“At least you’re not getting your hopes up too high,” I muttered as I made my way to the back room where I knew I had a blank legal pad stashed away. Grabbing a pen as well, I made my way back to the front of the store, where Archibald was patiently awaiting my return.
I sat down on the chair at the counter while Archibald began reciting the poem he had come up with, the first of a group of poems about his own death and mortality.
To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t been quite sure what to expect from Archibald. He was always so bitter about the other English Romantic poets being more famous than he was, and even accused Byron of having plagiarized one of his works.
A part of me had always been fairly certain that he was just a quack, a second-rate hack who had never been famous because he had never had any particular skill at writing and was now simply a pompous butt simply because he was two hundred years old.
And yet, I had to admit, his words were eloquent, and they flowed with an ease and natural rhythm that made them a joy to read. Not to mention, the subject matter–a query on existentialism and death–was deep, but Archibald gave it a real humanity in a way I had never read before.
In short, Archibald’s poem was good.
Not that I was ever going to admit that to him. His ego was already the size of Africa; I didn’t need it enveloping the rest of the world as well.
Unfortunately for Archibald, by eleven the shop was too busy to keep transcribing his works; I had to deal with customers instead. Going by the sounds of things, the tourists had found out that this had been the shop where a poor, unfortunate girl had been murdered, and they were being just as crass about it as the locals were a few days earlier.
“Can you tell me where exactly in the shop that poor girl passed away?” a woman asked me just before one. Normally I closed the doors and took my lunch break at noon, but there had been so many people in the shop, and some of them were actually buying books on top of being looky-loos, that I couldn’t bring myself to do it. As a result, my stomach was grumbling and I was definitely getting a case of the hangries.
Still, I knew that being hangry was no excuse for being short with customers. So I forced a smile on my face as I replied.
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m not releasing that sort of information. It was a tragedy, and I’m sure the woman’s family would appreciate a bit of discretion when it comes to the details.”
Hint, hint.
Unfortunately, the woman didn’t take the hint at all. “Oh, but it’s so exciting! What chair was she sitting in? Can I sit exactly where she died? I’ve never sat where a murder victim sat before.”
“If anyone deserves to become a murder victim it’s this woman,” Archibald muttered, hovering about two feet above the customers. Normally, as soon as customers made their way into the shop Archibald made himself scarce, but I supposed the hopes of getting to have more of his new poems transcribed was keeping him here.
And frankly, I wasn’t sure I disagreed with him.
“Ma’am, this is a bookstore, not a weird museum,” I told her. “I’m not giving you any information about the woman who died. You’re welcome to read or purchase a book, however. I have plenty of books in which people are killed, and you’re welcome to read details in those.”
The woman just huffed in reply and stormed off, while I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Honestly, some people.
Three hours later the rush had died down, I’d managed to close the shop for long enough to get a sandwich to go and eat it at the counter in between customers, and with my blood sugar levels back up into a more suitable range, I was starting to feel like myself again when Cat walked in a little bit after four.
“How’s the café going?” I asked, and Cat sighed dramatically as she flopped down onto one of the couches, the cushions letting out a little poof of air as she dropped onto them.
“Not great,” Cat admitted. “Another day of less-than-stellar sales. Plus, I think the tourists are getting a wind of what happened, it seemed as though fewer of them came in, and at one point I looked out and saw a group of them glaring at my shop, like it was cursed or something.”
“Which is totally ridiculous, if anywhere in town was going to be cursed, it would be the competition, with a curse put on them by you of course.”
“I know, right?” Cat replied with a laugh. I had absolutely been kidding; I knew Cat would never curse her competition. Besides, with cupcakes like those, was it any wonder she was always the busiest place in town? Well, had been until this week, anyway.
I told Cat about my adventure that morning with Denise, and she laughed.
“Well, that warms the cockles of my cold heart. I wish I had been there to see it.”
“While I was there, I also saw Vicky. She’s been walking Kyle’s dog to make sure it gets some exercise. She told me that he went to Polly and Vanessa’s house that night, but didn’t actually go in, because it was 2am.”
Cat cocked an eyebrow. “Well, that’s certainly an easy thing to hide. But then you run into the issue that Kyle wasn’t at the book club. He didn’t even drop Vanessa off, did he?”
I shook my head. “No, the first time I saw him was the day after, when he came into the shop.”
“So he couldn’t have done it, and we’re back to square one. But it seems strange, doesn’t it? I mean, here we finally have someone with opportunity.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “I had literally this exact same conversation in my head a few hours ago.”
My phone binged just then, and I picked it up to find a text from Chase, with an address for Iris. She lived in Sapphire Heights as well. I waved the phone at Cat.
“Want to go talk to Iris? We might be able to glean a little bit more information that way,” I said.
“Sure,” Cat nodded. “After all, we need to figure out something or we’ll never catch this killer.”
Chapter 13
Iris’ home was only about three blocks away from where Polly lived. Rather than a big house, however, it was a small complex of townhouses, which looked like they had been built in the eighties, but were definitely well-maintained. The wood exterior might have been chipping away somewhat, but at least it had a fresh coat of brown paint on it.
Iris’ townhouse was in the middle of the complex. Cat and I rang the bell, and a moment later she answered.
“Oh hi,” she said with a smile, polite confusion on her face. “What are you two doing here?”
“We were wondering if you would be willing to answer a few questions about the night Vanessa was killed?” I asked. I figured honesty was the best policy here.
“Oh. Um, I was just about to go out,” Iris said, looking behind us.
“It’ll only just take a minute,” Cat said. Iris paused. Her body language totally screamed ‘I don’t want to say yes’, but she eventually relented.
“Fine. As long as it’s just for a minute,” she said, letting out a small sigh as she stepped back to let us in. Her townhouse was small, but comfortable-looking. The open plan kitchen led out to the living room, and a closed door to the right I assumed led to her bedroom. It was a cute little place for a single woman.
“So what do you need to know?” Iris asked, grabbing her wallet and phone off a side table and putting them in her purse, which had been sitting next to the couch. I had a sneaking suspicion she hadn’t been about to leave until after we rang the bell.
“We heard that you had an encounter with Vanessa in the bike park a few weeks ago,” Cat started.
“Yeah, so?”
“So, you lost your job over it. I can understand how someone would be bitter about that,” I replied.
Iris’ eyes flashed with anger. She was definitely nothing like the polite young woman at the book club. “So what, now you think I killed her because she made sure I lost my job? It wasn’t enough that she took from me something that was important to me. Hell, it was my livelihood. Now, even in death, she’s tormenting me from the grave.”
“Woah, woah
, we’re not saying that at all,” I said, raising my hands up in front of me in mock surrender. “Not at all. We actually totally understand that you would be pissed at Vanessa. From what we heard, she completely made up the story about you having hit her.”
“She damn well did,” Iris replied, her fists clenched. “She came straight at me, out of control. I almost managed to get out of the way in time, but she hit my back wheel and went over the handlebars of her bike, then dared to act like I was the person at fault.”
“That’s awful,” I said, shaking my head. And I meant it. It was awful that had happened, but it still wasn’t an excuse to kill someone.
“It was awful. And the thing is, I’m not sure Vanessa even recognized me that night. As soon as I walked in and saw her, I was tempted to turn around and walk out, but she acted like she didn’t even know who I was. Even now, I don’t know if she knew.”
“You would have been wearing a helmet at the time of the incident, I guess?” I offered.
Iris nodded. “Yes, a full downhill helmet, which covers the face. And I did take it off to help Vanessa when she fell, but she quickly pulled away, and to be honest, I look quite a bit different with a face full of dirt and my hair tied back than when I’m out and about in town. But still, it pissed me off, you know? Here was a woman who had basically ruined my life. I loved that job. There was nothing more rewarding than getting those first turns on a powder day after blasting away an avalanche, or getting to fly down a dirt single-track course before anyone else is allowed on it for the day. She took that away from me, and then she didn’t even recognize me? I was pissed. Yeah. But I didn’t kill her. And now I just know that you and the cops are going to be on my back. She ruined my life enough; I don’t need to be leveled with a murder accusation, too. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going.”
Iris stood in the hallway, a firm expression on her face. Evidently, that was the end of the conversation. We weren’t going to get anything more out of her.
“Are you sad she’s dead?” I asked. After all, it was an important question.
“Not particularly. But I didn’t kill her,” Iris said. “Now, this conversation is over. I really do need to get going. Get out of my house.”
Cat and I started toward the front door. There was obviously nothing left to do; Iris didn’t want to talk to us anymore. She followed out behind us and closed the door, glaring at us as she locked it carefully.
“Why are you two looking into what’s happened, anyway?” she asked. “Isn’t that what we have a police force for?”
“You’re not the only one affected by this,” Cat replied. “My café gets half the business it used to now that everyone seems to think they’re going to be poisoned to death if they go there. So yeah, I have a vested interest in making sure the murderer is caught.”
“I’m sorry your business is suffering,” Iris said. “I’m not surprised, though. That woman was toxic. How anyone could stand being around her, I don’t know. I do hope you find whoever did it, though. I don’t like knowing I was sitting in a room with a murderer.”
And with that, Iris got into the early 90s Toyota parked in front of her apartment and drove off.
“We totally need to follow her, don’t we?” Cat asked, and I nodded. We quickly sped back to Cat’s car and took off down the road after Iris.
“Keep your distance a little, geez,” I said. “She’s going to know we’re following her.”
“Please, this is the only road back to the main village,” Cat replied. “It’s not like it’s completely unbelievable that we would be going that way.”
Sure enough, Iris drove back to Sapphire Village, and parked her car in the main lot that led toward the pedestrian walkway.
“Why isn’t she getting out of her car?” I asked, craning my neck to get a look inside of Iris’. She was just sitting there. She wasn’t on the phone, or anything.
“Something about this is weird,” Cat muttered, and just then, Iris started her car up again.
“She’s driving back off!” I exclaimed. “Where is she going? Why did she come here?”
“Come on, we have to get my broom from the back.”
“What?” I squealed. I was definitely not a fan of riding the broom. Of all the witchy things I’d learned to do so far, that was by far the thing I was the worst at. I had never really liked heights, so when you added on the fact that flying involved moving while super high and sitting on like a three-inch-wide piece of wood, well, that was a hard pass for me.
It also didn’t help that my first time on a broom I’d almost died.
“She’s trying to lose us,” Cat said. “Come on, get out of the car.”
I followed after Cat as she got out, just as Iris pulled past us. She didn’t even look at us as she went past, but I had a feeling Cat was right. She had come here and parked the car to see if we would leave, and now she was going where she really wanted to go.
“We can’t follow her in the car, she’ll notice us,” Cat said, glancing around. The parking lot was basically devoid of people, at least for a few rows over. She opened the trunk and pulled out a broom. “I always keep this here for emergencies.”
“Oh look, there’s only one of them, I guess you’ll have to ride it and then text me where to meet you,” I said, more than just a little bit relieved. Instead, Cat shot me a look.
“Yeah, right. Climb on behind me, then make us both invisible.”
I sighed as I resigned myself to my fate. Cat swung her leg over the broom easily and looked over her shoulder. “Come on, we don’t have all day, she’s going to get away.”
I clambered on behind Cat, not looking nearly as elegant, then quickly imagined the two of us–and the broom–being invisible. This simple magic came easy to me now, and a split second later we had disappeared. I clutched at Cat’s midsection, burrowing my face into her back so I didn’t have to look at she shot up into the air.
“I hate this so much,” I said as air rushed past me. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to look down.
“Just don’t puke on me,” Cat ordered as she expertly guided the broom up past the trees. “There! I see the car.”
“Cool, as long as you can track it by yourself,” I said, doing my best to ignore what was happening and trying to go to my happy place in my head. This would all be over soon.
“That’s weird,” Cat said a few minutes later. “She’s going back to Sapphire Heights.”
“Maybe she’s just going home, and the whole idea of going out was a ruse to get us away from her,” I offered.
“Maybe,” Cat frowned. “But she should have taken the previous left. Where is she going?”
I had absolutely no desire to open my eyes and have a look myself. Instead, I kept my eyes squeezed shut and waited until Cat began to lower the broom. My stomach dropped like I was on a roller coaster as we began the descent back toward the ground. However, the fact that we were actually getting back to terra firma was definitely a good thing.
Chapter 14
As soon as I felt the wonderful feeling of cold, hard, earth right underneath my feet once more, I felt like I could lean down and kissed the ground. I didn’t even notice that we were right in front of Polly’s house.
“Why are we here?” I asked as I looked up at the now familiar wooden chalet.
“I have absolutely no idea; this is where Iris came. That’s her car parked over there,” Cat said, not realizing that because she was invisible I had no idea where she was pointing. Still, I noticed the car parked about 30 feet away down the street.
“What could Iris possibly be doing here? And why would it be so important that she had to lose us before coming?” I asked, making my way toward the front door.
I could hear Cat coming after me, and she bumped into me as I looked through the glass pane of the front door.
“We can’t just go in,” Cat said. “After all, even that completely stoned roommate of theirs would probably notice if the front door just random
ly opened and closed.”
“I know, but we still have to figure out what Iris is doing in there. What if she’s moving evidence? What if she’s trying to hide the fact that she is really the murder?”
“Well, were just going to have to find another way to get in there.”
Cat and I made our way around the side of the house. It didn’t take long for us to find a closed window that led to some sort of basement. Looking in, the basement was obviously empty, with a washing machine, pool table, and a small TV along with a daybed in the room.
“Do you think this is good?” I asked Cat, hoping she was still next to me.
“Absolutely,” Cat replied. “Let’s go for it.”
A minute later, thanks to a little bit of magic, the window was open. As I peered in however, I realized for the first time that the drop to the ground was a lot bigger than I had expected it to be.
“Why don’t you go first?” I suggested to Cat, moving to the side so she could get past.
“You’re such a baby,” Cat told me, as I felt her rustle past me and toward the open window. A moment later, I heard a small sigh as she hit the ground, and her voice called out to me.
“Okay I’m in, it wasn’t hard at all. Just jump to the ground, and it’ll be fine.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mumbled as I made my way toward the open window. It was at least a four-foot drop down to the ground, and I was absolutely not comfortable with that. Still, we needed to know what Iris was up to.
I took a deep breath and slid backwards through the opening of the window. Stretching my body further and further back, I had planned on eventually holding the windowsill and dropping my body to the floor slowly, so that the eventual drop would only be about 1 foot. Unfortunately, I had severely underestimated just how weak I actually was, and as soon as my hips passed through the window, my entire lower body began to fall toward the floor. I was unable to grab at the windowsill and hold on like I had planned, and instead pitched backwards into the basement, landing hard on my butt.
Pride and Premeditation: A Cozy Mystery (Magical Bookshop Mystery Book 5) Page 7
