Mystics are Murder (Bijoux Mystery Series Book 2)

by Teri Barnett

  Jack walked up and embraced Zoe in a bear hug, almost lifting her off the ground with the force of it. “I’m here,” was all he said.

  Zoe leaned back, looked into his eyes, and smiled. “You certainly are.”

  “What’s all the ruckus about?” Able asked as he walked out of the back of the store. “And what’s this all about?” he asked Zoe, who was standing with her arms still around Jack.

  Zoe pivoted to face him. “Able, this is Jack Steve. I told you all about him.”

  “I was her first real love,” Jack said, in that proud-alpha-male-do not challenge me-way.

  Able squinted at the other man. Morgan knew that look and nothing good ever came of it. “So, Dad, how about a cup of that famous coffee of yours?”

  “I’d love one too,” Rennie added. “Nice to see you, Able.” She gave him a hug, artfully turning him back toward the coffee bar. “Zoe tells me you have some new paint samples in. I’m thinking of repainting the Blue Crystal and would love to take a look.”

  Able harrumphed but allowed himself to be led away. “Don’t think I don’t know when I’m being manipulated. I was a cop for a lot of years, you know.”

  Morgan patted his shoulder. “No worries Dad.” She leaned and whispered in his ear while she walked with them. “Remember, she’s marrying you. In three days.” She felt him relax and smiled. “Speaking of, I wanted to check in with you and Zoe. What can I do to help with the wedding?”

  “Don’t worry about, Morgan. You have your hands full right now.”

  “Dad, we’ve had this conversation. I’m here and I want to help.”

  Able nodded, smiling. “Okay, we’ll let you know.”

  Jack and Zoe walked up to the coffee counter. “Rennie, we should probably head over to the set-up,” Jack said.

  Rennie nodded. “Want to come along, Zoe? Starman is there. We’re putting together our shop booth.”

  “I’d love to see him!” She looked over at Able. “You good with things if I leave for a bit?”

  “I’m good.” Able kissed her cheek. “Have fun with your friends.”

  As the trio headed to the front door, Morgan walked up behind them. “I was planning on checking things out. I’ll walk over with you.”

  Zoe smiled and linked her arm with Morgan’s, then she froze. Morgan glanced first at Zoe then back at her dad who was watching carefully.

  Rennie turned to her sister. “What do you see, Sis?”

  “A crystal with writing on it. So much darkness.” Her eyes focused on Morgan. “Let it go, Fay. You’re putting yourself in danger.”

  Morgan blanched. Fay was her middle name and Ian was the only one who ever called her that. She might not believe in psychics, but this was creepy. And not the first time Zoe had supposedly given her a message from Ian.

  Zoe shook her head as if to clear it. “Nothing. Nothing else.”

  Jack rubbed her back. “Just like the good old days.”

  Able cleared his throat and Jack dropped his hand.

  “Let’s go,” Morgan said. “Because obviously what I need right now is to surround myself with more psychics.”

  Chapter Nine

  Zoe and Jack walked around the back of the Raven’s Nest and entered the psychic fair set up through a wrought iron gate while Morgan hung back and observed the activity. She loved the bookstore and was honestly happy to see it as a vibrant hub of activity in her community. Never mind this particular activity, a psychic fair, was a little much. The old board and batten building had been a second home for her as a child and Cal’s great uncle Baptiste treated her like one of his own. Well, in his own gruff way. Morgan smiled, then shook off the trip down memory lane. She had a murder to solve.

  “So, Captain Hart, what new information do you have for our viewers?”

  Morgan spun around to find Connie holding a mike in her face. She frowned. “Nothing new, Connie.”

  “Nothing new? Or is it that you have nothing you’re willing to share with our good townsfolk? I can only imagine the worry and concern everyone is feeling right now.” She looked directly into the camera. “I know I’m certainly feeling it. I find myself constantly looking over my shoulder for the Detroit Killer.”

  “What you’re actually feeling is you’d like to boost your ratings by concocting stories where there are none.” Morgan turned to leave and Connie grabbed her arm. Morgan stared at it until the other woman released her and stepped back.

  Connie turned the mike off and told the camerawoman to go get some mood shots of the psychics setting up. “How is Woodsy? I know you talked to him yesterday at the crime scene.”

  “You should ask him yourself.”

  “I’m trying to honor our break, but it’s hard.” She glanced at Morgan, frowning. “I miss him.”

  Morgan sighed. “I’m sorry you’re having troubles. Give him a few more days. Maybe he’ll be willing to talk then.”

  Connie brightened. “Do you think so?”

  “Doc’s never been one to hold a grudge.” The sounds of an argument from the back of the bookstore caught Morgan’s attention. “I need to go. Good luck.”

  Morgan rounded the side of the building and entered the gate. Rennie, Jack, and Starman – what was his real name, anyway? – were all talking loudly around a pop-up tent. “You absolutely cannot set your tent up here, Rennie,” Jack said. “You’re practically on top of a ley line, for heaven’s sake.” He huffed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if your tent caved in and you lost all of your inventory because of it!”

  Starman rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Oh, please, man. What you know about ley lines I could write on a penny. Don’t you think we pendled the entire area to figure out our location?” He dangled a crystal point pendulum mounted to the end of a thick gold chain. “Besides, this isn’t your event, Jack. Caleb said we can sit here and here is where we’ll sit!”

  Cal walked up and stood next to Morgan. “What’s going on?” he asked her.

  Morgan shrugged. “You got me. Some sort of psychic showdown.”

  “Oh, Morgan, dear,” Rennie said. “It’s nothing, really.” She walked over and stood on the other side of her soon-to-be-niece by marriage. “Those two used to be best friends years ago, like brothers. Now look at them.” Rennie shook her head. “Every time they’re together now, it’s about one-upping the other. Ridiculous.”

  “What happened between them?” Cal asked.

  “It’s an old story, really. They both went after the L.A. police psychic job and were given a test. After comparing notes, they realized they’d come up with the same answer. Together, they decided to let it go – because how was the department going to choose between them? – but Jack went behind Starman’s back and took the job.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “That wasn’t very friend-like,” Morgan said.

  “It wasn’t. But Jack also really needed the money. His family had cut him off when they found out he was working as a psychic. It’s been close to forty years. You’d think those two would give it a rest, but Starman felt betrayed and never forgave Jack.”

  Cal approached the older men. “Hey, you’re drawing a crowd. How about you let them get set up, Jack, and you and I will go inside and talk about tomorrow’s discussion and book signing?”

  Jack, his mouth set in a firm line, said, “Fine.” He gave Starman a disgusted look. “I won’t be held responsible if your tent is damaged. I tried to help.”

  “Sure, like you tried to help all those years ago and took that job from me.”

  At that, Rennie stepped in. “Go on Jack. Go with Caleb.” She looked at Starman, hands on hips. “And you. Release it, for goddess’s sake. Now go get the boxes out of the van while I finish setting up the tent.” He started to protest and she held up a hand. “Morgan will help me with the tent, won’t you dear?”

  “Let’s do this,” Morgan said, then stopped to check her phone when it pinged. JJ found some basic information on Jack Steve and Starman McGee and was heading
over with the details. She pocketed the phone and grabbed a corner of the tent. Within ten minutes, the top was up, the leg height adjusted, and JJ was walking into the courtyard.

  “Starman and I can finish from here,” Rennie said, nodded toward JJ as he approached. “Go solve Edna’s case. Then you can solve Ian’s and move on with your life.”

  “Who told you about Ian?”

  Rennie laughed a little and pointed at her forehead.

  “Right,” Morgan said. “Let’s go, JJ. The preserve awaits.”

  Chapter Ten

  “What info do you have?” Morgan asked as they drove to the campgrounds.

  “Some background on Jack and Starman. Jack comes from a wealthy logging family in the U.P. They’ve never really approved of his line of work. Starman, born Bobby McGee, legally changed his first name in the eighties.”

  “Bobby McGee? Like the song?”

  JJ nodded. “He cited that as the reason for the change. According to the records and what I’ve cobbled together online, people would stop and ask him to sing it all the time and it was affecting his life in a negative way.”

  “And he thought Starman was a better choice?”

  “Who knows what lurks in the mind of a psychic?” JJ asked.

  Morgan shrugged. “Another psychic?”

  JJ laughed as he pulled into the campgrounds, only to stop when they both saw the side door on Edna’s van wide open.

  “What the hell?” Morgan said. They’d secured it as a crime scene and were waiting for a tow truck from Traverse City to take it to impound.

  “Probably kids being nosey,” JJ said.

  Hand on the butt of her holstered gun, Morgan walked on silent feet to the van, JJ close behind. She heard rustling coming from inside the vehicle. “You’re not supposed to be in there,” she called out. “Show yourself.”

  A muffled stream of expletives came out ahead of Rocky Banks. He climbed out of the van and stood, barefoot, in the sand in front of them. “What?” he demanded, hands on hips.

  “You’re not allowed in there,” JJ said. He motioned at the broken crime scene tape. “You see that? You’ve entered an active crime scene and tampered with evidence.”

  Rocky looked from JJ to Morgan, eyes wide. “I was only retrieving some things that belong to me.”

  “Such as?” Morgan asked.

  The younger man pulled a black bedazzled turban out of his back pocket. “This, for one.” He pulled it on. “Now that Edna is gone, I’m a full-fledged psychic now. I deserve the black turban.”

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “Oh, good lord. What else did you take?” She peered into the van. A few of the built-in drawers were open, clothing shifted about.

  “That’s it.”

  “You said things. Plural,” JJ said.

  Rocky crossed his arms over his chest and stood silent.

  “And the inside of the van is definitely not how we left it. JJ, take Rocky on over to the station. Maybe he’ll be more inclined to answer our questions down there.”

  Rocky threw his arms up in the air. “Fine. Fine.” He pulled a tarot deck out of the cargo pocket of his pants. “These are my cards. Edna promised them to me.”

  Morgan held out her hand and Rocky placed the deck there. “I’d like to go on the record I don’t approve of you touching my deck.” He gave her the once over. “You and your unbeliever vibes could screw them up, make them unusable. I’m going to have to do a major clearing on them now.”

  She ignored him and fanned the deck to make sure there was nothing hidden between the cards. “All clear,” she said, handing them back.

  “Why are you here?” Rocky asked. “What are you looking for?”

  “Just anything we may have missed,” JJ said.

  “Well, do you want my advice?” Rocky asked.

  “Not really, but that probably won’t stop you,” Morgan replied.

  “You’re right, it won’t.” Rocky gestured to the host campsite and pointed to Daisy and Davey’s camper. “Those two. They’re shady as hell. I wouldn’t put murder past them.”

  “What makes you say that?” Morgan asked. She took a step closer to Rocky and looked at him over the top of her silver aviators. “Did you see or hear something?”

  Rocky sifted through tarot deck. “I saw it in my crystal ball. I was doing a reading yesterday, after you found poor Edna’s body. Their reflections were all I could see.”

  “Are you sure they weren’t standing near you?” JJ said.

  He huffed. “No, it wasn’t that sort of reflection. They looked angry.”

  “You sounded angry last night at the Perch Mouth,” Morgan said. “I believe you said Edna was holding you down.”

  “So what if I did? It’s the truth but it doesn’t mean I’d kill the old thing. She was grumpy, make no bones about that. And not always a great person. You either liked her or you didn’t. I happened to like her, in spite of her nagging ways.”

  Shouts from the beach drew their attention. “Hey, what’s going on over there?” JJ asked.

  A little girl, maybe eight years old, was jumping up and down, screaming, “It’s Messie! It’s Messie! She’s here!”

  Morgan and JJ exchanged glances then hurried the sixty yards or so over to the beach. At the edge of the water stood a couple of teenagers in wetsuits. Same kids who had picketed the station a couple of months ago, demanding freedom of expression on behalf of their graffiti-producing compatriot. Morgan walked up to them. Miranda Melody Daniels, dressed in her usual black with hair dyed to match, gave Morgan a quick glance out of the corner of her eye. “What do you want?”

  “What happened?” The crowd was getting louder and louder and Morgan had to shout to be heard over the din.

  Miranda shrugged. “It’s what the kid there said. Messie just stuck her head up out of the water, did a full roll, then dove back under.”

  Morgan had grown up in Bijoux with the legends of Messie, the large Loch Ness-type sea monster who inhabited Lake Michigan. She was friendly to swimmers but terrorized the pirates and rum runners of days past. Apparently Messie had a moral code, which Morgan could relate to, but that didn’t mean she believed the lake monster was an actual thing. “Does that happen often?”

  “Of course not.” Miranda huffed. “It’s because of climate change.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Messie likes the slightly warmer part of the lake, around Chicago. But it’s too warm down there now because of the shifting thermocline. The fact she’s here, this far north along the shoreline, means she’s running out of places to live.” Miranda shook her head, obviously disgusted. “Law enforcement should already be aware of this threat to both Messie and our world.”

  “I’m well aware of the conversation around climate change, but Lake Michigan is chilly on a warm day, frigid in the winter. It always has been.”

  Miranda squared her shoulders. “You are obviously a non-believer. In Messie and the climate,” she said and stomped away.

  Well, that was twice in less than thirty minutes she’d been called a non-believer. She either needed to start having faith in something or work on her poker face. Likely the latter. Lakeside living was evidently softening her.

  “It has nothing to do with the water temperature.”

  Morgan spun around. Rocky was standing about a foot away.

  “And what’s your theory?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “It’s our psychic presence, of course,” Rocky said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  JJ groaned.

  Rocky continued, “Contrary to what the young lady said, Lake Michigan hasn’t changed that much, temperature wise. If anything, it’s colder because it’s deeper now from increased rain and runoff.”

  Morgan and JJ stared at him. He shrugged. “What can I say, I wanted to be a marine biologist when I was a kid, before I realized my true calling.” He stepped around Morgan, toward the lake, and scanned the horizon. “Messie is here because she feels our lovin
g energy and wants to communicate with us.” He turned back to Morgan and JJ. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to head over to the Raven’s Nest and let everyone know so we can plan accordingly.”

  “Plan what exactly?” Morgan asked, hands on hips.

  “A vigil, of course.” Rocky shook his head. “Honestly, it’s like neither of you know anything about the other realms.”

  “Because we prefer to stay grounded in this one. It’s how we solve cases, like your friend’s murder,” Morgan said.

  Rocky paled. His hand flew to his heart. “Maybe Edna is trying to communicate with us through Messie. I hadn’t considered that.”

  Morgan leaned in. “One thing you can consider is another visit from one of us if we find out you’ve taken anything else from the van.” She stepped back. “Understood?”

  “Who knew that the old witch’s death would cause me so much trouble.” He looked heavenward. “You know I love you, Edna.” He looked back at the officers. “Yes. I understand,” Rocky said and trudged off across the dune.

  JJ and Morgan stepped away from the crowd. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “That we don’t have any real suspects. We have people who didn’t particularly like our victim, but also others who loved her.” Morgan rubbed her eyes behind her sunglasses. “Right now, Rocky has been the most vocal. Let’s add him to the other searches you’re running.”

  “Copy that.” JJ shoved his hands in his pockets. “What do you think about Daisy and Davey? They seemed pretty irritated with Edna for taking over host duties.”

  “It’s a small thing, but sometimes that’s enough to set some people off. Sure, might as well check them out too. And then there are the other two psychic murders. I’m surprised no one at the gathering has mentioned those.” Morgan scanned the crowd. They were taking their time getting back into the lake, no doubt concerned about potential sea monsters. She turned her attention back to the van. “Let’s close up the van and reset the crime scene tape.” Morgan checked her watch. “It’s after five. I’m going to get some food, see if there’s any chatter out there about Edna. I’ll grab Griselda from the station afterward and call it a day. How about you?”