Witches' Charms: Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series (Vampires and Wine Book 3)

by Morgana Best

  I nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. But then again…” I let my words hang in the air.

  “You know, I like Joyce,” Aunt Agnes said. “I would like to think she wasn’t a rogue Shifter, a member of a rogue Shifter pack. Of course, we don’t even know if there is a rogue Shifter pack.”

  “Someone murdered those people down south,” I pointed out. “Sharks or dogs didn’t do that. And Joyce said she travels along the coast for buying trips.”

  “The first thing we need to do, Valkyrie, is to see whether the victims down south were all killed at weekends.”

  We had reached Aunt Maude’s car, and I waited for Agnes to unlock it. “Those bodies might’ve washed up on those beaches days after they were murdered,” I pointed out.

  Aunt Agnes, clutching her purchase, looked at me over the top of the car. “That’s true, but at least we can find out what days the victims went missing.”

  Chapter 15

  “I’m surprised that the police released the body so soon,” I whispered in Linda’s ear. We were sitting in the parlour of a local funeral home. The coffin was out the front, with a measly bunch of flowers on the top. It looked as though someone had bought the flowers in the bargain section at the local supermarket for five dollars or so.

  In fact, they were the only flowers in the room, which was completely unadorned, unless you counted the standard vases of flowers that I assumed the funeral home provided for everyone. The room was white, bright, and airy, not quite what I expected. There was no sombre air about it, although that perhaps was in part due to the lack of mourners for Joseph Maxwell.

  I shifted once more on the uncomfortable wooden pew. Linda leant over and said in low tones, “The room is full of cops.”

  As we were sitting in the back row, we had a good view of the entire room. I recognised the two detectives from the Task Force, and I assumed that the other five men in suits standing behind them were likewise involved with the Task Force. The two other detectives, Mason and Oakes, stood on the other side of the room. Lucas was standing in the far corner opposite us, although I was doing my best not to look at him, and the dreaded Scorpius Everyman was sitting in the back row on the other side of the room.

  “I bet he just can’t wait to arrest someone,” Linda hissed in my ear. “He’s probably in trouble with his superiors.”

  She was going to say more, but I interrupted her. “His superiors? I thought you said Cleaners didn’t answer to anyone.”

  Linda looked at a loss. “They don’t, not as far as I know, anyway. But they must have superiors, surely.” She shrugged. “I was thinking, he must be in trouble, because if these deaths are the work of a rogue Shifter pack, then Scorpius has fallen down in his job.”

  “What do you mean?” I whispered.

  “Well obviously, Cleaners have to clean up after deaths, don’t they? I mean, any death caused by a vampire or a Shifter has to be covered up. There should never be police involvement, and look at all the police involvement in this!”

  I nodded. “It’s obvious now you mention it. I hadn’t really thought about it before.”

  “Where are your aunts?” Linda asked me.

  “They’re at home, pretending to be sick with colds,” I said in a hushed voice. “They’re worried that Scorpius Everyman will search the place if they’re here.”

  Linda looked in his direction. “Yes, that wouldn’t surprise me.” She nudged me in the ribs. “I wonder if that’s the victim’s ex-wife?”

  I looked at the stick thin woman hurrying to the front of the chapel. She marched straight up to the coffin, and for a moment I was afraid she would open it. She bent down and spoke, but we were too far away to hear what she was saying. “It’s probably his ex-wife,” I said to Linda. “She didn’t bring any flowers. In fact, no one did.”

  “Perhaps in his will he asked for no flowers—you know, he asked that people donate money to a charity in lieu of flowers.”

  I snorted rudely. “He didn’t strike me as the charitable kind. And speaking of wills, here comes Harry Friar.”

  Harry Friar walked to the front of the room. He was wearing an ill-fitting suit, so ill-fitting it was almost comical. I expected he hadn’t brought a suit to town, so he must have run out and bought one at a local charity shop.

  Harry Friar walked up to Marianne Compton—at least, I assumed the woman was Joseph’s ex-wife. She threw her arms around his neck and held him close, a little too close.

  “Are you looking at that?” Linda hissed in my ear.

  I chuckled. “Who could miss it? It’s something of a spectacle.” After a far longer and tighter hug than was appropriate under the circumstances, the two broke apart. Marianne dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, in what I assumed was a fake display of grief.

  “It looks like those two are far more than ex-in-laws,” I said to Linda in a low tone.

  She agreed. “And hardly wise of them to do that in public in front of all these police. Now the cops have another motive.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Well, I hope Scorpius Everyman took a good hard look at that. Maybe it will stop him thinking that Shifters are involved.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Linda said, a little more loudly now that the dreadful funeral music had changed for something more upbeat—if funeral music could be called upbeat. “I’m actually wondering if Shifters are involved.”

  “You’re kidding!” I said, and then saw Scorpius looking at me. I shuddered involuntarily. “You said you would’ve felt a Shifter attack nearby.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe I was wrong.”

  “Why would you say that?” I added.

  “The injuries, of course. There is no way a serial killer could inflict those injuries. It would have to be a Shifter or a vampire making it look like a Shifter, or someone with more than the strength of someone who was, you know…”

  “Normal,” I supplied.

  Linda nodded. “Unless it was someone who murdered him and then took the body out to sea where sharks were feeding. Well, perhaps one shark,” Linda added.

  “How would anyone know where a shark was feeding?” I asked her.

  She bit her lip. “I wonder if Marianne and Harry are Shifters and they killed Joseph.”

  “They would hardly turn up to a funeral with two Cleaners in attendance,” I pointed out. “Although, upon reflection, it would be far too suspicious if they didn’t come.”

  “They wouldn’t know they were Cleaners,” Linda said. “We only know about Scorpius because Lucas told you, and you only know about Lucas because I told you, and I only knew because of my, err, old friendship with his uncle. Not to say that Lucas wouldn’t have told you eventually, given…”

  I tapped her on the arm. The music had changed to an old hymn, and a clearly flustered Joyce Batson hurried down the aisle. She sat next to Marianne and patted her on the shoulder.

  “That’s the local antique dealer,” I said to Linda. “She’s the one I told you about. Aunt Agnes and I went to her shop yesterday.”

  “Oh yes, the one who’s out of town every weekend and had the screaming match with the victim.”

  I nodded. “Yes, and Aunt Agnes and I googled it last night, and discovered that those victims down south all went missing on weekends. Surely the police would know that, too.”

  “Maybe they know who it is and they’re just gathering evidence before they make an arrest,” Linda said.

  “I hope that’s the case. You know, Harry was the one who told me that Joyce and his cousin had the big argument. Why would he do that if they were all in a rogue Shifter pack together?”

  Linda looked shocked. “You think those three are in a rogue Shifter pack?”

  I shrugged. “I wouldn’t have a clue. I told you about the dog hair on Joyce, though.”

  A man in a suit, I assumed the minister, took his place at the pulpit. “We are here today to celebrate the life of Joseph Maxwell,” he said in a tone that was anything but celebratory. He continued on
in a fire and brimstone manner, saying that everyone would go to hell if they didn’t repent. I was drifting off to sleep when his exclamation, “Repent or perish!” snapped me back to reality.

  “And so, our dear brother, Joseph Maxwell, is now assured of a blessed eternity. And can we say the same for all of you?” He concluded by pointing around the room.

  “What makes him think Joseph Maxwell is enjoying a blessed eternity?” I whispered to Linda.

  She didn’t answer, but Marianne Compton stood up to give the eulogy. Linda leant across to me. “This should be interesting.”

  Marianne dabbed at her eyes with a tissue before speaking. “I know Joseph and I were divorced, but we were thinking about giving our marriage a second try. And now this has happened.” She broke into a strange sound and covered her face with the tissue.

  “She won’t win any Oscars,” Linda said.

  I shook my head. “I’d say she’s doing it because of all the police in the room. She’d have to know she’s a major suspect, so she’s trying to deflect suspicion away from herself.”

  Marianne started speaking again, and this time did her best to inject a catch into her voice. “Joseph was a good man. We had been together for fifteen years. I was always sad that we didn’t have any children, because he would have made a wonderful father. He was…” Her voice trailed away.

  Harry hurried over to her and handed her a purse. She pulled a piece of paper from it and began to read. “Joseph Maxwell was a good man. He was a good husband, and he was kind to his dog. We were currently rethinking our divorce at the time of his death. Joseph Maxwell was the love of my life. I know I’m supposed to tell funny anecdotes of his life at a time like this, but suddenly I find that I’m too upset to keep speaking.”

  It would have been believable, had it not been for the fact that she read that from the piece of paper. At this point, she stuffed her notes back into her purse, and then walked over to Joseph’s coffin. She then threw herself on it in an overtly melodramatic fashion. At the same time, loud sounds emanated from her, while her whole body shook. I couldn’t be sure if she was sobbing or laughing, but I was sure that she wanted everyone to think she was sobbing.

  The minister stood by awkwardly, looking around the room for help. None came. After an interval, Joyce Batson walked to the coffin and put her arm around Marianne’s shoulders. She guided her back to her chair. With a look of relief plastered all over his face, the minister took the stand once more. “I invite anyone else here to speak out on behalf of Joseph Maxwell.” He flung his arms wide, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the only other relative or friend present was Harry Friar. To the minister’s obvious relief, Harry stood up.

  He, too, read from a sheet of paper. “I knew my cousin, Joseph Maxwell, all my life. We didn’t always get on. He was a mean child, and a bully. However, he grew up into a nice man.” Those last few words were forced, although, to be honest, who would really stand up at a funeral service and tell it like it was? “I promised Joseph that if anything ever happened to him, I would take care of his ex-wife, Marianne.”

  “Those two will be married before the year is out, you mark my words,” I whispered to Linda. “He’s saying that now to pave the way for when their relationship becomes public later.”

  Harry was still speaking. “Joseph wasn’t popular around town, but that wasn’t his fault, because he worked for a well-known phone and internet company. And he was good at his job. I can’t find my second sheet of paper.”

  For a moment, I thought that was part of his speech, until I saw Joyce and Marianne looking under the seat. Harry remained on the platform for a little longer, before he nodded sheepishly and returned to his pew.

  The minister looked relieved that the service was over. I supposed he was used to more attendees. “In the room to my left, we have served tea and coffee. I invite you all to stay and partake of communion with one another.” He gestured to his left.

  “We have to stay,” Linda said. “Just try to keep your eyes off Lucas, if at all possible.” She chuckled.

  I frowned at her. “What’s the point of staying? We won’t find anything out. Everyone will be on their best behaviour.”

  “You never know.”

  I shrugged, and followed Linda into the room. It, too, was a bright white room. It was unpleasantly bright, and the fluorescent lights didn’t help the glare. The Task Force members were huddled in one corner of the room, speaking to the other police officers. Joyce, Marianne, and Harry walked to the table with the tea and coffee and were soon busy with cups and spoons. I walked over to them. “Ms Compton, I’m Pepper Jasper, from Mugwort Manor. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Her hand flew to her throat. “You found him!” It came out as an accusation.

  I took a step backwards, surprised by the vehemence of her outburst.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said hastily. “It’s all been such a shock.”

  I nodded. “I can imagine.”

  “Your aunts aren’t here?”

  “They’re coming down with colds,” I lied. Marianne nodded. “They’re dosing up on hot lemon and honey drinks, so they’ll probably be all right by this afternoon,” I added for Harry’s benefit. No doubt he would see them around, hale and hearty, within a few hours.

  I made myself a cup of tea, and stood in the far corner diagonally opposite the Task Force, and chatted to Linda. We were keeping an eye on Harry, Joyce, and Marianne. “Linda, you’re the expert on Shifters. Do you see anything that would make you think that Harry, Joyce, or Marianne could be Shifters?”

  Linda shook her head. “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. I could walk past a dozen Shifters and not know.”

  I was puzzled. “But after I found the body, you were pretty sure that it wasn’t a Shifter attack.”

  “That’s entirely different,” she said. “I can sense what Shifters have done, but when someone isn’t in Shifter form, there’s no way I’d ever pick up on it.”

  I sighed, disappointed. We were no closer to solving this case, and so we were still in grave danger from Scorpius Everyman. Every now and then, I caught him fixing me with his cold, empty eyes. I’m sure he thought that Linda was part of a rogue Shifter pack, and that I was aiding and abetting her.

  Chapter 16

  I edged closer to Joyce, Marianne, and Harry, to see if I could overhear any juicy piece of information. I was in luck.

  “I suspect someone broke into Joseph’s house last night,” Marianne said.

  Joyce gasped. “Did you call the police?”

  Marianne shook her head. “I couldn’t be sure, but I thought things had been moved around a bit.”

  “What were you doing at Joseph’s house?” Joyce asked her.

  “As you know, the property settlement gave me half the house and the contents. Now that Harry is Joseph’s only heir, he’ll get the other half of the house. Harry and I were deciding whether to sell it or not.”

  “Well, what else could you do with it?” Joyce asked her.

  I busied myself making another cup of tea. That was interesting—clearly Joyce didn’t know that Marianne and Harry were having an affair, if I had guessed correctly.

  “We don’t know for certain that I’m the sole heir,” Harry said. “We won’t know that until after the reading of the will this afternoon.”

  Marianne snorted. “Joseph wouldn’t have left me a cent. That property settlement was torturous. Rest assured, you’ll get everything, Harry.”

  Harry shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

  “I hate to ask at a time like this, but are you still going to let me give you a quote on the antique furniture that you were awarded in the settlement?” Joyce asked her.

  “Of course,” Marianne said without hesitation. “I hate that stuff. I only took it for its value.”

  “The same goes for my share,” Harry told her. “No offence, Joyce, but I’m not an antique sort of person. Call me a minimalist.” He looked at me
. I diverted my eyes and acted as if I were concentrating on stirring sugar into my tea.

  Joyce patted Marianne’s arm. “Whatever you do, Marianne, please don’t stay in Joseph’s house. We don’t know why he was murdered yet, and you might be in danger.”

  “He was murdered because he was a nasty…” Marianne began, before Joyce interrupted her.

  “Marianne! You shouldn’t use those words in a church.”

  “It’s not a church,” Marianne protested. “It’s a funeral parlour.” She looked at me, so I smiled and walked away, back to Linda.

  “I heard it all from here,” Linda said. “They weren’t trying to keep their voices down.”

  “They didn’t say anything incriminating,” I pointed out. “You know, Joseph Maxwell’s house was worth over a million. How could he afford that? I mean, how much would Ozfoneandnet pay its employees?”

  Linda laughed. “Not that much! Perhaps he inherited it.”

  I bit my lip. “Let’s look into that. If he had ill gotten gains, then that could be why he was murdered.”

  Linda was still laughing. “You watch too much TV.” When she saw I was serious, she added, “You’re right. It’s certainly worth following that lead.” She caught her breath and turned pale.

  I looked over my shoulder to see the figure of Scorpius Everyman looming over me. “Miss Jasper and Mrs Williams, you are aware that I’m a private detective?” Before we could answer, he continued, “I would like to question you both, separately, over the death of Joseph Maxwell.” It came out as a demand rather than a request.

  “Are you working for his ex-wife?” I asked him. I wished I hadn’t spoken. I was terrified, given that he had threatened me previously. At least it was a public place, and the police were nearby.

  His expression didn’t change, but I could swear the room temperature dropped by several degrees. “I’m not at liberty to discuss this. Why don’t we start with you first, Miss Jasper?” He nodded towards the chapel.

  I didn’t want to refuse and risk making him angry, so I nodded and walked into the room. His presence unnerved me. I had no words to explain it, but to say he felt like an ancient evil, a malevolent intelligence.