fake crime scene or two.”
“What are you talking about?” King asked with skepticism in his voice.
“The mystery murder boxes that they send you in the mail. Figure the clues, investigate, and report your findings. Each time you get one right, you get points. Be the first to get one right and you land at the top of the rankings. It’s nothing.” I waved my hand.
“You should join our club,” Doc Holder said with a wave of his hand, gesturing to me.
“Club?”
“Doc.” King groaned. “Can we get back to the reason poor John is dead? You can tell her all about the club later.”
“Right. Of course,” he said, turning back to the x-rays. “He was hit on the head multiple times and lost a lot of blood, but the fatal blow didn’t happen until he was heaved into the well and hit the rock bottom.”
“Date and time of death?”
“Three months.”
“How is that possible?” King asked. “I’ve seen corpses look ten times worse than him in less time.”
I shrugged. “Well water comes from a spring. Depending on the temperatures, it could have frozen or preserved the body. Was it cold in the last three months?”
King snapped his gaze to mine.
“She’s right, Detective. That’s exactly why I think Mr. Tidwell is so well preserved.”
“So whoever dumped his body did us a favor?” King asked.
“Yes, and since his body is so bloated, we were able to uncover a print. I sent it to the lab to work on identification. If I’m lucky, and the killer is in the system, I should be able to give you a name soon.”
“Unbelievable,” King said, running his hand through his hair.
“You still need to find the crime scene and the murder weapon to solidify your case,” I said on a side note. “Was Mr. Tidwell local?”
“No,” they both answered at the same time.
“Do you know where he was staying? Surely, someone has called and turned in his things when he didn’t pay for an extended stay.”
“Tess.” King turned to me. “He was staying with Mildred. Did you see anything when you looked through the house yesterday?”
“No, and I didn’t go into the basement or the third floor at all. I was tired after dinner. I’d planned to do that toda
y until I tried the killer tea.”
Chapter 9
We arrived back at the inn, and we both paused on the porch staring at the letter sticking out between the door and hinge, a curious all-seeing eye drawn on the outside.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Same symbol,” he announced. “You going to read it?”
I slipped the paper free and unfolded it.
Reap what you sow. Karma is always keeping score. The challenge has been made. The next deadly move forthcoming.
“Well, that’s not cryptic,” I said, handing him the note and opening the door. “Do you recognize the handwriting?”
He shook his head. “Nope, but it does tell me that you’ve had a visitor since we left. I’ll ask the neighbors if they saw anything when we’re done here.”
“Don’t you have security cameras at your house? Why don’t you just point them at the Inn and try to catch the person?”
“I tried that once but the picture was always distorted when I went to check the feed.”
I walked into the house and followed King up the stairs, continuing until we hit the third floor. He opened each door slowly, peeking inside, and cleared each room until we got to the end of the hall to the room right above mine. He pushed that door open.
Blood spatter covered the bedspread and left a trail to the bathroom. I gasped and covered my mouth. I’d been sleeping right beneath it. How had I not known that was there? We both eased into the room, following the trail to find blood on the sink and two towels as if they’d been held to the body to stop the bleeding. It explained why there was no blood trail leading outside.
We stepped back into the bedroom, and my gaze landed on the blood-covered weapon. Of all things, a freakin’ candlestick. I felt like I was playing a live version of the game Clue. Only there was no butler or maid.
“I’m guessing your forensic team will be coming back.”
He sighed. “Yep.”
“Great.” I sighed. “Can you ask them to bring me lunch? My bite of cake pop isn’t going very far, and seeing how you cleared the cabinets...”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll order pizza.”
I nodded and spun on my feet. “You might want to tell Doc Holder to bring whatever you wanted me to sign to exhume Mildred’s body since we forgot to do it while we were there.”
King pulled his phone out. “Where are you going?”
“I know the drill.” I waved without turning around. “I’ll be on the porch and out of the way.”
****
I was perched on the swing, Indian style, with a pizza box on my lap and Friday sitting next to me, swatting at the food in an attempt to knock it from my hand. “Keep it up, and I won’t give you any.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Tess Venture,” Friday answered, making me pause. Not because he’d talked, I knew he could, but that he’d spoken when others had walked by.
“Can they not hear you?” I asked.
“They can only hear my meow unless I want them to.”
“Nifty trick,” I said, tossing a bite of pizza toward his mouth for him to catch.
He snatched it out of the air like a trained dog.
“Tell me this. You live here, and you hardly leave the house. Where were you when John was killed?”
“It seems you’ve resorted to talking to the cat just like Mildred,” King said, leaning against the doorframe.
“Must run in our blood,” I answered seconds before Friday stole my pizza and ran off into the house. “I’m beginning to think I should invest in camping gear due to how many times your people have commandeered the inn since I’ve arrived.”
“I’m surprised it wasn’t in your book.” He grinned.
“Right.” I held the box open for him to grab a slice of pizza and then brushed my hands together, picking up the book. I opened it to today’s date and chuckled, turning so he could read it. “Apparently it was.”
“That thing is freaky. Mildred carried it everywhere with her.”
I flipped to tomorrow’s page and paused. The entries were still there about the attorney and the car guy, but now another one had been added. Panic raced down my spine. “Looks like I’ll be having my first guest tomorrow too.”
“Seriously?” King took a seat next to me, and I handed him the book to look for himself.
“The Carnies, whoever the heck they are.” I shrugged and grabbed another piece of pizza. “Hope the caterer knows to expect extra mouths, seeing as I have no way of feeding that family.” I pointed to the six o’clock entry. “Looks like our typical dinner reservation is still standing.”
“Too bad that book doesn’t tell you who was visiting the day Mildred or John died.”
“Do you know the exact date?” I asked, taking the book back from him.
“Friday the thirteenth, three months ago.”
“Good thing I’m not superstitious.” I flipped back in the book three months before to the thirteenth, and nothing was written. “Nothing on that day,” I said and flipped back one more page and pointed to the late evening entry.
Tea with John and Rene.
He grabbed the book to look for himself. “Well, seeing how John and Mildred wound up dead, I think it’s time we talk to Rene.”
“Can I go?” I asked as he rose.
“It’s official police business, Tess.”
I stood. “It’s a lead that you wouldn’t have without me. Think about it. She approached me in the café. If you take me with you, then she can’t deny she knew him. Let’s face it; you’ll never be able to use my book as proof. Who would believe it’s magical?”
King ran his hands through his hair, a sign I was noticing a lot more when he was contemplating his next move. I’d beat the pants off of him in poker if we ever played; quite literally if it was a game of strip poker. My gaze caressed down his face over his broad shoulders and narrow hips. He was a beautiful man. Not like the statues but more real. I’d seen my fair share of stunning men on the island. They all exuded confidence and the same physique, but with King, it was something much more. Something I couldn’t yet put my finger on. My own little mystery to solve.
“Fine, but you’re just there to observe. Understand?”
I smiled and saluted him the same way Livvy had the first day we’d met. I jogged down the steps next to him and through the crowded yard to his SUV parked on the street. It wasn’t until he was driving that I began to spin my theories.
“Excessive head beatings indicate the killer was determined he die. It could be a crime of passion.”
He sighed.
“And if it was true that they were sweet on each other, then you might be looking at a jilted lover.”
“She’s married.” He glanced my way.
“Married people have affairs.” I shrugged. “It’s not like she had to carry him down the stairs to the well. He could have stumbled down the stairs trying to get away from her, and she pushed him in. If it wasn’t her, then my money is on the husband.” I turned my gaze out the window.
“Is that your final answer?”
I rolled my eyes. “No. Not yet.”
“Good. You’re also forgetting the reason he came to town in the first place.”
“To find out who penned the premonitions,” I said, more to myself than to him. If he’d found out who authored those notes, that might spur a flight of self-preservation in silencing the man. “We’re assuming that it was either.”
“Come again?”
“Well, what if the killer was caught in the act standing over Mildred’s dead body. Maybe John ran to the safety of his room, and the killer caught him and had to silence him too. He could have been tying up loose ends.”
“And what if a team of killer knife-wielding leprechauns sprouted from the book and did it, or maybe the cat will tell you in your dreams what the killer’s name is.” He glanced my way and raised his brow. “I can spout theories all day no matter how crazy they sound. That’s why we rely on evidenc
e and proof.”
Leprechauns were one thing, but a talking cat was another. King parked on the curb and killed the engine. When he didn’t make a move to get out, my brows furrowed.
He nodded with his head toward the yard, where a man was outside with a lawnmower cutting the grass. His bulging sun-kissed biceps looked about the size of my head. His legs like tree stumps, and judging from a distance, he stood like a giant among men “This might get awkward.”
“Is he a bodybuilder?”
“Worse.” King sighed, opening his door. “He’s a car salesman.”
I got out and rounded the SUV when King started walking. “So what’s the plan?”
“Two pair of cuffs and my stun gun.”
“Uh. You aren’t carrying those things.” I glanced over my shoulder back to the SUV. “Do you need me to go back and get them?”
“I’m hoping not to need them.”
I grabbed his arm and stopped him. “Going in and accusing his wife of cheating without a weapon probably isn’t a smart thing to do.”
“That’s why I’m not going to accuse his wife.” King shrugged his arm over my shoulders. “I’m just going to introduce the newest addition to the town and then figure a way to keep him busy so you can question her.”
I started humming the Rocky theme song as we approached.
Chapter 10
The husband didn’t cut the engine on the lawnmower until we walked up into his driveway.
“King,” he said, using the towel over his shoulder to wipe the sweat on his brow.
“Marcus.” King did the little man-nod of acknowledgment. “I’d like you to meet Mildred’s granddaughter, Tess Venture. She’ll be running the inn.”
His gaze shifted to mine, and he raised a brow. “Whose kid are you?”
“I don’t understand the question,” I said, shifting my gaze to King.
“Mildred had two children. Charlotte and Alexander.”
My mouth parted. “Uh, I guess that would make me Alexander’s, considering I grew up with my mother.”
Witchy Trouble Page 4
