Where There's A Witch, There's A Way (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 13)

by Dakota Cassidy

  “I think over the years she’s become very strong, Arkady. It’s the only explanation I have. She’s been a ghost for a long time. I can’t explain why she hasn’t crossed over other than she has something she needs to get through. Maybe she’s always been around and Cleo missed the signs. But whatever she’s trying to tell us now, we won’t know what it means until Cleo can interpret, and we won’t know if she’s allowed bail until at least tomorrow. We’re dead-ended until then.”

  “Physical evidence?” Bel asked. “There must be something.”

  I shook my aching head. “Only the video and the hair they found on the hoodie that Luis mentioned, which remains unidentified. He only had preliminary reports. There isn’t much else at this point. But it’s only day one.”

  I soothed myself with that thought. Though, Cleo stuck in jail overnight upset me no end.

  Win leaned back in his chair and sighed a ragged sigh. “Then let’s hope Luis has more information for us by tomorrow. I’d surely love to see that video, Dove.”

  I leaned on the back of my hand and sighed, too, my stomach full and my brain exhausted. “Ditto.”

  As we all sat and pondered, I scrolled Facebook pages, and the few comments that could be read were mostly inconsequential and had nothing to do with anything regarding Doug.

  I also perused Doug’s page and read condolence after condolence, but got nothing that might help with the investigation. Not a single bad word about him from anyone. I half expected to see a comment from Leslie, but there was nothing.

  I shut my laptop and let out a yelp of frustration. “Dang it all, Doug! What did you mean when you said I’m gonna tell her and I don’t care what you say? What the heck were you up to?”

  All of a sudden, the air in the kitchen grew thick and heavy and the scent of sulfur wafted to my nose.

  I sat up, my spine rigid. Win and I looked at each other seconds before the room began to shake.

  “Malutka? What is happening?” Arkady yelled over the sudden rumble of thunder.

  Bel flew up toward the ceiling, his tiny wings flapping before he dove for my shoulder and tucked himself inside my hair with a violent shiver. “What the heck, Boss?”

  What the heck indeed?

  “Stephania!” Win bellowed as the roar picked up and a gusty wind began to blow.

  The tingle along my spine increased as I looked around, the pressure in my head intensifying, but I didn’t see anything at all.

  “Win? Can you hear anything?” I howled as I gripped the edge of the table with my aching hands to keep from tipping over.

  But Win shook his head as he fought his way out of the chair to shield me.

  And then everything all manner of mayhem happened at once.

  As I watched my kitchen being torn to shreds, as floorboards pulled up and dings began to appear in our shiny fridge, I lost my cool.

  Clinging to Win, I hauled myself up, my feet still in the spa foot massager, water sloshing everywhere, and yelled, “Okay, that will be enough! Do you hear me? Knock it the heck off!”

  When the words flew out of my mouth, the commotion instantly stopped. As the dust settled and I looked around at the mess, I saw a message scrawled on the wall in, of all things, Sharpie (dang that’s hard to clean!) by the pantry door.

  Not his. Mine.

  Let the ominous music play.

  Chapter 17

  After we’d cleaned up the mess our entity made, Win insisted I go to bed, and honestly, I wasn’t up to fighting him. He’d helped me upstairs, waited while I changed into my pajamas and washed my makeup away, then tucked me in, leaving a kiss on my forehead before he turned the light off and sat in the big armchair by the window, to wait until I drifted off.

  Whiskey climbed up on the bed and tucked in against me, completing our nighttime ritual, while Strike sat on Win’s lap and Bel nested in my hair.

  And I’m telling you, I crashed hard. I thought surely my head would spin with questions about what happened in the kitchen, but what else was there to say? Whoever was trying to get that message to us was angry. Disturbingly so.

  Yet, I was so tired from the long first day back to work, and arguing with Dana, squabbling women and a bash to the head, not to mention my run-in with a killer, and the anguish I felt over Cleo being very clearly wrongly accused, my eyes refused to stay open.

  Now, as I made my way downstairs after a shower and some quick makeup application, I left everyone, even Whiskey and Strike, snoozing on the bed to enjoy a moment alone with my thoughts, some coffee and some aspirin for my aching extremities.

  And maybe a Twinkie…

  Win had, of course, set the coffeepot for me so I had nothing more to do than press the handle down and watch my coffee gurgle a lively dance into my mug.

  I popped open the French doors and let the fresh morning air in, inhaling deeply the scent of newly mown grass and the water rolling along. My head was feeling better and even though the egg on it hadn’t aged well overnight, it looked worse than it felt.

  My feet and palms, however? They hurt, but I’d survive.

  I looked around the kitchen at the repairs that had to be done because of the ghostly hissy fit last night and wondered how we were going to explain this to Enzo.

  Seeing the words written on the wall made me angry. Sharpie was hard to cover.

  I shook my finger up at the ceiling with the harshest frown I could summon. “I’m so mad at you guys today. There are more peaceful ways to show me what you want, you know. Try using your words another way—and quit with the stinky egg smell and the windstorms!”

  I stomped off to grab my cup of coffee and try to remember where we left our extra paint from the kitchen. We’d recently painted it a gorgeous light gray. It was going to take a miracle to get that Sharpie covered.

  Pouring a heavy dose of flavored creamer into my cup, I scooped up my phone (Win had insisted I leave it down here last night) and noted it was already eight in the morning.

  And I had a text message from Jay Burns.

  Interesting.

  Maybe he’d remembered something helpful? Something important?

  But when I popped open his text, it was to invite us to their early evening wedding as a way to say thank you for trying to help Cleo. He said despite the tragedy, he and Tammy had decided to forge ahead because that’s what Doug and Fallon would want.

  Thinking about Cleo and how she’d likely miss her lifelong best friend’s wedding made me both angry and sad, but I didn’t know how to answer Jay.

  Two people were dead and this wedding was happening anyway. I certainly understood money likely played a factor. Weddings were expensive, especially if Tammy was involved, I’m sure.

  But they didn’t look like the kind of couple who couldn’t afford to lose a deposit. Maybe that was insensitive, but wasn’t it more insensitive to have a wedding in spite of the fact that two people were dead—one a family member to boot, distant or not—and your closest friend was in jail for murder?

  I turned to the tune of Win’s cultured voice, finding him dressed in beige trousers and a collared navy shirt, cell at his ear. “Yes, Luis. I’m with her now. I’ll pass the information on. Talk soon.”

  I began a cup of coffee for Win before I braced myself and asked, “Bad news?”

  His sigh was ragged, though he looked fresh as a daisy. He held out his hand to me, cinching the deal that the news was bad. “It certainly wasn’t good. The judge assigned to Cleo’s case had a family emergency and is unable to perform his duties. The bail hearing is postponed until next week. Which means she sits in jail for the weekend.”

  My stomach plunged to the ground when I took his hand.

  “I’m sorry, Dove. Luis said he did everything he could, but that bloody video isn’t helping Cleo’s defense.”

  “But it’s so obvious she didn’t do it now that Fallon’s been killed! Do they really think we have two killers on our hands?” How could they possibly think Cleo had anything to do with it?

/>   “Ah, Dove. Could I fix this, I surely would.”

  “Any hope of getting the video?” I asked, hearing the misery in my voice.

  He gave me a sympathetic glance as he held out his arms for me to enter. “Not anytime soon.”

  I snuggled up against his hard chest and inhaled his cologne, allowing myself a moment to find comfort. “How about fingerprints on the cake server and the tests for the hair they found on the hoodie? Anything there?”

  “Not until at least Monday. Some sort of trouble at the lab on another, bigger case, according to Luis.”

  “You know, I never did ask Tammy about the cake server.”

  “Because you didn’t want to talk about something that hasn’t officially been released.”

  “I’m pretty sure they all saw the cake server hanging out of Doug’s head, Win.”

  “I’m sure they did. However, they aren’t all the killer and without close examination, you can’t see the engraving on it with Tammy and Jay’s names. Without that, it’s just a cake server. There are plenty of those in Eb Falls, Dove. You did the right thing by keeping that detail to yourself.”

  “Ugh,” I moaned, resting my cheek on his pec. “But in other news, we were last-minute invited to Tammy and Jay’s wedding.”

  Win pressed his lips to the top of my head and muttered, “Isn’t that today?”

  “It is.”

  “We have two options. We can attend and snoop around about Fallon Merriweather, which, if I know my beloved, you’ll consider a dream come true. Or we can take the day off and wait around, sulking because we’re both invested in Cleo’s release from jail.”

  I perked up a little. “We could observe all the suspects at the wedding, right? And there’s probably a bunch of people who know Fallon. Maybe we can ask around about her, and it might give us a real look into how the rest of them behave in a social setting. Maybe we’ll overhear something, see something—anything?”

  “If yesterday was any indication about how they behave socially, this should be a rollicking good time, and in their finest clothing, to boot.”

  Now I laughed, too, tipping my head back to look up at him. “Bet they’ll have some icky fig and goat cheese appetizers.”

  “And Yo-Yo Ma. How is it that the likes of Tammy Parker knows Yo-Yo Ma and we can’t get measly Adele to sing at our wedding?”

  I grinned up at him. “Maybe you can get Tammy’s people to call Yo-Yo’s people and make it all better.”

  He lifted a raven eyebrow. “Maybe. For now, I must press a shirt and prepare a suit for this auspicious day. We have a wedding to attend, beloved. Shall we gear up to observe potential killers in their element?”

  A warm breeze blew in from the French doors, caressing my face, but I felt anything but soothed. “Do we still think it’s one of the wedding party?”

  Win ran his knuckles down my cheek. “Do we have any other suspects?”

  My sigh indicated my defeat. “Only Marie, the woman Doug had an affair with. I sent her a message on Facebook. But I haven’t heard back. So um, nope.”

  “Then it’s a lovely day for a wedding, don’t you agree?”

  “Well, aren’t you dapper?” I commented as Win entered the kitchen in an expensive tan suit with a red tie.

  “Thank you, milady, and you, as always, are breathtaking.” He took my hand and spun me around, the skirt of my floral dress fanning outward.

  I’d chosen a soft-white halter-top dress with boldly large rose-gold pink flowers and a pair of strappy rose-gold sandals. The best part about the dress being the big pockets on either side.

  My hair had gotten a bit longer these days, and because it was such a warm day, I’d twisted it behind my head and clipped it, letting the stray hairs by my face fall to frame my cheeks. My hair stylist had dyed it a warm caramel with some vanilla blonde highlights and I was loving the new color.

  Coupled with a few bangle bracelets and my clutch, I was ready to go look for whoever killed Doug and Fallon—and make no mistake, I’m sure they’re one in the same.

  Bel whistled from his seat on the windowsill where he soaked in the late-afternoon sun. “Wow, Boss. You look beautiful!”

  I smiled at him. “Thanks, buddy. You okay here tonight on your own?”

  He flew to my shoulder and nuzzled my cheek. “I have plans with my girl. I’ll be just fine.”

  “Say hello to her for us, won’t you, Belfry? And do look in the fridge on the second shelf. There’s a charcuterie plate of sorts for the two of you to enjoy.”

  “But she eats bugs, Win. Bugs and beetles…”

  Win winked. “Indeed. This I know. I did a bit of research and went off to the pet store earlier this afternoon, where they sell all manner of proteins for snakes and such. ’Twas easy enough to grab a box of them for Minnie, should she visit. Those are in the pantry. Your fruits are in the fridge.”

  Bel lifted off my shoulder and flew to Win’s. “Awww. You did that for me, Winterbutt?”

  Win smiled his gracious smile. “After all you do for us? It was nothing, old friend.”

  “Thanks, International Man of Mystery,” Bel whispered. “You’re wearin’ on me.”

  Win laughed and held out his arm to me.

  My heart warmed in my chest. I loved that two of my favorite men in the world had bonded.

  “Dove, shall we? We don’t want to miss the nuptials, do we?”

  My stomach did a backflip. I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to possibly learn something that would help Cleo, but I wasn’t exactly looking forward to putting on a happy face when a killer was running around.

  Still, I smiled anyway, tucking against him. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The country club was beautiful as the day neared sunset. The lampposts were just turning on outside, each one of their lengths covered in a barbershop swirl of white and pale pink roses. They glowed, giving the horizon a soft amber hue.

  Expensive cars pulled up and valets opened doors for women dressed in gorgeous summery dresses. Perfume scented the air as we climbed the steps to the country club.

  When we entered the large foyer, we encountered more smartly dressed people mingling with cocktails in their hands and the lovely strains of a quartet of musicians playing softly in the background.

  “Now, isn’t that a sweet for your ears, Dove?” he asked, referring to the music with a tilt of his head.

  “Oh, okay, fine. A quartet it is. But I call DJ for the after-dinner party.”

  Win kissed the tip of my nose. “Deal.”

  I’m assuming the mother of the bride was the one dressed in a long gown of pale yellow, because she looked exactly like Tammy, but with lines on her face and small crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes.

  But wow, she was fit. Her arms were sculpted and her waist was cinched into a dress with an accordion skirt and form-fitting turtleneck top made of lace.

  She flitted from group to group, greeting people while her husband (I’m assuming it was her husband), a tall, snow-white-haired man with tautly stretched skin over his cheeks and blue eyes like Tammy’s, followed behind her.

  A flurry of activity and excited chatter swirled about as we wandered through the foyer. The doors to the dining area were shut, likely for a big reveal of the reception once the knot was tied.

  Baskets and vases of pink and white roses were everywhere, and battery-operated candles in every shape and size sat on tables and in corners of the room. The chandelier above our heads sparkled and the scent of lavender drifted through the air.

  “I wonder where the ceremony takes place?”

  “In the back under the gazebo on the golf course,” a vaguely familiar voice replied.

  I turned to find Linda Prince in a beautiful gown of pale blue organza. “Linda,” I acknowledged her, but without much excitement. I still hadn’t ruled her out as a suspect. “You look lovely.”

  She gave me a wan smile, tapping at the messy bun on top of her head. “If this rat’s nest can be called l
ovely, but it’s what the bride wanted. On the other hand, you look amazing. You’re a vision.”

  Forcing a smile, I asked, “Thank you. So how’s Tammy feeling?”

  I don’t know that I actually cared. I was still having a hard time with the idea Tammy was going through with this without her BFF. I’d never get married without Bel there, but everyone was different, I suppose. There were easily two hundred guests, many who’d probably flown in.

  I suppose canceling would be a huge mess. At least, that’s the story I was going with because it made me feel better.

  “Tammy’s had a bit of tummy upset today. Spent the better part of the early afternoon in the bathroom. Nerves, I guess. But crackers and some ginger ale and she’ll be good as new.”

  “And Leslie?”

  Linda rolled her eyes. “The worst, as always. Grumpy about wearing a dress, grumpier still about having hair and makeup, and grumpiest? That Cleo’s not here. By the way, Tammy told me she went to the police about what Les told us.”

  Oh, boy. “Does Leslie know Tammy spoke with the police?”

  She leaned into me as Leslie headed across the room, stomping her way through the crowd of people, and whispered, “Not yet. Tammy didn’t want to upset the apple cart any further. Aka, she didn’t want her big day any more ruined than it already is by murder and Cleo in jail.”

  “Meaning she’s not too terribly concerned at the idea there’s a killer on the loose and it could be Leslie?”

  Linda’s expression went from bland to confused. “Tammy said if Les did do it, she’s glad, but she doesn’t think she’d hurt one of us.”

  I looked at her and searched her eyes. “Only she might. Fallon Merriweather’s dead. Would she hurt her to keep from getting caught?”

  Maybe I was playing hardball, but this felt all wrong and I felt especially cranky. Plus, my feet and hands hurt.

  Linda’s eyes went surprised, but then she ignored my comment. “I heard you were injured, too. Are you okay today?” she asked, looking at the egg on my head I’d tried to hide with some wispy bangs.