Lipstick on a Pig (A Paranormal Cozy Mystery) (Willow Bay Witches Book 4)

by Samantha Silver

  “Oh good, I’m glad to see you’re not going around trying to solve this murder too.”

  “Definitely, wouldn’t even dream of it,” I lied. I hung up the phone, and on the drive home started thinking about how we could possibly get as much information about Jessica Oliver as we could from her workplace. Charlotte was tackling the friend, so Sophie and I had to figure out a way to make this work.

  Chapter 6

  Two hours later, Sophie and I were covered in mud, I could feel a migraine coming on, but all the animals had been delivered back to Joe’s farm. I managed to ask the animals a few more questions, and even got some halfway coherent replies back, but it seemed all of the animals had well and truly been asleep when the murder took place, except for that one rooster who insisted there was a man hanging around the tent that night before the body had been placed there.

  I did learn, however, that Jessica Oliver had been killed elsewhere, and her body had simply been dumped in the petting zoo, confirming Charlotte’s suspicions. One of the goats told me he’d overheard the medical examiner telling one of the policemen that fact. My blood went cold. I strongly hoped it wasn’t an attempt to frame me for the crime after what had happened the day before; I’d had enough of being accused of murder after Chief Hawthorne had considered me a suspect in the murder of Caroline Gibson a couple of months earlier.

  Luckily, I knew Chief Gary wouldn’t consider me a suspect in this crime; he knew me too well. I didn’t have the greatest alibi though. I wasn’t sure when the woman had been killed, but I had a sneaking suspicion I was probably fast asleep when it happened.

  Pretty quickly, my mind turned to ways we could get information from Jessica Oliver’s coworkers about who might have wanted her dead. With Charlotte talking to her friend, that left Sophie and I to try to get some amazing information off her coworkers. After all, it might not have openly been a competition, but Sophie and I were naturally incredibly competitive, and as far as we were concerned, if Charlotte came back with better information than us, we had failed.

  I spent the evening half-heartedly watching old episodes of Parks and Recreation on TV with Sophie while Charlotte stayed in her room and studied. My mind was elsewhere though. How on earth were we going to get all the gossip?

  Finally, after giving up on a solution and going to bed, with my mind in that little moment between conscious and unconsciousness, my brain came up with the perfect plan. I just hoped I could remember it in the morning.

  * * *

  “So what are we going to do?” Sophie asked as we drove toward Portland early the next morning.

  “Why is it up to me to come up with a plan?” I asked.

  “Because you’re the witch. You have like, a thousand more powers than I do. Which is so unfair, by the way.”

  “Just because I’m a witch doesn’t mean I can magically come up with a plan.”

  “Well it should. But fine. So we don’t have a plan?”

  “Oh, no, I have a plan.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say that first?”

  “Just because I have a plan doesn’t mean I should always be the one coming up with them.”

  “Oh my God! You’re impossible. Fine. What’s your plan?”

  “I’m not telling you now.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “You’re like, five years old.”

  “Five year olds can’t drive a car.”

  “Mentally, Angie. You are mentally five years old.”

  “And yet I still came up with a plan and you didn’t.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “I hate you so much,” she muttered, and I grinned.

  “But trust me,” I said. “My plan is awesome.”

  Once again we parked in a lot near Jessica Oliver’s place of work, and made our way to the building housing the offices of Forrester, Forrester and Cork. When we walked in, Sophie headed toward the elevators, but I stopped her. “No, we have to go this way.”

  “Maybe I would have known that if I knew what we were doing,” Sophie grumbled. I rolled my eyes and explained to her my plan.

  “Fine. We’re going to wait in the stairwell for people going up to the offices. When they do, I’m going to put them under a sleeping spell, then I’m going to transform us into them. We’re going to pretend to be them for a few hours, then we’ll come back here, wake them back up and no one will ever know anything happened.”

  “Wait, seriously, that’s your plan?” Sophie asked, and I nodded as we headed into the stairwell. The stairwell was the same as in a million other different office buildings: ugly beige color, cement, with a thick door and that musty smell that came from no one ever taking the stairs anywhere. Luckily, behind the ground floor stairs was a little enclave that led to a closet we could use for most of the magic.

  “That’s both kind of genius, but also just such a bad idea. There are so many things that can go wrong with that plan, I don’t even know where to start.”

  Before Sophie got a chance to start, however, there was a commotion near the door. I grabbed Sophie and pulled her behind the stairs; there was no way the people we were going to impersonate could know we were here. I put a finger to my lips, and Sophie understood. Peeking around the corner, I saw a woman wearing a Forrester, Forrester and Cork polo shirt carrying a tote bag.

  “Somnuroa,” I muttered quietly, pointing to the woman and focusing all of my energy on her. I felt a streak of energy coursing through me, exiting my finger and heading straight toward the woman. Instantly she began to fall backward. I ran and caught her, incredibly thankful that she was light.

  “Come help me,” I hissed at Sophie, who ran out and helped me drag her back and into the closet. If anyone came in now, we were going to have a lot of explaining to do.

  “I still can’t believe this is your plan,” Sophie hissed.

  “Well there isn’t much we can do about it now, is there?” I replied. “Plus, it’s not like you’ve got a better idea.”

  “Fine,” Sophie finally relented.

  “Recludaro,” I whispered at the closet lock quietly, pointing my finger at it. The burst of energy flowed from me once more, and I heard a click inside the lock mechanics. The spell worked. Opening the closet door, Sophie and I slipped the woman inside of it, careful not to hit her head on anything.

  “I feel like we’re crossing a line here,” Sophie whispered.

  “I feel like you sound like Charlotte,” I complained. “If we went with an invisibility spell or whatever instead of the transforming spell, we’d never get the information we need. We need to be the people that other people in the office will actually talk to. Now quick, have a look in her purse and find out who she is. You’re going to be her for the day.”

  Sophie rummaged through the lady’s purse and pulled out a wallet, checking the name on the ID.

  “Annie Barclay. Looks like I’m going to be an associate lawyer for the day.”

  “Do you know anything about the law?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, I hope you’re good at making it up on the spot,” I said. “Now quick, go grab her hand. I need the two of you to be touching for the spell to work.”

  Sophie did as instructed. “I’ll do the same thing that Charlotte did last time. The spell should last for two hours, but no more than two hours.”

  “Are you sure you’re going to do it right?” Sophie asked.

  “Well, Charlotte is a lot better at it than me, and it’s been a while, but it should be fine.”

  “It should be fine. That’s what everyone wants to hear just before they’re about to be magically shape-shifted into someone else’s body.”

  “Oh shut up,” I murmured, closing the closet door behind us. This was one of those moments I definitely didn’t want anyone to interrupt. I turned the flashlight on my phone on for a bit of light, and then focused on Sophie and Annie.

  “Corporoa transitora duo horoas.”

  I put every single inch of pow
er I had into focusing on the spell. I didn’t say it to Sophie, but I hadn’t ever actually body switched anyone before, even though I knew the spell for it. The burst of energy that flew out of me was stronger than anything I’d ever felt before. Sophie and Annie were enveloped in a white light, and I prayed with every ounce of my being that this worked. If I’d screwed it up and had to call Charlotte to fix it, she would never, ever let me hear the end of it.

  Thankfully, a minute later I saw Sophie lying unconscious on the ground, and Annie was magically back up and awake.

  “Woah! That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” the girl who looked like Annie but I knew was my best friend said, looking at her hands.

  “Really? Cooler than when you got turned into an eagle, or when we were invisible?”

  “Fine, it’s in the top three. Now what about you?”

  “Now we have to wait for someone else who works at the law firm to decide to come to work via the stairs,” I replied. “Hopefully it’ll be quick, since we only have two hours.”

  Luckily for the both of us, about three minutes later we heard the creak of the stairway door opening once more. As soon as Sophie saw who it was, she had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing. I threw her a dirty look.

  The man heading toward the stairs had obviously been told by his doctor that he had to try and get a bit more exercise. Everything about him screamed lawyer, so I was sure he worked at the law firm. His three-piece suit was expensive, he carried a briefcase, and his shoes were Italian. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was one of the two Forresters or Mr. Cork himself. He also weighed at least two hundred and fifty pounds, had about ten strands of hair left, and looked like the last thing he wanted to tackle all day were these flights of stairs.

  Well, I was about to make his day for him.

  “Somnuroa,” I whispered once more, and he fell to the ground. I grunted as I struggled to keep him from landing on his head. Sophie came over and helped me drag him to the closet, which took significantly longer than the last time. Panting, we finally got him in there, and I grabbed his hand and did the spell on myself.

  “Corporoa transitora duo horoas.”

  It was a strange feeling, like being on a roller coaster, but with my insides twisting around. A minute later, I looked down, and I looked exactly like a middle aged man about to go to work. I quickly did an unlocking spell on his briefcase, and a minute later realized that sure enough, I was now Lester Forrester. Apparently I was a personal injury specialist. Great.

  “Ok, let’s say we have an hour and forty-five minutes,” I said to Sophie. “You go up first. I’ll follow a minute later. Find out whatever you can about Jessica Oliver.”

  “Sure,” Sophie nodded, heading up the stairs. I closed the door behind the two people we were impersonating, locked it once more, and just for good measure set an unlockable spell on the door. If anyone came by with the real key, it wouldn’t work. Unless I reversed the spell, only magic would be able to unlock the door to the little closet.

  A minute later I climbed up the stairs to get to the firm where Jessica had worked. Normally, it wouldn’t have been a problem, but by the time I got to the top of the first flight, I felt lightheaded, was sweating, and I actually had to stop and take a breather before continuing up further. No wonder Lester Forrester looked like he wanted nothing to do with these stairs.

  Finally, I made it up and opened the door to the firm. The same receptionist as the day before was there. Thankfully, she was on the phone. I nodded a hello, the way men always do, and she handed me a handful of message slips. I continued past her and down the hallway, realizing suddenly that I had no idea where on earth I was supposed to go.

  Great. This was going to be harder than I thought.

  Just look casual, I thought to myself as I strolled past the offices, nodding hello at anyone whose eye I happened to meet. To my enormous relief, the doors to the offices were all glass, so it was possible to look into all of them. Three quarters of the way down the hall I spotted an empty room. I glanced in and looked at the certificates lining the wall. They all read “Lester Forrester”. Hallelujah!

  I entered the office and sat down, trying to look normal. Glancing at the messages, I realized I understood precisely nothing about any of them. Hopefully I could just ignore them for a while.

  I also wondered if anyone in the office realized Jessica Oliver was dead yet. After all, it was possible that Chief Gary hadn’t actually found out she worked here yet, and if she’d had a few days off, her absence wouldn’t have necessarily been noticed by anyone.

  A minute later a short, efficient-looking blonde woman knocked on the door and popped her head into the room.

  “Les, there’s a man in the lobby who wants an appointment with a PI lawyer. I’ve had Sally look over the essentials of the case, it’s going to be a tough, but lucrative one. A hospital surgeon left a clamp inside of him. Should I set him up for an appointment with you? You have an opening tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Yes, thank you,” I replied curtly, hoping it was how Lester Forrester would act. The lady seemed satisfied; she nodded and quickly left the room.

  The clock on the wall made me all too aware that I had already wasted fifteen minutes; I had ninety minutes tops to get as much information about Jessica Oliver as I could. Sitting here in my office certainly wasn’t going to do it. I decided I had to try and find the break room, and hopefully get some good gossip there.

  Chapter 7

  Getting up from my desk, I wandered through the halls.

  “Oh, hello Les,” one of the men said, stopping me. He was in his thirties, and had that confident businessman look about him: hair that I was fairly certain he dyed to get rid of the grays, a smile so white it probably belonged on an ad, and that demeanour that screamed he was good at his job. “Will you have a few minutes this afternoon to go over some documents on the Horizons Inc case I was telling you about?”

  “Of course,” I replied. “Come and see me a quarter past two and we’ll deal with it then,” I replied, wincing inwardly as I said it. The real Les Forrester was going to have no idea this was coming. I hoped he was a nice guy and not a terrible boss, for the sake of these employees.

  “Sure thing. Thanks.”

  A few minutes later I found a door leading into a small kitchen area, with a microwave, a full oven, a fridge, a dozen donuts sitting on the counter and a few tables for people to eat their food at. Realizing I hadn’t eaten breakfast, and figuring it was what Lester Forrester would do, I made my way to the counter and grabbed a Boston Cream donut. I chewed it while looking around. There weren’t that many people in here; just a couple of young women who looked a little bit surprised, and possibly a little bit confused, to see me. Maybe Lester Forrester wasn’t big on the break room.

  “Have any of you ladies seen Jessica Oliver the last few days?” I asked. It wasn’t subtle, but I didn’t have the time to beat around the bush.

  One of the ladies, a thin brunette who looked to be in her twenties, looked around nervously, like she was hoping someone else would come out of midair and answer for her.

  “No, but she’s not supposed to work until tomorrow.”

  “Is everything all right, Mr. Forrester?” the other girl, a friendly-looking redhead asked.

  “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Well, I thought you weren’t supposed to be eating donuts since you were diagnosed with diabetes last year.”

  Oh boy. Great.

  “The doctor told me it was getting better,” I replied. “I’m allowed a half donut every few weeks now,” I said, regrettably throwing the rest of the donut that I hadn’t eaten yet in the trash. Hopefully they were young enough and naïve enough to actually believe that was how diabetes worked.

  “Are you sure you’re ok?” the brunette asked, and they both looked concerned.

  “Of course I am,” I replied. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Well, it’s just, I’ve worked here for
eight months, and not only have I never seen you in the break room, but I didn’t think you knew any of the interns names.”

  I tried to look indignant. “Well, my name is on the firm’s door, I can come to the break room whenever I want.”

  “Of course, of course,” the brunette replied, looking like she wanted to sink into the wall. I had a feeling Lester Forrester was not, in fact, the friendly, jovial boss type.

  “And I do know the names of the interns here,” I muttered as well. I was glad the two girls both looked too scared to test me out, because the truth was I didn’t have a clue what either of their names were. Luckily, the awkward conversation was interrupted by Sophie—in the form of Annie—coming into the break room.

  “Mr. Forrester, I’ve been looking for you all over the place! The police are here and they want to speak with you. It turns out Jessica Oliver, one of our interns, was murdered in Willow Bay last night!”

  I tried to put on my best “shocked professional” look, the way I imagined a lawyer who had just found out an intern whose name he didn’t know had been killed.

  “Thank you, Annie. I’ll go out and see them now,” I said with a fake air of authority, and strode out of the room, leaving Sophie with the two interns. Hopefully she would get more information out of them than I had.

  I strode back out to the main reception area—thankfully I knew how to get there without getting lost. Sure enough, Chief Gary was talking to the receptionist while Sophie’s boyfriend, Taylor Shaw, spoke with a man in a bespoke suit who looked so much like the Lester Forrester I was currently impersonating — only around one hundred pounds lighter — that I was sure he had to be the other Forrester whose name was on the door.

  “Ah, you must be Lester Forrester,” Chief Gary said when he saw me, extending a hand. I took it and shook hard.

  “Chief Gary,” I greeted him. He tilted his head to the side.