by Demy Watts
“Oh, yes, of course.” Fern ran her hands down her apron, waiting for him to speak first.
“I take it that your aunt has told you about Sir Pince-Wittington’s sheep being poisoned?”
“Yes, she has. I’m very sad to hear that.”
“Hmmm. So you’re aware that Lady Cecily had called on Owen Gordon to come over and check on her husband’s diminishing flock?”
Fern nodded and he continued.
“Well, as you know, after the investigation was concluded, Owen ruled that the cause of death was poisoning from azalea shrubs.” He glanced over at her buckets of fresh flowers.
“I don’t know why anyone would do that, Constable Gordon. It must have been a horrible death for those poor sheep.”
“Yes, it certainly was. The Pince-Wittington’s don’t grow that shrub on their property…but we’re all aware that you stock the flowers. I can’t seem them though - are you out of stock?”
“Of course I stock them. I’m a florist. But if you’re implying that I had anything to do with-“
He held up his hand and Fern at once stopped talking.
“Miss Amesbury, please don’t put words into my mouth. I merely said that you have access to these shrubs.”
“So you’re saying I’m a suspect?”
“Well, it would appear that way, until we find the real culprit.”
“But I didn’t do it. I’ve no motive to kill Sir Pince-Wittington’s sheep!” Fern felt her eyes prickling with tears and she quickly blinked them away, willing herself to get a grip on her emotions. There was something about Willie Gordon’s attitude, which always made him seem suspicious towards the Amesbury women and she didn’t appreciate it.
“Let’s just calm down, Fern. I’d like to have a list of customers who have purchased azaleas over the past three months.”
“Of course, of course.” Fern took a deep breath as she tried to gather herself.
“Does anyone come to mind at the top of your head, who may have purchased these recently?” He opened his notebook, pen poised for action.
Fern knitted her eyebrows as she recollected her thoughts. If only he wasn’t staring at her so intently, she might have recited a quick memory spell.
“Let’s see. Farmer Jerry’s wife was in here last week and I seemed to recall her buying quite a few different plants. I’m pretty sure that azaleas were in the order too. Okay, who else?” She bit her lip trying to remember which of her customers may have purchased the plants. “Also, Martha from the Fishmongers commented on them, but I can’t seem to recall if she actually bought some – that was over two weeks ago. But, I don’t seem to recall anyone buying them in the last week or so…”
Willie frowned, seeming somewhat disappointed with her answer.
“I’m sorry, but a lot of the locals have bought the shrubs in the past, even before I took over the shop. I’d say almost everyone in Thackery has purchased azaleas at some stage.” She shrugged her shoulders, apologetically.
“I understand. Do you have any idea if anyone is growing these flowers in bulk in the village?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
Sighing, Willie closed his notebook and pen and put them away in his pocket.
“I must see your books too.”
“Yes, certainly. I’ll get them to you this afternoon.”
He nodded his head, seemingly satisfied. They spoke for another minute about the sheep.
“Good. I’ll be off now, but I’m sure I’ll be back with more questions for you another time. You’re not planning on going anywhere, are you, Miss Amesbury?”
“Not at all, Constable. I’ll be here.”
“Good morning to you, then.”
Fern gave him a small smile and watched as he swept his eyes over her flowers once more, before he departed the shop.
Slightly shaken at the gravity of the situation and having never been in this position before, Fern exhaled a loud breath and sank back onto her stool.
She decided she’d do some investigating of her own once she consulted her paperwork. Fern had put together plenty of orders in her time at The Magic Garden and the purchases were always recorded in her books.
She hoped she’d be able to be a lot more helpful to Willie Gordon the next time she saw him.
Chapter Three
Fern considered calling Zinnia to tell her about Willie’s visit, but she got distracted at the sight of a few wilting flower stems. That’d never do! All the flowers that came into the shop had a small spell placed upon them, which helped their colour to brighten as well as giving them a slightly longer life. However, once the extra life had expired, Zinnia had warned Fern from the outset, never to repeat the spell again. Bound by the natural laws, they respected and never broke the protocol.
Taking out the wilting stems, she softly muttered her incantation of gratitude and then disposed of them outside.
Once again she heard the front door bell and she popped her head out from the back, a wide smile forming when she saw the visitor.
“Alana! I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.” Fern stepped forward to greet her best friend.
Alana, looking windswept, tried to pat down her long blonde hair and adjusted her glasses.
“Morning. I thought I’d stop by and hang out with you for a while whilst I plan out my next few stories.” She grinned at Fern, lowering her laptop bag to the floor. “Ummmm, smells amazing in here today! Is that jasmine I’m detecting?”
Fern laughed. “It is indeed! You’re getting better at this each week.” She linked arms with her best friend and led her to the small seating area along the side of the shop. That was one of the first things Fern had installed when she re-designed the layout of the shop. Knowing that florists’ could get very busy during peak times, it was a nice area for customers to relax and drink the complimentary drinks on offer, whilst their orders were prepared.
“So, what’s going on?” Alana reached for two coffee mugs and poured them both a cup. She took a sip and inhaled deeply. “Mmmmm…you really have the best coffee in town!”
Fern smiled at the compliment, well aware that Alana knew about her magic coffee beans. Growing up together, Alana was loosely aware about Fern’s heritage but she was never privy to detail. Witches were bound by code and ethics, which included not sharing their wisdom with non-magical folk. Thankfully Alana kept her secret and also completely respected her place.
“Lots of things have been going on. But first, tell me what’s happening with you, I could use the distraction.”
Alana looked concerned, but knowing that Fern sometimes needed time to process things, the reporter in her held back from pushing her best friend.
“Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t stop in yesterday, but Stewart and I were deep in getting to the bottom of the strange incidents in town.”
Alana Mallory and Stewart Silversmith were the local television and radio reporters for the village of Thackery. They ran the only local evening news show together, where they concentrated on reporting crime.
The station where they worked together was in fact a public-access community project, which together, shared the building with the local public radio station. Alana and Stewart also did the morning news segment on the radio station. Unfortunately bigger news stations didn’t see the worth of having actual news in Thackery, with their proximity to bigger markets. Nonetheless, both Alana and Stewart did a fine job together of keeping the residents in the village up to date with everything.
“What happened yesterday?” Fern took a sip of her coffee as she waited for Alana’s response.
“Well, we finally discovered why the group of teenagers were acting strange in town over the weekend.”
“Ah, yes, I remember. Some of the older folk were quite scared.”
This past weekend, a group of local teenagers, displayed very odd behaviour in the middle of the day, on the high street. Shouting and pointing out objects, which weren’t to be seen, their strange act puzzled everyone,
until Willie was called in to send the boys home.
“You’ll never guess what it was?”
“Tell me!”
“So eventually, one of the younger boys, finally gave in and agreed to speak to Stewart about it. Incidentally - the boys have completely returned to their normal selves and are, justifiably, quite mortified at the scene they caused.”
“So, what was it?”
“He took Stewart out into the local forest, where they found…magic mushrooms!”
“What! Magic mushrooms?”
Alana grinned, shaking her head. “Yup. The boys thought they’d try them, not knowing what they were. By the time they walked back into town, the effects of the mushrooms had taken place. Can you believe it?”
Fern started to laugh. It was ridiculous!
“That’s crazy! But I guess it explains their hallucinations and why they were insisting on seeing things in the street, which weren’t there.”
“Exactly. Also, now that we’ve uncovered the cause, we’ve had to put a sign around the area warning people about them. Of course, we also need to report our findings on this evening’s news.”
They were quiet for a moment whilst they sipped on their coffee.
“How’s Stewart doing? I haven’t seen him for a couple of days now.”
Alana and Stewart were neighbours growing up, always in and out of trouble together – now they had their own press pass to justify it. The two of them provided an excellent source of information and gossip for Fern. Stewart however had no idea about Fern’s powers, having sworn Alana to secrecy.
“Stewart…is being Stewart.” Alana laughed off her comment. “You know what he’s like - always digging around, looking for a hint of a story.”
“He seeing anyone lately?”
Alana dismissed Fern’s question with a wave of her hand. “No, he’s still single. Tells me he’s too busy to worry about relationships.”
Fern smiled politely. Stewart was charming and attractive, yet she’d never seen him with a girlfriend. Whilst she had her suspicions about that, she was too polite to ask so she changed the subject.
“Anything else just as absurd as the mushrooms?”
Alana shook her head. “No, not as absurd, but did you hear about the altercation between Jim and Ben on Saturday night?”
Fern shook her head. “No, what happened?”
“Well, let’s just put it this way. Both men had a few pints too many. After the pub shut for the night, they began an argument – neither of which can remember about what it was about – but apparently it turned a bit nasty.”
“Oh no! What happened?”
“Apparently, Ben punched Jim in the nose.”
“Oh my goodness! Was Jim okay?” Fern’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Not really. According to Jim, he was lucky his nose wasn’t broken. Anyway, he’s now demanding a formal apology from Ben on the radio.”
“And is Ben going to do it?”
Alana nodded her head. “Yes, he’s agreed to it. He actually feels very bad over the incident and has already apologised several times.”
“Wow. Busy weekend in Thackery Village.”
Alana stood up to inspect some flowers and they spoke for a few minutes about other topics. Then Fern pulled out her books, in preparation for getting them in order for Willie later on.
“What’s that you’re doing with your invoice books?”
Fern pursed her lips, her brows drawing together.
“You’ll hear about this anyway, may as well come from me.”
Alana sat forward in her seat, and pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. She put down her pen.
“What’s going on, Fern?”
“Something terrible has happened and it seems like I’m also a suspect in the case.”
“What? Tell me everything.” Alana, now in full reporter mode, was shocked to hear the words spilling from her best friend’s mouth. She had known Fern for eight years and she had never even harmed a fly.
Fern set the books down and glanced at her friend who was looking very concerned.
“I’ll start at the beginning.”
“Good.”
“Early yesterday morning, Lady Cecily discovered that three of their prize-winning sheep were dead in the paddock, so she called in the new vet, Owen Gordon, to investigate.”
“Yes, I’ve met Owen. Nice guy…strange that he’s even related to Willie considering how different they are! Anyway, what did Owen conclude?”
“Well, after investigating, he said that the sheep had died of azalea poisoning.”
“Really? How did they eat the azalea?”
“That’s just it, we don’t know. But as I stock the shrub and flowers, I’m automatically a suspect.”
“Fern, that’s terrible. What are you going to do about it? How can I help?”
Fern offered her friend a small smile. “Thanks, Alana. I’m working on it. I need to give my books to Willie so we can see who’s ordered the plants, but there are so many customers who’ve had these before, it’s going to be a big job finding the culprit.” Fern sounded depressed at the thought. “In the meantime, the sheep have been taken to a different paddock and are under strict watch from what I understand.”
“You know who immediately springs to mind as a suspect, don’t you?”
“Who?”
“Matthew Barker.”
Matthew Barker, who was similar to age with Sir Chesterton, only a few years younger, was one of the local farmers. It was no secret that he was also Sir Chesterton’s primary critic and competition when it came to sheep-rearing. Matthew also appeared to have a chip on his shoulder regarding Sir Chesterton’s aristocratic background.
“I don’t think we should jump to conclusions, Alana, just because the two men don’t see eye to eye.”
Alana lent back in her seat and crossed her arms. “That’s true. But there is more to it than their husbandry rivalry.”
Fern interest was piqued and she raised an eyebrow.
“Such as?”
A smile appeared on Alana’s face. “Rumour has it that Matthew had a certain, how should I put it, tendresse, for Cecily in high school.”
Fern’s jaw dropped open. “No! Seriously?”
Alana nodded. “I don’t think he’s ever gotten over the fact that she chose and married Sir Chesterton instead.”
Fern shook her head. Alana really was a source of all gossip in the town. “Poor Matthew. Still, I guess he did eventually move on and marry Lucy, God rest her soul.”
Matthew’s wife, Lucy, had passed away in a car accident when their daughter, Angela, was eighteen.
“Yes, I suppose he did. But it doesn’t look good for him, does it? Has Angela been in recently?”
“No, I haven’t seen her for a while. She’s always so busy, wrapped up in farm life.”
“She’s the best farm worker Matthew’s got. At least she genuinely loves the farm and will be happy to inherit the business one day.”
A call to Alana’s mobile interrupted their conversation. She held up a finger whilst she answered.
Fern busied herself with a few tasks whilst Alana chattered away. A few minutes later, Alana hung up and quickly gathered her stuff together.
“Sorry, Fern, got to dash. Stewart just gave me a lead on another story I’m working on.” She stood up and gave Fern a departing hug. “Look, I promise I’ll keep my ear to the ground about this sheep poisoning – if Stewart or I get any inside information, we’ll pass it along to you.”
“Thanks, Alana. Please do. Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?”
Alana pulled her bag over her shoulder, and adjusted her glasses as she rushed for the door.
“Definitely. We’ll speak later.”
Fern spent the next hour going through the books and highlighting the customers in the past six months who had bought azaleas in their various forms from The Magic Garden. Satisfied she had identified everyone, she stepped outside the front for
some fresh air.
Glancing at the various flowers in their buckets and deep in thought, she almost jumped when she heard a deep voice coming from behind her. Spinning around, she came face to face with the most handsome man she’s ever seen in Thackery, who on first glance, appeared to be of similar age to her, if not a few years older. He stood in front of her with a warm smile.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Fern felt herself colour as she glanced down at his outstretched hand, waiting for her to shake it.
“Oh! I’m sorry.” She smiled and shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Fern. Can I help you?”
He gently released her hand and Fern noticed his pale blue eyes crinkling at the corners from his smile.
“No, you’re fine. I was just passing through and noticed the beautiful flowers you have. I’m Owen, by the way.”
Realisation quickly dawned upon her. “Oh, you’re the new vet! And Willie’s, er, I mean, Police Constable Willie’s, nephew.”
He grinned at her and Fern felt herself blushing harder for stumbling over her words.
“Yes, I am. I believe I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting your aunt Zinnia, but it’s lovely to meet the other Amesbury woman.”
Fern returned his grin. “There’s actually another one of us. My younger sister, Calla, but she’s currently travelling.”
“Well then, that’s just as well. I don’t think my heart could take seeing yet another beautiful Amesbury in two days.” He shot her a friendly wink and Fern knew that he was teasing, but she was at a loss to say anything clever in return.
“Anyway, Fern, it’s been lovely meeting you, but I must be on my way. One of farmer Jerry’s horses has gone into labour.”
“Okay, sure. Good luck! Hope everything works out with the horse. And nice to meet you too.” She watched as he walked past her, noticing his brown hair, which was just slightly too long over the collar of his shirt.
“I’ll see you around, Fern.” He turned back and smiled, leaving her with a grin on her face.
She decided that he was definitely much more amenable than his uncle!
Chapter Four
