1 Meows, Magic & Murder

by Madison Johns

  “Meow, meow,” Pansy wailed.

  “I can see that I’ll have to bring Pansy with me today. It just won’t be safe for Pansy to stay home, not with Merlin on the rampage.”

  They ate breakfast and Petunia caught sight of Melvin running across her backyard with Noah chasing after him, vigorously shaking a can of treats. Petunia tried not to stare too pointedly since Noah only wore jeans and no shirt, his rippling muscles in perfect gawking view. No, Petunia. Don’t look at Noah! Oh, God, was he ever in shape.

  “Petunia, whatever are you staring at?” Aunt Maxine asked. She turned and muttered, “Oh, welcome to the neighborhood.”

  Petunia buried her face in her cup, or as near as she could, guzzling the coffee down.

  “Don’t act so coy, dear. It’s not like you’re gawking or anything.” She batted her eyelashes for emphasis.

  “No, I wasn’t. I just wondered why Melvin is running around like that again. He said that he only does that when he’s frightened by a cat, and mine are all here.” She took a mental count of her cats, and frowned. “Hey, where is Pansy now?”

  “Looks like he slipped out the rip in your screen door. I thought you were planning on having that fixed.”

  Petunia stood up. “I was, but then I found a body.”

  “Well, don’t just stand there, get your cat before he gets gobbled up by that Pit, or, er ... he scares that dog again. I’d hate to see Noah have to chase his dog all over town again. It might not bode for him well in the next election.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  After Petunia went out the door, she raced after Pansy, who was having fun hissing and pawing at Melvin, who then ran the opposite way, much to Noah’s displeasure as noted by his narrowed eyes.

  “Can’t you catch that cat of yours?” Noah grumbled.

  “I could say the same about your dog. He needs obedience classes, from the looks of it.”

  “Pansy, if you don’t stop this nonsense right now, I’m going to let Merlin outside and then you’ll really be in trouble.”

  Pansy bounded toward Petunia. “What are you talking about?”

  Just then, a tiger cat entered her yard. “Hurry up. We have company, or specifically, you do.”

  The tiger cat raced forward and Petunia picked Pansy up just before the cat got too close. “What have you done to anger every cat in the neighborhood?”

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you, Petunia,” Pansy wailed all the way to Lucy’s house. “I can’t believe you turned me into a cat and now I have to deal with all of the cats in the neighborhood after me?”

  Petunia stopped walking, trying to regain her composure. “I didn’t mean to turn you into a cat, for one thing, and how was I to know that you would find a way to make so many cats come after you. You really need to try to play nice. Did you do something to make the other cats angry?”

  “Oh, uhm ... no, I have no idea.”

  “I find that hard to believe, but it might just be they’re tired of you scaring Melvin. Most cats don’t know he’s harmless and actually afraid of cats.”

  “Expressions, dear. You really need to learn how to not move your lips when you talk to that cat,” Aunt Maxine said.

  Petunia sighed. “Oh, what’s the use? There’s no way I can make it up to Jeremy, I mean Pansy, for what I’ve done to him.”

  “You could at least try to turn him back,” Aunt Maxine suggested. “Who knows, you might just get lucky on your first try. We’ll have to take a look at the potion book when we get to the shop.”

  Petunia wasn’t so sure, but she owed Jeremy that much, a real chance to try to at least turn him back into human form. Although that worried her, too. What would he do to her if he was a man once again?

  “Run, run as far away from you as I can,” Pansy said, jumping into her thoughts. “I just think you should at least attempt to turn me back.”

  “And what if you turn into a frog or grow an extra head? There are worse things to be than a cat, you know.”

  “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

  As they neared Lucy’s house she was outside, pushing a lawnmower across her yard at quite a quick pace. She waved and cut off the engine when she locked eyes with Petunia.

  Petunia held on tight to Pansy’s leash as Lucy gave her a tight hug. “Oh, here’s the golden girl, now. I can’t thank you enough for that salve. I’ve never felt so great in my life.”

  “Isn’t mowing the lawn tiring for you?” Petunia asked Lucy.

  “Well, I cleaned my house top to bottom already, so there wasn’t much else to do. Watch this.”

  Petunia bit a fist as Lucy threw out her arms and did a cartwheel, a real cartwheel! She couldn’t even do one of those. “Stop, Lucy. You might hurt yourself.”

  She laughed. “Don’t worry about that. My doctor gave me the all clear. He told me whatever I was doing to limber up was working. All signs of my arthritis are gone, too. I’d kiss you if you weren’t a girl.”

  Petunia laughed nervously. “How much of the salve did you use?”

  “The whole container. You’d better make some more, and pronto. I let it slip that you’d whipped up a concoction for me.”

  “I really wish you hadn’t. I’m not even sure of the recipe I used. I mean, I didn’t jot it down, even. I’m just worried that this might be temporary and you’ll have your arthritis back in time.”

  Lucy frowned. “I see. Well, even if it does come back, I’m still thankful for the time I have now feeling great. I’m training for the marathon that they hold at the Lake Forest Country Club. I’m in the seventy-plus group. I’m going to have them old folks eating my dust.”

  Petunia tried to be happy for Lucy, but somehow she saw a downside to this all. “I’m glad that it worked for you and hope that it lasts.”

  Petunia gave Pansy’s leash a small tug until he moved back up the street and toward Mystical Remedies. Her heart just throbbed in pain now. She just was sick about that salve and what it had done for Lucy. She was happy that Lucy felt much better, but she couldn’t help but think that if only she had used less, that the results might have been more consistent for her. Nobody Lucy’s age needed to be doing cartwheels or running a marathon. If she dropped dead, everyone in town would be pointing their fingers right at Petunia.

  Aunt Maxine opened the door of Mystical Remedies and when Petunia entered, she sneezed with bubbles appearing and dancing about her head. “Oh, great. I thought I was cured. I didn’t sneeze one time last night at dinner.”

  “It might be a good time to take a look at the potion book. There might be a cure for your ailment.”

  “Or make it worse. No thanks. I can live with my bubbles, but will Lucy be able to live if she attempts a marathon?”

  “Have you ever thought about how you might just have real powers, Petunia?”

  “Powers, how?”

  “A little witchcraft might have rubbed off on you after following those recipes.” When Petunia frowned, Aunt Maxine added, “It just seems like you whipping up a batch of salve with that kind of results wasn’t so much an accident.”

  Petunia laughed. “Fine, think what you want, but there’s no way I’ll ever believe that was anything more than an accident. It’s not like I said any magic words. I hardly think saying, ‘Oh please let this work this time,’ is under the realm of a spell. Like I already told you, I have no clue what ingredients I used, or in what order. All I know is that I didn’t want Lucy to suffer anymore.”

  “You did that, Petunia. You actually made something that works, and works well, at that. See, I told you all you had to do was have some confidence in yourself.”

  “I suppose, but I can’t help but think something bad will come of it.”

  “That’s because you had a bad run of making potions that just didn’t turn out quite right.”

  “You’re right there, but I have more important things to worry about now. I had hoped to go on over to the government building and ask a few questi
ons about Helen Patterson since she worked there.”

  “I’d love to go along for the ride, or walk. I almost wished you’d given me that salve. My knees aren’t what they used to be. Seems that Lucy’s body wasn’t the only thing that improved. I’ve never seen her look so radiant or happy before.”

  “It was for you. I should have saved some for you, but you’re the last person I’d want to use as a guinea pig. I just felt bad for Lucy. At the meat market the other day, she could barely walk and nobody would even let the woman go ahead of them until a clerk finally helped her out. But only after I said something.”

  “You did good, Petunia. I’ll call Hazel and Wanda over to watch the shop for us while we’re out.”

  * * *

  Ten minutes after the call, Hazel and Wanda staggered in with a Starbucks cup in each of their hands. Yup, even a small town such as Lake Forest managed to be invaded by Starbucks—not that it made Petunia mad, since she loved the chai tea latte they made.

  Hazel grinned at Petunia. “I heard there’s some celebrating to do.”

  “I just whipped up an herbal salve, is all. Nothing to talk about, really.”

  Wanda put her hands on her thin hips. “She meant a date, dear. We heard through the grapevine that you were spotted at Mario’s with a dreadfully handsome man.”

  “Oh, that. It wasn’t a date. My new neighbor just asked me to have dinner with him, is all.”

  “Sounds like a date to me. Did he kiss you, at least?” Hazel asked, taking a sip of her drink.

  “No, I told you it wasn’t a date. He’s new in town and my neighbor, so he just wanted to get to know me better and—”

  Petunia abruptly clammed up with the realization that it did, indeed, sound more like a date all the time. Even their conversation sounded like it. They’d talked about their ex’s and their parents, even. No, it wasn’t a date at all, but she certainly enjoyed Noah’s company. Too bad he was planning on running for sheriff soon. Petunia was used to poking her nose in where it didn’t belong, and if Noah was ever really the sheriff, it just wouldn’t fly quite as well.

  Petunia gave Pansy’s leash a tug, but he kept where he was, yawning. “I can stay here,” he said, licking his paws.

  “Not after the mess you made of my aunt’s shop, you won’t. I’ll put you in my purse if I have to.”

  Pansy lowered his head. “Oh, all right, but why not do it now. I’m really tired.”

  “You’re also really heavy.”

  Pansy wouldn’t move until Petunia opened her purse enough for Pansy to crawl inside. This bag had several holes along the bottom of the purse that allowed for more air to drift into the bag so that Pansy wouldn’t suffocate. She held the straps of her purse, carrying it that way out the door with Aunt Maxine following her since her bag was much too heavy to put the strap over her shoulder.

  They ducked through a pathway that led from her aunt’s shop to the government building, crossing through a small park with benches where many people that worked in town ate their lunches. They all glanced up and stared as they passed through, and Petunia was more on edge than usual since Lucy had spilled the beans. She just was thankful that nobody stopped them.

  Petunia stared up at the three-story, brick building that housed the government offices. Inside at the counter was a cashier where you could pay your taxes or water bill. Behind that were a few desks where secretaries of government officials sat.

  They waited in line behind a man with a cane until a voice carried over to them. “I’m here to ask you a few questions about Helen Patterson,” a male voice said.

  Petunia stared across the waiting area and, sure enough, it was Noah standing near a doorway. She didn’t wait, but strode over there, not about to allow Noah to do what she had planned to today.

  As Noah walked into the room, Petunia followed him inside. Noah glanced over, irritated at the interruption, but didn’t say anything to Petunia, just to the woman who sat down. “I’m sorry about Helen’s death, but I had hoped you could tell—”

  He glanced over his shoulder at Petunia and Aunt Maxine, and faced the woman again. “I meant tell us what it was like working with Helen?”

  The woman fidgeted with a pencil. “It’s hard to say. She didn’t work here that long. She’s only been in town a four short months, before she met such a horrible end,” the woman cried, reaching for a tissue. “So shocking. I still can’t believe she’s gone. I can’t imagine who might have wanted to murder her so brutally.”

  “Did she talk about her life much?” Petunia asked.

  “Well, she was so upset about Jeremy Walter’s disappearance. She was dating him until one day—poof—he disappeared. I heard he was dating you—someone else, too,” she gulped.

  Petunia smiled kindly. “Yes, I was seeing him, but his disappearance was a shock to me, too.” She held her bag closer to her as Pansy spouted off with, “What a line of malarkey.”

  She sighed. “Calm yourself. If you can’t behave yourself, I’ll just take you home.”

  “Fine.”

  “You’re Petunia Patterson, right?”

  Petunia nodded. “And that I am.”

  “I-I didn’t mean anything by what I said. Please, don’t cast a spell on me.”

  Here we go again, thought Petunia. “Spells? Where on earth did you hear that I cast spells?” She frowned. “Let me guess. Helen, right?”

  “Well, yes, but it’s common knowledge that you and your family are—witches.”

  “Common knowledge, eh? And what else did Helen say about me, specifically?”

  “Just that both of you were dating Jeremy before he went missing, but you were the last person to see him before he disappeared.”

  “She’s got your number, all right,” Pansy said.

  Petunia tried to calm herself. If Helen knew that, then the sheriff did, too. “I can’t say for sure. I simply thought he went back to Grand Rapids, or was staying at Helen’s place. He was like that, you know. Never could make up his mind. I think he was playing the both of us.” She calmly added, “And, for the record, neither I nor my aunt are witches. That rumor began after my aunt inherited her house on the hill overlooking Lake Forest.”

  “But Anastasia Cuza was a witch, too.”

  “She was the only one in Lake Forest to ever claim to be a witch, but she was also a lonely old woman who my Aunt Maxine happened to befriend when she was but a teenager. I think you should get your facts straight before you start accusing anyone of being a witch, is all I’m saying.”

  “Of course. You’re right, Petunia.”

  “I didn’t mean to snap at you so. It’s just so tiresome to me to keep being accused of witchcraft over and over again. What I’m interested in and why I’m here today is to find out what you know about Helen. I’d like to track down who really murdered her. It’s so unnerving to think that someone is killing women with knitting needles. I can’t imagine who would do such a thing.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry for bringing up such a subject, and I can’t say I blame you for being so sensitive about being called a witch.”

  “That’s fine, really. But besides talking about Jeremy’s disappearance, did she talk about anything else?”

  “Just that she wished her neighbor, Cora, would mind her own business.”

  “I second that and I’ve only seen her a few times with her binoculars trained on my backyard,” Noah said.

  Aunt Maxine smiled at the woman, now. “What about before she came to town, dear? Did she mention anything about why she moved to Lake Forest?”

  “Actually, no.”

  “Thanks. What did you say your name was, dear?”

  “Gwen. I hope you find out who killed Helen and I really hope it doesn’t wind up being someone I know.”

  Petunia thanked Gwen for her information. “One more question. Did Helen ever mention any friends she had in town?”

  “I believe she spent time with Florence McHenry. Helen never told me that, but I did overhear it once. T
hey go to the country club together with the mayor.”

  “As in the Lake Forest Country Club?”

  “Yes, but please don’t tell anyone you heard it from me. I’d hate to lose my job.”

  “Not to worry, young lady,” Aunt Maxine said. “Do you happen to know where Florence and the mayor might be right now?”

  “I suspect at the club. Mayor Hopkins is quite the golfer.”

  “What about Charlene Catlin and Kaye Horton? Did Helen ever mention if she knew them?” Noah asked.

  Gwen’s eyes widened. “You mean the other victims of the Knitting Needle Killer?”

  “You’ve read the paper too, I see,” Noah said with a raised brow. “That’s exactly who I meant. You do know that we fully intend to ask around here before we leave, just to make sure you gave us all of the information. I’d hate to find out that you’ve led us astray.”

  “Go ahead, sir. I swear that Helen never mentioned Charlene or Kaye. I would have remembered since the newspaper only recently released their names.”

  “Very well. Thanks again, Gwen.”

  “One last question,” Petunia began. “Do you know about anyone who drives a 1970 black Camaro with racing stripes?”

  “No, I’m not even sure what a Camaro even looks like from the ‘70s, but I would remember a black car with racing stripes if I’d seen one.”

  Aunt Maxine reached into her pocket and pulled out a coin, pressing it into Gwen’s hand. “For luck, my girl.”

  She had no idea why Aunt Maxine gave that woman a coin, but it certainly wouldn’t dissuade the woman from thinking that they were witches.

  Petunia followed Noah out the door and watched him go to ask the women that worked at the counter the same questions we asked Gwen, coming up with the same answers, their voices carrying over to her.

  “Gwen looked frightened when Noah asked her about the other victims. Do you believe she told us the truth?” Petunia asked Aunt Maxine.

  “No reason to believe otherwise, unless someone tells us something that might dispute her story.”

  “I was talking about your gut feeling. You might not be a witch, but you certainly have some clairvoyant abilities.”