Anna Denning Mystery Series Box Set: Books 1–3

by Karin Kaufman

  “Yup.”

  “I’ll have some more coffee,” Tom said to the waitress. “Something for you, Anna?”

  “Mineral water, no ice, and a croissant, please.” She was dying for more but she wasn’t going to eat a full meal while talking to Tom. She wasn’t even sure she was going to stay. But he was paying, so she’d get something out of it.

  “Did you want something else?” Tom asked as the waitress walked away. “A sandwich or something?”

  “No. What did you want to talk to me about?”

  He settled back into his seat then leaned forward to grab hold of a small, plastic table display holding the dessert menu. “I wanted to apologize,” he said, juggling the menu hand to hand like a baseball.

  “For what you told people about my business?”

  “Not people, just one person.” He let go of the menu and looked up at her. “Just Gene Westfall. I haven’t told anyone else.”

  Anna figured Detective Schaeffer had talked with Tom. There was no way the councilman would be that apologetic on his own. “So why did you tell Gene?”

  “I was angry.”

  “You can’t believe I killed your wife.”

  The waitress placed a bottle of mineral water and croissant on a plate in front of Anna and refilled Tom’s coffee. He mumbled his thanks and waited until she was out of earshot before continuing. “When you said you were delivering Susan’s genealogy, I thought you were in on it. It wasn’t supposed to be delivered, especially to my house. Susan wasn’t supposed to know anything about it.”

  Anna took a sip of mineral water, watching Tom as he talked, not wanting to do or say anything to interrupt him.

  “I had an agreement with Darlene,” he continued. “I give her the names, period. That’s my end of the deal. But then she sent you to my house. I should have known she wouldn’t hold up her end. And Susan used to wonder why I didn’t want her near that store.”

  Anna was beginning to understand what the agreement was all about. She decided to take a shot at it, to see if Tom confirmed her suspicions. “So you supply Darlene with the names of Susan’s parents, I do the research, and Darlene, who can now tell her coven she looked into Susan’s bona fides as a witch, vetoes Susan’s membership.”

  Tom leaned back in his seat, bewildered. “You are in on it.”

  Anna stared back at him before she replied. “I’m not in on anything. I was hired by Darlene through Jazmin to do what I thought was a simple family tree. I was only guessing about the reason for hiring me, but now you’ve confirmed it. What I want to know is why you and Darlene are still in my life.”

  “No.” He wagged a finger. “All I wanted was to keep Susan out of this ridiculous coven. You weren’t supposed to be involved in this.”

  “The day Jazmin hired me, I became involved.” She paused to take a small bite of the croissant. Her stomach was doing flip-flops. She could still see Darlene holding a black mirror, a sweet, sickly smile on her lips. “And why didn’t Darlene hire me herself? Why involve Jazmin?”

  Tom snorted. “In politics we call it plausible deniability. Darlene never does anything for herself that she can get someone else to do. The way she set things up, she could deny her part in this altogether. Unless her employees talk.”

  “She didn’t mind letting me know she was involved in some way.”

  “That’s because you got on her nerves.”

  “How?”

  “After the council meeting, talking about Christmas, asking her questions about her appointment as liaison to the committee, talking to Jazmin.”

  “You heard about that?”

  Tom reached for the plastic display again. “I hear things.”

  Anna took another bite of croissant and sip of water. So Tom was still talking to Darlene. Maybe still making plans with her. Either that or Darlene was keeping Tom informed whether or not he wanted to be. Every time he mentioned Darlene he twitched, looked away, or played with the menu. He didn’t like the woman. He didn’t trust her.

  “Why make a deal with Darlene?” Anna asked. “Why not tell Susan you didn’t want her in the coven?”

  “I couldn’t talk Susan out of it. She said the coven was her heritage and I had no right to keep her from it. I knew she had this witch stuff in her background when I married her, but she wasn’t serious about it back then. Then Darlene’s store opened and Darlene started sending out feelers for more witches for her coven. Susan was a shoo-in with her history.”

  He dropped the plastic menu. Anna reached for it and placed it out of his reach.

  “And you couldn’t have your wife in a coven. You’re on the town council, the governor’s committee.”

  “What kind of political future would I have with a witch for a wife? A known, practicing witch. Can you imagine if the governor found out? Susan should have been working with me, not against me.” His voice rose in pitch, taking on a petulant, offended tone. “Yeah, I know, there are worse things in a political career, but why should I put up with anything that could destroy what I’ve worked so hard for? She would have been in and out of that store, going to coven meetings, casting spells.”

  “Still. Going behind her back.”

  “All I could do was keep her out of the coven. That was my only option. I wanted to give Darlene fake names, so it looked like Susan was lying about her ancestry, but Darlene said no, she could get the same results with the real names. She said, ‘Don’t fake it, keep it simple, stupid.’”

  Anna turned to gaze out the window as a white SUV pull into the parking lot below. Four women exited, chattering as they walked to the entrance. It occurred to Anna that there was no grief in Tom’s voice. Nothing but irritation and fear. Susan had suffered an agonizing death but he was still annoyed with her. Not angry, as though he was using anger to displace his pain, but annoyed. She was still causing him trouble, hobbling his career.

  “It was all I could do,” Tom said again. “What was I supposed to do?”

  Anna looked back at him. “If Susan had witches in her family tree, how could Darlene get away with keeping her out of the coven?”

  “Because it’s Darlene’s coven. She can do what she wants. Susan was going to be denied entrance, period, and she was never going to know the reason. But Darlene would have cover. See? She could say she hired a genealogist—probably even show them the bill you gave Jazmin—and her coven would believe her. They’d never believe she’d reject a real witch.”

  Anna turned it over in her mind. It still made no sense. “Why wouldn’t Darlene want to use fake names in place of the real names of Susan’s parents? With fake names she could have tangible proof for the coven—the phony family tree.”

  “Because someone would figure out they were fake names. It’s a small town. Susan’s parents might come to visit, somebody might talk to somebody who knows somebody.” Tom lifted a shoulder. “It was a perfect plan until Darlene screwed it up.”

  “But why would she do that?”

  “To make sure I kept my part of the bargain and to show me she could ruin me at any time. That’s Darlene to the core.”

  Anna absentmindedly fingered her bottle of water. Tom’s recitation of the facts was answering some questions but raising more. He was holding back, she knew it. But why was he telling her anything at all? Was he getting back at Darlene? Covering for himself?

  “Your appointing Darlene as liaison to the governor’s committee was the quid pro quo in this perfect plan?” she asked.

  “You can’t repeat this, and I’ll deny it if you do.” Tom was adamant, his voice firm. “We haven’t spoken about this, understand?”

  He waited until Anna nodded her agreement.

  “This was the plan,” he continued. “Darlene hires a genealogist so she can tell her coven she did things right. She loses a fairly well-to-do coven member but gains a foothold in the political world, benefiting her store. Darlene is power hungry, a bottomless pit . . .” Tom cast his eyes about the dining room, his voice trailing off, swa
llowed in the clatter of forks on dishes and the hum of conversation.

  Anna watched him. She said nothing. She took a bite of croissant and chewed slowly, prolonging his discomfort. As if the councilman wasn’t power hungry himself, she mused.

  Tom cleared his throat and looked back to Anna.

  “Do you think Darlene had something to do with Susan’s death?” she asked.

  He stared hard at Anna, the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching. “She might have.”

  Anna pushed her croissant plate out of the way, laced her fingers, and lowered her hands to the table. “Is that why you’re telling me all this? You should be talking to Detective Schaeffer, not me. Or are you hoping I’ll go to the police for you so you can keep pretending you’re not involved?”

  “I’m not involved,” he hissed. “All I did was try to keep my wife out of a coven, for her sake and mine. I don’t know who killed Susan or why. I’m only saying Darlene’s capable of it.”

  Anna knew there was a lot Tom wasn’t telling her. “Aren’t you worried I’ll tell Schaeffer about your deal with Darlene?”

  “No,” he said coldly.

  “After Darlene broke your deal by having Jazmin send me to your house, why did you still name her liaison?”

  “Are you kidding? If I hadn’t, imagine what she would have done. She could’ve ruined my career. She still could.”

  “If she still could ruin your career, why not name someone else and at least keep the town council happy?”

  “Like I said, she could ruin me.”

  Now Tom was just repeating himself, Anna thought, hoping the same words, repeated often enough, would answer her questions. “Come on, why follow through on your end of the deal if she didn’t?”

  Tom struck the table with the palm of his hand, startling Anna and a couple in the table nearest the booth. “No more.” He looked around, embarrassed by the force of his own reaction. “I’m not answering any more of your questions,” he said quietly. “I’ve apologized.”

  “Your apology means nothing without answers. You owe me answers. Why follow through—”

  Tom threw up his hands and Anna stopped talking. “Yes, she broke our deal, and yes, she could come after me, even now, and destroy my career, but if I hadn’t followed through, there’s no telling what she would have done. Look what she did to me just for fun, when I did everything she asked me to do.” He heaved a sigh and contemplated Anna with a mixture of pity and distaste. “My God, you’re naive. You just keep blundering ahead, stepping in it. Don’t you understand I’m trying to warn you because I’m sorry you got involved in this? What’s it going to take?”

  “A lot more than that.”

  “Just leave it alone. I’m going to tell Westfall I was wrong, you’re not in legal trouble and your license is valid. But I’m telling you, leave it alone.” He made a brisk motion with his open palm, like an orchestra’s director silencing the music.

  “There’s something you don’t understand, Tom. It’s Darlene who won’t leave it alone.” Anna reached for her mineral water.

  “You’re a stubborn fool. This will all blow over if you just lie low for a couple days.”

  Anna swallowed hard. “Lie low? This is my life we’re talking about. I was going about my own business when you, Darlene, and Jazmin dragged me into this mess. And Darlene keeps dragging me in.”

  She told Tom about the text messages Jazmin, Rowan, and Jason sent to Liz’s cell phone and the athame Darlene reported stolen. “Darlene’s not interested in leaving me alone, and until she backs off, I’m not backing off.”

  “Don’t, Anna. She’s a cat playing with a mouse.” Tom fixed his eyes on hers, imploring. It was the first time he’d looked at her without a measure of contempt. “Forget about it, leave it alone. Leave her alone. It’s not worth it.”

  “My ability to make a living is worth a lot. What if I’d left it alone after you talked to Gene Westfall and word had spread that—”

  “I know.” Tom’s focus shifted to a spot in the restaurant behind her.

  “Listen, Tom—”

  He silenced her with a raised hand.

  Anna glared at him. Again with the hand. She peered over her shoulder, following his gaze, and saw a waitress lead half a dozen people in the direction of a large table on the opposite side of the restaurant. “You’re afraid of Darlene, aren’t you?” she said to Tom without looking at him.

  At the back of the small group were Monica and Jason Fisk. Jason held out a chair for Monica. She sat, removed her coat, and slung it over the back of the chair. Seated next to her was Brenda Boyer, the woman who had read Tom’s announcement at the council meeting. Brenda took a menu from the waitress and chatted with Monica.

  Tom was surveying the group, his brow knit in agitation, when Anna looked back at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “It’s nearly three o’clock,” Tom said. He turned toward Anna, first with his chin, then with his eyes. “They don’t have lunch at three. What did I tell you about Darlene?”

  “I’m having lunch at three.”

  “She can control people.”

  Anna rolled her eyes. She was fed up with hearing about Darlene and her power, grown men and women cowering at the mention of the woman’s name. “You’re giving her way too much credit.”

  “Really? Darlene told me she gave Jazmin a couple of photos to give to you. Have you looked at them closely? They were for you, not me. Darlene knew you’d be curious enough to examine the addresses.”

  Anna took another bite of croissant and answered with a full mouth. “Yes, I know. Charles Walton and the witch murder. But even Darlene wouldn’t come after me with a pitchfork.”

  Tom’s face hardened. “A woman like Darlene doesn’t warn you more than once. I never used to believe in witchcraft, but I do now. She doesn’t need a pitchfork. Leave her alone, starting now, and maybe she’ll leave you alone.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mocking her is the worst thing you can do. In her mind it’s unforgivable.”

  “Fun, though.” Anna polished off the rest of her croissant and rubbed her fingers on her napkin. Tom seemed to have as much a stake as Darlene in getting her to stop asking questions.

  “You don’t believe she’d hurt you,” he said. “Look what happened to Susan, and all she wanted to do was be in her coven. She wasn’t Darlene’s enemy.” He stared down at his hands.

  “You should talk to the police.”

  “She was poisoned by a yew tree.”

  “Have you told them about Darlene?”

  “Susan died because she ate cake with yew in it. She saw a card that said ‘Blessed be,’ and that was all she needed. She ate the cake. It must have tasted like hell, but she ate all of it. Her damn fixation on this coven.”

  There was still no trace of sadness in Tom’s face. Anna guessed he was used to swaying people with his arguments. Susan had done something stupid. She’d let him down, not listened to him. She must have frustrated him with her insistence on joining the coven despite his budding political career.

  “Beside the fact that ‘Blessed be’ was on the card,” Anna said, “what makes you think Darlene had something to do with poisoning Susan?”

  “No more questions.” He rapped his knuckles on the table, like a judge banging a gavel, settling the matter.

  Anna waited. “What do you mean no more questions?”

  “Just—” He looked up at Monica, startled by her insolent appearance at his table.

  “Hi, Anna,” she said with a smile. She addressed Tom. “I was so sorry to hear about your wife. It must be even more difficult so close to Christmas.”

  “Yes it is,” Tom said. “What are you doing with Brenda Boyer?”

  Monica tilted her head, as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Brenda? We’re eating lunch.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “I don’t, my husband does.”

  “Then how does he know her?”

  “Why d
on’t you ask him?” Monica’s expression was changing from puzzlement to aggravation. She raised a hand and brushed at stray hairs falling across her cheek. There were small scratches on her fingers, and her nails were rough and cracked. She’d been working on smudge sticks. Anna wondered again why Monica and Jason didn’t sell their own on the Internet. They could probably make double what they were making now.

  Tom sniffed and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

  “Just thought I’d say hello,” Monica said. “Nice to see you again, Anna.” She gave Anna a quick smile and tossed a look at Tom before she walked back to her table.

  Anna opened the zipper on her purse and poked around inside for her change purse. It baffled her that a politician couldn’t at least fake common courtesy for his career’s sake. But she’d gotten some of what she came for and it was time to buy office supplies then get home and get some work done before Liz stopped by. With all the craziness surrounding the Muncy genealogy, she’d fallen behind in her work for other clients, and she couldn’t afford that.

  “I’ve got it,” Tom said. “I’m adding some for your poster too.”

  “All right.” She wasn’t going to argue with him. She didn’t want to owe him anything, even something as small as a snack, but the truth was he owed her, and the least he could do was pay for her croissant and ruined poster. “And Tom, no more lies about me or my business. Next time I’ll pursue action.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been warned. Twice before.” He stood and dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “This makes three times.”

  15

  Anna hit the garage door remote on the Jimmy’s visor. More snow had fallen on her driveway since Dan had shoveled it that morning, and falling snow glistened in the cones of light formed by the floodlights above the garage door.

  The snow was light and dry but relentless, gradually adding inch on inch. She pulled into the garage, hit the remote again, and headed for the door that led to the kitchen. The shopping bags could wait. Jackson had been alone for more than six hours and needed to go outside.

  The instant she opened the inside garage door she knew something was wrong. Jackson always met her at the kitchen door when he heard the garage open. He wasn’t at her feet. He was nowhere in the kitchen or in the living room beyond.