Grant was holding court next to the table with the architect’s model. Someone had covered it with a drop cloth. I spotted Lydia in a corner talking to Nick; the Hawaiian shirt was gone, replaced by a suit and tie, and even though I was at the other end of the room, I could clearly make out a dancing hula girl on his tie. He must have gone to the same garage sale as Jason. Seth was nowhere to be seen.
“Everyone, gather around, please.” Grant’s booming voice was easy to hear, even above the din.
I stopped serving and watched while the crowd moved in to surround Grant as he continued with his speech.
“As many of you know, this plan has been in the making for quite some time now. We've had a lot of obstacles to overcome, but we made it through.” He nodded at the mayor, who smiled back. “I was hoping my brother Seth would be here, but he was unable to make it tonight.” A muscle in his jaw twitched, and I looked around for Martin. I couldn’t see him in the throng, but I could see Lydia standing at the outer edge of the crowd, her mouth set in a hard line. Plans A and B must not have worked.
“I know you're all anxious to see what's under here.” Grant held a corner of the drop cloth. “Lydia, give me a hand.” He snapped his fingers.
Lydia made her way through the crowd to stand next to Grant. Her cheeks were red and she looked as if she wished she were anywhere else but there.
“For those of you who don't know her, this is my sister, Lydia.”
People applauded lightly and Lydia turned even redder.
Grant pointed to the drop cloth and Lydia took a corner. “On my count,” he said. “One, two, three.”
They pulled the drop cloth off, and the crowd of people moved in closer. There were a lot of oohs and aahs as everyone got a good look. Lydia looked at the model for a long moment, then picked up one of the drawings. She stared at it and then turned to Grant. I knew by the look of surprise on her face that she hadn’t known anything about the Artist’s Residence.
A phone rang, and Grant backed away from the table, his phone up to his ear and a frown on his face. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but it was a short conversation. He put his phone back in his pocket, excused himself to the group, and made his way to the back door of the gallery.
While everyone was busy looking at the model, I grabbed Raine, and we made a quick round of the room, gathering up discarded plates and napkins. We took everything into the kitchen and found Ember busy filling another batch of cucumber cups with the crab.
“Where’s Jason?” I asked.
Ember waved the spoon she was holding in the direction of the back door. “He took some of the empty containers out to the van. We’re running out of room here.” She went back to filling the pastry cups. “I hope you’re not planning on having us wash dishes tonight too.”
“Ugh,” Raine moaned. “I don’t want to do dishes.”
“You guys are killing me,” I said. “It won’t take that long to—” A car horn suddenly started blaring.
“What on earth is that?” Ember said.
And then we heard someone scream.
Chapter 9
We ran out of the kitchen into the gallery. The back door was open and people were pushing their way out into the parking lot.
Outside, everyone had gathered into a loose semi-circle. In the dim light I couldn’t see much, but I could hear someone shouting and a woman screaming. I pushed through the group to see what was happening.
Grant was standing behind Jason and had Jason’s arms pinned behind him. Jason was shouting at Grant to let him go. At his feet was the body of Seth Bateman.
Lydia was standing next to the body. She had stopped screaming, but kept saying, “No, no, no.” She dropped to the ground and covered her face with her hands. Nick broke through the crowd and put his arms around Lydia, trying to comfort her.
Behind me, I heard Ember’s voice. “What’s going on?”
I turned around. Ember stood there with Raine beside her. Their eyes widened as they took in the horrific scene.
We watched as Mayor Hobson checked Seth’s neck for a pulse. He looked up and shook his head slowly.
“Oh my God,” Raine gasped, and covered her face with her hands.
Grant pulled Jason’s arms tighter, making him cry out in pain.
“Whose car is that?” Mayor Hobson stood up and faced the crowd. “Someone turn off the alarm.” I hadn’t even noticed it was still blaring.
“It's mine,” Martin said as he ran up to the car. He quickly patted his pants and coat pockets. “I must have left the keys in the car.” He pulled the door open, fumbled around inside for a moment and then stepped back with the keys in his hand. “Here they are.”
“Press the damn button, Martin,” the mayor ordered.
“Oh, yes, of course.”
The abrupt silence was deafening. The only sound was Jason grunting as he tried to get loose from Grant. And then in the distance I could hear a siren. Someone had called the police.
Ember heard the siren as well. “Matt's coming,” she said.
“It's my fault,” Raine sobbed. “I did this.”
“Don’t say that,” I said. “It’s not your fault.”
“I never should have done it,” Raine stuttered between gulps of air. “I knew it was a bad idea.”
“What is she talking about?” Ember looked at me. “The fight at the café?”
I took Raine's face in my hands and looked her in the eye. “This is not your fault. You’re not responsible for Jason's actions.”
“But I am. This happened because of me.”
I looked over at Jason struggling against Grant’s grip. He turned his head and saw me. The look on his face was that of a scared boy, not a man who had just murdered someone. I was about to walk up to him and say something—what, I didn’t know—but just as I took a step toward him, flashing red and blue lights lit up the parking lot. It was Matt.
He jumped out of his patrol car, and quickly took in the scene. One hand was on the butt of his gun and with the other, he pulled a flashlight from his belt as he approached Grant and Jason. He determined there was no immediate threat, then knelt down beside Seth’s body and checked for a pulse.
“He did it,” Grant said, as he watched Matt. “This son-of-a—”
Matt held up his hand to Grant. “Sir, that’s enough.”
“I’m Grant Bateman and this S.O.B. murdered my brother.”
“I didn't do anything,” Jason said. He had stopped trying to break free and his breath was coming in short, hard gasps. “I was trying to help.”
“Shut up, scumbag. You had that in your hand.” Grant kicked at something on the ground.
Matt shone his flashlight down. A piece of metal about twelve inches long and an inch wide glittered in the light. I could see streaks of blood on it. Matt aimed the flashlight at Jason’s hands: His right hand was covered in blood.
“I saw Seth on the ground, and that was sticking out of his chest,” Jason told Matt. “I pulled it out to put pressure on the wound. I was trying to help him, not kill him.”
“That’s Mrs. Campbell’s frame,” Martin said.
Matt shone the light in Martin’s face. “Frame?”
“Well, a piece of it. She brought in a family portrait to have it reframed in wood. I put the metal pieces next to the dumpster.” He pointed to the dumpster and Matt shone the flashlight at it. More pieces of metal were leaning against it. “I left them there until I had a chance to take them to the recycling depot.”
Matt slipped the flashlight through the loop on his belt and faced Grant. “You can let him go now, Mr. Bateman.”
Grant dropped Jason’s arms and stepped back.
The mayor walked over to Matt and whispered something in his ear. Matt nodded, then pulled out his handcuffs and put them on Jason. He read him his rights and led him over to the patrol car and put him in the backseat. He closed the door and went around to the back of the car and pulled a tarp out of the trunk. He unfolded it and placed
it over Seth's body.
He faced the crowd. “Folks, I'm going to need some information from each of you, so I'd appreciate it if you would all go back inside, and I'll be with you in just a moment.”
Everyone walked slowly into the gallery. Stacey helped Lydia off the ground and guided her toward the door.
Grant didn’t move.
“Sir? Can you move inside?” Matt said to Grant.
“I want the book thrown at him! I want his head on a platter!” Even in the dim light of the parking lot, I could see Grant’s face turning red as he shouted at Matt. I was a little surprised to see him so upset. Maybe he did care about his brother after all.
“Sir, I know this is a difficult time, but if you’ll just move inside, I’ll be right with you.” Matt pointed his flashlight at the door to the gallery.
“You better know what you’re doing.” Grant stuck his finger in Matt’s face. “I don’t need some small-town cop screwing this up. I need to protect my investors.” So much for the caring brother theory.
Matt ignored the insult, and took a step closer to Grant. They were both tall men, but Matt was younger and in a lot better shape than Grant. He wasn’t about to be intimidated by him. “Sir, inside please.”
Grant turned and marched to the door. The only sound was the crunch of the gravel beneath his feet. He slammed the door behind him.
“Oh, Matt,” Raine cried. She ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. “It's my fault.”
“Don’t say that, Raine. You’re not to blame.” Over her shoulder, Matt looked at Ember and me. “Mayor Hobson told me what happened at the café today.”
Ember and I looked at each other. “The Potter sisters,” we said at the same time.
“We’ll talk more about it later,” he said and guided Raine over to Ember. “You okay, Em?” he asked gently.
She wrapped an arm around Raine’s shoulder and looked up at him. “I’m fine. Just in a bit of shock.”
“Of course you are.” He rubbed her shoulder gently. “Why don’t you and Bree take Raine home and get her into bed. I'll come by in the morning. This is going to take a while.”
“I’ll be there in just a minute,” I told Ember as she led Raine over to my car.
Matt waited until they were out of earshot and looked at me. “What happened here?”
“I'm not sure. We were inside and then we heard a car alarm go off and then we heard Lydia scream. We ran outside and found Grant and Jason by Seth’s body.”
“Do you know why Jason was outside?”
“He was taking some stuff out to the van.”
“How bad was the fight they had in the café? Were either of them hurt?”
“No, I stopped them before anything could happen.”
“Stopped them? You?”
Matt knew all about our family. He’d practically lived at our house all through high school when he was dating Ember. When Gigi realized just how deeply in love he was with Ember—and that Ember felt the same about him—she decided he had to know about us. She told him what we were, and what we were capable of. Ember was furious and refused to speak to Gigi for weeks after. She was afraid Matt would run if he knew the truth. But Gigi had known in her heart that he could be trusted, and that it wouldn't change the way he felt about Ember. She was right, as usual.
“Well, with a little help,” I admitted and wiggled my fingers.
He looked at me in surprise, but didn’t comment on the fact that I had used magic. “The Potter sisters saw that?” I could hear the concern in his voice. He knew the backlash we would face if our secret got out to the wrong people, and he wouldn’t be immune to it either. But I knew he wasn’t thinking of himself.
“No. They only heard what was happening. I’m sure they didn’t see anything; they were too busy hiding.”
Just then, a car pulled into the alley.
“That's Dennis,” Matt said. “As soon as I heard we had a body, I called him in.”
Dennis MacDonald was the other full-time deputy on the island. He was shorter, heavier, and older than Matt, and happy to take orders from him. If Matt was the quarterback, then Dennis was the water boy.
“What've we got, Matt?” Dennis asked as he heaved himself out of the car. He saw me and nodded. “Hey, Bree.”
“Hi, Dennis.”
“Deceased is over there.” Matt tilted his head. “Seth Bateman. I need you to secure the scene, take photos, and bag the weapon. And call the coroner.” He pointed at Jason in the back of his patrol car. “When you’re done, take him back to the station, and get him into lock-up. I’ll meet you back there when I’m done.”
Dennis peered into the back of the patrol car. “Jason Cramer did this?” He looked up at me. “Isn’t he dating your sister?”
I shook my head. “They’re just friends.”
“Jeez, he’s a nice kid. Works at the bakery, right? I saw him just the other day when I went in to pick up some—”
“Dennis,” Matt said.
“Yeah?”
“Photos? Weapon?”
“Oh, right, right. I’m on it.” He went around to the back of his patrol car to get what he needed.
Matt turned back to me. “I'll need a full statement from you girls, but for now, I want you to go home and take care of Raine.”
We walked over to my car. Ember was already in the driver’s seat and Raine was in the back, her face buried in her hands. I got into the front while Matt walked over to the driver’s side. Ember started the engine and rolled down the window. Matt glanced at Raine in the backseat, then leaned in and said something to Ember that I couldn’t hear. She nodded and gave Matt a quick kiss on the cheek before we drove off.
Chapter 10
I had hoped to find the kitchen empty. After a night of tossing and turning and fighting off dreams that threatened to cross over into nightmares, I was exhausted. The only thing compelling me to go downstairs was the thought of a strong cup of coffee and silence. But no such luck. Ray was at the sink and Gigi was seated at the long farm table, her laptop open in front of her.
“They should have let him hit the guy,” Ray said as I walked into the kitchen.
“And what would that have accomplished?” Gigi asked him without looking up. There was a pad of paper next to her laptop, and she had a pen in her hand. She alternated between writing on the paper and pecking at the keyboard.
“Everything. They would have got it out of their systems, and that artist fella would probably still be alive,” Ray answered.
I sighed loudly. “Why do men always think fighting solves everything?” I pulled out a chair and sat down across from Gigi. Ember and I had explained everything to her last night after we got Raine into bed. She must have told Ray this morning.
“Words just lead to more words,” Ray said, bending over the sink and scrubbing something I couldn’t see. “A quick one-two to the head and you’re done.” He jabbed at the air with soap-covered hands, suds flying as he punched an invisible opponent
I had to smile. Ray had always reminded me of the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz—tall, skinny, and goofy.
“Ignore him,” Gigi said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
When she realized I wasn’t going to say anything else, she turned her attention back to her laptop. “I’m thinking we should seriously consider putting up a glamping site.”
“Huh?” The word sounded vaguely familiar.
She picked up her cup and walked over to the coffee maker. “Glamping. Glamorous camping. We supply everything from tent to towels. It’s very popular. The Corellis are doing it, and I keep getting emails asking if we have any glamping sites.”
Now I remembered. Alicia and Tony Corelli had been in the café one day, talking about how popular their glamping site was. They owned Corelli’s Camp, a few miles down the road from us. They were a nice couple—if they ran out of campsites during the summer, they would send campers to us, and vice versa.
“
So you’re going to put up a bunch of yurts?” That was another new word I had learned during that conversation with the Corellis.
“Not yurts,” she said as she poured the coffee. She turned to face me with the pot in her hand and tapped it with her finger. “Like some?”
“Yes, please.”
She took a cup out of the cabinet and filled it. “I think to begin with, we would put up one of those heavy-duty canvas tents with walls and windows, something just big enough for a bed and sitting area.” She placed the coffee cup in front of me, then sat down, typed something on her laptop, and spun it around so I could see. “Something like this.”
On the screen was a photo that showed a large tent with the flaps folded back; inside was a full-sized bed draped in a fluffy white duvet and topped with even fluffier pillows. Off to one side there were two chairs and a table, and on the other side there was a small dresser topped with a mirror.
I shook my head. Whatever happened to good old down-on-the-dirt, soggy-sleeping-bag camping?
Ray saw me shake my head. “Get with the times, Bree,” he said over the sound of the running water. “People want the camping experience, they just don’t want the discomfort. Nothing wrong with that. And of course, we can charge a lot more than we do for a regular spot.”
“I suppose you’ll be serving them breakfast in bed, too?” I joked as I stirred a teaspoon of sugar into my coffee.
“Not at first,” Gigi said, “but it’s an option to think about. The Corellis are doing it.”
She was serious. The urge to bang my head on the table was strong, but I resisted.
“Who’s having breakfast in bed?” Ember walked into the kitchen. Even in pajamas, she managed to look stylish.
“The yurt people,” I answered.
“Not yurts, just a tent. For now,” Gigi said.
“I don’t think I want to know,” Ember said, and headed straight for the coffee maker. She filled her cup and sat down next to Gigi.
“Is Raine awake?” Gigi asked her.
Stuck in the Middle Witch You (A Middle Witch Mystery Book 1) Page 6
