by Jinty James
“I don’t think anyone was,” Maddie replied. “We weren’t.”
“Yeah, it was horrible.” Suzanne grimaced. “But maybe Fred didn’t appreciate the fact that she didn’t like it. Maybe she was going to do something about it.”
“Like what? Stop him from selling it to cafes in Seattle?” Maddie eyed her friend skeptically. “How would she do that?”
“I don’t know,” Suzanne admitted. “But I don’t see how this could be an accident. Someone drowned Margot and right now we’re all suspects.”
CHAPTER 3
ONE HOUR LATER, MADDIE wriggled on the hard plastic chair that the officers had eventually provided in the hallway, trying to get comfortable.
“How much longer?” Suzanne asked, twisting around in her seat.
The two male judges had been interviewed, as well as the remaining finalists. Now, everyone sat down, talking amongst themselves, while the detective spoke to the uniformed police officers.
“Can I have everyone’s attention,” Detective Rawson called out. “The rest of today’s competition will be postponed.”
Some of the finalists groaned, looking disappointed. Brad looked annoyed and fiddled with one of the gold-rimmed buttons on his shirt.
“I’ve just gotten word that the rest of the hotel’s conference rooms are fully booked for the weekend. And I’ve been told that three judges are needed for round two.” He looked over at the two male judges in confirmation.
The finalists muttered to each other. Maddie looked expectantly at Suzanne. Did this mean they could go home?
The portly male judge rose and addressed the finalists.
“I’ve just spoken to hotel management and we will be able to hold round two next weekend. I realize some of you may need to adjust your schedules in order to compete next Saturday, and I apologize but—” he swallowed hard “—I’m sure none of us expected this to happen, especially Margot Wheeler.”
There were murmurs of agreement from the small crowd.
Maddie noticed Ellie looked dismayed, while Connor exhaled heavily, as they sat together.
Diana Swift looked regretful – but Maddie wasn’t sure if it was because of the postponement of the competition, or the fact that a woman had died today.
Detective Rawson took over. “I’m going to have to request that anyone who is from out of town stay here tonight while the scene is processed. I’ll need full statements from everyone. The hotel has been able to provide accommodation for everyone who needs to stay here. And,” he added, seeming to assess each person individually with a sharp glance, “no one is to leave this hotel until I say so, even if you do live in Seattle. Is that clear?”
There was a murmur of reluctant assent.
“Does he really think someone here killed Margot?” Suzanne murmured to Maddie.
“I think so,” she replied softly, not wanting to catch the detective’s attention.
Maddie and Suzanne were escorted to a room on the fifth floor of the hotel. Maddie had filled in an entry form in order to compete and had been required to disclose her address. She wondered if any of the other competitors were out of town and if so, if she and Suzanne would run into them later.
“Not bad,” Suzanne approved as they walked into the twin room. Two queen size beds with pastel blue bedspreads, matching blue carpet, and cream drapes created a soothing décor. A TV sat opposite the beds, and a mahogany table and four matching chairs, as well as an armoire, completed the furnishings.
“If you give me your cell phone numbers, we’ll call when you’re required to give full statements,” the uniformed police officer told them.
Once Maddie and Suzanne had done so, the officer departed, reminding them not to leave the hotel grounds until given permission.
“Let’s check out the bathroom,” Suzanne said, heading toward the door near the armoire.
Maddie followed, a smile touching her lips as she took in the big bathtub, shower cubicle complete with jet spray, double vanity, and gleaming white toilet.
“Wow.” After the events of today, she looked forward to soaking in that tub tonight. There was even a bottle of hotel branded bubble bath sitting next to the silver bath taps.
“I know,” Suzanne agreed. “If we ever want to stay the night again in Seattle, we must remember this place.”
“If only Margot hadn’t had to die,” Maddie said regretfully.
“Yeah.” Suzanne looked uncomfortable.
“I’m just glad Trixie is staying with Mom today. Oh! I better call her and let her know we won’t be coming home tonight.”
Maddie used her cell phone to call her mother. She and Trixie hadn’t been apart for a night before – would Trixie be okay?
Her mother reassured her that Trixie was being “very good” and it was no trouble to keep her overnight. Luckily, Maddie had taken the Persian’s water bowl and plenty of her favorite food, as well as her litter tray to her mother’s house that morning. She just hoped the feline would understand why Maddie wasn’t coming home tonight.
“Everything okay?” Suzanne asked when Maddie ended the call.
“Yes. But I didn’t know how Mom would react if I asked to speak to Trixie on the phone.”
“That would have been fun.” Suzanne giggled.
“Uh-huh.” Maddie smiled. She was sure if she’d spoken to Trixie on the phone, the cat would have understood – after all, Maddie was pretty sure now that Trixie was her familiar. But since Maddie’s parents didn’t know anything about the ancient magic book, Wytchcraft for the Chosen, or the fact that Maddie had three spells under her belt, she thought her mom might have wondered exactly why Maddie wanted to speak to her cat on the phone.
“Maybe you could communicate with Trixie telepathically.” Suzanne snapped her fingers. “Didn’t you say that’s what she did with you last month?”
“Yes.”
“And then maybe you better cast a Coffee Vision spell, to give us a clue about what’s going to happen in the next twenty-four hours.”
“One thing at a time,” Maddie protested. She sank onto one of the beds, the firm yet comfy mattress making her want to lie down and let the events of today wash over her. But she couldn’t – not yet, anyway.
Exhaling, she closed her eyes and pictured Trixie. Her white, fluffy fur, her silver plumy tail, and her unusual turquoise eyes. She’d never attempted to do this before, but Suzanne was right – there was no harm in seeing if she could talk to her cat telepathically.
Maddie imagined cuddling Trixie, stroking her fur, then pictured her sitting on the sofa at home, guarding Wytchcraft for the Chosen, something she seemed to enjoy doing.
Suddenly, an image flashed before her eyes of Trixie at her mother’s house, sitting in an armchair and dozing.
Trixie, she called mentally. The Persian blinked her eyes open and slowly sat up.
It was working! Surely it was working, or else Maddie was imagining the whole thing.
Suzanne and I have to stay in Seattle overnight, but I’ll be home as soon as possible tomorrow. Mom will look after you until then.
“Mrrow,” Trixie replied, then she yawned, her pink tongue darting out. She gave a long blink, as if letting Maddie know everything was okay, then settled back down in the chair, preparing to doze off again.
Maddie smiled at the image, then slowly opened her eyes, giving herself a few seconds to adjust to fully being back in the hotel room.
“Well?” Suzanne asked eagerly. “Did it work? What did Trixie say?”
Maddie laughed. “She didn’t say anything except “Mrrow.” But she seems okay. And she didn’t seem fazed at all that we were communicating like that.” She hesitated. “Unless I imagined the whole thing.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” Suzanne said stoutly. “Why shouldn’t you and Trixie be able to talk to each other that way? You’re both witchy.” She sighed. “I wish I was.”
“Maybe one day there’ll be a spell in the book that can give you magical powers – if that’s
what you want,” Maddie replied.
Since she’d turned twenty-seven – or seven-and-twenty as Wytchcraft for the Chosen stated, she had come across spells she didn’t remember seeing in the ancient tome before. And since she’d had the book for twenty years, it was something that surprised her.
Last month, she’d wondered if receiving her full powers meant having the ability to cast one unique spell per month – at that rate, it would take her eight years – plenty of time to discover lots of new spells.
“That would be so awesome!” Suzanne grinned.
Just then, Maddie’s cell phone rang. Brring brring. She answered, surprised to hear the detective’s authoritative voice.
“Who was it?” Suzanne asked when Maddie ended the call.
“Detective Rawson. He wants to see both of us now.”
“Down at the ballroom?” Suzanne asked.
Maddie shook her head. “They’ve found a small room they can use instead. It’s near the coffee shop.”
“Maybe we can get something to eat afterward.” Suzanne checked her watch. “I can’t believe it’s five p.m. already!”
“Me neither,” Maddie agreed as they trooped out of the hotel room.
They took the elevator to the lobby and made their way to the coffee shop. Opposite was a small room with a uniformed police officer standing outside.
“That must be it.” Suzanne nudged her.
Detective Rawson took Maddie’s statement first, then she waited outside while he took Suzanne’s, conscious the whole time of the police officer’s assessing gaze. Did he really think she’d murdered Margot? Did the detective? Surely they had stronger suspects to consider than the two of them.
Besides, her full statement was practically the same as the brief statement she’d given the detective earlier. She hadn’t thought of anything extra.
“Let’s get something to eat.” Suzanne emerged from the small room. “I can’t believe Detective Rawson is related to Detective Edgewater. They are so different!”
“I know,” Maddie agreed.
Detective Edgewater was in his sixties, and old-fashioned, although he’d become a fan of her coffee and Suzanne’s health balls. Detective Rawson, on the other hand, was all business, and seemed to suspect every competitor of killing Margot. But perhaps he had to be like that in the big city. She couldn’t imagine him stopping by their coffee truck to say hello and savoring a vanilla cappuccino.
They found a table in the café and scanned the menu. Maddie’s stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and that had only been one slice of toast – she’d been too nervous about the competition to eat anything heartier.
Suzanne ordered a BLT, and Maddie chose lasagna.
Once the waitress took their order, Suzanne leaned across the table, as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear.
“Did the detective tell you Margot was definitely drowned?”
“Yes.” Maddie kept her voice low. “He said that so far the preliminary results were that drowning was the cause of death.”
“And that it seems unlikely that it was self-inflicted,” Suzanne added. “So nobody hit her on the head first – they just drowned her in the mocha vat.” She looked thoughtful.
“Yes,” Maddie agreed. “Which might mean the murder wasn’t planned.” She paused.
“But what was she doing in the ballroom alone before round two started?” Suzanne asked.
“Checking the stations were all set up correctly for the next round?”
“Maybe. Or maybe ...” Suzanne leaned over the table even further toward Maddie “... she was meeting someone there. Like a friend – someone she was close to – or thought she was. They got into a fight and the other person pushed her into the mocha vat and left her there to drown.”
Cold fingers of dread crawled down Maddie’s spine.
“Promise me we won’t ever get to that stage,” she said.
“Of course not,” Suzanne said vehemently. “We’re BFFs. I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine – and that’s the way it’s been ever since we met.”
“True.” The dread eased as she remembered the first day they’d met in middle school. They’d continued to be best friends through the years and now they had their own coffee truck. And Suzanne seemed ecstatic that Maddie had started dating her brother Luke.
The waitress arrived with their order, and after thanking her, they dug in. Maddie didn’t realize how hungry she was until she took her first bite, then couldn’t stop until she’d eaten every morsel of the delicious lasagna.
Suzanne seemed just as hungry, not speaking until after she’d popped the last of her BLT into her mouth, crispy bacon garnished with sliced tomato and lettuce with a morsel of white toast.
“There’s Connor – and Ellie.” Suzanne’s eyes widened as she swung her head to the left.
Maddie followed her gaze. Ellie and Connor had just come into the café, and sat at a table.
“Do you think all the people who made it to round two will be eating here tonight?” she asked her friend.
“That would mean Diana, Brad, and the other three finalists.” Suzanne counted on her fingers. “I didn’t get to meet them – did you?”
“No.” Maddie shook her head. “I think their espresso stations were behind mine.”
“We should find out more about them.”
“Why?” Maddie frowned. “I don’t think we’re really suspects, do you? We have an alibi for the approximate time of the murder – we were here, in this café.”
“We’ve given Fred Beldon an alibi as well,” Suzanne added. “He was here eating a huge plate of something at the same time we were here.”
“So we should let the detective do his job,” Maddie said.
“But what if he doesn’t catch the killer before next weekend, when everyone comes back to compete in round two? You could be in danger.” Suzanne looked worried.
“So could you,” Maddie pointed out.
They stared at each other.
“Which means we should help investigate,” Suzanne stated. She overrode Maddie’s objection. “At least until we know for sure we’re not suspects.”
“We can’t get in the detective’s way,” Maddie warned.
“Of course not.” Suzanne waved her hand in the air as if the thought had never occurred to her.
“And we’ll be going home tomorrow. Back to Trixie and Brewed from the Bean.”
“I know. But if we keep our eyes and ears open, we might stumble across a piece of crucial information that we can take to the detective,” Suzanne said.
“As long as that’s all we do,” Maddie said cautiously. All she wanted to do was go home back to Estherville and practice for round two. As well as spend time with Trixie – and Luke.
“Of course,” Suzanne assured her, her features lively.
Perhaps in another life Suzanne would have been a police detective?
Before Maddie could voice that thought, Brad appeared in the entrance, before finding a table.
“That’s Brad,” Suzanne murmured.
“Yes,” Maddie agreed. They watched him speak to a waitress and then peruse a menu.
“I guess this is a convenient place to eat,” Maddie remarked, pushing away her plate.
“Do you want dessert?” Suzanne asked, her gaze darting from Connor and Ellie to Brad.
“No, thanks, I’m full.”
“All we need now is Diana Swift,” Suzanne murmured.
“Maybe she’s been cleared and gone home, if she lives in the city,” Maddie suggested. “Oh!” A thought struck her.
She looked around, but nobody seemed interested in their conversation, including the other competitors. “Maybe it’s my imagination, but when the detective asked Diana if she knew the victim, I thought she hesitated before saying she didn’t.”
Suzanne’s eyebrows lifted. “You mean she might have met her before today?”
“That’s right.” Maddie nodded.
&nbs
p; “Hmm.” Suzanne looked thoughtful. “If Diana knew Margot, that might explain why Margot didn’t mark her as low as everyone else.”
“You’re right.” Was that why Diana had denied knowing the victim? Had Margot deliberately given elegant Diana higher scores in round one? Why?
“But Diana already pointed out how unlikely she’d be to kill a judge who gave her a better score than her competitors.” Suzanne wrinkled her nose.
“I remember.”
“So even if Diana knew Margot previously, why would she kill her?”
“What if it wasn’t Diana? What if it was someone from Margot’s personal life?” Maddie suggested. “Maybe they did it here because they knew there would be a lot of potential suspects to keep the police busy.”
“Good point.” Suzanne snapped her fingers.
“But how would the killer know the mocha vat would be there?” Maddie poked holes in her own theory. “There was no weapon used.”
“Fred wheeling in the mocha vat seemed to come as a total surprise to Margot.” Suzanne picked up the thread. “It doesn’t seem as if she knew that was going to happen today.”
“So she wouldn’t have told someone in her personal life, “Fred Beldon is bringing a huge vat full of his terrible mocha beverage to the competition,” which might have given the murderer the idea in the first place.”
“Exactly.” Suzanne looked glum. “No wonder the detective considers us all suspects.”
CHAPTER 4
MADDIE AND SUZANNE left the coffee shop and headed up to their room.
“I think you should do a Coffee Vision spell,” Suzanne said as they stepped inside their hotel room.
“Okay.” Maddie wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee now, even if she couldn’t make a proper espresso with the hotel coffee maker.
It didn’t seem to matter what kind of coffee she made, whether instant, drip, or using a fancy espresso machine, the spell had worked each time she cast it, since she was seven years old.
Maddie turned on the coffee maker, and waited for the water to heat, then for the coffee to drip into the pot.
When it was ready, she cleared her mind and looked into her cup.
