So, Desmond had tried to sell Barney stamps from Albert’s collection before they’d even had the funeral. Then he’d turned around and tried to implicate Barney. And now Nathan Anderson was involved in some deal gone bad with Desmond too. I didn’t know much about Nathan, except he was involved with Felicity Bates—a woman of wealth and means and mystery who lived in a huge mansion on the outskirts of Mystic Notch. She’d inherited her wealth from her husband, who’d died a while back, and the mansion was actually his family home. Felicity lived there with her son and in-laws.
I wasn’t exactly sure what Felicity did all day. She didn’t work. That was for sure. I knew she fancied herself to be a witch and usually made an appearance when there was anything reputed to be magical around. She’d been after that recipe book that Elspeth now had and an old vial of some goop that Hester Warren had buried on her property three hundred years ago. Not that I believed in magic, but Felicity apparently did. I wasn’t particularly fond of Felicity or her cat, a long-haired white feline named Fluff who seemed to rub my Pandora the wrong way.
I’d had several run-ins with Felicity and her cat after my return to Mystic Notch, and frankly, I wouldn’t put murder past that woman. After all, one of her kids was in jail for the same crime. Maybe it was genetic.
As I rounded the corner, I spotted my sister, Gus, standing outside the bookstore. I made a beeline for her, hoping maybe she had some new information on Albert’s case. But as I got closer, I could tell by the look on her face that she was not pleased. Not good. Not good at all.
“Hey,” I said as I drew up beside Gus. “What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” Gus said, removing all doubt about her temper. She would have been more formidable if she didn’t look like a Barbie in sheriff’s garb with her hourglass figure and delicate features. Even pulling her long blond hair back into a severe ponytail didn’t do much to make her look fierce. The gun at her hip and her dour expression did, though. “Are you sticking your nose into my investigation after I expressly told you not to, Willa?”
While Gus went off, reading me the usual riot act about danger and being a civilian, I glanced inside the shop. Pandora was perched on the back of the purple sofa, staring at me with those emerald eyes of hers, and I’d swear I saw a smirk on her little feline face. I wasn’t sure cats could smirk, but if they could, my cat was definitely doing it.
Gus was still going strong, and I crossed my arms. “I’m not butting into your investigation.”
“Yeah?” My sister stepped closer, her expression unconvinced. “And where were you just now?”
“At the antique store.”
“Barney Delaney’s place?”
“Unless there’s another one in town I don’t know about, yes.” My toe tapped incessantly against the sidewalk, a small concession to the irritation growing inside me. I was a grown woman. A business owner. I did not need to stand here and be lectured to by my sister, sheriff or not. “Why?”
“Why did you go over there?”
“Well, I…” Darn. I tried to come up with some plausible excuse for leaving the bookstore in the middle of the day to go antique shopping but came up empty. Didn’t matter anyway. Gus wasn’t buying my excuse. She never did. “Fine. I went to talk to him about Albert. But I’m not poking into your case. I swear.”
“You better not, Willa.” Gus clenched her jaw. “I’m telling you to stay out of official police business. Leave it to the trained professionals who know how to work a case. I’ve got it covered.” With that, she turned on her heel and headed back toward her squad car parked at the curb. I waited until she’d pulled away before I went inside.
Hanna finished up her shift then left for the day. I took a seat behind the counter and gave Pandora a skeptical look. She purred loudly and went back to sleep. Things were slow around the shop, so I reshelved for a while then opened a few boxes of new stock we’d received and set about making a new display. Out of the blue, Pandora sat up and hissed.
“What’s the matter, girl?” I asked, glancing out the front windows of the shop. The window looked out on Main Street, running from two feet off the floor to the ten-foot-high ceiling. Standing on the sidewalk right outside was none other than Felicity Bates, and she was arguing with… Nathan Anderson! Speak of the devils.
Whatever they were fighting about, they both looked heated—their hands flying and their faces flushed. I sidled closer, hoping to perhaps overhear some of their conversation without being too obvious about my snooping. Unfortunately, the big plate-glass windows really did dampen the sound. I scooched over to the edge of the window, leaning closer. I couldn’t hear a thing except the odd snatch of words—something about a note or letter and stamps. My eyes widened, and my pulse sped. Could they be arguing about Albert’s missing letter?
I was trying to work out how Felicity’s interest in magic might translate into stamps and letters when Fluff leapt up on his hind legs, his face smashing into the window right in front of Pandora. He hissed nastily, his leash dangling from the matching pink collar around his neck. I supposed I would’ve been upset too if I were a male cat, made to wear a ridiculous fuchsia-and-rhinestone monstrosity like that.
Pandora was caught off guard and tumbled off the windowsill to the floor, poor thing. At the sound of the cat hissing, Felicity and Nathan both turned to stare at Fluff then through the windows into the shop at me. I jumped back, praying they hadn’t seen me spying on them.
10
Pandora scrambled to her feet then shook her head and stuck her tail up as if she’d meant to do that all along. How dare Fluff awaken her so rudely? Damn that cat, always causing trouble. She peeked up over the windowsill to see Fluff standing outside, laughing evilly as he licked his paw and stared back at her.
“I see your human is still leading you around,” Pandora said, hoping to get a reaction out of him. She leapt up onto the sixteen-inch-wide ledge at the bottom of the window where her cat bed sat and settled on her haunches, giving her a height advantage as she glared out the window at the other cat.
Fluff stopped his grooming long enough to meet her gaze levelly. “No one leads me anywhere I don’t want to go. We both know I’m in charge.”
“Maybe,” Pandora said, giving a small shrug. “But what brings you here? Is it this letter your humans are arguing about?”
That woman Felicity wasn’t to be trusted. All the cats knew her and were wary of her powers. She was a dark one, with minor natural talents she sought to improve. And she was just the type to want to dig up all the ingredients for the pleasantry charm that Hester Warren had buried. She’d like nothing better than to be able to swoop in and grow her evil powers if the spell should become reversed.
The man with Felicity, Nathan Anderson, Pandora wasn’t as familiar with. She had thought he was a friend of the local feral cats, but if he was hanging around with Felicity Bates, then she might have to reconsider that opinion. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time things weren’t as they seemed in Mystic Notch.
Fluff, of course, continued to play dumb. “Letter? I don’t know anything about a letter.”
“Sure you don’t.” Pandora stretched then lifted a paw to preen. “I think perhaps all those rhinestones are starting to affect your brain.”
“You’re just jealous because your poor human will never be able to buy you such fine things to wear.” Fluff raised his chin haughtily. The effect, however, was ruined when Felicity tugged on the leash attached to his harness and yanked the cat backward, causing him to stumble over his own paws. He glared into the shop, first at Pandora then at Willa, who was hiding off to the side. If she lived through all nine lives and beyond, Pandora would never understand all these silly humans acting ridiculous. A cat would strut proudly, not hide away in the shadows.
Pandora yawned, watching as Felicity led Fluff away. Nathan took off in the opposite direction, his steps hard and his expression harder. She’d file that information away to think about and analyze later. Perh
aps there was something to be learned that would help her cause. The cats of Mystic Notch would be interested to know that Felicity might be seeking the letter. For now, it was time for another catnap. A girl needed her beauty sleep after all, and her last nap had been so rudely interrupted.
11
Striker came over for dinner again that night. Honestly, I was starting to wonder if seeing him so often was a good thing. Not that I didn’t enjoy his company. I did, perhaps too much. See, up until the last couple of months, we’d been pretty much on-again, off-again. Now, we were in an “on” phase—very much “on.” And don’t get me wrong, I liked Striker. A lot.
But there was a big secret I was keeping from him—namely the fact I could see and communicate with ghosts. To most men, that would be a deal breaker, so I hadn’t told him. Hadn’t told anyone except Pepper. Once I did come out with the truth, things with Striker would be over. I was sure. I guess I just wanted our little bit of normal to last a tad longer.
He texted me to let me know he was bringing pizza, and I sent back a thumbs-up emoji. Good thing because all I had in the fridge was cottage cheese and whipped cream in the can. For such a small town, Mystic Notch had some great eateries, and Debrazzi’s pizza was one of my faves. I set out plates and napkins on the kitchen table then settled into a corner of the sofa to wait. Honestly, before Striker had offered to come over, I’d planned on spending my night with a fresh pot of dandelion tea and Albert’s ghost. After speaking with the Schumer family and, later, Barney, I really wanted to get more information directly from the source.
Seeing as my fridge was empty and my stomach was growling, however, I changed my mind. Besides, I could always hold a powwow with Albert after Striker left. If Albert would appear. If he didn’t, I guessed I was on my own.
I was scrolling through my emails when a loud, outraged hiss emanated from the porch, followed by a muttered, masculine curse and a dull thud. I rushed over to the door and opened it to find Pandora scampering to the far end of the wooden porch while Striker pulled himself up from the floor, the pizza box precariously balanced on one hand. I took the food from him and held the door until he was inside. He was limping slightly, and I frowned. “What happened?”
“Your cat tripped me. That’s what happened.” He hobbled over to the table and plopped down, rubbing his sore knee. Pandora squeezed through the crack in the door before I closed it, giving me an innocent look as she passed. I knew better.
“I’m so sorry.” I took the pizza into the kitchen. “Is that the same knee you banged earlier?”
“Yeah, hurts like heck.”
“You’re in luck. Pepper gave me some tea earlier that’s supposed to help with joint pain. My leg was killing me this morning, and I will say it did help. Should get your knee back to normal in no time.”
“I don’t know, Chance,” Striker said, grimacing. “I’m not much of an herbal tea guy.”
“Trust me, you’ll like this. It’s made from dandelions. Go lounge on the sofa, and I’ll bring this stuff in.”
Striker did as told, and I filled my kettle with water, set it on high, then brought the pizza back into the living room along with the plates and napkins I’d put out earlier. I set it all on the coffee table before us. I figured we could eat here and be cozy, and I could save Striker the pain of moving around until his knee felt better. “So, how was your day? Any big doings in Dixford Pass?”
“Nah. Couple of missing chickens I tracked down this afternoon. And a loitering charge filed against a college kid who’d gotten a little too besotted with his sweetheart and was hanging around her front yard too much. The dad wanted to teach him a lesson, so I got called in. No harm done.” He cracked open the pizza box, and the succulent aromas of melted cheese and rich tomato sauce filled the air. He’d gotten pepperoni and mushroom, my favorite. After serving us each up a slice, Striker closed the box and sat back to eat.
I did my best to ignore the enticing way his navy-blue T-shirt stretched over his muscled chest and arms or how the deep-blue color brought out the stormy gray of his eyes.
“How about you, Chance. Hear any more about Albert?”
I opened my mouth to answer but was halted by the screech of the kettle in the kitchen. Talk about saved by the bell. I excused myself and hurried off to fix us each a mug of tea. Knowing its effect on me, I didn’t want to drink too much in front of Striker for fear I’d start seeing my undead friend again. He bravely tried his, declared it “not so bad after all,” and promptly downed half a cup. I refilled it for him then settled in to eat.
“I haven’t heard anything new, really, about Albert’s case,” I said around a bite of food. It wasn’t completely the truth, what with the conversations I’d had, but I didn’t want to say too much because Gus had told me to stay out of it and I knew that my sister and Striker talked on a professional basis. “Pepper and I did go see the Schumer family this morning, to pay our respects.”
“Hmm.” Striker gave me a narrowed glance. “I hope for your sake that’s all it was, Chance. I don’t like you putting yourself in danger in a murder investigation.”
I nodded and sipped more of my tea, noticing Pandora sitting on the armchair across from me. She was staring at the crystal globe paperweight on the table as if hypnotized. I looked too and spotted strange, muted colors reflecting in the glass. If I squinted, it almost looked like there was some kind of letter trapped inside, the writing faded and looping. I set my mug of tea aside and leaned forward for a closer inspection, but as I did so, wisps of smoke began to gather in the corner opposite me.
Oh no. Albert!
My eyes widened, and I bit my lips. It wasn’t like I could just tell him to come back at a more convenient time. I tried jerking my head in a not-so-subtle gesture for him to beat it, but no such luck.
“Everything okay, Willa?” Striker asked, watching me with a concerned expression. His gaze darted from me to the corner where my attention was focused, and he got a funny look on his face. Probably realizing what a weirdo he was dating. “Uh, hey, is that a band of turkeys out there?”
“What? Where?” I looked out the window where Striker was pointing but didn’t see any turkeys.
“Forget about the turkeys, and listen to me. My death was no accident.” Albert’s ghost swirled up in front of us, blocking the window. Great, now he wanted to tell me all about his death. Perfect. Too bad I couldn’t ask him how he knew that and who was behind it with Striker in here. I made a face at Albert, hoping he’d get the message, but when Striker turned in my direction, I plastered on an innocent look.
“Oh wait, is that a deer?” I pointed out the other window, hoping to distract Striker long enough to make some get-lost gesture that Albert would understand.
“I don’t see anything…”
Albert swirled in front of us again. “What is wrong with you people? I need your help.”
Striker took my hand and pulled me up from the couch. “On second thought, that might be a deer. A whole herd of them. Let’s go out and see.”
I seized the opportunity, scrambling to my feet. “Yes. Fresh air would do us both good, I think.”
Luckily, it was unseasonably warm that night, since neither of us seemed particularly worried about coats.
“Uh, yeah. Fresh air,” he mumbled, distracted. Striker opened the door and all but shoved me out onto the porch then stumbled outside with me. “I, um, thought I saw a moose at the edge of your property when I pulled up,” he said, his voice quiet and distant.
What was wrong with him? He was acting odd… Shoot! This was it. He’d realized I was too strange for him and was breaking it off. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.
We both turned to gaze out at the darkening tree line of my property. A warm breeze scented with decaying leaves and dirt stirred. I remained silent while I waited for him to drop the bomb. After a while, when he didn’t say anything, my pulse began to slow and my tense shoulders relaxed as the warm breeze drifted past us. Maybe he couldn’t figu
re out how to word it. Knowing Striker and the nice guy that he was, I thought he was probably trying to figure out how to break it to me gently.
Maybe I should help him out. But I didn’t have time to think about how to do that because just then, Albert’s ghostly form materialized through the wall of the house to stand near us on the porch and I nearly gagged on my tongue. Albert gave me a peevish stare and said, “If anyone cares, I was shoved.”
Striker grabbed my shoulders and turned me away from Albert. Here it comes, the big breakup.
Albert glided over beside Striker, and Striker turned me in the other direction. “The moose was right over there.”
“Oh.” I looked in the direction Striker was pointing. Maybe he wasn’t breaking up with me.
We only had a few seconds of peace, staring off into the woods, before Albert swirled before us again. I grabbed Striker’s hand. “Maybe we should go back inside.”
Striker was staring at the woods still, right through Albert’s ghost. His face was pale, his jaw tight. “Yeah, we should go somewhere…”
“Listen! I’ve had enough,” Albert yelled in his spooky spirit voice, somewhere between a deep, bellowing gust and a foghorn. “You both need to stop and listen to me! Right now!”
Even Striker seemed taken aback at Albert’s loud proclamation. Wait a minute… Striker… taken aback? But how could that be? And then I realized what Albert had just said.
“Both?” Striker and I said the word at the same time.
Albert nodded. “Both.”
Striker slowly met my gaze, his eyes filled with wariness and wonder. “Both.”
12
Wait a minute…” I started.
Whisker of a Doubt (Mystic Notch Cozy Mystery Series Book 6) Page 5
