Dying to be Married: The India Kirby Witch Mystery (Book 2)

by Sarah Kelly

  “Why would I?”

  “Because you were sent by the people threatening the family,” India said. “And you were out of sight at the time of her death.”

  Harry looked straight at her. “That’s absolute bull.”

  “You know how to shoot a gun, of course, being a security man,” said India. “It could only have been one of four people who pulled the trigger – you, Cecelia, Malik or Tyler. Malik and Tyler deny it.”

  Harry laughed bitterly. “Of course they would. And I suppose Cecelia never told you she knows how to shoot.”

  “No.”

  “Figures. Well, she’s always at the range. Aleister ordered her and Katriane to learn how to shoot ever since those threats came in. Katriane didn’t like it, couldn’t keep her arm steady, but with Cecelia it was like a duck to water.”

  India saw the way a flash of light passed through his eyes when he said Katriane’s name. “Harry?”

  He stared up at the basketball game. One of the teams made a slam dunk and no emotion registered. India was sure he was staring right through the screen. “Yeah?” he said. “What?”

  India spoke quietly. “Did you… You were very fond of Katriane, weren’t you?”

  He looked down. “She was a very gentle woman.”

  “Yes,” India said. “Beautiful, too.”

  He shrugged.

  “Don’t you think?” India said.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  India was getting impatient. She made a bold move. “You loved her, didn’t you?”

  “Look,” Harry said, snapping with irritation. “Yes, I loved her. Yes, I’d made a move and was rejected by her. Yes, I was pissed off she was marrying Will Tremblay. That does not mean I killed her.”

  India’s mind raced. “Was it too much to see them exchanging their vows, telling each other they’d be together forever?” She knew it was risky, but wanted to see how angry he’d get.

  “Yes!” he said, jumping to his feet, his eyes burning with rage. “Yes, it was.” He cursed heavily. “But that doesn’t mean that I shot her, does it?”

  “Did you plant the gun in the boys’ car?”

  “No!”

  India nodded, and that seemed to calm him. He flopped back on the barstool, picked up his beer and resumed staring at the screen. “I can’t wait for this all to be over,” he said. “I’m quitting this damn job and never looking back.”

  There was so much mourning in his voice that India began to feel guilty. She wanted to apologize for such tough questioning, but when she opened her mouth, the words wouldn’t come.

  “All right,” India said. “All right. Well, thanks for talking to me.”

  He took a long swig of beer and stared up at the screen. “Yeah.”

  India jumped as Aleister made an explosive entrance. “Harry!” he hollered, his voice heavy with emotion as he stepped into the room. “You didn’t do your damn job properly, did you?”

  As the room was darkened, he couldn’t yet see her sitting there. She planned to keep quiet and listen to their conversation.

  “India is here, Aleister,” Harry said.

  “I don’t care!” Aleister shouted. He’d obviously worked himself up into a frenzy. “You were supposed to protect our family, and you failed. You failed! You failed!”

  Harry’s eyes remained dead. He stared through the screen, looking like he wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing does.”

  “It doesn’t matter?” Aleister’s voice was quiet now, but his words sliced through the room. There was so much fury and loss packed into his words. “What the hell did you just say, boy?”

  Harry remained silent.

  “I should kill you,” Aleister spat. “I should. No one would blame me. You were supposed to take care of my Katriane properly. And you failed so miserably. You’ve been a failure your whole life, haven’t you?”

  “Say whatever makes you happy.”

  “Happy?” Aleister was wired, striding around the open bar area behind India and Harry. “Happy? You think it’s ever possible for me to be happy again? To ever relax? To ever live a normal life?” Then he swore at Harry. “And it’s all your fault.”

  Suddenly Harry’s eyes lost their glaze and seemed to come back to the present. He spun around on his bar stool to face Aleister. “In your stupid little mind, how could you ever say this is my fault? I’m not the one who killed her, am I?”

  Aleister stared him down, stone faced.

  “Am I?!” Harry shouted.

  “Just die,” Aleister said, storming out.

  Harry stared back up at the TV, the glaze falling back over his eyes as he picked up his beer and swigged. “Gladly. Anything would be better than this.”

  India sat, stunned, not knowing what she could say.

  “You can go now,” Harry said. “I want to be alone.”

  “Sure,” India said. She reached out to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder, but stopped her hand just short. Perhaps he wouldn’t appreciate it. Then she left, her head swimming with it all.

  It was only then she realized she was meant to be at her post on the beach. Cursing herself, she picked up the hem of her sundress and ran through the complex, out into the parking lot, now empty except for Cecelia’s hired convertible, and down to the beach. The clouds had parted, and the mugginess had dissipated into a drier heat, which she appreciated. Humidity made sweat spring ever more quickly, and her post became almost unbearable at times.

  Thankfully the beach was still clear, though she expected the regular group of kids from school would be coming by in a while. As usual, she’d have to remind them not to leave their plastic soda bottles on the sand, and not to swim out too far. Despite their foibles, she loved to watch them. They seemed so carefree as they splashed in the waves together, giggling and screaming with delight like little kids. They looked like tight knit friendship group, both boys and girls, of so many races, just enjoying each other’s company and having a good time by the sea. Priceless. They’d treasure those memories for the rest of their lives, India reckoned, especially if they moved out of state somewhere colder.

  Until then, she sat watching the waves lap in and out, thinking about Harry and Aleister’s conversation. It seemed pretty straightforward to her – Aleister was furious with Harry for not fulfilling his job as a bodyguard. Nevertheless, the charged emotion of the situation left her with a lingering feeling of unease. The whole thing, solving a murder investigation, was emotionally intense, for sure, but she felt compelled to continue. It was almost like an addiction.

  It was then that she saw Cecelia striding up the beach. Cecelia had an incredible confidence in the way she walked, swinging her arms, her head held high. India came down off her post to meet her on the sand.

  “Hello, India,” Cecelia said with a cool, clear voice. She had huge dark glasses on, giving her bug eyes, and wore nothing else but a white lacy bikini. “Just the person I was looking for.”

  “Here I am,” India said. “What’s up?”

  “I feel absolutely fantastic,” Cecelia announced, spreading her arms and spinning around.

  India gave her a smile, but felt slightly concerned. It looked like the woman was off her head on something, but India had no idea what. Her words didn’t slur, so it didn’t seem like alcohol. “You feel good.”

  “Absolutely. My sister is dead, and I didn’t kill her. Which means I can enjoy my life and not be in prison.”

  India folded her arms. “It sounds like you’re glad your sister is dead.”

  “Of course I am,” she said, thrusting her chin up. “Wouldn’t you be? Favored sister who everyone fell head over heels for and made me invisible is finally gone. It’s a bit sad, but now I can live my life. I can be me. Fabulous me. Not just Katriane’s less sweet, less kind, less feminine sister. But I was always better looking. Anyways, I’m rambling, ha. I came here to tell you that I did not kill the girl. So I’m innocent. As white and pure as snow.”r />
  India turned out to sea, needing the calm roar and motion of the waves to help her get her head together. This day was just getting weirder and weirder. “Cecelia, do you know how to shoot a gun?”

  “No, never done it once in my life,” Cecelia replied, somewhat defiantly.

  “So you weren’t down at the range?”

  “Sometimes, with Harry. Watching him.”

  From the way Cecelia spoke, India could tell this was turning into some massive love triangle. “You had a thing for Harry?”

  “No,” Cecelia said. “He had a thing for me. And Will did. Every man has a thing for me. I mean, look at me. If you were a guy, wouldn’t you?”

  “I suppose,” India said, just to be polite. She wanted to keep Cecelia on side. “Cecelia, I don’t mean to be rude, but it seems you’re not… quite yourself today. Like… you’ve had a drink, or something?”

  Cecelia giggled, walking around to block India’s view of the ocean. “Well, all right, I’ll tell you. But we’ll keep it a girls’ secret, okay? I had a little bit of coke. I keep some with me at all times.”

  “Oh.”

  “You won’t tell my father, will you? He hates all kinds of drugs. Even pot, the silly man. He went crazy when Katriane smelled of it one time. Such a conservative.”

  “All right, I won’t say a word.”

  Cecelia linked arms with India, though their height difference made it rather awkward. “You’re a great person, India.”

  “Thanks.”

  India tried to figure out what this could all mean. Maybe Cecelia and Harry had something going on, and Cecelia convinced Harry to shoot Katriane? Or perhaps she could shoot a gun, and she’d killed Katriane herself. Then perhaps Will had found out, and Cecelia worked with either Harry or her father to stage the suicide. But would Harry really murder for Cecelia? Would Aleister cover for Cecelia, after she’d killed his beloved favored daughter? Or all those theories could be wrong. There were so many possibilities. Any one of them could be the killer. And Malik and Tyler weren’t off the hook, either.

  “So you’re glad your sister’s dead?” India asked, barely able to believe what Cecelia had said.

  Cecelia gave her a huge grin. “Absolutely. She made my life a total misery. I’d often fantasized about killing her. Since I was about ten years old.”

  A shiver ran up India’s spine.

  CHAPTER 9

  It was coming to the end of India’s shift. The whole time, she had felt like a big old cooking pot. Or perhaps, more appropriately, a witch’s cauldron. All these ingredients were going into the brew, all these little clues, and conversations, and emotions, and signs, mixing up together. She’d hoped that by the time she was ready to hop off her post, it would all have bubbled and simmered, and her answer would have risen to the top. Unfortunately, that was not the case. The mixture still swirled and frothed, cloudy and unclear.

  Another older lifeguard called Tony took her place, and she trudged back up to the parking lot to take the bus back home. She tried to plan what she could do when she got home, whether she’d cook or get takeout, if she’d ask Xavier over when he’d finished his shift, if they’d watch a movie. But somehow, she couldn’t enjoy sinking into her relaxing plans. The murders had left a sting in her chest that didn’t seem to fade, and anxiety buzzed around inside her.

  “Miss India,” a man said breathlessly. She turned to see Aleister running up to her. “I just saw you leaving,” he said, back to his kindly self. Or his kindly act, India could not tell which. “I only wanted to apologize for what you witnessed earlier. I’m afraid we are all under a great deal of pressure, and…”

  “It’s all right,” India said. “You don’t have to say sorry to me at all. This is a very difficult situation.”

  “I’m so glad you understand,” he said, reaching out and touching her arm. He really did have a way with people, that much India couldn’t deny. Still, she was not going to be swayed by his charm. He could be the killer, after all.

  India shrugged. “Arguments happen. That’s life.”

  “I’m afraid they happen far too often,” he said. “And I really cannot stand them. Katriane… my poor, dear Katriane and I, certainly had arguments. Despite her frailty, she was strong willed. There were plenty of arguments among the board about the money going missing at the charitable trust she’d set up. And she argued something terribly with Cecelia, too. There was always something to quarrel about with them, about which of them their mother loved the most before she died, which of them I loved the most, about money and their childhood and just about everything.”

  India nodded. “I don’t mean to pry, but why did they argue about money?”

  Aleister touched the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “Oh, well, you see, I had gifted Katriane a substantial sum, and I had not yet done the same for Cecelia. So, of course, accusations of favouritism abounded.”

  “I can imagine,” India said. “Why did you not give Cecelia any money?”

  He frowned. “You will not speak to any trashy magazine, will you, Miss India?”

  “Of course not.”

  “She is a very irresponsible person,” he said. “Taking drugs, splashing money all over the place. She’d blow my fortune in minutes. Katriane… well, she was much more sensible. I knew my money was in good hands.”

  India nodded.

  Aleister’s phone began to ring and he fished it from his pocket. “One moment, Miss India… Hello? Yes, Detective Kimble… Excellent.” His eyes lit up. “I shall bring the entire party, immediately.” He hung up the phone and India looked at him expectantly. “One second, my dear,” he said. “I have to call a taxi.”

  India waited while he booked a taxi to take them to the police station in 15 minutes.

  “Thank you,” he said, then hung up the phone, his eyes bright. “They’ve charged those two boys with Katriane’s murder. It was a robbery gone wrong. Finally my little girl will have her justice.”

  “Yes,” India said, feigning gladness. Something still did not feel quite right. But for Aleister’s sake, she gave a smile. “That’s good news.”

  “Would you like to come with us?” he asked. “There is to be a press conference, and you have been so much help, Miss India.”

  “I would love to come with you,” she said. “Thank you, Aleister.”

  *****

  Soon they were in a large taxi. Aleister sat in the front seat, sitting up straight like a king on a royal tour. Harry slumped in a backseat, and Cecelia hid behind her shades and a large black pashmina wrapped around her shoulders, which was really much too heavy for the warm weather. India sat in a seat in the middle, texting Xavier. She expected he might not have a moment to pick it up, but wanted to let him know she was coming. So much had happened so quickly, it felt like they hadn’t spoken to each other in ages.

  It was not a long drive to the station. There were a couple of camera crews lounging around, but as soon as they saw Aleister step out, they snapped into action and swarmed over to the car. Xavier ran out of the station and held them back. “Not now,” he said firmly. “The press conference will begin soon, and you may ask all your questions then. For now, back off please, and give the family their space.” They still bombarded the family with questions, and even India had a microphone shoved in her face. “Move!” Xavier shouted, and they did begin to back off then.

  Once inside the station, they all looked a lot wearier. Harry still looked like he was on the brink of being suicidal, while Aleister tried to keep a smile plastered on his face, though it was looking more and more forced. Cecelia towered above everyone and didn’t take her shades off.

  Detective Kimble was being unusually friendly, and came in from an office in the back to shake Aleister’s hand, invite them all to sit down, and instruct Xavier to get them drinks. The way he did it left no doubt in India’s mind that he was trying to demean Xavier as much as possible. India, in her boyfriend’s position, would have risen to the bait and talked back,
but somehow Xavier managed to hold it down. She guessed wanting the promotion to detective badly enough helped him swallow it.

  “I’ll help,” India said, then followed Xavier around the corner to the coffee machine.

  Once out of earshot, Xavier looked up at her, worry in his eyes. “Kimble’s certain these two boys did it as part of a robbery, but I don’t know.”

  “I don’t think so,” India said. “It just doesn’t feel right.”

  Xavier punched a button to get the coffee Harry had requested. “I know. That’s what I was thinking. You got any ideas of who did do it?”

  India shook her head, frustrated. “I wish. I’m sure one of these guys is involved, but I don’t know who. One minute I think it’s one of them, the next I think it’s another.”

  “I wish I coulda been there to talk to them like you were,” Xavier said. He lowered his voice. “I think Kimble’s gotten wind that I wanna be a detective, and is trying to keep me well away. He’s not let me so much as look at a paper to do with it. I’ve been making drinks, doing parking ticket administration, stuff I never really do. I feel like he’s punishing me because of the Onyx case.”

  India felt for him. She squeezed his arm. “Babe, I wish we could just be private investigators together. That would be so awesome.”

  Xavier looked doubtful. “I know, but… the whole being self employed thing is so risky. Like, how do you ever get a 401k, and what if you get something wrong, can your client sue you? There’s just so much to think about. It’s not just straightforward and easy.”

  “I never said it would be easy,” India said, feeling defensive. “Anyways, I have no idea who killed Katriane or Will, but we’re going to have to think fast. The reputation of those two boys will be ruined forever. They’ll be chucked out of college, and I bet they won’t get back in even if they’re innocent. And I really think they are.”

  “Me too,” Xavier said. “Kimble’s acting like it’s a closed case. Like they’re a couple of thugs who could never do anything good. He even said they probably enrolled in college as a smokescreen for their criminal activities.”