I understood why Vivienne had gone into hiding, but she had wasted nearly a day of Nick’s time and energy. While he and his investigators had been searching for her, they could have been looking at other angles to this case.
I stood up. “I should go.” I wanted to call Nick to give him a heads-up about Reggie, and I also wanted to stop by to see Harper. Beyond wanting to talk over all these new developments, she always had aspirin handy.
“Darcy, what are you . . .” Reggie wrung her hands. “With Archie, I mean.”
With Archie. Because she was a Halfcrafter, and in the witch world, it was an entirely different set of laws she had broken.
Part of me wanted to forget the whole incident, but as an investigator for the Elder, I had an obligation to the Craft. “I’ll have to share what you did with the Elder. It’s my job.”
“We take care of our own,” the Elder had said to me the other day.
“But I’m sure the Elder will be lenient with you,” I said, “considering you’re facing mortal charges as well. You’ll probably be called before her, so you’d best prepare for that meeting.”
Reggie took my hands and held them tight. “Thank you, Darcy. I’ll swing by later on for Samuel’s cloak, okay?”
“That’s fine.”
“One more thing?” she added.
“What’s that?”
Her blue eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. “I really wish Cookie had a miniature donkey friend so she won’t be lonely.”
I dropped my head back and sighed. After a moment, I cast the spell. Silently, we all waited for the Elder to either approve or deny the wish.
A moment later, a small charcoal gray donkey appeared at my feet. “Eee-aww, eee eee eee!”
“He’s gorgeous!” Reggie exclaimed as she rubbed the spot between the donkey’s ears.
“Mehh!” Cookie bleated.
Not to be outdone, Audrey barked.
I looked at Glinda. “You’re explaining this one to Harmony.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Darcy! Hey, wait up!”
I had just left Spellbound and was dashing across the village green, heading for As You Wish, when I heard my name. I had stopped by the bookshop to tell Harper all I’d found out—about the mourning dove, Reggie, and Vivienne—and to get that aspirin, only to be told that Harper had gone to As You Wish to drop off my paintings.
Turning, I found a tall blond-haired man loping toward me, but behind him—at the north end of the square—I spotted Glinda tugging twin ropes attached to Cookie and the new mini donkey. The furry pair was strongly resisting a return to the Pixie Cottage. I almost laughed out loud, imagining what Glinda would possibly tell Harmony.
As I refocused on the man as he neared, I wished Nick were here with me.
“Thanks for waiting,” Chip said. “You were moving at a good clip there.”
“No problem.” I kept my distance, not sure of his intent in tracking me down.
As far as I knew, he was now the lead suspect in Natasha’s death. I was grateful we were standing in the middle of the village at noon. In broad daylight. Still, I was nervous.
“I almost didn’t recognize you with clothes on.” Dressed in khaki pants and a button-down shirt, he looked even more like a Ken doll than I had previously thought.
Laughing, he said, “Yeah, well, I’m catching a flight later, and the airlines frown upon nakedness. Go figure.”
He was leaving town? “Flight?”
“To Hollywood. An old director friend of mine is interested in my poisoning story. He’s thinking it’d be great for a made-for-TV movie, but I’m aiming for the big screen. He’s flying me out there to get things rolling.”
I recalled what Alina had said about Chip being cheap and wasn’t surprised he hadn’t bought his own ticket. “So soon?”
“We’d been talking about collaborating on a project for a while now but were waiting for the right time. You can’t get more dramatic than what happened to me.”
The timing was all kinds of suspicious. Had this been his goal all along? “That’s turning lemons to lemonade if I ever heard it.”
“Lots of lemonade,” he agreed. “Which is good, because I might never drink a smoothie again.”
Uncomfortable, I shifted from foot to foot. “Did you already meet with Nick?”
“Yeah, just came from there.”
“And he okayed you leaving the village?” I asked hesitantly.
Shoving his hands in his pocket, he rocked on his heels. “I get it. You’re not sure if I killed Natasha or not. I didn’t. I’m not that kind of guy.” He cracked a smile. “I might not be above a little attempted blackmail, but I draw the line at violence.”
“It’s good to know your ethical boundaries.”
The breeze ruffled his hair. “Nick cleared me to travel once Cherise Goodwin confirmed I had been with her from the moment I left the hospital yesterday morning until late afternoon. It’s a good thing for me she refused to leave my side until she was sure I was settled in with a fridge full of food we knew wasn’t contaminated, or I might be in jail right now.”
“Cherise is a force.”
“She even threw away my toothpaste. Just in case.”
We stepped to the side, off the path, as a woman walked by with a baby in a stroller. “That is thorough.”
Looking thoughtful, he said, “I owe her my life. And you, too. It’s why I stopped you. I wanted to say thanks before I left town. If you hadn’t come back to check on me . . .”
“You’re welcome,” I said, meaning it. “I’m glad I trusted my instincts.”
“If only I’d trusted mine. I knew better than to get involved with Natasha, but she was like a drug, one I couldn’t quit cold turkey. Off, on, off, on. It was almost a relief when she talked Baz into seeing her exclusively and she cut me off for good. I could finally let go.”
“Alina, Natasha’s sister, told me someone didn’t like Natasha seeing Baz. Keyed her car, broke in to her house . . .”
“The keyed car didn’t bother Natasha so much. It was the break-in that freaked her out and pushed her to talk Baz into leave the village.”
“You know about the stalking?”
“Yeah, Natasha told me all about it. Even though we weren’t sleeping together, we were still friends. Like I said, the incidents didn’t bother her too much at first. Natasha is used to her share of jealous women and she likes competition. But the break-in worried her.”
Alina had said it was a woman scorned.
But what woman? Chip had told me the other day that Baz had been dealing with a bunch of baggage with his other woman. I’d assumed it was Vivienne. But what if it wasn’t?
“Do you know who did it? Do you think it was Vivienne?”
“I don’t think Vivienne even knew they were dating. I felt really bad for her, actually. I think it was someone else Baz had been seeing, which could be any number of people.”
Baz’s words came back to me. “It was a whirlwind relationship. We’d only been seeing each other for a month. I fell so fast for her. So hard and fast. She wasn’t like the others.”
The others . . .
“Do you have any names?” I asked.
“No, but I’m guessing whoever did it is the person who killed Natasha and poisoned me.”
“Why poison you, though? How do you fit in?”
“I don’t know. I can only guess it was because of my relationship with Natasha. We’ll probably never know,” Chip said, looking at a large watch on his wrist. “I need to get going and finish packing.”
“Will you be coming back to the village? Or will you be staying in California?”
“I haven’t decided yet. I was offered Natasha’s job at the playhouse, but . . .” He shook his head. “It’s time for a change. There are too many memories here.
Bad ones. I’ve been wanting to leave for a long time, and now seems like the perfect opportunity to let go.”
I spotted Starla with her camera walking along the green, snapping pictures of tourists. Life was slowly getting back to normal. For some, at least. “I can’t say I blame you.”
He looked around. “I’ll miss this place.”
“Well, you can always come back.”
“I have some dreams to make come true first. Thanks for everything, Darcy.” He flashed me a movie-star smile and strode off.
I was about to start toward As You Wish again when I heard a “Yodel-heh, Darcy!”
I knew that voice. Smiling, I turned to find Godfrey ambling toward me. When he reached my side, he bent and drew in a deep breath.
“Perhaps a diet,” he muttered, “is not such a heinous idea—do not dare tell Cherise I spoke those words.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Straightening, he reached for his pocket square, and eyed me like a germ viewed under a microscope. “What is that you are wearing? And are those flip-flops? My heart . . . it is not strong enough to withstand your insistence upon wearing footwear that flaps!”
I glanced downward. My jeans were damp, thanks to Cookie, and I rather liked my plain white T-shirt. “The shoes are comfy.”
“Argh! Those words are the bane of my existence! If we were not in the middle of the green, I’d dress you properly. Could I possibly persuade you to return with me to the shop?”
“No way.” I didn’t want one of my favorite pairs of jeans to vanish in a swirl of his magic. “Did you run out here just to reprimand me?”
“No, but that alone was worth the perspiration. I know you were quite concerned about Ivy’s possible connection to the petnapper. Therefore when I spied you out here speaking with Chip, I waddled on out. I finally had a chance to view the footage last night.”
The surveillance footage behind Fairytails . . . I should have called him and told him it wasn’t necessary after Nick handed me that cloak this morning, but it had slipped my mind. “Thanks for looking, but—”
He dabbed his upper lip. “There was no sign of Lady Catherine at all.”
I tipped my head, suddenly very interested in what he had to say. “No?”
“Not so much as a tail wag.”
I was certain Ivy had said she found the dog at the back door of Fairytails. If not there, where had she come across her? “What about Ivy? Did you see her at all?”
“Oh, I saw her. I’m not sure what she was thinking with that wig. And black? Not her best color.”
“The wig was rather atrocious, wasn’t it?” I agreed. “But I liked the black dress. Sleek and simple. She looked good in it.”
“Dress? There was no dress. Ivy was wearing gray yoga pants when I saw her, and do not even get me started on that particular fashion faux pas. I was referring to the wig.”
“Wait. I’m confused. A black wig?”
“Yes. Why?”
“This was yesterday?”
He nodded. “Around ten thirty or so, I believe.”
This was getting stranger and stranger. “I saw Ivy yesterday morning, but the wig I saw was blond.”
“A much better color choice,” he said, sounding relieved. “However, when I saw her, Ivy was wearing a midnight black wig, like something Elvira would wear.” He coughed. “Not that I’ve put much thought into the wardrobe of the woman. Elvira, that is. Not Ivy. Oh my.” He fanned himself with the pocket square. “Is it terribly warm today?”
A long black wig . . .
A driver’s seat pushed back to accommodate long legs.
The clicking noises in the background of the spy pen video.
The silhouettes on the photo Glinda had taken . . .
I now knew why that photo been bothering me. The heights. Natasha would have been a lot shorter than Baz, but the woman in the photo with him had been almost as tall as him.
The woman had been Ivy. I was sure of it.
She had known Baz for a while—she was Audrey’s groomer. What had Vivienne said yesterday morning when talking about Audrey’s styling?
“Baz works with Ivy Teasdale at Fairytails to get the look just right.”
Audrey was a year and a half old. Had Baz and Ivy been seeing each other that long? And Baz had mentioned that he pulled some strings with Ivy to get Audrey entered in the Extravaganza last year.
Knowing what I knew now, I could easily imagine what types of strings those had been.
If so, she might be really upset if she knew Baz was growing close to Natasha.
Another conversation came back to me.
Ivy had said, “All I know is love is a powerful motivator. It can make you do crazy things. Especially when it goes bad.”
“It sounds like you’re talking from experience.”
“Haven’t we all been there?”
A woman scorned, was right.
And that woman had been hiding right under my nose the whole time.
I kissed Godfrey’s cheek. “I have to go. I need to call Nick.”
“All is well, Miss Darcy?”
“Not yet,” I said. “But it will be.”
Chapter Thirty
I sprinted across the green, shoved open the side gate at As You Wish, and hurried toward the back door.
Archie squawked in his cage as I ran past. “‘Russell! If you don’t hurry up, the tigers will eat you.’”
“Up!” I yelled over my shoulder.
“Damn it,” he cried.
I kicked off my flip-flops in the mudroom and nearly tripped over Missy and Annie as they greeted me. I bent to scratch their ears. “Harper? Are you still here?”
“In the family room!” she yelled. “We’re just admiring your paintings.”
I grabbed the cordless phone to call Nick. “You’ll never guess— Wait. We?” Aunt Ve and Tilda were supposed to be at the vet’s office right about now. I walked into the family room and found Harper and Ivy standing in front of the fireplace, where my paintings leaned against the stone hearth.
“Ivy was on her way over here when she saw me on the green and helped me carry over the paintings.”
“I was wrong about the pizzazz, Darcy,” Ivy said, looking back at me. “These are spectacular up close. You’re very talented.”
“I, uh—thanks.” I tucked the phone under my arm and wiped suddenly damp palms on my jeans. I told myself to stay calm. To not let on what I suspected about Ivy. I needed a plan.
Harper eyed me. “Why are you all sweaty?”
So much for not letting on. “I, uh, ran over here from the bookshop when Angela told me where you were.”
“You could have walked.”
I forced a laugh. “I didn’t get my jog in this morning. Thought I’d work in a little cardio. . . .”
“In jeans?”
I shot her a “drop it” look.
Ivy’s gaze narrowed.
“I was in a rush to tell you that Cookie’s been found,” I said, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.
“Really?” Ivy said. “That’s fantastic news. All the missing pets are now accounted for. Now maybe those ridiculous petnapper rumors will die.”
I swallowed hard as she said the word “die.”
“Are you calling for some lunch delivery?” Harper asked, motioning to the phone. “Because I’m starved.”
I stared at the phone. “Yes! I was. I was thinking Chinese food. Would you like to stay for lunch, Ivy?”
“Thanks, but I can’t. I’m due back at Fairytails. I just stopped by to pay you.” She sat in the armchair and reached in her tote bag. She pulled out her checkbook.
I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “Then I’ll hold off on calling, but let me get some water.” I smacked my lips. “Dry mouth. Either of you want any
thing?” I asked. “We have coffee, tea, water . . .”
“I’m good,” Harper said, eyeing me as if I were a crazy woman.
“Me, too,” Ivy added.
I turned and nearly tripped over Missy and Annie again. They followed me into the kitchen, where I grabbed a glass and filled it with water. I rattled some ice cubes as I quickly punched in 9-1-1, then left the handset on the counter.
My hand was shaking so badly when I went back into the living room that I spilled some water on the wooden floor. I left it. I didn’t want to explain why I was so sloppy.
Ivy had her pen poised, and Harper was on the sofa, sifting through the photos Glinda and I had left on the table. She must have bumped my laptop, bringing the computer out of sleep mode, because the screen was bright with the images of the mourning dove.
“What is all this?” Harper asked.
I sat next to her. “Oh, nothing really. Glinda and I were trying to find some leads in Natasha’s death, but we didn’t find anything,” I lied. “Glinda was hoping to clear Vivienne’s name, but it’s looking more and more like she’s guilty.”
Harper nodded as she held up the photo of telltale silhouettes. I noticed the time stamp. Four days ago. So Baz hadn’t kept his promise of exclusivity to Natasha. In my head, Vivienne’s voice echoed.
“Once a cheater, always a cheater.”
“I heard they found cyanide in her car,” Harper said as she kept staring at the photo.
“Yeah,” I said, willing her to drop the picture. “That’s what Nick said.”
Ivy motioned to the computer. “Looks like you finally got a good picture of that bird.”
Gone With the Witch Page 26
