by Cindy Stark
Madeline tsked. “His grandmother, my sister, would roll over in her grave if she knew how shabby her son and daughter-in-law had treated her grandson. Peter was a handful for sure, but I loved every minute I had with him.”
Hazel tried to picture a younger Peter. “Knowing him now, I’m sure he was into everything.”
“That he was.”
The older woman blinked several times. “I was never able to have children, you see. So, it meant a lot that he liked to be with me.”
Hazel would need to make sure that she and Peter visited more often. She focused warm and loving feelings in Madeline’s direction, hoping to ease the ache of loss.
Madeline straightened her spine, and her sadness seemed to evaporate. “Then I go and invite you here to celebrate your wedding and proceed to drop a bomb right in the middle of it.”
Hazel gave a soft laugh. “Peter would have been mad if you hadn’t called him.”
She shook her head. “But I shouldn’t have lied about it. This isn’t much of a honeymoon. I should have been straight with him from the start as to why I wanted you both here.”
Hazel opened her senses, trying to get a feel for Madeline’s sincerity. Of course, she’d want Peter there for support, but was it to help her because she was innocent or because she was guilty? Hazel didn’t want to believe the latter, but she’d been fooled before and intended to be careful this time.
She sent Peter’s aunt a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry about it. He promised me a trip to Barbados long before your invitation, and I intend to hold him to it. This is a nice, little side trip before the actual honeymoon.”
Madeline lifted her coffee cup, and her hand shook a little. “That’s kind of you to be so forgiving.”
Hazel wondered if her shaking was the effects of aging or nervousness? “While we were at the restaurant last night, we learned that the coffee that supposedly killed Olive came from here.”
Madeline snorted. “It’s true, and here we are drinking more of it.”
Hazel glanced at the innocuous liquid in the mug before her. “Do you think Alberto could have spiked Olive’s coffee?”
Peter’s great aunt gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t think so. Alberto’s a good man. Why would he?”
Hazel lifted suggestive brows. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. What can you tell me about him? About his relationship with Olive, if he had one?”
Madeline shook her head dismissively. “I don’t think she had any more of a relationship with Alberto than I did. Just two regular customers, like most everyone else in the village. Alberto’s fairly new to the area. Moved from the west coast. Been here…maybe two years. He serves great food, and you can see how lovely the atmosphere is.”
“Agreed on both accounts.”
The older lady sighed. “I might as well confess now, though. This is the first time I’ve been back to this place since Olive’s death. It’s been hard to go out much at all with everyone speculating, so I appreciate your willingness to accompany me.”
“Of course. You have no reason to hide in your house. I’m sure people who know you, know that.”
Madeline didn’t seem convinced. “I’ve heard that Alberto’s angry about being implicated in Olive’s murder, and I worry that he thinks I’m the one who did it. After all, I was the last to see her.”
“That we know of,” Hazel countered. “It’s quite possible that someone went to her office after you.”
Madeline’s expression grew doubtful. “Except I was the last person the cameras captured going into the building that would fit with the time of death.”
That was a very unfortunate fact. Hazel dropped her shoulders, feeling the weight of what they were up against. Madeline had the perfect opportunity, but did she have motive? “You said that you didn’t have a great relationship with Olive. Was it just about her job and boyfriend?”
Madeline’s eyes flashed in defense. “We didn’t get along, but I didn’t hate her enough to kill her.”
Hazel quickly shook her head. “Of course not. I’m just wondering if someone might have used you and your well-known dislike of Olive to frame you.”
Peter’s aunt widened her eyes as though shocked. “You think whoever did it is out to get me, too?”
Hazel shrugged. “Maybe, or maybe you were just an easy target for them to use.”
She placed a hand on her neck and released a shuddered breath. “I guess I never really thought of it that way. Someone might have used me as a deadly weapon.”
The thought of the older woman being a killing machine was so ludicrous that it almost made Hazel smile, but she supposed it could be true enough. “So, I’ve met three out of the four people who were involved in the deadly coffee delivery. Can you tell me more about her sister who purchased the mug?”
Madeline nodded. “Vera, Olive’s younger sister. She’s the village’s librarian, and they lived together.”
Seemed innocuous, but one never knew. “What was their relationship like?”
The older woman drank her coffee and nodded as though that would help her remember. “Fine, I think. I mean, Olive was a difficult person, so I’m sure it wasn’t all roses, but they seemed to get along okay.”
The door between the kitchen and dining room burst open, and Hazel jerked her gaze in that direction. She was shocked to see Alberto striding toward them. If his reddened face wasn’t an indication, the heated vibes coming from him warned her that he was angry.
Within seconds, Alberto was at their table. He clenched his jaw and leaned close to Madeline. “I don’t know what you’re doing in my restaurant, but I want you out. I don’t need you or the trouble you’re bringing with you, giving me a bad name. It’s hard enough to keep business in good standing with people whispering about my poison coffee.”
Madeline reared back in defense. “How dare you accuse me of causing this trouble? I’m as innocent in this as you are.”
He pointed a sharp finger at her. “I don’t care. I want you out.”
No doubt that he meant it. Hazel ached to stand up and give the man a piece of her mind, but she knew Peter wouldn’t appreciate that. Too bad he wasn’t there to intervene, but it looked like it was up to her to keep the peace and save his aunt’s reputation from further damage.
Hazel placed a hand on Madeline’s arm. “We should go.”
Madeline inhaled a deep breath as though preparing to verbally lash Alberto, but Hazel pushed back from the table and stood. She wedged her way between Alberto and Madeline, and he stepped back.
Hazel slid her hand down to the older woman’s and clasped it. “It won’t do any good to cause a bigger scene, and we don’t want to be where we’re not welcome,” she said in a quiet tone.
Madeline heaved a disgusted sigh and stood. She dug in her purse and pulled out a wallet.
Alberto vehemently shook his head. “I don’t want your money. I want you both out, and don’t come back.”
“Come on,” Hazel encouraged.
Madeline stuffed the wallet back inside and pulled her jacket from the back of the chair. “I have never been treated so rudely or insulted so thusly in my life. When this is all over, Alberto Russo, you will be begging for the chance to apologize to me.”
“Out,” he replied.
Hazel linked her arm through Madeline’s as she considered the woman’s use of thusly and led her to the exit.
Peter would have been proud of her. Short of using a hex to temporarily cause Alberto to lose his voice, she’d handled things well.
Twelve
Hazel kept her arm linked through Madeline’s as they strode down the sidewalk and increased the distance between them and Alberto’s Bistro. Overhead gulls swooped through the blue sky, serenading the puffy clouds with their cries. A brisk wind whipped through Sandpiper Bay, but the sun warmed Hazel’s head and shoulders, and neither of them stopped to put on their jackets.
The older lady had a lot of stamina when she was angry, and Hazel cou
ld now picture the vibrant aunt Peter had talked about.
When they were several blocks away, Madeline slid from Hazel’s hold and slowed her gait. She released a weighted sigh. “I’m fine. Really.”
Hazel glanced over the older woman, noting her pink cheeks, and hoping the color was from exertion and no longer anger. “I know you’re fine. I just wanted to lend my support.”
Madeline sniffed. “I appreciate that, and I’m so glad I didn’t go there on my own. I think deep down, I knew he’d act like an ill-mannered heathen.”
Hazel searched for words that wouldn’t inflame the situation. “He likely is suffering from the same stress you are, being a suspect, too.”
She huffed. “He’s likely a suffering idiot, if you ask me.”
Hazel smiled at the touch of humor that accompanied Madeline’s words. If she could joke about it, the heat of anger had passed. “I’m sure he’ll greatly regret it when the truth comes out.”
“Oh, you bet he will. You didn’t see me treating him like a felon, and for all we know, he could be the murderer.”
Peter’s aunt had a point. Madeline wasn’t happy being a person of interest, but she’d been able to maintain her composure. In contrast, Alberto’s reaction to Madeline at his restaurant had been extreme. Hazel had to wonder why.
As Peter liked to say, where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and she would surely be discussing Alberto and his possible motives with her husband when she returned to the bungalow.
First though, she needed to make sure his aunt was okay.
Hazel pointed toward two benches that flanked a time-worn wooden footbridge across the street, smaller than the one the police chief had fished off the night before. “Would you mind if we rested for a bit? The view looks lovely from over there.”
Madeline narrowed her gaze in suspicion. “Someone as young as you can’t be tired, yet. No, I think you’re fussing over me, but don’t. I said I was fine, and I meant it.”
Hazel assumed her best innocent expression. “Oh, no. I just thought it looked like a lovely view. Peter will be working most of the day, so I didn’t see a reason to hurry home unless you have stuff you need to do.”
Peter’s aunt nodded, but Hazel could tell she was still suspicious. “If it’s that you don’t want to go back, then I have an alternate proposal. How would you like to visit the library instead?”
Hazel’s brows shot up in surprise, and her heart thumped harder in excitement. “For a book?” she asked cautiously.
Madeline snorted. “For a book? Heavens, no. I’d like to pay a visit to Vera and see what she has to say. Now that I have a friend to watch out for me, I’d like some answers. Vera is the one who gave me that cursed mug. I wonder how she feels about that.”
The better half of Hazel’s conscience warned against putting Peter’s aunt in another situation that had the potential to upset her. Then again, Hazel didn’t know Vera at all, and she doubted she’d be able to get the woman to talk to her without Madeline being present. This might be Hazel’s only chance to question Vera.
Madeline eyed her. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
Hazel chuckled. She’d just been challenged by a woman old enough to be her grandmother, over whether she dared to talk to a suspect. Please. “No, I’m not scared. At least not of Vera. But Peter might have my hide for accompanying you on what he’d call an interrogation.”
Madeline waved away her fears with a flick of the hand. “Don’t you worry about him. I’ll handle things if he has a fit.”
Hazel didn’t doubt that she could. The longer she was with Madeline, the more she realized Peter’s aunt was a tough old bird. One who was adamant on getting answers…with a doggedness a guilty person might not have.
She caught Madeline’s gaze, and a grin tickled the corners of her mouth. “I’m in.”
Madeline clapped her hands together and chuckled with glee. “We’ll be the fiercest duo detectives in New England.”
“Okay,” Hazel said with a laugh. “But don’t tell my husband.”
Peter’s aunt slipped her arm through Hazel’s again and directed them toward the library. Before long, Madeline pointed at a creamy white stone building with a columned portico that was surrounded by trees. A tall wrought-iron gate stood open to welcome visitors. “It’s just ahead.”
Its stately beauty immediately charmed Hazel. “I love old buildings. Makes me happy that towns and villages preserved the history when, sometimes, it would be easier to knock them down and start fresh.”
Madeline agreed with a nod. “I try to stop by once a week and grab a new dark thriller and a romance.”
The older woman surprised Hazel yet again. “A dark thriller?”
Madeline looked at her with a very serious expression. “And a romance or two. It’s all about balance.”
All about balance? Hazel shook her head and smiled.
“I’ve been to your library, you know,” Madeline announced as they turned on the sidewalk that led to the entrance.
Hazel drew her brows together. “In Stonebridge?”
“Yes. That curly-headed Timothy who works there wouldn’t stop talking about witches from the past and how the citizens back then should have taken better care to kill them all.”
Hazel froze her features before they betrayed her and worked to keep her breathing even. Timothy was singing a slightly different tune these days, but she couldn’t tell Madeline, or she would wonder why. “He’s an odd one for sure.”
Madeline peered at her with what Hazel swore was a probing gaze. “He told me he thinks we should ship all witches off to a deserted island where they can’t hurt anyone but themselves.”
Hazel nodded slowly without giving away the emotions churning inside her. “We do have some interesting people living there.”
She released Madeline’s arm and reached to open the library door for her, searching for a change of subject. “I sure hope we’ll learn something from Vera.”
The mention of Olive’s sister stole Madeline’s attention, and she nodded fervently. “I do, too. Now, stay quiet, and let me do the talking.”
Hazel clamped her lips shut and nodded. Madeline knew Vera and the other people in the village far more than she did. She might as well let her take the lead.
At least to start.
The interior of Sandpiper Bay’s library reminded her very much of the one in Stonebridge. Scents of time and towers of books greeted them. Hazel caught sight of a flyer with book club dates and another announcing a piano concert. She might have to suggest those ideas to Timothy. Certainly, Stonebridge’s citizens would love to have a book club, and it would give the librarian other things to think about and keep him out of trouble.
Not that he could argue much since she knew his darkest secret, knew that he’d do anything not to have his ties to the ancient witches become public knowledge. The thought brought a big smile to her face.
Madeline approached the central counter, and a thin woman with straight, white-blond hair, light skin, and pale blue eyes looked up from the desk beyond. She gave them a gentle smile. “Oh, hello, Madeline. Nice to see you today.”
Her voice was as soft as her features.
Hazel tilted her head, thinking it odd that this woman who’d just lost a sister appeared so composed. It was hard to believe this gentle soul could hurt, let alone kill, anyone, but something seemed out of place.
“Hello, Vera,” Madeline responded and then turned to Hazel. “This is my nephew’s new wife, Hazel. They’re visiting me for a couple of days.”
Vera stood and approached them. “How nice for you.”
The librarian nodded in greeting to Hazel, and Hazel responded with a smile. “This is a very nice library you have here.”
“Thank you,” she said in a quiet, almost timid voice. “I do my best to make it a welcoming place.”
Madeline reached across the counter and placed a wrinkly hand on Vera’s smooth-skinned one. “I wanted to stop by and check on you. Are you
doing okay?”
Hazel could tell by the way Peter’s aunt spoke to her that she cared for the young woman.
A flicker of pain haunted Vera’s eyes, but she quickly blinked it away. “As well as can be expected, I guess. Coming to work helps me to focus on something else.”
Madeline nodded. “Of course. Of course. I understand the funeral is at the end of the week.”
Vera pulled her hand from beneath Madeline’s and folded with her other in front of her, on the counter. “Yes.”
“If there’s anything I can help with,” Madeline offered.
“Thank you,” Vera responded, and Hazel ascertained the conversation was going nowhere fast.
“Vera?” Hazel said. “I know you don’t know me, but my husband and I are here to help support Madeline through her ordeal, and we would very much like to help discover who killed your sister.”
Vera lowered dubious brows. “How could you possibly do that?”
Hazel squared her shoulders confidently. “Peter is the chief of police in our hometown, and I have some experience helping him. We’d like to help you, too.”
“They’re very smart,” Madeline interjected. “You can trust them.”
Vera shrugged. “I suppose, but I don’t know what to tell you.”
Hazel recognized her opportunity and jumped at it. “Could we talk to you for a few minutes? Here at the desk or somewhere more private if you wish?”
Vera glanced over her shoulder. “I do have a small office in the back. I can put the bell out in case anyone needs me.”
Madeline’s hopeful smile grew bigger. “That would be perfect. I know I don’t like the ugly cloud hanging over me, and I’m sure suspicions about you are the last thing you need on top of everything else.”
Vera stepped to the swinging gate that separated her area from the public one and held it open while they passed through. She led them to a tiny office that had been furnished with a small mahogany desk and a stuffed green leather chair. Two guest chairs covered in dusty pink fabric filled the rest of the space.
