by Morgana Best
Thyme reached across the table and patted my hand. “Don’t worry, Amelia. Detective Greene and Detective Jones know you quite well by now. They won’t give you a hard time.”
I felt Alder’s shoulder tense beside me. “They’re no longer in the area. Two new detectives came to town last week.”
“You know anything about them?” Thyme asked him.
He shook his head. I knew I was about to find out.
Chapter 5
The call came before I’d even finished my coffee. It wasn’t one of the new detectives; it was Dawson, but that didn’t help. Dawson asked me to go straight to the police station to make a statement.
Alder had insisted on coming with me, and we were both waiting in the tiny waiting room. Thyme had gone back to the shop, and was going to fill in Ruprecht and Camino. She was also going to warn them about the mysterious woman, in case she showed up again.
The early morning sun had now disappeared behind clouds, and the day had taken on a grey cast. It was all becoming decidedly gloomy, matching my mood. I still couldn’t believe that a man who had seemed so alive, albeit so irritatingly alive, only that morning was now dead. I shook my head once more.
“Are you all right?” Alder asked me.
“No, to be honest,” I said. “When I go in for questioning, could you please call Marina and tell her what’s happened?”
“Sure. I intended to let her know, because I’m sure Alex will be a suspect, too. Amelia, try not to worry. Just stay calm and answer all the questions honestly. Once they realise you don’t have a motive, they won’t be interested in you any longer.”
I was about to respond, when a man in a brown suit walked down the corridor towards me. “Amelia Spelled?” he said.
I stood up. Alder gave my hand a small squeeze, and then I followed the man down the corridor and into a small interview room. He introduced himself as Detective Sam Barrett, and his colleague as Detective Chris Bowes. I summed them up quickly. Detective Barrett was short and portly, but with a slick air about him that reminded me of a disreputable used car salesperson. His aftershave was cloying and overpowering. On the other hand, Detective Bowes was tall, dark, and deeply tanned, and looked as though he had spent most of his life in the gym. Bowes was the younger of the two, and undeniably good-looking. I suppose I found him attractive as he reminded me of Alder, in a way.
I sat at the indicated seat and wrung my hands nervously. Both men shuffled their papers for a while and did not look up at me. I wondered if this was a tactic to put me ill at ease. It certainly worked. Finally, Detective Barrett spoke. After a brief preamble, he said, “Can you account for your movements of this morning?”
“I went to my shop, and then I went to the bank to apply for a loan.”
Bowes looked up for the first time. “Were you successful?”
“I assume so. The computer passed me for the loan, but I had to fill out a lot of forms and drop them back to the bank.” I wondered if they would tell me that Myles Woods had been murdered, and whether or not I should act surprised if they did. I decided to pre-empt that by saying, “I’ve already heard that the loans officer I spoke with has died.”
Both men nodded. I assumed that Dawson had told them he was a friend of mine and that he was in my company when he got the call.
Barrett fixed me with a steely glare. “And how did you find him?”
“I just went to the front desk and asked for him, and they told me to sit in the waiting area, and then he came out and introduced himself.”
The detectives exchanged glances. Barrett frowned, causing deep furrows to form in his brow. That man could sure use moisturiser. “No, I meant, how did he seem to you? Did he seem agitated, ill, and so on?”
“Oh.” My cheeks flushed hot. How silly of me to mistake the detective’s meaning. He must have thought I was a complete idiot. “He just seemed normal, I suppose. I don’t know what he’s normally like, though. He seemed abrupt, almost rude, but he didn’t seem sick or anything like that.”
“Was he eating or drinking anything?” Bowes asked me.
I tried hard to recall. “He wasn’t eating anything, but he did have a large cup of coffee.”
Barrett leant forward. “Do you recall whether he drank any of his coffee?”
“I don’t think he was sipping it on a regular basis. I do remember he took a large drink of it at one point.”
Both detectives scribbled away. “And how did he seem when you left?” Barrett asked me.
“Just the same as he had throughout the interview, although he was angry with the woman who came in.”
Both detectives sat bolt upright. “Can you describe her, please?” Barrett said.
“She was wearing gloves,” I told them. “Short white gloves. I thought that was a very strange thing to be wearing. She was also wearing a really strange hat. It was white, and it had this sort of pink mesh thing, something like mosquito netting behind it. It was decorative, of course. Apart from that, she was wearing a dress with a very tight belt. The whole dress was very tight, actually.”
“Height, eye colour?” Barrett said in a matter of fact voice.
“I’m sorry; I have no idea,” I told him, feeing like a useless witness. “She was quite slim, and she had dark hair. I suppose she was about my height, but I didn’t notice her eye colour. She was wearing bright red lipstick, if that helps.” By the looks on their faces, it was clear that it didn’t help.
“What did they say to each other?” Bowes asked me.
I shrugged. “She was smoking, and he told her to put it out, and she took offence at that. You know, she was in my shop this morning and she was smoking then, too. I told her she couldn’t smoke in there, but she kept smoking. She followed me out to my car and said she had questions for me. I drove off, and then I was shocked that she turned up in the bank office. She said she had seen Myles Woods—or she might have been referring to me—through the glass door and that she had questions.”
“Do you have any idea of the identity of the woman?” Barrett asked me.
“No, I’ve never seen her before.”
Barrett tapped his chin with his pen. “And you have no idea what she wanted with you?”
I shook my head. “I just assumed she was quite unhinged. She seemed to be dressed in old clothes. I mean, vintage clothes, but they looked new enough. I thought she might have been a tourist, but her English was very good.”
Barrett changed the subject. “When did you first meet Myles Woods?”
“Today.”
“How did you make the appointment with him?”
“I went to the bank the other day and said I wanted a loan, and the teller said that she could book me in with Myles Woods for today.”
Barrett cleared his throat. “Did you request an appointment with Mr Woods?”
I shook my head. “No, the first I heard of him was when the teller told me his name.”
“Do you know the teller’s name?”
“No, but she did write my name in a book, so if you get that book, someone at the bank will be able to identify her handwriting.” I hoped I was making sense and that my words didn’t sound like gibberish, because I was feeling quite faint. The stress was getting to me and I hadn’t had a chance to eat anything at the café. I had also skipped breakfast.
Barrett nodded. “Thank you, Ms Spelled. We’ll check that out.”
Bowes shifted in his seat. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”
I thought about it for a few moments. “No, not really. His face did go bright red several times, but I didn’t know if that was normal for him.”
Bowes smiled at me. “Did you apply for a joint loan with your husband?”
“Husband?” I echoed. “No, I’m not married.”
Barrett shot Bowes a look and stood up. “That will be all for now, Ms Spelled. We’ll need to speak with you again at a later date. Please wait here while your witness statement is typed up. After you sign it, you’re free to leave.”
Both detectives left me alone in the room. I looked around to see if there was a two-way mirror. I could imagine them peering in at me, wondering what I would do. However, there wasn’t one. I smiled to myself. That had gone better than I thought. I was a little concerned in case no one else in the bank had seen the strange woman, because that meant I was the last person to see Myles Woods alive. After some reflection, I figured I should be in luck. She wasn’t the kind of person who blended into the background.
I looked around the room once more. It was windowless, presumably so criminals couldn’t jump through a window and make a break for it. It was a rather depressing room, the walls in a hideous shade of beige pink, but with large black tiles on the floor. The table and chairs seem to be standard issue from the 1950s and were most unattractive. Still, I suppose no one expected a police interview room to be on the front page of Vogue Living.
When the detectives finally returned with my statement, I skimmed through it and then signed it. I walked out of the room as fast as I could and was relieved to see Alder still waiting for me. I ran up and threw my arms around his neck. He held me to him tightly, and then I pulled away. “Let’s get out of here.”
“How was it?” he asked anxiously.
“It was fine, really,” I said. “The whole thing is just too awful. I can’t believe I was speaking with someone just before they were murdered.”
Alder opened the car door for me. As we drove off, he said, “Did they say how he died?”
“They asked me if he ate or drank something, so I figured it was poison. He was drinking coffee.”
“Not many poisons kill as fast as that,” Alder said. “Thyme called me when you were being questioned and said she’s going to ask Dawson what the detectives really think. I’m going to try to find out who this mysterious woman is. She makes me uneasy.”
“You and me both,” I said.
Chapter 6
I burst into the shop, intent upon telling Ruprecht and Camino what had happened, but then I realised Thyme would have already filled them in and told them I was at the police station being questioned. Ruprecht was serving a lady, so I waited until she left. Alder had popped out to the Post Office.
“Oh gosh, I have a lot to tell you,” I said. “I think the police think I killed Myles Woods.”
Ruprecht shook his head. “Surely not, Amelia.”
“They gave me the third degree,” I said. “It can’t be good that I was the last person to see him alive. Well, the second last, really. There was that woman. Do you remember the woman who was in here earlier?”
“I noticed a woman who was in here when I arrived, and she had an aura of power about her,” Ruprecht said. “I would have liked to study her further, only she hurried out the door.”
I nodded. “That was her!” I said. “She followed me out to the car and said she had questions to ask me, and then she turned up in Myles Woods’ office. She said she had questions to ask, although that time I wasn’t sure if she was speaking to him or to me.”
“That’s strange,” Camino said. Given the fact that she was wearing a fluorescent orange Halloween pumpkin onesie, I thought she was the last person to call anyone strange. “I know you don’t like me wearing onesies to work,” Camino added, “but it will be Halloween soon.”
I shrugged. “That’s fine. It’s good to get into the mood.” I idly wondered how she could reach the coffee machine in such a rotund costume.
“I assume you told the police about the woman,” Ruprecht said.
I nodded. “I sure did.”
Just then the door opened, and to my dismay in came Detective Barrett and Detective Bowes. “We don’t have a search warrant,” Barrett began, “but would you allow us to search your premises?”
“Sure,” I said, worried that they would find all my witchcraft herbs and oils. Hopefully, they would just think they were used in cake decorating.
Barrett popped outside and returned with a team of people wearing blue clothing. I supposed they were the forensics team. Bowes flipped the sign to Closed and shot me an apologetic look. “I’d like everyone to stay in this room with Ms Spelled.” He shot me a winning smile. “Or may I call you Amelia?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
He smiled again. “We shouldn’t take too long.”
A uniformed officer stayed with us while the detectives and the forensics team went into the back room. Presently, two women came back into the shop and looked in all the cupboards.
After a good five minutes, Barrett walked over to me. “Where do you keep your pesticides and poisons?”
“I don’t use pesticides or poisons,” I told him. “I react to chemicals. I clean everything with vinegar and bicarbonate of soda.”
One of the forensics people was walking out with samples of white stuff in bags. I figured some samples were flour, and others were bicarbonate of soda.
“What do you do about cockroaches?” Barrett asked me.
The others laughed, so I hurried to explain. “Cockroaches can’t survive in this climate,” I told him. “They don’t last through a Bayberry Creek winter.”
Barrett looked as though he didn’t believe me, but said no more. He nodded and went into the back room again.
“So much for being quick about it,” Thyme said to me in an undertone. “They’ve been here fifteen minutes already. I hope they’re being careful out there.”
It was another five minutes before everyone filed outside, leaving only Barrett and Bowes. “Do you own any outbuildings?” Barrett asked me.
I shook my head. “No, my property ends at the back door in the back room.”
“Thank you, Ms Spelled. We’ll be in touch soon.” With that, he left the shop, but Bowes just stood there. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, Amelia,” he said. “The least I can do is to buy some cupcakes. Which ones would you recommend?”
“I suppose it depends on which ones you like,” I said, waving my hand across the display counters.
“I’m a chocolate man myself,” he said.
“In that case, I’d recommend the triple chocolate chip cupcakes. How many would you like?”
“I’ll take six.”
I wrapped them for him, ignoring Thyme’s amused look. “He was flirting with you,” she hissed as soon as he left.
I pulled a face. “No, he wasn’t.”
Alder swept into the shop. “Who was that man?”
“One of the detectives who questioned me.”
“I don’t like him.”
I wondered if Alder had somehow psychically picked up that the detective had been flirting with me—that is, if he actually had been flirting with me. I was thinking of what to say when a woman walked into the shop. She was tall and blonde and wearing quite skimpy clothing, considering the weather. I recognised her as the woman who had been in the bank while I was waiting for Myles Woods. She sailed over to the counter and then stopped in her tracks when she saw Alder.
She let out a squeal of delight. “Alder!” She kissed him on both cheeks.
I folded my arms over my chest. She looked altogether too friendly with Alder for my liking. It didn’t help that she had flawless skin and the best spray tan job I had ever seen. In fact, I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that she was a supermodel.
“Paulette.” Alder’s tone was clipped. “Paulette,” he said again, “I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Amelia Spelled, and my friends, Thyme, Ruprecht, and Camino. This is Paulette Pinkerton. We went to school together.”
Camino walked over, and Paulette did a double take when she saw the giant pumpkin onesie. Still, she recovered quickly and shook our hands.
“Are you here on a holiday?” I asked her, although I couldn’t imagine why anyone in their right mind would choose Bayberry Creek as a holiday destination.
For some reason, she appeared taken aback at my question. “No. I mean, it depends. I’m just catching up with old friends.”
I didn’t mistake the look that passed
between Paulette and Alder. Right then and there, I knew something was going on, but what? I just knew in my bones that Alder was keeping something from me.
“You didn’t tell me your girlfriend owned a cupcake shop,” she said in an accusing tone.
The comment put me on edge. How long exactly had this woman been in town? It was clear she had already spoken to Alder.
A heavy silence descended on the room, which Thyme presently broke by asking, “So, would you like just one cupcake? Or did you intend to buy more?”
Paulette at once recovered her poise. “I’ll just have that one there, please.” She pointed to a fat-free, sugar-free, gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free cupcake.
Typical, I thought. No wonder she keeps that good figure.
Thyme bagged the cupcake and took her money. Paulette said a quick goodbye and then rushed out of the shop.
“I just remembered I had to do something. I’ll catch you later,” Alder said over his shoulder as he swept out of the shop after her.
I was going to hurry out the door to see if he was speaking to her, when my phone rang. I did not recognise the number, but it was local.
“Detective Barrett again, Ms Spelled. Since you allowed us to search your premises, would you have any objection to us searching your house?”
“My house?” I said in alarm.
I drove to my house as fast as I could. Ruprecht’s words, “The house can look after itself,” were ringing in my ears, but they gave me no comfort. What if the house threw the detectives onto the lawn? Or what if the house showed them an illusion, such as the walls closing in on them? That would not do at all.
I had worked myself up into quite a state by the time I pulled up outside the house. The detectives were already waiting on the front porch for me. That was a good sign—the house hadn’t already thrown them down the stairs.
I hurried up the pathway to them. “Detectives,” I said in a loud voice so the house would hear me. “Detective Barrett and Detective Bowes.”
