Magic, Mayhem and Murder

by January Bain

  “Harrumph.” He stayed outside the cell and pulled up a chair to talk with me through the bars. I frowned.

  “What? Big guy like you afraid to come inside?”

  “We need to straighten a few things out. Again.”

  “What things?” I fiddled with the ends of my braid. As usual it had unraveled.

  “Ever wish you could time travel?” he asked. He placed his large hands on his muscular thighs that were defined and visible through his uniform pants, sitting like President Lincoln does in the big stone chair in Washington. Impressive. A buzzing started in my brain.

  “Sometimes,” I hedged, sensing what he was getting at. “But more importantly, what kind of machine do you want to travel in? An infinite rotating cylinder, wormhole or cosmic string? You know that Einstein’s general theory of relativity allows for it, right?” He nodded in confirmation, narrowing his eyes. “Or maybe you’d prefer to just have your data stream transplanted?”

  “What I would prefer is to reset it back a couple of days before you drew such unwanted attention to yourself and your family.”

  I couldn’t hide a wince.

  “My family’s fine.”

  “Yes. We’re seeing to that. On another note, it turns out you were right about the coffee pods. The poison was inserted into them.”

  “Good. No, I don’t mean that’s good—”

  “I know what you mean. And furthermore, we’ve had an anonymous tip. And a cannister of poison has been found hidden in a house in Snowy Lake. The person gave us permission to search.”

  “Mrs. Smith’s, right?” This was perfect. Finally. Though I was surprised she gave permission. Maybe she was sick of hiding and had decided it was time to come clean.

  He winced, not quite meeting my eyes this time.

  “No, it wasn’t Mrs. Smith. It was Emma Hurst.”

  “What? No way! Emma wouldn’t hurt anyone! She’s being set up. You said she let you right in to search, right? What guilty person does that? I dare you to get Mrs. Smith to do that. And have you checked her pantry yet? That’s where the poison was hidden first. I’m certain of it.”

  “Maybe. But we have to act on what can be proven.”

  “It wouldn’t take much to prove Emma’s not guilty! Because she’s not! I’d bet my bottom dollar Mrs. Hurst was going to plant that poison at the Tea & Tarot and choose Emma instead because it was easier with all the police presence of late. This is your fault!”

  “My fault. How is this my fault?”

  “If you’d checked out Mrs. Smith’s right away, this never would have happened. You’d have found the poison there instead.”

  “I did go and see her as well and there was no poison in her pantry.”

  “What? See, that just proves she’d moved it already.”

  “Because you went there earlier and tipped her off, perhaps?”

  We glared at each other through the bars, neither of us backing down a millimeter.

  He sighed, slapped his thighs once and got up, pushing back the chair. The legs scraped noisily on the cement floor.

  I panicked. “Aren’t you going to let me out of here?” I had to get out and help Emma.

  “Have you learned your lesson, Miss McCall?” he asked pointedly. I gulped, hating that I had to say something less than true to receive a free get out of jail card.

  “Yeah…”

  “You don’t sound certain.”

  It was in my best interests to be gracious and let him off the hook, if I wanted to prove my best friend was innocent. I had to be the bigger person here. Well, figuratively anyway.

  “I’m certain, okay? I promise to give more credence to what you have to say in the future.”

  “Raise your right hand and repeat after me. I, Charm McCall, promise to follow the laws of the land.”

  I dutifully repeated him word for word, my right hand raised, the left behind my back, the fingers knotted.

  “And, further, I vow to follow the rules set out by Constable Ace Collins—”

  “Wait a darn minute!”

  “You want out of here tonight?”

  I fought hard to keep my agitation at bay. “And furthermore I vow to follow the rules set out by…”

  “Constable Ace Collins,” he prompted.

  I mumbled his name, adding the stink eye as a bonus, but careful to keep it directed away from his line of sight.

  One dark eyebrow raised over his piercing browns near did me in. Something about him and the situation made me want to laugh or cry. I wasn’t sure which.

  “Okay, I’ll drive you back to the café.”

  “Great.” I waited while he drew a key from his leather belt and unlocked the door. I slipped through the opening, feeling his closeness. His presence was a powerful magnet, like the needle on a compass spinning around trying to find due North during an electrical storm. I wasn’t sure if we’d be unable to pull ourselves apart if we touched or if we’d be locked together for all eternity. At the moment, I didn’t want to know. My BFF was in trouble and I had to sort it out.

  We drove the short distance back to the café in utter silence. What was there to say? He had my best friend under suspicion of murder while the real one lurked in our community. I was now certain it was Mrs. Smith who had done the dastardly deeds. And the very idea of such evil existing among us? Oh goddess, I prayed, give me the strength to do what needs to be done. The horrible crimes she was involved in—they struck at the heart of who we were, what we stood for. But how to prove she did it and not Emma?

  I walked in the front door of the café but found it empty. Where was everyone?

  “Anyone home?” I called out, hurrying into the kitchen, Ace on my heels.

  The fragrance of fresh-baked cookies lingered in the air, making my stomach rumble. I’d been too upset at supper to do more than chase my food around my plate. I set about sleuthing them out. Why on earth had my sisters hidden them anyway?

  In the back of one of the cupboards I spied a small covered container and pulled it out. I pried off the tin lid, admiring the pretty green leaf stamped on the top. Aha. Macadamia Ginger Chewies. Perfect. I took a huge bite, relishing the flavors. Whoever had baked them had added an extra dose of love to the batter. Probably Granny.

  “Want one?” I asked Ace, who hovered nearby.

  He shrugged. “No, thanks.”

  “Milk?” I asked, over a mouthful of cookie. They were so beautifully flavored and moist, I could have eaten the whole tin full.

  I took his silence as consent and poured two tall glasses from the container in the refrigerator. I was about to start into a second cookie, handing Ace a glass of milk, when footfalls took our attention. Star came rushing into the kitchen. She spotted us and stopped dead in her tracks, looking at the open canister of cookies in my hands.

  “Oh—oh,” she said, grimacing. “You really shouldn’t be eating those.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Did you make theses cookies? They’re fabulous. And where is everyone?” I asked.

  Star flushed beet red. “I did make those with Tulip, but they’re not for public consumption. And Granny, Auntie T.J. and Tulip are upstairs asleep in your apartment.” She came closer and thrust the tin lid back on the container then held it out of reach.

  “What’s going on?” Confused, I stopped drinking the milk and set it aside.

  “How many have you had?” she asked, her expression turning to one of worry.

  “Just one. Why?”

  “Did you have any, Constable?”

  Now she was being proper. “He didn’t want any,” I explained.

  She gave me a curt nod. “I need to speak with you—alone.”

  “What have you got yourself into this time?” I shook my head, then turned to Ace. “If you’ll excuse us a minute, I need to speak with my sister.”

  He eyed both of us suspiciously but gave us space by walking back into the café. I waited until his boots rang out near the front of the store.

 
“Okay. What is it, what’s wrong?”

  “You remember I said I had a great way to make more money from our baking? How we could charge a lot more?”

  “Yeah, I remember. And—” I stared at her as the full memory of the conversation came back to me. “No way! These are marijuana-laced cookies?” Horrified, I rocked back on my heels.

  “You only had one, so you’ll be okay.” She gulped, trying to be reassuring. “You’ll just begin to feel more relaxed soon, that’s all.”

  “You left them in the café. Anyone could have found them.”

  “Hardly. They were in a back of a cupboard with the proper label of the plant leaf on the cover. Don’t you know anything about such things? You’re supposed to be so darn smart, reading all those fancy physics books.” Her defensive tone wasn’t helping. “All you have to do is go to bed and you’ll be fine by morning. One cookie is barely enough to affect a person anyway. I used such a little bit in the recipe. You’d need two or three to have any real effect. Maybe it will make you happier for a change, get you to relax. You’re kind of uptight, sis. Just sayin’.”

  “But I have so much to do yet tonight. Did you hear about Emma? Poison was found at her place and now she’s under suspicion. And I am not that uptight!”

  “But that lets us off the hook, right? And yes, you are that uptight.”

  “That’s not the point. I don’t want my best friend charged with a crime she couldn’t possibly have committed.”

  “Duh, the truth will come out. Just go put your hands on everyone involved and solve the case already!”

  “You think it’s that easy?” I shook my head, then began to giggle. “Did I tell you what happened with Helen Davis? Did you know she has—had cancer and I was able to drive it right out of her body? Just zapped it right then and there.” I snapped my fingers for effect.

  “What are you talking about? I think you’d better sit down, sis.”

  She led me to the kitchen table and I plunked myself down across from her.

  “Now tell me exactly what happened with Helen.”

  I explained the process, finding I had never been more eloquent in my explanation of anything in my entire life. “And then Granny said that the gift is given to the firstborn—you and Tulip might get some other kind of ability, by the way—and that you only get to keep it if you remain a virgin and sleep with just your one true love for all your life.” I spread my arms wide then brought them in to hug myself, blessing my fellow triplet with a full-on grin. “And since I’m still a virgin—” I looked up and realized Ace had come back into the kitchen and was listening. Oh goddess, no. “How long have you been standing there, Sheriff?”

  “Long enough.” He gave me the strangest look.

  Star jumped up. “I need some coffee. How about you, Constable?”

  He shook his head. “I think you should take Charm upstairs and put her to bed. I’ll make the coffee. It’s going to be a long night.”

  “I’m fine. We need to come up with a plan to catch the real killer. And all my instincts say it’s Mrs. Smith. We need to get her to come clean.”

  “How are we going to do that?” Star asked.

  Ace spoke up. “By working together.”

  I looked up at him, standing bigger than life in our tiny kitchen. “What? Now you want my help?” I teased. Working together had such a lovely ring to it.

  A hesitant knock on the door took my full attention. Ace strode over to open it, revealing a subdued-looking Alison standing there.

  I got up and hurried over. “What’s wrong?” I asked before she threw herself into my arms and began to weep.

  “She made me do it,” she said, her words barely understandable through the deep sobs.

  “Who made you do what?”

  “My mom. She said if I wanted the money for school and a large wedding and to keep our home, I had to help her. That someone was blackmailing us and I was her only hope to get what she needed.”

  “What did she need?”

  Alison looked over at Star now standing beside me and clammed up. But it was too late, I’d seen the stark image shared between us, of Alison planting the cyanide at Emma’s.

  “Why did you do it? Why would you do that to Emma?” I asked. We needed her confession out loud to clear Emma.

  “Because she said it was the only way. I’m sorry. She’s my mom and I had to help her. Otherwise, you know how she gets.” Her voice trembled with emotion.

  Thank you, goddess.

  “I’m sorry, Alison. Yes, I know.” I turned and spoke to Ace. “See, I told you Emma had nothing to do with it. It was Mrs. Smith all the time. She killed Mrs. Hurst for blackmailing her husband and looting their savings and then Boyd for threatening to tell the tale, I’ll just bet.” I gave a confused-looking Alison a reassuring hug. “Don’t worry. Constable Collins will protect you.”

  “No, no.” She shook her head violently side to side, taking in my words. “My mother’s not a killer. She’s just worried about her family, making sure we’re going to be okay.”

  But even as she denied it, cracks opened in her façade as we all stood there, giving her looks of sympathy.

  “My mother wouldn’t really hurt anyone, right?” She suddenly looked lost.

  “That remains to be seen, Alison. But I need you to make a statement about what you do know. That’s the best way to help your mom. Are you prepared to do that now?” Ace asked, his voice resonating with both strength and empathy. A good combination to calm fears, judging by Alison’s response. Truthfully, I felt better too, my inner goddess relaxing.

  She nodded, straightening her shoulders, her eyes reddened by tears. Star handed her a handful of Kleenex and she dabbed at her tears. “Yes, I can do that.”

  “I need to take Miss Smith to the station, Charm. I don’t want to leave you and your family alone. I’ll see if Jim’s available.”

  “Not necessary. We’re fine. You do what you have to and we’ll lock up and head upstairs.” The bad stuff happening after a comment like that only happens in the movies, right?

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Duh.” I added a smile for good measure. I had never felt calmer or more assured of myself in my life. Which was kind of weird, now that I thought about it. “And, Officer?”

  “Yes?”

  “You never heard a word that passed between Star and me, right?”

  “Of course not. Family business is private.” But I did detect a twinkle in his brown eyes that made my heart rate speed up. Later, eh.

  He escorted Alison out of the front door of the café, the chimes ringing in full-hearted agreement.

  Another loud knock came on the back door. I gave a sigh then turned the handle to open it. What now? A late-night cookie emergency? Though I could see the cookies that Star and Tulip had dreamed up as having real possibilities of someone wanting to purchase them late at night. I couldn’t believe I was thinking that. But very soon, cannabis was going to be legal. And if it did nothing but relax a person, maybe, just maybe, there was some merit to it? And as my sister had said, there were medical issues it was proven to help with as well…

  “Mrs. Smith, what are you doing here?” The banker’s wife looked none too happy. And a tad disheveled. Then I shook myself awake and out of the mental haze. This was nothing to be glib about. An actual murderess stood in the Tea & Tarot, one who might yet do us harm. My heart began racing as new worries flooded my brain. This had become way too real.

  “Alison, she ran out on me. I thought she might have come here?” She pushed her way through the door, looking about frantically. Her dark spirit pulsed around me, her touch leaving a frightening sense of being unclean and in danger.

  “No, she’s not here right now.” Oh goddess, be with me now.

  “But she was, right? What did she say? You have to tell me!”

  “Calm down. Granny’s upstairs asleep. And Constable Jim is with her.” Best to let her think we still had police presence. I licked my lips, my mo
uth gone dry.

  She spotted Star and gave a hiss. “What did Alison say to you?”

  “You’ll need to talk to her about that. Constable Collins is with her at the detachment. You should go there,” I encouraged her, anything to get her to leave and take her vileness with her. I put a hand out to direct her to turn around and leave, managing to barely overcome my horror.

  “Don’t you dare touch me!” she screamed. “You’re a bloody witch, that’s what you are.”

  “So?” I shrugged, trying hard to be brave and ignore the intense fear and hatred I was surrounded by. “Better that than a murderess.” The lethal word slipped out without warning.

  “How dare you! Who do you think you are!”

  “What’s going on?” Tulip came rushing down the stairs. “Granny’s trying to sleep!”

  “Granny, Granny, Granny! She’s not a bloody saint. Any more than any of you are. Just think of what you did to my Alison, Star. Freezing her out of the competition and taking what was rightfully hers all for your own. You think you can sing,” she scoffed. “My Alison has the voice of an angel.” Mrs. Smith’s face turned an alarming shade of pissed-off royal purple. Not the calm, smug banker’s wife anymore. Her true self stood exposed. But maybe we could get a confession out of her? People make all sorts of mistakes when they’re upset. Be brave. And where’s a good coven when you need it?

  “How dare you, you murderer!” I said. She rushed me as I spoke the condemning words, knocking me aside. It was then a gun seemed to magically appear in her right hand. Oh, goddess, no.

  “Put that down,” I said, my voice stronger than expected. It didn’t feel real though, having a lethal weapon pointed at me. I could see she had no idea of what she was doing. It was just a threat—there was no way would she use it. Right?

  She waved it about in a flashy manner, proving my assumption correct. She was a poisoner, a person better suited to the coward’s way of dealing with things. “I mean to do this. You tell me what Alison said or I will shoot one of you.”