A Corpse at the Polls: An Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic Cozy Mystery (Ella Sweeting: Witch Aromatherapist Cozies Book 3)

by Lisbeth Reade

  The waitress walked over and handed out water glasses and a full pitcher. She also had two beers and two white wines. I grinned. Once the orders were in, I sipped appreciatively.

  "So Ruby, how is the case going?" I asked.

  "Caitlyn Jones is refusing to speak with us. She says the trauma was too much. But she is also threatening to sue the department if we don't find her attackers," Ruby said.

  "What about the cups?" I asked.

  "You were right," Ruby told me. "The coffee was laced with a sleeping aid."

  I leaned forward. "Tell me it's the same one found in Helen's system, and I'll tell you that we are getting somewhere."

  "We are getting somewhere," Ruby said grimly.

  "I thought we weren't going to talk about the case tonight," Max interrupted. He looked peeved.

  "Fine, fine, I'm just glad Andy was at the hospital today watching over Garza," I said to Ruby.

  Ruby frowned. "I just wish she'd wake up."

  There was a ruckus behind me. Rory turned to look and tapped my shoulder. I turned to see Caitlyn Jones arguing with Mike Hutchinson. I got up and moved closer so I could hear. Rory and Ruby followed me.

  "...and don't think I don't know that it was you," Caitlyn shouted. "Who else would it be? What did you do, go to her apartment for tea and she turned you down? What are you doing, Mike? Bumping off old girlfriends and killing the competition at the same time?"

  Mike Hutchinson tried to shush her. "Cat, you are making a fuss over nothing. Helen and I were friends. I would never hurt her. Or you."

  She smiled tightly. "Never hurt me? What do you call the way you treated me?"

  "That was twenty years ago," Mike said in a low, dangerous tone. "Cat, I am a happily married man."

  "A married man who was the last person to see Helen alive," Caitlyn Jones said loudly. "Don't deny it."

  PR people swarmed in and pulled them apart. Caitlyn looked like she was going to slap him as her man pulled her away, but instead she shouted out one last barb. "I'm not going to let you kill me too, Mike."

  Chapter 9

  Stunned, I let Rory pull me back to the table. Ruby rushed past us to diffuse the situation. People were shouting and the press swarmed everyone until Ruby ushered them outside. Ten minutes later she came back red-faced and grumbling.

  "Caitlyn is gone. She's ridiculous! I'm so sorry, guys. A cop is always on duty," Ruby told us and took a sip of her wine to calm down. Her phone rang. She bit her lip and glanced at it warily. But then here eyes widened. "It's the hospital."

  I motioned for her to answer it. Rory grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed.

  Ruby took a deep breath and answered. "Yeah? Oh. Right. Well, how soon? Okay, we're on our way. Yes. Yeah, you better. Don't leave, Andy. Yeah. Right. Great!"

  She stuffed the phone into her purse and stood up, motioning at us. Max dropped cash onto the table. Rory and I stood up, confused. "We have to go. Garza's awake."

  Rory and I exchanged cheesy grins and hugged. We would have done a victory dance if we weren't in a restaurant. Ruby caught the waitress and explained as we made our way through the crowded room to the cars. Max's face was a flat, angry mask. I caught his eye and he held my gaze. Ruby grabbed his hand and tugged. He turned his face towards her.

  "She woke up about twenty minutes ago." Ruby informed us. "She's pretty out of it, but the doctors say she looks good. Brainwave patterns and blood gases and all sorts of things Daniels wasn't sure about sounded good. He was babbling a bit. We have to rush if we want to talk to her. Doctor Lane wants to run tests."

  I hopped into Rory's car. He ran around to the driver's side. Ruby went with Max and we agreed to meet at the hospital. It was only a five-minute ride.

  As soon as the doors were closed, Rory asked, "Why did Max seem distinctly unhappy that Garza was awake?"

  "Noticed that too, did you? Darn, I was hoping I just imagined it." I grumbled.

  "Sorry, Ella," he said as he drove us to the hospital. "Max just rubs me the wrong way."

  "Me too, and I know he's dirty. That envelope exchange wasn't recipes. I bet it was kickbacks or shady deals or..." I sighed. "Problem is, I can't prove any of it and if I do it's going to lose me Ruby."

  Rory's hand dropped to my knee. The weight and warmth of his hand comforting. He flipped it palm up so I could drop my hand into his. "Let's take one thing at a time. What do you think Mike Hutchinson did to Caitlyn Jones twenty years ago? Stand her up? Jilt her for Helen? Could be a big clue as to which one of them had it in for Helen."

  "Something's bothering me," I said. "When I went to see Helen, her tea set was already out and in use. It means she knew her killer and was comfortable enough to turn her back on him or her. And we've been told that Mike and Helen still got together. I'd hate to think it was Mike, but what if it was Mike?"

  Rory frowned. "Well, let's go see what Garza says about it. We're here. Hop out. I'll park and meet you upstairs."

  I did and he drove off with an encouraging wave. I raced up the steps and ran into Ruby and Max at the elevators, just as one arrived. In seconds, we were upstairs and going down the hallway to Garza's room. I flashed backed to what Sarah had said about her little piece of magic being undetectable. I wondered just what that little sachet had done and thanked it and Aunt Sarah if it was the reason Garza was finally awake.

  Andy Daniels was sweaty with a strained grin on his face. The crowd outside the hospital was the obvious cause of his distress. He was holding his hands up. "The doctors told me one at a time, okay? Ruby, go ahead and..."

  Poor Andy! We all just pushed past him and surrounded the bed, where a harassed nurse was setting up a new IV bag and watching the monitors. She looked like she might protest the circus pouring into the room but she just grit her teeth and went back to work. Garza's eyes were open and her head turned toward me. She frowned.

  "Rosa," Ruby said in a hushed tone. "Hi, welcome back."

  "Ruby," Garza grumbled, "how's my station?"

  "One minute away from burning to the ground," Ruby told her as she took the older woman's hand. "The cops panicked without you and I had to feed them a steady diet of pizza and caffeine to keep them from being lured away by the next department over."

  A dry, croaky laugh escaped Garza's pale lips. "Sounds about right," she murmured.

  I grabbed the water pitcher, filled the cup and offered it to her with a straw. She eyed me as she sipped.

  "Sweeting, I see you're still in the thick of it," she said dryly, and it was reassuring to have that annoyance directed at me again.

  I grinned. "Wouldn't want it any other way. How are you feeling?"

  Garza swallowed and I offered her more water. She sipped delicately. "Like I was hit by a train and dragged over cactus."

  "So, same as always?" Ruby asked.

  Garza grinned, wide enough to show teeth.

  "Did you see who hit you?" Rory asked, his voice sounding loud in the crowded hospital room.

  "Aren't you my mailman?" Garza said, trying to place him. "Rory Williams...I know you."

  "Yes ma'am, I was, ah, locked in the trunk of a car with Ella recently," he explained.

  "Everything leads back to Sweeting," Garza said, arching a brow at me.

  Ruby fussed with Garza's blanket and then plumped her pillow. The sachet fell to the floor. I quickly covered it with my foot. Garza looked annoyed at being fussed over. She grabbed Ruby's hand to stop her.

  "I know who did it," Garza said, "the murder..."

  All sound in the room died. We focused on her, and she seemed to grow smaller under our gaze.

  "S'was easy. Piece of cake. Killer dropped a business card...plus the tea..." Garza stopped talking, her eyes going wild. Her body shook and the monitors exploded into beeping.

  A doctor pushed his way into the melee. Rory caught my eye and slipped outside, and Max followed. I tried to go too, but I was trapped between the doctor and the exit. Ruby was crying silently. I picked the sachet up and stuffe
d it into my pocket.

  The nurse ushered us out into the hall. I turned what Garza had said over and over again in my mind. There had been a white business card on the ground. In the hall, we stared at each other. Everyone was ashen with shock. Max was holding Ruby up. And all I could think about was that card.

  "White business card," Rory muttered.

  "Like the one the Mayor had," I added.

  "Max's card? The one that said 'Get him to take care of it' on the back in blue ink?" Rory asked, his eyes darting to Max.

  We both stared at Maxwell Stewart. His eyes grew stormy. If looks could kill, Rory and I would have fallen to the floor and melted into dust.

  "Just what exactly are you accusing me of, Sweeting? Not satisfied with putting my sister in jail? Can't rest until I join her?"

  "I still have a hard time believing she was the evil twin," I shot back, reacting to his nasty tone.

  "How dare you?" Max's eyes narrowed, and he looked dangerous.

  "What was in the envelope, Max? The one the mayor handed you. Was that bribe? A pay off?"

  His eyes flashed. "Are you spying on me, Ella?"

  "Someone has to," I growled.

  But that was a mistake. Ruby turned on me. "I am sick of this. Stop accusing Max. I get it. You hate him. But he hasn't done anything wrong. Get out of here." She shouted, eyes flashing.

  I deflated. "Ruby, I'm sor— "

  "I don't care. You're a nasty, spiteful person. I don't need your help anymore. Go home. I catch you near this case again and I will personally make sure you are arrested for interfering with an investigation. You too, Rory Williams. To think I thought you were my friends. Get out!"

  I had to explain. I surged forward, but Andy and Rory bracketed me, pulling me back. "Ruby!" I shouted.

  But she turned her back on me, burrowing into Max's fancy European cut suit, entirely missing the triumphant expression on that jerk's face. I tried again but the boys frog-marched me outside and into the night air. The cold took my breath away. Fine time for the weather to break! I started shivering, either from cold or adrenalin, I wasn't sure.

  Rory and Andy were whispering. I spun to face them.

  Andy retreated, his gaze flicking between my angry eyes and Rory's worried ones. "I have to get back to Garza. I'm on duty," he said apologetically.

  Rory grabbed me gently by the elbow and led me back to the car. "Listen Ella, I think we have a real problem."

  "Yeah, I know, Ruby is furious!" I exclaimed. "And that weasel is digging his claws deeper and deeper into our friend."

  "No, no. Well yes, that's true, but listen," Rory began, "Garza says she knows who the killer is."

  I nodded, trying to follow him. My mind was still hot and hurt from the argument with Ruby. In contrast to me, Rory looked thoughtful.

  "Oh," I said, catching his drift. "If she knows, and now a roomful of people know that she knows..."

  "She's in danger," Rory finished.

  I shivered. "And she's unconscious. Helpless. Trapped in a bed."

  Rory leaned against his car, fishing in his pocket for the keys. "Exactly," he said grimly. "So what are we going to do about it?"

  I bit my lip, thinking. "Okay, so this is the plan. We go back to my house and wait."

  "I don't see how that's going to help," Rory began.

  "Well, we need to make it look like we're gone for the night. Then we sneak back here and guard Garza. If we get lucky, the killer turns up. We nab him and Garza is safe." I smacked one hand against the other, simulating the closing of a mousetrap.

  He grimaced. "Yeah, or we get murdered."

  "We're not going to get murdered," I said. I was going to arrange some protection of the magical variety, not that I could explain that to Rory. "Because we will be ready for anything. And in the meantime Girard can brew us some strong coffee and feed us, seeing that our dinner got interrupted."

  Rory's stomach growled. "Okay, you got me on the food part. Better call ahead. Let your mother know we're coming. But no midnight strolls through the rose garden," he admonished.

  "Why? That sounds so romantic," I teased.

  "Not with your mother telling us all about mold and mildew and," he shuddered, "black spots. Honestly."

  "Fine, I promise to be your only floral tour guide from now on. Happy?" I asked as he opened the door for me.

  "Very. Now call ahead. I want food waiting. Or I might just waste away to nothing."

  Ten minutes later, we arrived home. Inside, the Aunts were a riot of conversation. I ignored them so I could get Rory settled in the kitchen with my father, who decided to keep us company by taking tea and cake with us. He grinned at Rory and offered him bourbon.

  Rory declined as Girard arrived with a large pot of coffee. I filled mugs for each of us. Girard gave me a look for being so informal with a guest, but I had long since learned to tune out his disapproval. I winked at him and he left in a huff. He was back in seconds with plates piled high with pasta and a bowl that smelled a lot like garlic bread.

  "Thanks, Girard! I'm starved," Rory said, and earned a look himself. He blinked, confused. "Did I do something wrong?"

  "Oh, Girard's old fashioned," Father said. "The mark of a good servant is that you don't notice them or some such nonsense."

  Good thing Mother wasn't here to hear him call propriety nonsense. He reached over to the bowl, flipped the towel open and tweaked a piece of garlic bread. "Ignore him. He likes it."

  "Our man Butcher was like that," Rory said, reminding me that he had been well off once, too. "But he made an exception for me. Guess I've been out among the people too long now."

  Father cracked up. "Yes. But that's where all the fun is."

  I was too busy twirling fettucini on my fork to participate in the chatter. I needed to eat and get some alone time with the Aunts before we went back to the hospital to arrange something magical to keep Rory and myself out of trouble. Also, I was curious to see if the sachet falling to the floor had contributed to Garza's fit. If it had, I needed a new and better one to slip under her pillow.

  After four slices of garlic bread, I spotted Trouble as the cat wandered into the dining room. He sat down beside me. Languidly he tapped my knee. "The Aunts want a word with you."

  I raised an eyebrow at him. It wasn't like Trouble to be useful.

  "They said there's a can of tuna in it for me. Cat I may be, but I'm not above a bribe. Hop to it, Ella." He said, then moved over to Rory who he knew was a soft touch and meowed.

  I pulled my chair out.

  "I'll be right back," I said, but I needn't have bothered. My father and Rory were discussing the election and the mail. They wouldn't notice me leaving for a good year.

  I slipped into the sitting room to see the Aunts all waiting on the love seat together. I launched into a brief description of everything that had happened in the investigation, at the aborted dinner, and the hospital. When I was done, my audience turned to one another and all started talking at once.

  "Hey," I said. "I don't have much time here. Spill."

  "Oh, Ella," Aunt Sarah began. "That sachet needed to stay there for a full twenty-four hours. I'll make a more potent one and give it to you. But you have to make sure it doesn't leave her. I'll shorten the time on it to six hours. And before you ask, no it would not have hurt her to remove it." She got up and left.

  Aunt Hazel had scribbled a few things on a piece of paper. "Okay, here. Learn this one before you go tonight. It will help keep people from sneaking up on you. Oh, and there are two other spells on the back that might come in handy."

  Nodding, I took the paper and read the instructions. "Will this work? And do you have chalk?"

  Auntie Joe handed me a bright blue piece of chalk. "Are you sure about this?"

  "Very. Detective Garza is counting on me. I'm not about to let her down. Rory and I are going to catch that killer tonight."

  Chapter 10

  Getting into the hospital was easy. We just walked right in. And by we, I me
an Rory, me, Auntie Joe and Aunt Sarah. Rory said we should bring someone the guards wouldn't know to distract them so we could slip by without them noticing. It was a clever plan, but it got cleverer because it meant I could send a witch up to deal with the guard.

  "Wish me luck," Auntie Joe said and took the elevator to Garza's floor.

  We did and immediately snuck around to the stairs. The hospital was brightly lit but there were no visitors at this hour so we made sure to stay out of the way. Rory made us all duck into an empty room when the janitor went by. Luckily she was wearing headphones and singing softly to herself and didn't notice us at all. We didn't relax until we had made it to the stairwell.

  Rory leaned against the metal door of the stairwell. "Okay, so hopefully Auntie Joe takes care of the guard... and then what?"

  "I'm going into the room to protect Garza," I whispered. "I told you that. And you are going to keep watch from the hall."

  Rory nodded. "Right. And come running in to save you if things get hairy."

  "Yes, please," I said. "I don't want to end up in the bed next to Garza."

  "Wait, what about me?" Aunt Sarah asked.

  "You stay with me. Auntie Joe goes outside to see who is coming in at this hour, just in case the killer gets away. I told her not to grab anyone or do any heroics. Just get a picture or a description or something," I whispered. "Let's go."

  We ducked out of the stairwell. I checked both ways, but didn't see anyone. Rory leaned against the wall, trying to look casual. I squeezed his arm and continued down the hall, running straight into Mike Hutchinson. I tried to backpedal as soon I saw him, but he was moving at a good clip and we collided.

  "Oomph!" I was nearly smothered by his cologne and I got tangled in his scarf.

  "I am so sorry. I didn't see you there," Mike said, his voice warm, if a bit harassed.

  I ended up with his scarf over my shoulder as we pulled apart. "No, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going," I said pulling the scarf from myself and noticing it was maroon. "Um," I muttered, flipping the scarf over and swallowing hard as I recognized the pattern. My mind flashed to the image of Helen Christianson in her kitchen, lying on the floor, strangled with a scarf— this scarf— wrapped around her poor throat.