I’m assuming there would have been blood all over the boy were your scenario even remotely correct. Unless Mr. Whitaker had enough time to change his white work shirt, of course.
I barely avoided steering into an oncoming vehicle in reaction to Pearl’s abrupt visit, who’d once again materialized in the passenger seat as if I were used to such comings and goings. I wasn’t. I had no familiar, and I sure wasn’t inclined to get one after meeting her.
“Pearl, stop that! You’re going to get us both killed.”
It’s not like I can knock, Miss Lilura.
“Well, figure something out or I’ll take you back to those hares and leave you at their mercy.” Once my heartrate settled a bit, anger and fear began to settle in. Did Pearl not understand the severity of my vision? She’d seen it firsthand. “Pearl, Jamie Lehman’s life is depending on us to keep her safe. I saw her die in that parking lot. We can’t take the chance that I missed something.”
I know exactly what you saw, and how dare you assume that I would put an innocent life in danger? I’m offended that you would even think such a thing, Miss Lilura.
“Then why are you here with me instead of Jamie?” I turned onto the main thoroughfare in town, searching for a parking spot near the café. It was now mid-morning. Everyone and their mother wanted to get their caffeine fix. Even though I was in desperate need of some myself, I came very close to driving to the police station instead of the café. “Is she still with Detective Jones?”
If you’d knock that massive chip off your shoulder, lovey, I might be able to get a word in edgewise.
I began my count to ten, hoping to achieve even an ounce of patience.
Now, isn’t that better? I can now catch you up to speed on the last twenty minutes. Ms. Lehman has been called in to the café. The morning manager—
“Came down with the flu,” I said, finishing Pearl’s appraisal of the situation. It looked as if the café was definitely my destination. “I just spoke with Orwin and Piper. Tad was called in to work, as well. Piper was asked to go in one hour early. Is Jamie at the café now? We can—”
As snug as a bug in a rug.
Well, didn’t that just up my guilt meter. I’d jumped on Pearl without allowing her to tell me that she’d seen through her mission to keep Jamie Lehman safe.
No need to apologize. We’re all on edge. I suggest you take advantage of this opportunity, seeing as you have three suspects corralled into one place.
“Three?”
Pearl didn’t answer me.
A quick glance at the passenger seat told me that she’d vanished into thin air, most likely back to the café where Jamie Lehman was now filling in during the morning shift. Piper’s familiar had a tendency to leave out information that would be beneficial in times like these, but I’d already figured out who one of the individuals she’d been referring to was based on the Land Rover parked directly in front of the café.
We’d ruled Knox Emeric out of the suspect pool, but I still had an inherent sense that he was withholding critical information. It looked as if Pearl felt the same. Maybe I should have had her listen in on those interviews this morning.
I was lucky that someone was pulling out of a parking spot across the street or else I would have had to use the parking lot of the nearby mall. I managed to quickly make my way across the street after hitting the lock button on the key fob, wishing Orwin would hurry up in his questioning of John Cooper. Pearl might be able to get a read on magical beings, but only Orwin had the ability to read human thoughts.
The delicious aroma of coffee washed over me the moment I opened the door, causing the bell above my head to chime at my arrival. No one bothered to look my way with the exception of Knox Emeric. He was always on alert…or so it seemed.
He was sitting at the same table he’d occupied last night, enjoying a cup of coffee and what looked to be some type of breakfast sandwich. His warm gaze rested on me before he nodded slightly in greeting. I resisted the urge to walk over to him.
Stop being distracted by the big bad wolf, my dear Red Riding Hood. We have work to do, and Grandma’s house isn’t on the agenda.
Sure enough, Pearl was strolling toward me from behind the counter as if I’d been about to make a horrible decision. I hadn’t been going to join Knox at his table for the heck of it, but to ask about his meeting with Detective Jones. That was considered work, in my opinion. Hadn’t Pearl herself insinuated that there were three suspects in the coffee shop?
Mr. Emeric can wait, but you only have a few moments to speak to those young girls ordering vanilla nonfat lattes up at the counter. They have class at the college in thirty minutes, although the brunette is attempting to talk the redhead into skipping today’s lecture.
The names of the two nineteen-year-olds had been listed last on our list simply due to the process of elimination. It wasn’t that I believed someone so young couldn’t commit such a horrible crime as murder, but they had the least likely motive to kill Cassie Grier—which simply wasn’t there.
Aren’t those mysteries on television written that way on purpose? Never assume, Miss Lilura.
This wasn’t Murder, She Wrote, and I wasn’t human. What I had discerned was that the three suspects Pearl had mentioned earlier consisted of Tad and these two college girls. Personally, I still had Knox on the reserve list, but that was because I didn’t trust him or his nature.
That’s very wise, dear. Now move your fanny out of the way. You’re blocking someone’s entrance, so I suggest you join the others in ordering their beloved caffeinated beverages. I suggest tea, though. The calming properties far outweigh the…
Pearl continued to talk about tea as I made my way to the short line, bringing myself to stand directly behind Emma Day and Sophia Moore. The nineteen-year-old girls were rather quiet, and I noticed that Emma kept glancing toward the restroom with unease. Honestly, I wasn’t so sure I would have come back to this café if I were them. At least, not for quite a while.
The owner of the café is in the back office on the phone trying to do damage control. Looking at all these people, I don’t believe she has a thing to worry about. Morbid curiosity is a thing, you know.
The café was pretty crowded, and I’d also noticed a local media van down the street when I was parking the Jeep. The cameraman was probably trying to get the entirety of the café’s name in the shot while the reporter gave his or her account of the ongoing investigation.
“I don’t know why you wanted to come back here,” Emma muttered to her friend, still waiting for the man in front of her to finish his order. She wrapped her arms around her waist as she shot Sophia a frustrated glance. “It just feels wrong somehow.”
“I heard that Michael Pierce was going to be here,” Sophia commented with what sounded like excitement. She scanned the patrons, her frown clearly indicating that she couldn’t find this Mr. Pierce she’d mentioned. “He might interview us if we can somehow drop a hint to let him know we were here last night when it happened.”
Michael Pierce is the reporter outside, if you’d like to know. He’s been here for quite a while, from my understanding. I personally don’t see all the fuss about the man’s appearance. The fake tan he’s sporting makes him look like he used some of your foundation.
“I don’t want to be on television, and neither should you.” Emma leaned in close toward her friend. “Whoever killed that woman is still out there somewhere. Doesn’t that worry you?”
Sophia was prevented from answering when the man at the cash register moved out of their way, sliding his credit card back into his wallet and taking a spot near the pickup counter. It sounded horrible, but I wasn’t so much worried about the killer than I was the fact that my tinted moisturizer had apparently left a line along the underside of my jaw.
Left side, dear. Left side.
“I’d be worried about that, too,” I replied softly to Emma after she’d place her order of a nonfat vanilla latte. I finally lowered my hand to my side. If I
did look like a pumpkin head from the tinted moisturizer, there wasn’t a thing I could do about it now. “A few of these people look familiar, and any one of them could have followed that poor woman to the restroom. I told Detective Jones all I know, but I didn’t know the victim. Did you?”
“No, I didn’t know her,” Emma replied, exchanging worried looks with Sophia. They were both now scanning the faces of the patrons inside the café, Michael Pierce easily forgotten. “Hey. Wasn’t that guy here last night?”
That wasn’t very nice of you to veer their suspicions toward Mr. Emeric. From the look on his face, he’s realized what you’ve done.
It hadn’t been a nice thing to do, but I pushed the guilt aside and focused on my objective. I’d found over the last three months that distraction inevitably led to people letting things slip. I could definitely get these two girls to talk.
“He was one of the people here last night,” Sophia confirmed with barely a whisper, pushing Emma toward the pickup counter now that they’d placed and paid for their orders. A little bit of fear made one cautious, so I didn’t feel too much remorse. “I didn’t know the woman, but I had seen her around town a time or two with Vickie.”
I give you credit, oh mighty hexed one. Very well done.
“Vickie?” I asked, already knowing that was one of the names of the women who had been friends with Cassie Grier.
As for Pearl’s compliment, that was high praise from the white feline.
“Vickie Traynor,” Sophia explained, keeping close tabs on Knox. Okay. Maybe I did feel a little bit guilty for throwing him under the bus. “She works at the veterinarian clinic where we take our dog. She’s a real nice lady.”
I thought I caught the whiff of wet dog. Horrible odor, just horrible!
“What about the other woman they were with last night?” I asked, hoping to keep the conversation going. I quickly ordered a plain black coffee and handed over a crumbled five-dollar bill I had in my coat pocket. I’d found it best not to carry a purse, seeing that extra baggage slowed down my movements whenever I needed to protect myself…or run. “Did you know her?”
Emma might have been the quiet one, but she was the more astute of the two. She regarded me carefully before taking a step back, clearly noting that I was doing more than just making small talk. Tad Whitaker was in the process of making their drinks, but Emma wasn’t focused on him at all.
“Oh, you’re talking about Megan Kirk,” Sophia said, still carrying on the conversation while keeping a wary eye on Knox. “I don’t know her either, other than that she hangs around Heather all the time. Megan and Cassie were in a heated argument about something outside of the café last night, but they seemed to make up by the time they sat down. I told that to the detective, but I didn’t want him to think I was suggesting anything. I wasn’t. Hey, do you think…”
I tuned Sophia out for just a moment while I went over that new tidbit of information. Megan and Cassie had been in a heated argument before they came into the café? I needed to call Orwin and Piper to have them talk with Megan as soon as possible.
That won’t be necessary, dear. Megan Kirk just walked into the café. It seems as if the café is just a gathering place for all our suspects, doesn’t it?
Chapter Thirteen
“…appreciate you meeting me here,” Detective Jones said after he’d joined Megan at a table next to the pickup counter. As I said before, the café was quite crowded. I took my time choosing the white packets of sugar and tearing off the top portion. “I wanted to go back over the events of last night with you.”
You should know that you’ve captured Detective Jones’ interest. Not in the romantic way either, but more in a suspicious manner where he’s trying to figure out why you’re here…back at the scene of the crime.
“Anything I can do to help catch Cassie’s killer,” Megan replied politely, setting her small purse on her lap with what appeared to be an odd smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. I’m pretty sure it had to do with the fact that she was back in a place that surely brought back memories of what she’d discovered in the women’s restroom. Either that or she was frightened that Detective Jones would figure out that she had something to do with Cassie Grier’s murder. Her eyes were still rather bloodshot from grief. “It’s just all so horrible. I mean, who could have done such a horrible thing?”
I must give Detective Jones’ credit in having certain suspects meet him back at the scene of the crime. If I were ever guilty of murder, such a tactic might cause me to have a misstep.
I doubted that anything or anyone would cause Pearl to confess to a crime…even the murder of a wayward pharaoh.
You’re right, of course, but it was my way of giving the good detective his due. I was not speculating on anyone’s lack of character or crimes from their past.
“What can I get you, Ms. Kirk?” Detective Jones asked, obviously deciding to make Megan a bit more comfortable by plying her with a caffeine beverage.
You’re going to stir a hole right through that cup if you aren’t careful, Nancy Drew.
I focused on adding some half and half to my already sweetened coffee, hoping that Detective Jones would walk right past me to the cash register. My next step was to find a table where I could hear their upcoming conversation.
“I remember you, puffball.”
Puffball? Just who do you think you are? What are you doing? What—stop. Cease this minute! Don’t you dare—
I didn’t have to turn around to know that Detective Jones was speaking to Pearl and most likely kneeling to give her a small rub down her back or an itch behind her ear. The small—definitely unwelcomed from the familiar’s reaction—diversion allowed me to quickly take my coffee and move to a spot off to the side.
Maybe Pearl was right about bad luck rubbing off from the hex. There was not one table available. I’d wanted to sit close enough to Megan’s table to hear what she had to say to Detective Jones, but that wasn’t going to happen. A quick sweep of the café confirmed my suspicion that I was out luck, but apparently, I did have one option available to me—Knox Emeric was leaning back against his chair with a crooked smile across his lips. It was almost as if he found my plight amusing.
The chair in front of him was empty.
I had a decision to make—join Knox Emeric at his table to remain in the café or leave.
“Jill with a large caramel macchiato,” Tad called out, reminding me that there was more work to be done.
The decision had been taken out of my hands.
Jamie Lehman was still inside the café, along with too many suspects who could be the guilty party in the vision I had regarding her death. I’d have to put aside my suspicion of Knox Emeric long enough to make sure Jamie Lehman was safe for the time being.
I had just been about to walk over to Knox’s table when my phone rang. I didn’t even have to look at the display to know that it was Orwin. He was the only one who ever called me, especially since I hadn’t returned any of my former friends’ calls in the last three months.
“Make it quick,” I murmured, walking around two ladies who were making their way to the line behind Detective Jones. His gaze was still on me, but I’d already answered his follow-up questions last night. That was probably the only reason that Orwin and I hadn’t been called into the station today. “I’m at the café, and let me just say that there’s a lot going on here. You and Piper might want to make your way over here as soon as you can.”
“Did you know that Megan Kirk and Cassie Grier had an argument right before they went into the café last night?” Orwin asked before continuing on in the same breath and not giving me time to answer. “Well, they did, and it was a doozy. According to Heather, the two women were fighting over a man. Are you ready for this? The man they were fighting over was none other than Tad Whitaker.”
Poor Tad. He didn’t even know that Cassie returned his feelings, did he?
Pearl sashayed past me with her tail swaying behind her, but she didn�
�t stroll toward Knox Emeric. Instead, she veered off to head down the small hallway that led to the restrooms and the double doors that led to the storage and office area.
Our dear Jamie just went back to speak with her manager. As you’ve said time and again, she shouldn’t be left alone. I’ll also use the bit of privacy offered to me to cleanse this dog smell that Detective Jones saw fit to leave on practically every single hair on my body. My opinion of that man has drastically changed. I’d originally thought of him as a cat person. Alas, not everyone is perfect.
“Come to the café,” I advised Orwin, pasting a smile on my face when I realized that Knox Emeric was still watching me rather closely. I hope the man couldn’t read lips. “Without the druids cloaking everyone’s thoughts, you should be able to narrow down the suspect pool drastically with who is in here at the moment.”
“We’ll be there in ten minutes or less.”
I disconnected the call and shoved my phone back into my coat pocket. One would think someone would have left the café by now, leaving an open table. No such luck. It appeared that murder was good for business.
“I’m surprised you haven’t left town, Mr. Emeric.” I pulled the chair out from the table a bit, carefully setting down my coffee before making myself comfortable. “Did your conversation with Detective Jones not go well?”
“It went fine, thank you.” Knox studied me while rubbing his five o’clock shadow before slowly leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table. It was as if he’d made some internal decision, and he was debating on whether or not to clue me in on his inner battle. Of course, my assumption was before he gave me a lopsided grin. “I haven’t decided if you like the coffee here or you’re just stalking me.”
Was he flirting with me?
“It could be the other way around,” I countered with a returned smile, wrapping my hand around the coffee cup. The warmth kept me grounded and focused on keeping my wits about me. I didn’t have time for personal relationships, and Knox Emeric wasn’t even my type. “First the gas station, then this café, not to mention the motel. Now we’re back at the scene of the crime, and I still haven’t quite figured out why you’d pick such a small town as Bedford, Pennsylvania, to do an overnight. After all, Wi-Fi is available in other places.”
If the Curse Fits Page 10
