Broomstick Blend

by Kennedy Layne

  Speaking of bells…

  “Hello,” Kathleen said with a tight smile, breezing past us to join Lydia on the other side of the table. She set down her purse that I was pretty sure was from the 1920s before telling Lydia that she could start closing up the shop. “Is everything okay? Did you find out something new after leaving Deidre’s house? I left her at home sleeping, although Becca and Claire are staying while I take care of things here. Laura drove to the funeral home to pick up some pamphlets for my sister to look at when she feels up to it later this evening. I couldn’t bring myself to do that, and I used the store as an excuse to leave for a while.”

  A few things struck me as odd, especially given that Deidre had all but asked Kathleen to see her guests out of the house. I would have, as well, if I’d thought my dead husband had been having an affair with one of my best friends. Also, why would Kathleen leave her sister to take a drive into Paramour Bay when Lydia was more than capable of taking care of things at the shop?

  Can we get back to the bell? This is serious business, Raven.

  “We’ll try not to keep you,” Liam responded, not too happy that Kathleen had dismissed her assistant. I was being pulled in two different directions, needing to focus on why my palm was warning me of something disastrous to come, as well as Leo’s new obsession with bells. “Lydia mentioned the estate sale you attended yesterday. Where did you say that auction took place?”

  “Branford,” Kathleen replied, reaching for a stack of mail that had been set aside next to the cash register. I noticed that Lydia was practically twirling the ring off of her finger, and she attempted to turn toward the back room. “I drove straight to Deidre’s house after hearing what happened to Pat. It wasn’t until late last night that I was able to speak with Detective Swanson.”

  “Lydia, what website did you use to search for information on the broomstick?” I asked, wanting to help Liam out by keeping everyone in one area. It also wouldn’t hurt to retain that bit of information for a later date. Myths and legends usually started out from a source. In this case, my mother, but it would be interesting to see if there was anything else listed that I might need to know about down the line. “Maybe somewhere on that site it can explain the list of material components Sheriff O’Leary had with him when he visited that day.”

  Lydia rattled off a website that I’d never heard of, but I could literally sense the tension coming off of Liam’s body as he stood next to me in front of the table. What had I missed? Silence began to fill the shop, and not the comfortable kind. I’d been studying the various incantations in the family grimoire, but none of the spells sprang to mind in order to figure out when this visit had taken a turn for the worse.

  No spells are springing forth, but the bells might be ringing soon. Let me put it to you this way, Raven—you need to solve the case quickly so we can focus on more important things in this shop of horrors.

  Leo definitely had a clear mind. Whatever he’d discovered on the other side of the shop had to be a doozy, but at least he’d tipped me off in that whatever it was he was seeing had nothing to do with Sheriff O’Leary’s murder. That left me little choice but to try and figure out why the tension around us was thick enough to cut with a knife.

  Oh, trust me. A knife is the least of our worries.

  Kathleen set the unopened stack of mail back in a spot next to the cash register. She was acting no differently than she had at Deidre’s house, yet there had been an energy shift ever since she’d found us speaking with her assistant. It was clear that Kathleen was giving subtle hints that it was time to close up so she could finish what she’d come to do in order to get back to her sister.

  Leo’s odd quips coming from the other side of the shop were giving me heart palpitations. What could be more important than solving a murder mystery?

  One where we might be the next victims.

  “Branford?” Liam asked, repeating the town’s name where Kathleen had stated she’d been when Sheriff O’Leary had visited the shop. I was torn on whether or not to stay by Liam’s side or rush to see what Leo had found amongst the inventory that could be so dangerous. “Lydia, didn’t you tell Detective Swanson that Kathleen was in Stony Creek?”

  The palm of my hand began to harness energy, warning me that Liam’s prodding question had just opened up the floodgates on two possible suspects. Neither Kathleen nor Lydia had motive that I was aware of, but Liam had just caught them skirting the truth.

  Just where had Kathleen been the day of Sheriff O’Leary’s murder?

  I have no idea, but I know what might have been in this shop. Can you interrupt your conversation and ask either of these horrible fibbers if they’ve heard any bells ringing lately?

  Kathleen had been reaching for her purse, but her hand stopped midway upon hearing Liam’s direct question to Lydia. It was clear she was doing her best to come up with a reason that would have both she and her assistant coming out of this questioning intact. Were they indeed the guilty parties? If so, why? I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Kathleen or Lydia had the wherewithal to take another person’s life.

  “Kathleen, maybe we should—”

  “Deidre was napping when I left, and I’d really like to be back at the house before she awakens,” Kathleen said, intentionally interrupting Lydia. Had she been going to explain their odd behavior and the fact that their statements weren’t exactly matching up in the grand scheme of things? What caught me off guard were the tears in Kathleen’s eyes, though she bowed her head as she grabbed her purse. Her resolve to hide her grief or remorse was too late. Killers usually didn’t feel remorse, though, did they? I snuck a glance at Liam, and it was clear that he was weighing on whether or not to allow Kathleen to leave the shop with this hiccup in their story. “Could we maybe finish this up tomorrow?”

  Kathleen had already lifted her purse off the table, completely focused on leaving the shop before anyone said another word, particularly her assistant. I had a solution to prevent her exit.

  Sweet angel of mercy, don’t you dare—

  I released the pent-up energy that had harnessed in the palm of my hand, sending what wasn’t weighted down on the table flying into the air. The flyers, mail, and business cards whooshed away before anyone could react, eventually landing on the greyish hardwood floor.

  No one ever seemed to question when odd things like that happened, chalking it up to either a door being opened or maybe the air conditioning acting a bit wonky. People usually just immediately sprang into action to clean up the mess.

  Raven, let me remind you that we are in a shop with genuine items that descended from our ancestors. Utilizing magic around them isn’t the brightest idea, if you get my drift. Oy, vey!

  “I’ll get it,” Liam reassured Kathleen, who had already knelt down in her black dress to try and gather up the mess of scattered papers now on the floor. He even put a reassuring hand over hers when we could both see her trembling, though the sideways look he gave me all but shouted his guess that I had something to do with the gust of wind. “Let me get this.”

  While the good ol’ sheriff cleans up your mess, I’ll stand guard. I won’t move from this spot, just in case that bell rings.

  Leo was still harping on that bell, not that I had any idea why he was so concerned about an object that every shop owner had above their door. Maybe that antihistamine had affected him more than I thought, but now seemed the perfect time for Liam and me to push Kathleen and Lydia a bit more in hopes of them finally telling us the truth.

  Kathleen was in the midst of standing up somewhat shakily, giving Lydia time to whisper something frantically into her ear. The shop owner shook her head furiously, but she was unable to keep her tears at bay.

  “Kathleen, you weren’t at any estate auction yesterday, were you?” I asked as softly as I could, causing both women to stare at me in alarm. “You need to tell Liam what happened so that he can give your sister the closure she needs. Whatever it is that happened, Liam can help you r
esolve the issue.”

  I wish you’d come over here and help me. Are you hearing any ringing? Anything at all? I’ve been staring at this bell for so long that my ears are picking up the slightest sounds. Not that I’m a dog or anything. What were the side effects of that horse pill again?

  Kathleen began to crumble right before our very eyes. It was as if she’d lost all strength after her mistake had been unmasked. She covered her face with both hands, leaving Lydia to wrap one arm around the older woman’s shoulder in support. Liam stood from where he’d gathered most of the papers, observing the two women in front of him very carefully. I could sense the moment he’d made a choice on how to approach this situation.

  “It wasn’t our fault, Kathleen,” Lydia whispered, appearing quite relieved that they were about to lift the weight of guilt off their shoulders. “It was all a big mistake. We need to tell them what happened and why we didn’t come forward.”

  “I can’t,” Kathleen practically bewailed while continually shaking her head in denial. “I need to go take care of my sister.”

  “Kathleen, you know I can’t let you do that,” Liam said with full authority while still maintaining a kind tone that would hopefully give Kathleen some hope that telling the truth was the right thing to do. “It’s clear you have information that can help us solve what happened to Sheriff O’Leary. The autopsy report is due back to Detective Swanson either today or tomorrow. It would be better for you to come clean now rather than later.”

  “Kathleen didn’t intentionally hurt Pat,” Lydia exclaimed, all but rushing her words together. “Neither did I. You have to believe us, Liam.”

  “Tell me everything, and I’ll do what I can to help.” Liam picked up two antique chairs that were off to the side, ushering the two women onto the fabric cushions so that they’d be more comfortable. His compassion was evident, even though there was a strong chance whatever happened in this shop was the cause of Sheriff O’Leary’s death. “We’ll call Detective Swanson afterward, and I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  It’s nice to know that the good ol’ sheriff stands by his residents when the going gets tough. We might need his help one day, especially if this bell begins to ring out of the blue. Remind me to stash some extra catnip for when that time comes. Oh, and remember to see if that horse pill comes in a liquid form. I wouldn’t mind sleeping through the apocalypse.

  I had a feeling that Leo wasn’t talking about the squirrel apocalypse, but I could only deal with one situation at a time. Liam and I stood side by side while Lydia began to walk us through what happened on the day in question.

  “Deidre had been upset for months that Pat might be having an affair with Becca Wilson. It was all she could talk about, but she refused to confront her husband or her friend,” Lydia said, keeping hold of Kathleen’s hand while she tried to compose herself. “You see, we had received a book on herbs and plants that contained healing properties. It mentioned that licorice oil can serve as a truth serum of sorts, so Kathleen thought she’d try it.”

  Hey, I see the book she’s talking about on a table back here. You should buy it. As a matter of fact, do you have your credit card? We need to buy all of this stuff. They have no idea what they’ve brought into their shop, and I need my beauty sleep. I can’t be up all night worrying who might get their hands on some of these objects. Ohhhhh boy, I feel an asthma attack coming on.

  Considering the antihistamine would most likely prevent an asthma attack, I wasn’t too worried about Leo. He seemed to have things under control on the other side of the shop, and the parts of this puzzle were finally falling into place.

  “Kathleen, did you put licorice oil into Sheriff O’Leary’s tea or coffee?” I asked, hoping that wasn’t the case.

  There was a reason I listed ingredients on all tea blends in my shop, especially after having given some out as gifts at Christmas time, only to find out that Monty had a peanut allergy. In my case, I was very lucky that Monty had an epi-pen on him at the time he’d decided to drink his favorite beverage.

  I’d rather take a liquid. I don’t do needles. You know, they also have a cream you can rub on the inside of my ear for anxiety. I wonder if it comes in an edible form laced with catnip. We should ask Dr. Jameson about that the next time we see him. I could really use something like that today.

  Liam and I were still waiting for Kathleen to answer the question on whether or not she’d put a few drops of licorice oil into Sheriff O’Leary’s tea or coffee. She was still crying, so Lydia answered for her.

  “It was just a few drops,” Lydia defended, grabbing hold of Kathleen’s hand. “I was the one who read up on the different properties of plants and herbs. Kathleen bought some at some health food store and was going to take it to Deidre’s house, but Pat showed up here. It was the perfect opportunity to find out if he was having an affair. We didn’t want to say anything, because we had no idea if it was the licorice oil that was responsible for Pat’s death. We still don’t know if that’s the case. Why get Deidre all upset for not reason? We wanted to wait for the autopsy report before saying a word of this to anyone. Someone else could have given Pat something to cause his death. After all, he was the sheriff. For all we know, maybe Deputy Wilson did find out about the affair and took matters into his own hands. We just didn’t want to complicate things further.”

  I often wonder about delusional people, especially those that reside in Paramour Bay. They put drops of an herbal oil into someone’s drink moments before he dropped dead in the middle of town square…and they think someone else might have poisoned the dead sheriff?

  I also believed Kathleen and Lydia were both in denial that they played a part in a man’s death, however unintentional. Who could blame them? I recall how I felt with the whole Monty situation. Luckily, he’d come out of it just fine. I couldn’t imagine the guilt if something worse had happened to him.

  “Did Sheriff O’Leary show any signs of being ill before he left the shop?” Liam asked, clarifying the details on the last few minutes of the man’s death. “Was he having trouble breathing? Itching his skin? Grasping at his throat?”

  Hey, that sounds like me earlier today. Go figure. While we’re on the subject of side effects, I’m starting to see double. That might be because I haven’t taken my attention off this bell or blinked in the last ten minutes, but I thought I’d ask just in case.

  “Pat did begin to rub his chest, but I thought it was due to his heartburn,” Kathleen finally managed to say, having finally gotten her emotions under control. “Like Lydia said, we were going to wait for the autopsy report before we said anything about the licorice oil. I didn’t want my sister finding out that I’d tried to trick her husband into admitting his infidelity.”

  “By chance, did Sheriff O’Leary confess to the affair?” Liam asked, most likely just in case the licorice oil had nothing to do with the man’s death.

  “No, he didn’t,” Kathleen murmured, looking down at her hands in shame. “All Pat talked about while he was here was how much he loved Deidre. What if I am responsible for his death?”

  Almost as if in response to Kathleen’s question, Liam’s phone chimed with an incoming call. A quick look over his shoulder revealed that Jack was calling, and most likely with the results of the autopsy. We were about to find out the cause of Sheriff O’Leary’s death.

  I feel like there should be a drumroll inserted here, but I’m too worried about this bell going off. Raven, have we ever discussed cesaral spirit bells? If not, you should know that we’re going to cover them in your next lesson. Who would have thought you’d get a hands-on tutorial from our local antique shop?

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Well?” I asked in anticipation after Liam had disconnected the call with Jack. I couldn’t imagine being in Kathleen and Lydia’s shoes. “What did the autopsy report say?”

  The way Liam set his comforting gaze on the two women said it all. I realized that we never had a true murder mystery on our hands. I
t had all been a tragic accident.

  Liam’s call with Jack had lasted all but two or three minutes. I’d done my best to keep Kathleen and Lydia’s minds off the outcome. During our brief discussion, I’d found that Sheriff O’Leary had not only declared his love for Deidre, but that he’d been planning a surprise trip for their anniversary. It was very sad to know that he’d never get to finish seeing such a touching gift through to the end.

  I’m hoping I get to take a trip soon. Honduras or New Zealand would be nice. I hear the plantation tours are wonderful. The stress of this bell is going to cause me more fur loss, and I can’t afford to lose any more tufts.

  “I really wish I could tell you a different outcome, but Sheriff O’Leary passed away from a severe allergic reaction to licorice oil,” Liam shared grimly with the two ladies in a consoling tone. Kathleen broke down once again, while Lydia seemed to be in shock. “Detective Swanson should be here soon. He’ll want to question the two of you again. Tell him nothing but the truth this time. You couldn’t have known that Sheriff O’Leary was allergic to licorice oil. It was an unfortunate incident. You had no intent to do harm. However, it did result in his death and a prosecutor will have to make the final determination.”

  “How am I going to explain to my sister that I accidentally killed her husband?” Kathleen cried out, the usually composed woman now a complete wreck. “I’m a murderer!”

  She said it, not me.

  Lydia continued to reassure Kathleen that she was not a murderer, most likely attempting to convince herself. Kathleen was a caring woman who had wanted to protect her sister by seeking out answers in an unorthodox manner.

  Would Deidre be so understanding?

  “Liam,” I whispered softly, tugging on his arm so that we could step to the side. I didn’t want the two ladies to overhear us. “Will Jack arrest them? They didn’t mean to kill Sheriff O’Leary.”