Meows, Magic and Murder

by Madison Johns

  “Don’t think I won’t. I’ll check right now.”

  “Fine, go ahead. I’ll wait right here for you to return, but I can’t imagine why you’d think me capable of murder when all I’ve been doing is trying to help you out and clear your name.”

  Petunia didn’t know why either, but she went back to her house to check anyway. Once she was at her desk she checked Noah’s Facebook page, scrolling to the night Helen was murdered, and, sure enough, he had game activities posted right to his profile page. So unless Melvin learned how to play computer games, it was quite apparent that Noah was doing just what he said. She’d had no right to accuse him, but how else could she not say anything about his car when it matched the one Cora said she saw? She’d be getting in touch with Cora, and soon.

  * * *

  Noah was not happy at all. He liked Petunia and had vowed to do anything he could to clear her name, but now she believed him to be a killer, something that he just wasn’t capable of doing. What was this Cora up to and was she really the one connected to Helen’s murder? All good questions that needed answers.

  He watched Petunia leave her front door again, and he could tell from the way she pursed her lips that she’d found out he was telling the truth.

  “I suppose I owe you an apology.”

  “You do, but don’t force yourself. I’ll go on to the funeral home without you. Your presence is not needed. I’ll investigate this case just like I had planned and clear your name if possible.”

  “If possible?”

  “Yes, I’m not sure of your actions that night for sure. You do knit and possibly have the murder weapon at the ready the whole time.”

  “You either believe me innocent or not. It’s as simple as that, and knitting seems to be the running theme of the investigation, at least in the sheriff’s eyes. He’s even tracked my frequent purchases of knitting needles.”

  “Oh, and how many knitting needles are we talking here?”

  “Six sets. Three were used in each victim, which makes nine total used with three more for another victim, or so he says. I’ll admit that I might have purchased that many. It’s not like I count them.”

  “Why have you felt the need to buy so many?”

  “Because I-I keep losing them. I even have wondered if anyone has stolen them from my house, too.”

  “Is that even possible? How would anyone be able to gain entry to your home without you knowing it, or your neighbors seeing it?”

  “Well, we don’t have any neighbors on the opposite side of the street. It’s quite possible that someone may have entered my residence through an unlocked door, grabbed my knitting needles and slipped back out, disappearing through the park.”

  “You keep your doors unlocked?”

  “This is Lake Forest, not an inner city. Until the murders, crime just didn’t happen.”

  “Until now is right. It would have been much better if the crimes started with shoplifting and worked up from there, not a triple-murder spree.”

  “Spree?”

  “Exactly. Once something like this happens, it can change a small town forever. I’ve seen it before and it’s not the direction any of us would like to see Lake Forest go in.”

  “I know I shouldn’t have left my doors unlocked and I don’t do it anymore, I assure you.”

  Noah didn’t know what to think, and he was no expert, that’s for sure. But six sets of knitting needles seemed like quite a bit to him.

  * * *

  Petunia raised her head a notch now. She wasn’t sure what Noah was thinking, but she was almost certain it wasn’t good. How could she not question him when he drove the same car that Cora admitted she had seen over at Helen’s place the night before she died? How many other cars could there possibly be that matched that description in Lake Forest?

  “I just have one more question, Noah. Why didn’t you mention you had a car that looked the same as they one I already told you Cora had seen over at Helen’s the night before she died?”

  “Look, I suppose I should have mentioned it, but I thought you said the car was from the ‘70s and my car is the ‘80s model.”

  “I’m sorry. I-I just jump to conclusions sometimes, and seeing this car was a shock.”

  “I don’t blame you, but we’ll sort this out with Cora later, okay?” He glanced at his watch and said, “For now, we’d better get going and make our grand entrance for Helen’s showing. Are you sure you don’t just want me to go? I have a feeling that if you show up there it might not go so well.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Well, you are a suspect in her murder case, like I already said.”

  “And it’s your backyard her body was found in, so I can’t image either of us being that welcomed there.”

  Noah frowned for a moment and then he smiled. “We should go incognito. Do you have a hat, perhaps, that you could hide that red hair under?”

  “I don’t like what you’re implying here. What’s wrong with my hair?”

  “Nothing, except that everyone will know for sure it’s you the minute we walk into the place.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I have a fedora hat I could wear, but I’d be expected to take it off. I’m new in town, so I’d be the most likely person not to be recognized. People wouldn’t think a woman in a wide-brimmed hat would be that out of place, even at a funeral home.”

  “Fine, I’ll go get a hat, but I hardly think that it will prevent me being recognized, even with one on.”

  Petunia strutted back to her house, snatching up a large-brimmed hat that she’d be able to pull down, concealing herself. When she walked back to where Noah stood, he grinned. “That’s perfect. So how should we handle this? Should we just sit back and eavesdrop, or inspect the body for evidence?”

  Petunia laughed in a fake manner. “Very funny, Mr. Smarty Pants. Let’s go before the showing is over.”

  Noah held open his car door and Petunia gave him a look, but hopped in, taking her hat off so it didn’t hit the roof. He jerked the seatbelt hard a few times and it came loose so that Petunia could put it on. “See, I told you it’s only broken some of the time.”

  When Noah was in the driver’s seat he reminded Petunia, “Make sure when we get closer that you put the hat back on.”

  “I will, but since anyone could recognize you quite easily, won’t people figure out who I am?”

  “Let’s hope not, but I could always introduce you as my sister. That way, no one would suspect that anything is out of order.”

  Petunia fumed over that one. What was wrong with her going as herself? She didn’t fully understand it, but she hoped that she’d be able to at least see who Helen’s mother really was and if she resembled Aunt Petunia.

  Noah roared over to the Hillcrest Funeral Home that just happened to be next to Norm’s Meat Market.

  “There’s a meat market right next door,” Noah pointed out. “For some reason, there’s a joke ready to be told about that.”

  “Believe me, there is a running joke Norm has a deal with the funeral director.” Petunia smiled. “You know, for meat.”

  “I get it, even though it’s really quite disturbing.”

  “Well, you were the one that pointed it out, not me.”

  Noah parked and Petunia put her hat back on, tucking her red hair behind her ears, trying to hide it. They got out of the car, and a few men admired it, remarking on how sweet a ride it was.

  “Thanks,” Noah said as they passed.

  Petunia didn’t even look in the direction of the men, praying that they wouldn’t notice her. In a town as small as Lake Forest, everyone knew everyone.

  They went through the double doors and were greeted by the smell of fragrant flowers that no doubt came from the viewing room. Noah took Petunia’s arm and they walked over to the book where they filled out their names, or at least Noah did. Petunia scanned the pages, but didn’t see any name she didn’t know already.

  They sat down in the viewing roo
m, instead of going over to the body, and listened to the chatter nearby.

  “Isn’t it awful? And they say her murderer hasn’t even been arrested yet. That Petunia Patterson is a real witch, you know. She must have put a spell on the sheriff so he wouldn’t arrest her,” a woman said.

  “Now, Olivia, that’s not a proven fact,” another woman said.

  Petunia should have known Olivia would be here spreading her poison. If she really was a witch, she’d have turned her into a frog long ago, like after she took her Henry away.

  Giggling was heard across the room and Petunia knew that it belonged to nobody other than Hazel, one of Aunt Maxine’s friends. Petunia stood and made her way over there with Noah following her.

  “What are you doing, Petunia?” Noah asked. “Someone will recognize you.”

  Petunia stopped and faced him. “Look, my aunt and her friends are over there. If I don’t at least go over and tell them what we’re doing, they’ll blow my cover.”

  Wanda and Hazel raced over to Petunia. “What are you doing here, Petunia?”

  “We’re trying to see if we can hear anything, if you wouldn’t mind not speaking to me right now. Why don’t you go home and not blow my cover.”

  “Now, that’s not very nice,” Aunt Maxine scolded Petunia. “I imagine that we’re all here doing the same thing.”

  Petunia walked away, wishing to put some distance between her and her aunt’s friends. Since they were already standing up, there was no other course of action other than to approach the body of Helen Peterson.

  Noah held Petunia’s arm like she meant more to him that just a crazy cat lady who lived next door. Why that bothered Petunia so much she couldn’t say, but one thing was for sure—Noah had thus far helped her more than anyone ever had.

  When Petunia gazed down at Helen’s body, she felt bad for her, she really did. Even though she had taken one of her cats to the pound that one time, it was no reason to want to see harm come to the woman. Nobody, no matter how dreadful, deserved to be brutally murdered. Why, when Petunia thought about how much force had to have been done to drive three knitting needles deep into Helen’s chest, she shuddered. Petunia might be many things, but a murderess wasn’t one of them.

  It was always so strange to see anyone in a funeral home. Even though they had makeup carefully applied, they never really looked like their former self—or living self, as it would be. Petunia couldn’t quite help herself as she felt Helen’s hand. It was quite cold and someone nearby cleared their throat.

  Petunia pulled her hand back as if it had been burned, seeing an older woman approaching them.

  “Thanks for showing up. I’m Helen’s mother, Nancy Patterson.”

  “I’m sorry to meet you under such an occasion,” Petunia said.

  “How did you know my daughter?”

  “I’m her neighbor,” Noah said. “Unfortunately, Helen was found in my backyard.” He paused. “This my sister, Hannah.” Noah introduced Petunia.

  Nancy put a hand to her chest. “Oh, my. So you live by the witch, Petunia, then?”

  “Witch?” Noah asked. “I don’t know Petunia all that much, but I hardly see her as a witch.”

  “No? Well, my daughter certainly did. She’s told me how Petunia and that aunt of hers had some kind of ceremony over at Petunia’s house. By the light of the full moon.”

  “Your daughter must have a vivid imagination,” Petunia said. “Have you ever considered that they might just have had a bonfire?”

  “No, I suppose not, but Helen was quite adamant that Petunia did away with the man she was dating, a Jeremy Walters.”

  “You must mean the same man who dated many women at a time, don’t you?”

  “No, Helen told me Jeremy was quite taken with her.”

  “I’ve gathered that Jeremy has told many a woman in town the same story.”

  Nancy now stared at Petunia quite suspiciously. “Why would you defend the woman when everyone in town believes her and her family to be witches.”

  “Because I’m planning to run for sheriff soon,” Noah said. “And we don’t like to see anyone needlessly accused unless there’s evidence to support it. From my knowledge, there aren’t any witches in Lake Forest or anywhere else. It’s been centuries since there was a Salem witch hunt.”

  Nancy stiffened now. “I wasn’t trying to do that. It’s just that everyone I’ve talked to believe this Petunia is good for my daughter’s murder. Word has it she’s linked to the other victims, too,” she suggested.

  News sure flew fast in town. “What I do think strange,” Petunia began, “Is that Helen had the same last name as Petunia. Some people in town even believe they were related, or that’s what Helen told people.”

  “I-I don’t know why anyone would say that. It’s just not true. We don’t have any relative in Lake Forest. It’s just a strange coincidence.”

  “So your daughter didn’t claim to be the relative of one Maxine Patterson and even go so far as to visit Maxine’s own brother who lives in a nursing home in Bear Paw, claiming that she is potentially the daughter of Maxine’s daughter that had been give up for adoption?”

  “Oh, my. Helen was certainly up to her old tricks, but I was certain she had gotten over her fixation that she was related to Maxine Patterson. Our local newspaper did an article about Maxine and how she has made a fortune with her herbal remedies.”

  Petunia froze now. Oh, so Helen wasn’t really related to her after all or after her aunt’s money? That was a twist that she didn’t see coming. Now she’d have to figure out just who would want Helen dead and why.

  “So you think she was claiming to be Maxine’s granddaughter. Why, exactly?”

  “Look, I’ll admit that my daughter hasn’t always had the best judgment. She might have even planned to con the old lady out of money, but I hardly think that she deserved to die because of it.”

  “No,” Petunia admitted. “Although it’s quite illegal, if she actually got any money out of the old lady, as you say.”

  Nancy gazed down at her daughter body and said, “My daughter couldn’t help herself. She just wanted to have a better life is all. I guess none of that matters anymore, but she hardly deserves to have been murdered.”

  “I’ll agree with you there and I’m sorry for your loss, truly,” Petunia said, moving away from the casket.

  Once they were again seated, Noah said, “I thought you blew it for a moment. Luckily, Nancy is from out of town and doesn’t know who you are.”

  “True, and since I know that there isn’t any truth to what Helen was trying to claim, I think we hit a dead-end. But it never made much sense anyway. Even if she was my Aunt Maxine’s granddaughter, it would hardly be a cause for Helen’s death.”

  Petunia watched for the next twenty minutes, lowering her hat when Mayor Hopkins and Florence McHenry strode past. Since Petunia and Noah were seated near the front, the Mayor and Florence’s voices carried over to them.

  “It’s just dreadful that Helen had to die that way,” Mayor Hopkins said when Nancy came over and introduced herself.

  “Thanks. I just wished I had spoken to her recently, but after she moved to Lake Forest, we lost touch.”

  “I know it must be so hard for you, but what have the police said about finding the killer?”

  “Sheriff Pinkerton hasn’t said all that much, other than he has a suspect.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if the cat lady is responsible. She’s fought with Helen many times when her cats trespassed on Helen’s property.”

  “Yes, Petunia Patterson. She was dating Jeremy at the same time Helen was. First Jeremy disappears, and now poor Helen is murdered. She’s quite the knitter, you know. I’ve seen her on more than one occasion buying knitting needles,” Florence added.

  “I know all about that. I mean, Jeremy dating my daughter, but the sheriff never supplied me with the suspect’s name. It could be anyone, for all I know, even someone here at the showing.”

  Petunia
pulled her hat lower and Noah took her hand, weaving through the throng of people paying their respects. Luckily, nobody noticed that she was here, until she was back in the lobby and Olivia’s eyes widened as she sneered, “What are you doing here, Petunia Patterson?”

  “I-I’m not Petunia. You’re mistaken,” Petunia said, staring at the ground, not wanting to give Olivia any eye contact.

  All of Petunia’s attempts to leave without any fanfare was gone now as Olivia was loud enough for everyone to hear, despite Henry’s attempts to quiet his wife.

  “I know it’s you. I can see that red hair of yours under your hat. What I don’t know is why you’re not under arrest.”

  Petunia took her hat off now, pushing one of her hands through her hair. “I’m only here paying my respects like everyone else.”

  “Except you’re the number one suspect. Henry and I saw the sheriff bring you to the station.”

  “Yes, he did. He had a few questions to ask, not to arrest me. You really need to get your facts straight before you start flinging insults,” Petunia said with a curt nod. “You’re embarrassing Henry.”

  “Don’t worry about my husband. He left you for me, remember?”

  That’s not exactly how it went, but Petunia headed for the door, not wanting to stand there arguing with Olivia. It was so not the right time.

  “I was just leaving.”

  A crowd now formed and Noah took Petunia’s arm, pulling her toward the door. Once they were outside, the sheriff was pulling up. As the made way into the parking lot, the sheriff cleared his throat and said, “Petunia, I’d like a word with you.”

  Petunia could have gone without the sheriff putting it like that since that always meant trouble. It was the kind of words a mother uses when a child misbehaves like Petunia did, that time when she brought a snake into the house that she was convinced was Bobby, their neighbor. It was one of those times she played make-believe, where she was a most powerful witch. Okay, so she had a vivid imagination.

  “Go over there,” Noah said, nudging Petunia. “There no sense in making the sheriff think more badly about you than he already does.”