Wedding Spells
Page 8
“Yes, although his insurance would cover it, but perhaps, as you say, his old self came to the surface. That bears looking into. Oh, no pun intended.” Ruprecht flushed red.
The pizzas arrived, and we fell silent while we ate. I had just finished my first piece of pizza when I remembered Maeve McKenzie. “Don’t forget Maeve,” I said, spearing a piece of wayward pineapple with my fork. “Bertha was horrible to Maeve’s twins, Hogan and Logan, that day I first met Bertha in the café.”
“But surely Maeve wouldn’t murder someone over that,” Thyme protested. “That really isn’t a motive.”
“Oh yes it is!” I said. “I’ve heard all sorts of things mothers do when people say things about their young children. There was a case recently. The details escape me, but a parent complained to the teacher that the bus didn’t wait for their child, and the teacher said the child was too slow. The parent went to great lengths to take revenge on the teacher. There was a big court case over it.”
“Oh yes, I think I saw something about that on TV at the time,” Mint said. “Still, it seems a bit of a stretch to me.”
Ruprecht set down his wine glass. “It is worth looking into. We should leave no stone unturned.”
“Speaking of stones,” Camino said, “I have a pile of rocks in my car. Ruprecht, would you mind fetching them for me?” She slid her car keys across the table to him.
Ruprecht shot her a weary look. “I hesitate to ask,” he said, “but why do you want rocks inside my house?”
“We’re camping, aren’t we? We need rocks to make it more realistic. And Ruprecht, is there any chance of a real campfire?”
Chapter 14
It had been a hard night. I had woken up with an awfully sore neck and no matter what I did, I couldn’t stretch out the pain. I suppose I should have expected it after sleeping with my head on a rock at Camino’s insistence.
Thankfully, Ruprecht had not allowed her to have a real fire burning in the middle of the room, so we had slept in front of Ruprecht’s combustion wood heater in the corner. I’d had a sleepless night, tossing and turning and worrying about Alder.
I had thought through the suspects and no one person in particular stood out. I figured Bertha had left a trail of enemies throughout her life, but whoever killed her was surely present at the wedding. That certainly served to narrow it down.
I rubbed my neck once more and looked up when someone entered the shop, hoping it was Prudence. I had invited Prudence over to speak to her about Bertha. It was going to be a delicate conversation, with me not trying to give any hint that I suspected her.
To my surprise, the customer was Craig. Camino stuck her head around the door to the back room. “Coffee?”
“No, I’m just here for cupcakes,” Craig said. “Are you alone out here, Amelia?”
The question was strange. The showroom was small, leaving anyone in full view. I bit back the sarcastic remark that someone was hiding in the barista machine. “Everyone is in the back room,” I told him. Craig was a local firefighter and on occasion stopped by to buy cupcakes for the other firefighters. Usually, however, he was accompanied by his long-term girlfriend, Kayleen, the unpleasant mail lady. The trouble was that Craig had other girlfriends and I wasn’t sure that Kayleen knew about them.
“What can I do for you, Craig?” I asked him.
He winked at me. “Are you flirting with me, Amelia?”
I was aghast. “No! Whatever would give you such an idea?”
His face fell. “Oh, well, I just thought that with Alder in jail and probably going away for life, you’d be looking for other fish in the sea.”
“In your dreams!” I said. “Besides, Alder isn’t going away for life. He didn’t murder his aunt, and when they find out who did, he’ll be out.”
Craig winked at me again. “Well, the offer’s there, Amelia. If you ever want some fun…”
Kayleen burst into the room. She barged over to Craig, gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and seized his elbow. It was all I could do not to giggle. With Kayleen, Craig had his just desserts.
“Hello Amelia,” she said through slitted eyes. “I should be offended that we weren’t invited to your wedding.”
“It was a tiny wedding with only immediate family and friends,” I said.
“I’m hurt that you don’t consider me a friend,” she said, clutching her chest. “Don’t think I’m petty if I don’t invite you to our wedding.” She tugged on Craig’s elbow which caught him off balance, and he nearly fell.
“No, I hope you have a lovely wedding,” I said in the most even tone I could muster. “What cupcakes would you like today, Craig?”
“I’d like those red velvet cupcakes,” he said, jabbing his finger on the display cabinet and avoiding my gaze. I packaged them up and took his money, all the while trying not to smile. Craig was a lowlife, and I’m sure he could not find a way to escape from Kayleen. It served him right.
Before they went, Kayleen could not resist a passing shot. “You must be so worried what with your new husband locked up,” she said. “Although I must say, everyone thinks he did the town a favour.”
I was about to protest Alder’s innocence, but my ears pricked up at her words. “What do you mean?”
“No one liked Bertha Bunyons,” Kayleen said. “She hasn’t been in town for years. I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did.”
“You thought someone would have murdered her by now?” I asked.
She snorted, a sound that might have made her sound like an angry pig, only pigs are delightful and Kayleen wasn’t. “No, silly. I used to deliver her mail, and I couldn’t help noticing that it was strong medication for a serious medical condition. I thought she would have met her maker years ago.” With that, she dragged Craig from the shop.
Camino hurried out. “That woman just grates on my nerves.”
“You and me both,” I said. “Camino, Kayleen said that Bertha had a serious illness.”
“Oh, Kayleen would know, that’s for sure.” Camino rubbed her chin. “We all know Kayleen looks inside all the mail packages.”
I nodded. “Which is precisely why I pay for a PO Box, so she can’t snoop. I wonder if the police know this?”
“I’ll tell Mint so she can tell Chris,” Thyme said, emerging from the back room. “You know, that could be a clue.”
I scratched my head. “Yes, it could be, although I can’t make the connection.”
“It means the murderer didn’t know she was dying from a serious illness,” Thyme pointed out. “That helps narrow it down even more. If the murderer knew she was already on her way out, then there would be no reason to kill her.”
“That doesn’t really help us at all,” I said, “only if the motive was simply to murder Bertha. What if the motive was to implicate Alder all along?”
“You’re complicating things unnecessarily,” Ruprecht said as he slipped through the door. “Have I ever told you about Occam’s Razor?”
“Yes,” Thyme and I all but yelled.
“And please don’t tell us again,” Camino said. “We understood the first time.”
Ruprecht held up both hands in mock surrender. “All right. Suffice to say, the simplest solution is usually the best. It’s a remote possibility that someone has gone to all this trouble to pin the murder on Alder. It seems more likely that the motive was to murder Bertha, and the culprit pinned the murder on Alder simply to deflect attention.”
“Still, it’s a possibility,” I persisted.
“A remote one,” Ruprecht conceded. “But for now, let us pursue the avenues open to us. Is Prudence still coming?”
I craned my neck to look out the window. “As far as I know. She should be here any minute.”
Prudence arrived soon after. “I’m so sorry about Alder,” she said. “I really don’t think he did it.”
“He sure didn’t,” I said. “Prudence, thank you for planning a lovely wedding.”
Her face fell. “We’ll have a love
ly reception for you when Alder gets out of jail,” she said.
“Yes, we will,” Ruprecht said.
“Prudence, we know Alder didn’t do it, but Detective Barrett thinks he did,” I told her. “We’re trying to look into Bertha’s past to give us some clue as to what’s really going on. If we know what sort of person she was, then we will know where to look.”
Ruprecht nodded. “You could really help us, Prudence, if you wouldn’t mind being forthcoming. I know you would feel uneasy disclosing personal details, but it would help us clear Alder’s name if we knew exactly what Bertha was capable of doing.”
Prudence looked doubtful. I pulled out a row of cheesecake cupcakes and offered her one. “Ruprecht, could you flip the sign to closed?”
He did as I asked, and Camino appeared from the back room. “Prudence, would you like a latte? Cappuccino? How do you have your coffee?”
Soon Prudence was sipping a hazelnut almond latte and eating a fair share of cupcakes. “It’s very upsetting for me,” she said.
“I’m sure it is,” Ruprecht said in soothing tones. “Please take your time telling us about the dreadful woman.”
Prudence rubbed her eyes. “I was engaged. It was over ten years ago. He was my childhood sweetheart you could say, because I’d known him since I was a child. He didn’t know I was a witch, but I don’t think he would have had a problem with it.” Her voice broke. “That is, if I’d had a chance to explain it to him the right way,” she added. “Bertha knew I was a witch—she knew all the witches in town, of course.”
Ruprecht smiled. “Do go on.”
“I didn’t know what had happened at first because it was all terribly sudden. One day, Trent suddenly stopped returning my calls. When I went to his house, he wouldn’t open the door to me. I couldn’t understand it at all, so I stood outside the door and asked him to tell me if the wedding was off. He opened the door, and thrust a bunch of photos at me. He said Bertha had told him I was a witch and that I sacrificed children and small animals to Satan.”
“You’re kidding!” I said. “Witches don’t believe in Satan! And that’s crazy about sacrificing animals and children.”
“Tell me about it!” Prudence had gone from sad to furious in a flash. “You know, I’m not sorry she’s dead. I know that sounds terrible, but I’m not sorry she’s dead! Bertha had gone to all that trouble having those photos photoshopped to look like me.”
“Did your boyfriend ever give you a chance to explain?” I asked her.
She shook her head and a tear trickled down her cheek. “No. I went around to explain it all to him the next day, but there was a For Sale sign on his house and he was gone. I never saw him again. I often search for him on Facebook, but I’ve never been able to find him. That woman ruined my life. I’ve never been in love with anyone else.”
“Is that why you’ve never married?” I asked her.
She nodded slowly.
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to tell her that the guy wasn’t worth it if he didn’t give her a chance to explain, but I thought that would only make her more upset.
She slammed her fist on my display cabinet, startling me. Even Ruprecht jumped. “I hope Alder gets off,” she said, “but I hope whoever did it is never caught. They did the world a favour.”
Chapter 15
I juggled five steaming hot butterscotch lattés as Thyme drove to my house in her little car, the froth spilling into my lap as we roared around corners. I don’t know why I said no to lids at the café. I wanted to protect the environment and had paid no thought to burning hot liquids. Thyme giggled with sheer glee as we hit a curb and I bumped my head against the roof.
“Steady!” I yelled, just as we pulled into my driveway. She nearly murdered my garbage bins, which was rude, seeing as I’m not sure they had ever done anything to her. “Why are we in such a hurry?”
“No reason,” she said, but I didn’t believe her. She looked shifty.
I undid the seatbelt with my elbow and gingerly climbed out of the car, not sure if I still had the stomach for the richness of butterscotch. Oh, no, I thought, spying Ruprecht’s and Mint’s cars at Camino’s house along with a few others. “Camino has visitors and I only got enough lattes for the five of us.”
“Let’s get inside,” Thyme said, elbowing me in the back.
I was at once suspicious. “What’s the hurry?”
Thyme shot me a look of pure innocence. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
She took off down the path so I hurried after her, still juggling all five lattés. Thyme opened the door and stood aside for me to go in first.
As we walked into the living room, people jumped out from behind the sofas and yelled, “Surprise!”
I dropped five butterscotch lattés down my shirt.
“But, but it’s not my birthday,” I stammered, trying to not think about my skin burning like it had just been licked by Lucifer himself.
“It’s a surprise wedding reception to cheer you up,” Camino said, because nothing says cheering a girl up like scalding hot coffee.
I looked at her and then did a double take. “Camino, what’s that onesie?” I asked her.
“I’m Alder, of course. Can’t you see?” She scrunched up her nose. “We will have a proper reception for you later when Alder’s released, but I thought a surprise reception would cheer you up. I’m standing in as Alder.”
“But Alder doesn’t have a beard or a moustache.” I nodded to the fake beard and handlebar moustache loosely attached to Camino’s face.
She sighed. “Oh Amelia, sometimes you’re just too literal for your own good. This is to represent the fact that I’m a man, of course.”
“I would have thought those printouts of Alder’s face pinned all over the onesie would have done the trick,” Thyme said with a chuckle.
I did a double take. “Where did you get those?” I asked Camino, squinting at the photos.
“Chris helped me out with that,” she said.
I looked up at Chris who stepped behind Mint and afforded me a small smile. “They’re photocopies of Alder’s mugshot,” he said helpfully. “I think he was sneezing at the time,” he added.
I had no words. To say I was overwhelmed was an understatement.
“We’ve all brought plates of food,” Camino said. “I hope this cheers you up, Amelia.”
“It does,” I said. “Thanks for being so thoughtful.”
Dawson patted me awkwardly on my back. “I’m sure Alder will be out in no time. You haven’t been doing any investigating, have you?”
“No, no, of course not,” Thyme and I said in unison. I’m sure we weren’t entirely believable, but Dawson didn’t push it.
I thought I’d turn the tables back on him. “Do you have any suspects yet, apart from Alder, of course?”
Dawson gestured to Chris. “The detectives are on the case.”
Chris did not look pleased to be put on the spot. “Barrett is the senior investigating officer, I’m afraid. I keep pointing out other suspects to him.”
“I tell Chris everything that we have discovered to date,” Mint said. She quickly amended that to, “Discovered entirely by accident, of course.”
“Something strikes me as funny, but I can’t see what it has to do with the case,” I told Chris. “Bertha had a farm out of town and she used to stay there on a regular, if infrequent, basis. Why did she want to stay with Alder the entire week before the wedding? She could easily have stayed in her house.”
“Perhaps it’s in a state of disrepair now or something,” Chris said. “Maybe she has the house rented out.”
I shook my head. “No, she rents out the land, but not the house, as far as I know. Anyway, like I said, I can’t see what it would have to do with her murder.”
“Still, it’s worth looking into,” Chris said. “Sometimes things seem to be completely irrelevant, but then something throws up a clue.”
I bit my lip. “I can’t help thinking that Alder was the real tar
get,” I said, but Camino tapped my shoulder.
“This is a happy fake wedding reception,” she said. “We have to pretend that everything is all right to cheer you up. No more discussing the case. Let’s dance.”
With that, the house turned on some stirring music, and Camino led me in a wild dance around the living room much to the amusement of everyone else.
“Who turned on the music?” Chris asked, looking around in shock.
“I did,” Thyme said.
Chris appeared to believe her. Of course, he would hardly have any idea that my deceased grandmother had full control of the house.
“What on earth is this dance?” I asked Camino when I could finally draw breath.
“Why, it’s the polka, of course. Haven’t you ever done the polka before?”
I had to admit that I hadn’t. “Well, that was a lovely dance. Thanks, Camino. Can we eat now?”
There was a bit of a chill to the air so I made a show of lighting the fire for Chris’s benefit. I was glad the house was on her best behaviour, lighting the fire in a subtle manner and not turning on the TV. Mint and Chris were in a new relationship and he wasn’t a witch, so finding out about the house would be a dreadful shock.
Soon we were sitting around the fire, tucking into all manner of goodies—sticky date tarts, triple chocolate frosted cupcakes, lime and coconut cupcakes, raspberry meringues—and drinking champagne.
“Do you feel happy now?” Camino asked me.
I nodded. “Thanks so much for this. It really has cheered me up.”
“I had better get back to work,” Chris said. “It won’t go over well for me if Barrett finds I’ve been fraternising with the enemy, so to speak.”
Mint showed him to the door. It was a while before she returned.
“I don’t have to go,” Dawson said as he helped himself to a huge piece of lemon meringue pie. “I have the afternoon off,” he added through a mouthful.
“Dawson, do you really think Detective Barrett will look for suspects other than Alder?” I asked him.
“I’m sure Chris is on his back,” Dawson said. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you, Amelia.”