by Teri Barnett
“We assume so,” JJ said. He stood and looked through a couple of storage lockers built into the side of the van. “Here you go,” he said as he pulled a bag of Hungry Cat Mix out and handed it to Cal.
The cat started howling again. They all looked at each other, then at Edna. Morgan walked around the body and let out a sigh of relief. “The cat did not try to eat her.”
“Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure how to report cat cannibalism,” JJ said.
“It’s only cannibalism if they’re eating their own kind. I don’t know what you call cross species munching,” Cal said.
“Dinner?” Morgan offered.
Cal shook his head. “I can’t believe you said that.”
Morgan shrugged and continued bagging and tagging potential evidence: tarot cards, candles, crystals. It looked like a mini new age shop, all in this van. After taking more pictures, she pulled the folding table upright. “Hey, JJ. Take a look at this.” Carved into the wax in all caps was the word FRAUD. “This looks like it was written with someone’s finger. Please take some pictures and then see if you can get any prints from it.” She leaned in and followed the lines with her eyes. Sharply drawn, tight spacing. “Maybe Doc can find some DNA.”
“Well, well. Another murder out at Lac Voo Nature Preserve. Death sure does seem to follow you around, Morgan.”
Morgan didn’t bother to turn around. “What are you doing here, Connie?” She checked her watch. Thirty minutes since they’d arrived. Connie was fast today. “Did you by any chance come with Doc? Him, we’re looking for. You, we’re not.”
“No, that lovely couple over there called me. Something about freedom of the press and the need to avoid any police or government cover-ups.” Connie sent Davey and Daisy a finger wave. “If Woodsy’s on his way, though, I’ll make this fast. That should make you happy, Morgan, not that that’s a priority.”
“You and Doc on the outs?” JJ asked.
“Let’s just say we’ve hit a rough patch and I’ve agreed to stay ten yards away from him until we sort it all out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but not sorry you’re leaving. Goodbye.” Morgan tried to pull the van door closed, but Connie wedged her foot in. Morgan stared hard at her. “Go away, Connie. I promise we’ll let you know if anything nefarious has transpired.”
Connie craned her head around Morgan and looked into the back of the van. “From the looks of it, the Detroit Killer is back.”
“We’ve been through this. There is no Detroit Killer. Remember? JJ and I disproved your ridiculous theory when we solved the last case.” Morgan shifted again to block Connie’s nosy gaze.
“I have it on good authority that case isn’t really solved,” Connie said.
Morgan straightened. “What are you talking about?”
“I decided to do some research of my own recently and visited with Susan up in Traverse City. She’s recanting her confession; said she didn’t murder those people. Said you forced her to say she did it so you could solve the case and not look bad, throw suspicion away from the Detroit Killer.” Connie gave Morgan the once over. “Which, of course, is not shocking at all to me.”
“Wait. You did what?” JJ shook his head. “So not cool, Connie.”
“I’m only going to say this once, Connie. It is not your job to get involved in our cases.” Morgan stared hard at the other woman. “Especially ones we’ve already solved.”
“And I’m only going to say this once. I’m an investigative reporter. It is my job to look into murders and such.” She angled her head around Morgan. “Like the one right here.”
“We’re not calling this a homicide until Doc does his assessment.”
“I don’t see it that way. Like I’ve said before, death follows you. Like Tippi Hedren in that Hitchcock movie, The Birds. Only you’re not nearly as glamorous. You’re just plain bad luck. You returned to Bijoux from Detroit and this sleepy little tourist town became a magnet for murder.” Connie shrugged. “It’s a reasonable conclusion to make.”
“Only if you’re fishing for a story where there isn’t one.” Morgan gave her a narrow-eyed stare. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Reporting the news is my job. There is nothing better,” Connie said. She waved Maria, her camerawoman, over, who trained the camera on Connie’s face. She stood in front of Morgan and began her report. “I’m on the scene with Bijoux’s police force at the Lac Voo Nature Preserve where, once again, a body has been discovered. The camping psychics believe it to be one of their own, Madame Edna Marisol, the beloved intuitive and tarot reader of Cleveland Circus fame.” Connie shoved the mic in Morgan’s face. “Tell us what you know so far, Captain Hart.”
Morgan pushed the mic away and turned her back to the reporter. “Go away, Connie,” she flung over her shoulder. “You know I’m not ready to make a statement.”
Unaffected, Connie continued, “As usual, our dear police captain is more intent on keeping secrets than on maintaining the safety of our beloved town.”
“Seriously, Connie?” Cal walked up, still holding the cat who was nibbling chow out of his hand. “You know Morgan does a great job.”
Connie eyed him up and down, tapping a finger on her chin. “You moved here from Ann Arbor, didn’t you? Perhaps it’s not a Detroit Killer. Perhaps we’re dealing with an Ann Arbor Killer who followed you here seeking revenge. Perhaps the killer is determined to undermine the former University of Michigan professor by ruining his events. After all, you sponsored the romance writers’ retreat and this psychic gathering. You are also a common link.”
Cal scoffed.
She turned her attention back to the camera. “Dear Madame Marisol, dead at the hands of a killer intent on who knows what? This cozy local campground shaken to its very core. Each and every psychic is running to their tarot cards and crystal balls to determine who could be next at the hands of the Detroit — or Ann Arbor — Killer.”
Chapter Four
“What do we have on the docket today?” Doc McVie asked as he walked up to the van. He pushed up his round wire rim glasses. “Murder or natural causes?”
“That would be your decision, wouldn’t it?” Morgan said.
Doc bristled. “Of course it is. I still want to know what your initial impressions are.”
“Likely murder, based on the scene and positioning of the body,” Morgan said as Doc’s eyes widened. Morgan followed his gaze and blew out a breath. “The host family called Connie,” she ground out.
Connie waved at them.
Doc shook his head, motioned to his assistant, Maggie Cornet, who’d been waiting by the ambulance as he climbed into the van. Maggie hurried over, body bag in hand.
Maggie paused before entering the van. She winked at JJ. “Hey, JJ. How’s it going?”
“Would be better if we weren’t heading toward another death investigation.’
“True. Things okay at home?”
“Maggie, I need your help,” Doc said from inside the van.
Maggie sighed and unfolded the body bag. “We can catch up later,” she said with another wink as she entered the vehicle.
“She’s still sweet on you,” Morgan observed.
“And it’s still not mutual,” JJ replied.
An hour later, Doc and Maggie were headed to the morgue with Edna, the crime scene had been secured, and Morgan drove Cal and JJ back to town. She pulled the blue squad truck up to the curb in front of the police station. Built in the thirties, the building was made of limestone, river rock, brass accents, and maintained a serious Art Deco attitude. It also shared a wall with the Town Hall.
As the trio exited the truck, Morgan said, “JJ, please go on inside and start running searches to see if there are any similar deaths out there.”
“You think there might be something else going on?”
“I don’t know, I still have a vibe I can’t shake and want to make sure we don’t miss connecting any dots.” She shrugged. “If there are any dots to connect
, that is.”
JJ picked up the evidence box from the back of the truck. “I’m on it. What are you going to do next?”
“I noticed Mayor Ed walking into dad’s store when we drove past. I’m going to let him know what’s going on. You know how antsy he gets.” She checked the time. A couple of hours had passed since Connie left the campground. “It’s possible he’s already heard about it from Connie, too, and that never goes well.”
“It is an election year, you know,” Cal said, leaning against the truck bed.
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Yeah, so he keeps reminding me. I hate politics.”
Cal pushed against the truck and took a step forward. “C’mon, I’ll go with you. Mayor Ed likes me. Maybe I can help cushion the conversation.”
“Appreciate the offer, but I’m pretty sure not even a feather bed on a mountain of cotton balls could soften what I have to tell him. Morgan crossed her arms. “Besides, don’t you have a bookstore to run? A psychic with two first names to pick up at the airport?”
“I have an intern — you remember Billy Livernois, the graffiti kid? — he’s watching the shop for me.”
“I think that’s great you’re mentoring him,” JJ said. “These kids around here need all the support they can get.”
“He’s a good kid, just needed an outlet.” Cal glanced at his watch. “But damn. I forgot about Jack Steve. Guess you’ll have to continue this investigation without me for the moment.” They’d found a cat carrier in the van and brought Griselda along with them. He patted the carrier where it rode, secured, in the back of the truck. “Shall I drop Griselda off at Doctor Pete’s for a checkup? Make sure she didn’t sustain any trauma?”
Morgan considered him. She already knew he had a cat thing and, if she were being completely honest with herself, she found it kind of endearing. Oh hell, no. Everyone likes a person who cares about animals and that’s all it is, she reasoned.
“I’d appreciate it. Please tell the vet to check for anything unusual. After all, Griselda is our only murder witness. Well, besides the murderer.” She blew out a breath. “Assuming it is a murder.”
Cal sighed. “It’s too bad cats can’t talk.” He pushed his finger through the gate on the front of the crate and patted the animal’s foot. “Pete does a great job, but I’ll inform him of this kitty’s special situation. Hopefully there’s nothing more unusual about her other than the fact she has five little toes on each foot.” He made clicking sounds with his tongue. “You are obviously a Maine Coon, pretty kitty. Or at least partly.”
“Maine Coon?” Morgan froze. How did she miss that detail? She was a cop, after all, trained to notice everything.
“Yes. Just look at these feet.” He continued to tsk and click at the cat. “Of course, there are other breeds with five toes, but her other markings and fur sure make it seem likely.”
Morgan hesitated. She did love Maine Coons. In her mind, they were the Holy Grail of Cats. And this one here, Miss Griselda, was certainly a beautiful one. She started to reach for the carrier, then held herself back. She had a murder investigation to get underway, not a kitty play date. Though the latter sounded infinitely more appealing. “Okay, thanks for offering to take her over. I’ll check in with the vet later,” Morgan said as she headed across the street to Hal’s Hardware.
“If there’s any coffee cake, please grab me some,” JJ called after her.
“Me too,” Cal said.
Morgan waved her hand. “You both know there won’t be any left.”
“Well, a man can hope....” JJ said.
Going into Hal’s Hardware was always a step back in time for Morgan. Even though her dad had owned the store for a couple of years now, it hadn’t changed since she was a kid and he used to bring her here. Metal shelves with worn blue paint, wide wood plank floor with the finish worn off, the whole place crammed full of anything you could possibly want or need for your next home improvement project.
She heard voices and walked toward the back of the long, double shotgun style building. Standing around, over a coffee bar made from a solid core wood door and a couple of sawhorses, were her dad Able, his girlfriend and local psychic Zoe Buffet, Mayor Ed Peltier who was perpetually running for re-election, and Tut, who owned the motorcycle/scooter repair shop down the street and was on his way out. “Hey Tut, I’m going to need to talk to you about a camper trailer for my bike,” Morgan said. He smiled and gave her a thumbs up as he passed by. Tut was not one for mincing words.
“Morgan!” Able said as he made his way around the counter. He hugged her tight, then held her at arm’s length. “I know that face. Let me pour you a cup and then you can tell us all about it.”
Zoe didn’t say a word, just continued to watch Morgan with a keen eye. A shiver ran down Morgan’s spine. While she did not believe in psychics, Zoe could be downright creepy sometimes. “Zoe?”
“Morgan?”
“Coffee?” Able said as he handed her a cup.
Morgan stared into the steaming black liquid for a moment, mentally forming her words. Just as she opened her mouth to fill them in on the morning’s events, her phone beeped a text message. She pulled it out of her back pocket and read the note from JJ. Based on a quick database search, this is the third psychic killed in as many months. Still digging in. Morgan let out a breath and tucked her phone away.
She pushed her choppy brown hair out of her eyes and looked up at the mayor. “You’re not going to like anything I have to say right now.” Morgan put her cup down. “There’s been another death out at the Lac Voo Nature Preserve.”
“You’re not saying it, but I’m going to assume it was a murder. What I want to know is how is that possible? Didn’t you increase the patrol in that area after the last time?”
“JJ and I pull extra shifts when we can, but there are just the two of us, you know? We have to sleep at some point.”
The mayor tugged at his shirt hem, something Morgan had come to learn was his ‘tell’ when aggravated. “Well, this is completely unacceptable.”
“Yes, being shorthanded is unacceptable. What’s even more unacceptable is a woman died last night. We’re still waiting for confirmation from Doc McVie, but it appears she was strangled.”
“You know I meant it’s unacceptable with this being an election year.”
“I know what you meant. I was helping you not sound so self-centered when we have a woman in the morgue.”
Mayor Ed puffed himself up. “Now you see here, Captain...”
Able stepped between them. “Let’s all settle down.” He turned to Morgan. “Do you know who it is? ID’d the body?”
“It’s Edna Marisol, isn’t it?” Zoe asked.
“How did you know that? Has Connie been on TV with this already?” Morgan asked. “I told her not to report anything until we’d confirmed all the details, not that that ever stops her.”
“No. I mean, I don’t know. Haven’t had the TV on today. It’s just, I thought I heard her voice late last night. Woke up straight up out of a dead sleep.”
“Probably not the best choice of words, sweetie,” Able said.
Zoe pushed a strand of long silver hair out of her eyes. “Oh. Yeah. Probably not.”
“Did she say anything to you?” Able asked her.
Why did he insist on encouraging her? “Dad, we’ve talked about this...”
Able held up a hand. “Not now, Morgan.”
“Let me think.” Zoe rubbed her forehead. “She was sad, so unhappy. Said something about Griselda. ‘Griselda is my key,’ I think. No idea what that means other than that cat was her only family.” She leveled her gaze at Morgan. “Did you find her? Griselda, I mean.”
“I found both Edna and Griselda. Caleb is taking the cat over to the veterinarian for a checkup as we speak.”
Mayor Ed interrupted. “Enough talk about cats. What are you doing about this, Morgan?”
“JJ and I have just started our investigation, but you can be assured we’ll be thorough. We’
ll also do everything we can to make sure folks — especially the visiting psychics and end of season tourists — feel safe here. It’s Thursday and the event ends Sunday evening, so we just need to get through the next few days with no incidents.”
The mayor nodded. “I better not hear anything from Connie Graham that I haven’t already heard from you, understood? You keep me informed.”
“Every step of the way.” Well, most of the steps. Some things she wouldn’t be ready to share until she’d vetted them, like the possibility of a psychic serial killer on the loose. “I need to head back to the station. Oh, Zoe, I almost forgot. Did you have coffee cake today? We saw the line earlier. JJ and Cal asked me to bring them each a piece if you did.” She smiled. “Of course, I told them there wouldn’t be any left.”
Zoe reached behind the counter and pulled out three small paper plates, a slice of coffee cake on each, and covered with plastic wrap. She handed them to Morgan. “I saved you each a piece.”
Morgan lifted the edge of the plastic and inhaled the rich, buttery cinnamon scent. “What’s the occasion? You’re off by about a week.”
Zoe looked over at Able. He leaned on the counter and reached for Zoe’s hand. “We’re getting married.”
Morgan stared at both of them. “What?”
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Mayor Ed said as he left the store. “I’ll leave you three to your family moment.”
“Coward,” Able called after him, laughing.
“And you were going to tell me when?” Morgan asked.
“Today. We just decided last night the timing was right.” Able squeezed Zoe’s hand. “You could say the stars all aligned, what with so many of Zoe’s friends in town this weekend.”
“I hope you can be happy for us,” Zoe said.
Morgan shook off her initial astonishment. Even though her mom and dad had been divorced for over twenty years, and her mom lost her fight with cancer three years ago, it was still a bit of a shock. It didn’t matter he’d been with Zoe for a few years now; to think of her dad with someone else was still plain weird in her mind. But, as a reasonably functioning adult, that was her issue to parse through, not Dad’s or Zoe’s. Life goes on, right? “Oh, goodness, of course I’m happy for you! It’s just a surprise.” She hugged them both. “Please let me know if I can help with anything.”
