A Witchy Boxed Set

by D. S. Butler

  I gasped and turned around to see Joe McGrady standing in the doorway.

  His eyes slowly traveled down my figure, taking in my fluffy robe before lingering on the odd frog slippers on my feet.

  “Nice slippers,” he said with a smirk on his lips.

  I tightened my robe around me, glaring at him. “I thought you were my sister.”

  “And I would have thought you’d be a little more careful with a killer running around Abbott Cove.”

  He shut the door behind him and walked forward until he was standing in front of me.

  “Now, Harper, Chief Wickham tells me the Grant family go back a long way, and are an important family in these parts. You need to keep yourself safe. You need to lock your doors, and most of all, you shouldn’t invite men into your home scantily dressed, at least, not until we catch the killer.”

  The sparkle in his eye told me he was joking, but I wasn’t in the mood. I was still mad he’d tricked me earlier.

  My jaw dropped open. It wasn’t as if I had planned on being scantily clad. I didn’t have seduction in mind for goodness sake, and if I had, this would hardly be my outfit of choice.

  “I was about to take a bath! And it really isn’t any of your business what clothes I wear in my own home.”

  I was overreacting, but something about Joe McGrady just rubbed me up the wrong way. He was way too sure of himself.

  “Of course,” Joe said. “You’re perfectly entitled to wear whatever interesting footwear you choose. Now, if we can get down to business, you have something to tell me?”

  I was thrown for a moment. I didn’t know what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”

  “I was honest with you yesterday. I told you the murder weapon was cheese wire. And you know someone who uses a lot of cheese wire, don’t you, Harper?”

  My cheeks flushed red as he moved closer to me, so close, I could see the beginnings of stubble lining his jaw.

  I took a step back and folded my arms across my chest, keeping my mouth firmly shut.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Archie’s cheese wire?” Joe’s eyes were no longer sparkling mischievously. He was very serious.

  “Archie has the wire because he has a diner, and sometimes he uses it at cheese and wine evenings, but Archie isn’t the killer.”

  “And you know that for sure, do you?”

  I nodded. “Of course, I do. I’ve known him for years. There is no way he killed Elizabeth Naggington.”

  Elizabeth chose that moment to float between us, which was rather distracting.

  “Anyway, instead of focusing on Archie, you should look into Robert Jr. He was acting very suspiciously earlier and hiding something under his coat.”

  “What?” Elizabeth squealed and flapped her arms up and down in front of my face. “Don’t tell him that. You’ll get Robert Jr in trouble.”

  Joe gave me a patronizing look and leaned his weight against the wall. “I can’t just interrogate anyone, Harper. I have to have a reason.”

  “Well, you seem to be interrogating me without a good reason.”

  A moment passed where we stared angrily at each other, and the tension was only broken when we heard Jess open the front door.

  We both turned as my sister entered the room. When she saw us both and noticed I was wearing a robe, her eyes widened, and she put her hands over her mouth. “Oh, dear, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  Joe gave her a polite nod and then headed for the door. “I was just leaving. Harper, Jess, goodnight.”

  Jess waited until we’d closed the door behind him before exploding into laughter.

  “You look furious,” Jess said. “I did interrupt something, didn’t I?”

  I shook my head. “Only Joe McGrady telling me off.”

  Jess waggled her eyebrows at me. “That sounds like it could be fun.”

  “It wasn’t,” I said grumpily. “He’s so arrogant.”

  Jess cackled with laughter. “Harper and Joe sitting in a tree…” she started to sing.

  Even Elizabeth laughed at that. I scowled at them both. “In his dreams.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The following day was my day off from the diner, and although I thought I was probably crazy for even considering it, I decided to use my free time to try and help Elizabeth.

  “I think we should go and visit your friend, Victoria,” I said.

  I didn’t mention the fact that Victoria Andrews seemed to be Elizabeth Naggington’s only friend in Abbot Cove.

  “What a good idea. Poor Victoria. I bet she’s missing me terribly. She lives alone, you know. I use to pop round a few times a week, so I imagine she’ll be very lonely without my little visits.”

  Our cottage was close to Grandma Grant’s house on the edge of town, but Victoria Andrews lived in the newer residential district, near to where Elizabeth herself had lived.

  All of the roads on the development were named after flowers or plants. Victoria lived on Snowdrop Street.

  As we walked up the driveway, we could see Victoria inside. She was dressed all in black and standing in the middle of her living room.

  “Oh, at last. Someone is showing some respect.” Elizabeth smiled happily. “She’s wearing black because she is in mourning for me.”

  I didn’t bother to point it out, but Victoria always wore black. I’d never seen her wearing another color. She was on the curvier side, and I think she chose black because it was slimming.

  Elizabeth hung back for a moment, gazing in the window and watching Victoria as she dusted the mantelpiece over the fireplace.

  “Elizabeth,” I hissed. “I’m not spying on people anymore. I’m going to go in and speak to her directly.”

  Elizabeth shrugged and turned away from the window, following me to the front door happily.

  She was in a good mood this morning and had been since I’d told her we would be visiting her friend.

  Victoria Andrews wasn’t married and didn’t have any children. I distantly remembered Grandma Grant telling me she’d been married once, years ago, but had gotten a divorce and moved back to the Cove.

  I knocked on the door, and within seconds, Victoria opened it and blinked down at me.

  Her sleek, dark hair was carefully arranged in a bobbed style, which reached her jaw line. She didn’t hide her surprise at seeing me there.

  “Hello, Mrs. Andrews, I wondered if you could spare a few moments for a chat.”

  Victoria stared down at me, and then looked behind me up and down the road.

  When her gaze returned to my face, she said, “You’re that Grant girl, aren’t you?”

  I had a feeling this was all about to go south before I even had the chance to ask any questions.

  “That’s right,” I said smiling at her brightly.

  “What on earth would I want to chat to you about? I am rather busy.”

  I hadn’t been expecting this reception. As far as I knew, Grandma Grant had never had a run-in with Victoria Andrews.

  “Tell her that you saw her appearance in Abbott Cove’s theatrical society last year, and you were so impressed with her performance that you’re now considering joining,” Elizabeth said as she hovered beside me.

  “Um, I saw you in the play last year, and I thought you were ever so good. I wondered if you could give me some tips. I was thinking of joining.”

  The change in Victoria was magical. She gave me a smile that lit up her face, and she stepped back, gesturing grandly for me to enter her house.

  “Why didn’t you say so? Come in. We’ll have a chat over a nice cup of tea.”

  Victoria bustled me along into a spacious sitting room full of overstuffed furniture.

  “Take a seat. I won’t be a minute. I’ll just put the kettle on.” Victoria gave me another huge smile.

  After she’d left us alone in the sitting room, Elizabeth smiled at me smugly. “See, I do come in useful sometimes.”

  I had to give her that. Sometimes being the op
erative word.

  As Victoria prepared the tea in her kitchen, I wandered around the sitting room, looking at all of Victoria’s knickknacks and photographs.

  “Oh, look, here’s one of me,” Elizabeth said and tried to pick up the framed photograph from the mantelpiece. Unfortunately, her hand went right through it.

  “Darn it,” she said. “I’m never going to get used to that.”

  “Does it jog any memories?”

  “Oh, yes. We went to the fancy restaurant at The Lormont for my last birthday. We invited Victoria as she doesn’t get out much, poor thing.”

  The Lormont was a hotel in the town next to Abbott Cove. They’d hired a new French chef, and the prices had gone through the roof.

  “I meant any memories about who might have killed you.”

  “Oh,” Elizabeth said. “No, nothing like that.”

  I carried on looking. I picked up a carriage clock and examined it. I wasn’t really sure what sort of clue I was looking for.

  I scanned the mantelpiece. There was a selection of china animals, another smaller clock, and a wooden pipe. I’d just picked up the pipe to study it when I heard Victoria’s footsteps approaching.

  Quickly, I shoved it in the back pocket of my jeans and hastily took a seat on the sofa.

  I was just in time.

  Victoria walked in, carrying a tray. She really had pushed the boat out. She’d made the tea in a proper teapot and had pretty rose decorated china. There was a little bowl of sugar cubes and a pair of silver tongs as well as a plate of cookies.

  “I’ll be mother,” Victoria said as she set about pouring the tea.

  “It was such a shame about Elizabeth, wasn’t it?”

  Victoria looked up and replaced the teapot on the tray. “I thought you wanted to talk about the theatrical society?”

  “Oh, I do. I was just very shocked to hear about Elizabeth’s passing. I knew you were her friend, and I wanted to offer my condolences.”

  “Ah,” Victoria said. “That’s very kind of you. Elizabeth was a very good friend of mine.”

  I shot a glance at Elizabeth. She was perched on the arm of the sofa, smiling smugly.

  I was pleased that at least Elizabeth had had one friend in her life. I’d found that she had rubbed most people the wrong way.

  Victoria passed me a cup, and I thanked her and took a sip of my tea.

  “What a nice blend,” I said politely.

  Victoria beamed under my praise. “I get it shipped from England especially. I’ve always been partial to a cup of tea. I think it’s because my great-grandmother was English.”

  I took another sip of tea and wondered desperately how I could bring up the subject of the murder again without looking crass.

  “I don’t suppose you know who the police are considering, do you?” I inwardly winced. I’d never been known for my subtlety, so I pushed on. “I can’t for the life of me think of anyone who would want to kill Elizabeth.”

  Victoria’s forehead creased in a frown. “Oh, I can think of plenty of people who would, but you didn’t come here to talk about Elizabeth, did you? Now, let me see. What advice can I impart? One tip I can give you is channeling your muse.”

  “My muse?” I had a feeling this conversation was starting to get away from me. If Victoria could think of plenty of people who would have wanted to kill Elizabeth, I needed her to tell me who they were.

  But Victoria was lost in thought. “Yes, the best way to get in touch with your inner muse is to go out in the garden — absolutely naked, of course, look up at the sky — it’s best to do it on a night with a full moon — close your eyes, empty your mind and give yourself over to the muse.”

  I tried to control my expression, but it wasn’t easy. Even Elizabeth looked a little shocked.

  “Well, I suppose everyone has to have a hobby,” Elizabeth said.

  As Victoria continued to list various methods by which I could get in touch with my muse and improve my acting skills, I began to feel desperate.

  This was harder than I’d anticipated. I had assumed that Victoria would be willing to talk about her friend.

  “Those tips are very helpful, thank you,” I said. “Was Elizabeth part of the theatrical society? Is that how you got to know her?”

  “Elizabeth? Oh, no, Elizabeth wasn’t very interested in acting. We got to know each other through the Women’s Institute and the book club, of course.”

  Victoria set down her cup of tea and studied me carefully. “Tell me, do you have any acting experience?”

  “I did play Mary at a nativity play.”

  Way to go, Harper. Very impressive.

  “And how old were you when you did that?”

  “Er, five.”

  “Well, I suppose all experience counts,” Victoria said doubtfully. “Anything more recent?”

  I shook my head. “Unfortunately not, but I’m very eager to learn.”

  I could tell by the expression on Victoria’s face she was not impressed.

  So as a last-ditch effort before I got turfed out, I said, “Do you have any idea who could have been responsible for Elizabeth’s death?”

  Victoria’s face hardened. “If I was of a suspicious nature, I would think that you had come here not to talk about the theatrical society, at all, but to try and unearth some gossip about Elizabeth.”

  I shook my head. “No, that’s not the case, at all. I’m only asking because the police came round to question me last night, and it’s such a horrible experience for the whole town.”

  “And you thought you would make a good investigator? Better than the police?”

  I shook my head again. “Not exactly…” My voice trailed off as I realized how ridiculous I sounded.

  How could I hope to uncover the killer like this? I looked desperately at Elizabeth, hoping she would offer me some help, but she simply shrugged.

  Victoria took the half-finished cup of tea from my hand and set it down on the table. “I’m sorry, but I’m very busy. I’m going to have to ask you to leave now, Miss Grant.”

  Defeated, I slowly got to my feet.

  After we were halfway down the driveway, I turned to Elizabeth and hissed, “Well, you weren’t much help in there.”

  “What did you expect me to do? You dug yourself a hole. I don’t think investigating is one of your talents, Harper. Your people skills aren’t that good, either.”

  “Thanks very much,” I muttered.

  We walked in silence away from Snowdrop Street, turning left into Wisteria Avenue, and as we walked along, I suddenly became aware of some very loud music.

  It was very unusual for this area. I looked around, surprised to realize the thumping beats were coming from Elizabeth’s old house.

  I turned to Elizabeth, but she was already floating off towards her old house.

  I chased after her, and when I reached her, she was standing beside the sitting room window with her mouth hanging open.

  This close to the house, the noise was almost deafening.

  There, dressed in tight, pale blue jeans, a black T-shirt, and a cowboy hat, was Elizabeth’s husband, Robert, singing along to Bruce Springsteen at the top of his voice and dancing around the living room as he vacuumed.

  I understood from Elizabeth’s expression that this wasn’t a normal afternoon activity for Robert.

  We both stood there for a moment, watching. It was like an awful car crash that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.

  Eventually, Elizabeth turned to me and said, “He doesn’t look like he is missing me very much at all, does he?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Work at the diner the following morning passed without much fuss. Having Elizabeth around all the time was really setting my teeth on edge, but thankfully, she had taken to following Loretta around the diner, asking her various questions about ghosts and how they existed.

  I imagined Elizabeth had lots of questions. It couldn’t be easy for her, and it wouldn’t hurt Loretta to do a sp
ot of ghostsitting for me.

  Around two thirty, Robert Naggington and Robert Jr came into the diner for a late lunch.

  The place was still quite busy, and people walked up to their table to offer condolences. Both Robert Jr and his father wore tragic expressions.

  It niggled at me because I had seen Elizabeth’s husband dancing around the sitting room to Bruce Springsteen less than twenty-four hours ago. I found it hard to take his grief seriously.

  And there was something about Robert Jr that just didn’t sit right with me. He looked shifty. I was sure he was hiding something.

  Even Archie went over to talk to them. He removed his apron and went and sat in the booth with them for five minutes.

  When I went to the table to serve their iced tea, I couldn’t help overhearing Archie telling Robert Naggington and his son what a strong lady Elizabeth had been.

  It took an effort not to roll my eyes.

  I tried to put them out of my mind and get on with serving the other tables, but Elizabeth must have had some kind of ghostly sixth sense as she floated through into the main diner, leaving Loretta behind in the storeroom.

  “Oh, don’t they look sad,” Elizabeth said.

  “They do now that they’re in public,” I said sharply. “They didn’t look so sad when we saw them yesterday.”

  Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Grief affects people in different ways, Harper.”

  “It sure does.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I shook my head, noticing that a couple of people at nearby tables were looking at me quite strangely.

  I started humming, hoping that they would think I’d been singing to myself. Although, with my singing voice, I wasn’t quite sure whether that was worse.

  “Oh, excuse me, I would like a refill please.”

  I turned around and saw Robert Jr waving his empty glass at me.

  “I’ll be right over,” I said and went to get the pitcher of iced tea.

  When I walked back over to the table, Robert Jr and his father were deep in conversation with Mrs. Townsend.

  “You poor lamb,” Mrs. Townsend said to Robert Jr. “You must be missing your mother terribly.”