“When was the last time you saw him?” Lori asked Camelia, realizing that the news about Alvin’s murdered hadn’t filtered through to her.
Sniffing and with tears still dripping, Camelia took a moment to compose herself.
“It was right here, where we’re sitting right now.”
“Here? Before he died?” Lori asked, perplexed.
“Yes. I went to his room at the cottage early in the morning. I wanted us to have a talk and see if we could resolve things. He suggested we take a walk here, because he mentioned you’d suggested it to him. I shouldn’t have done it. It was like he’d made up his mind. He kept on talking about how he wanted to change his life and how I didn’t fit into his plans because we weren’t right for each other. I got upset and left. If only I’d stayed with him,” Camelia whimpered and started crying again.
Lori struggled to find the correct words to say, feeling increasingly uneasy. Was Camelia really being truthful, or was she a master of deception? Did she mean what she was saying, or playing some sort of game? How much of what she knew should she share with Camelia? And most of all, should she warn her of Chief Winters’s impending visit?
Suddenly, things weren’t as clear-cut as she’d thought.
She took out her cell phone and looked at the time displayed on the screen. “I’m afraid I have to go, Camelia. Do you want to come with me or stay here for a while?”
“I’ll stay, if you don’t mind,” Camelia said. “Thank you for listening to me whine like this.”
“No worries,” Lori said as she got up. “The fresh air will do you good. Just take care…” She stopped herself from saying there was a murderer on the loose.
Just as she entered the front door of Whitewood Manor, Lori heard Hazel’s familiar voice calling the family to dinner. She made her way to join the others in the dining room.
“We saw you on our way home as you came out of the police station,” Hazel said to Lori after everyone had taken their seats around the dining room table. “You looked all worked up. What was that about?”
“Bob Winters got Alvin’s autopsy report back, so he called me in,” Lori said while dishing herself up a generous helping of Aunt Hazel’s freshly made salmon pie. “The report found Alvin didn’t commit suicide. Rather, he was poisoned.”
Jasmine dropped her knife and fork, and Rosie looked shocked. Hazel, however, was unfazed. “I’m not surprised,” she said. “Looks like that bunch only needs half a reason to kill each other. You should have seen the shouting match between Kermit and one of the competition judges this afternoon.”
For the rest of the dinner, Lori listened to the family speculate on who might have poisoned Alvin. The twins were certain it was the result of some sort of love triangle. Granny Fae was convinced one of the contestants was an evil witch who had cast a nasty spell which drove Alvin to his death. By the time Hazel brought in the nightcaps of honeyed liqueurs, they were all in agreement: everyone at the tournament was a suspect.
Then Lori remembered the letters she’d made a note of at the police station.
“I noticed something strange when I was at the autopsy report meeting,” she said as she took out the paper she had taken from Ray’s desk. “When I took Alvin to the cottage the first time and we talked, he showed me the crossword tattoo he had on his back. I remember wondering why it was blank, and not filled in. Then, when the doctor from the coroner’s office showed us the photos taken of Alvin during the autopsy, there was a word filled in on the top part of the crossword that wasn’t there when he showed me his tattoo.” She put the paper on the table for everyone to see.
MEEKNM
“I memorized the letters and wrote them down. It looks like some sort of anagram. Maybe it’s a clue to who may have killed him.”
Lori took a sip of the liqueur and almost choked on it. She’d just remembered those were the same letters Grandpa Randolph had written when he appeared in her dream the previous night.
“Are you okay?” Hazel asked, rubbing Lori’s back. Lori nodded, unable to speak.
“That’s easy to decipher,” said Rosie, opening her laptop. “I’ll quickly unscramble it for you. There’s a website that Scrabble players use to get ideas for the letters they have to play with.” She tapped in the letters on the paper.
Everyone huddled around her, keen to see what words could be formed from the letters Lori had written down.
“Sorry, but there are no words that contain the letters M, E, E, K, N, and M,” Rosie read off the screen.
After a few more tries, Hazel shook her head. “Doesn’t look like the computer can find any words with those letters.” Rosie switched to a similar website, but that too came out blank.
“Maybe it’s a word in a foreign language,” Jasmine guessed. “But then we could be up here all night looking for a word.”
“Computers, computers. They’re useless,” Granny Fae grumbled. “A decent potion of clearwater will solve that riddle this quick.” And she snapped her fingers.
“That might help,” Lori said slowly, thinking over the considerable implications of drinking a clearwater potion. “I’ve read that it has very severe side effects if incorrectly taken. But taking a few drops probably won’t do any harm.”
“Do we have any blue calcium jelly in stock over at the office?” Jasmine asked, using the code word they all used for the potion. “That’s the most important ingredient in a clearwater potion. Without it, the potion will be about as effective as a glass of water.”
“No, but don’t worry,” Granny Fae pitched in. “I’ll ask Daisy if she has any in her traveling potion bag. She won’t mind helping us out.”
“Mother, who’s Daisy?” Hazel asked.
“Why, she’s Alvin’s mum, of course, the lady staying in Mrs. Barkley’s cottage next door,” Fae said, as if everyone should know who she was talking about. “We’ve had quite a few interesting conversations over the picket fence in the backyard.” She noticed everyone looking at her in surprise. “What, you all didn’t know she’s a witch?”
“I had a hunch she was one,” Lori said. “And I should have known you two would sniff each other out.”
“I’ll speak to her tomorrow and find out,” Fae said, proud of herself for coming up with a solution and one-upping her techno-clever granddaughter. “Two drops of clearwater and that puzzle’s solved.”
Looking a little downcast, Rosie closed her laptop in defeat.
Nick and Lori had agreed to meet the following morning over breakfast at the inn to take stock of the tournament and catch up on administrative details. As Lori brushed her teeth, she thought back on the previous evening. She was blessed to have such a resourceful family that always put their heads together when a challenge presented itself. “Witches stick together,” Granny Fae had taught her long ago, when she was still learning the basics of being a witch. Only now did Lori fully understand what she had meant. Feeling confident and happy, she gave herself her usual big wink in the mirror and got ready to walk to the inn for her meeting with Nick.
She was a few minutes early for their meeting, and to while away the time until Nick arrived, she helped herself to a few pieces of fresh fruit and some toast and cereal from the buffet. As she sat down and started buttering the toast, she noticed Chief Winters come in the door, walk up to the reception and speak to Lindy. Lori guessed he’d probably come to interview to Camelia. She wished she could be a fly on the wall when he talked to her. Would he believe Camelia’s story that the letter she had written to Alvin had been the result of a few too many bloody marys?
Nick arrived twenty minutes later, looking even more worse for wear than when Lori had last seen him.
“I’m so sorry for being late,” Nick said. “I had a meeting with Kermit to put pressure on him to pay the deposit he owes me.”
“And when is he paying?” Lori asked after pouring them both a cup of coffee.
Nick sighed. “I’m getting worried, Lori. He keeps coming up with excuses. He keeps s
aying he’s waiting for a large sum of cash to come in and that I should just be patient.”
“That doesn’t help you much, I’m sure,” Lori said. She was struggling to concentrate on what Nick was saying. Rather, she was burning to know what was happening upstairs in Camelia’s room.
But after a few minutes of talking to Nick, Camelia disappeared from her mind. The two of them were in deep concentration on a spreadsheet they were analyzing when a commotion in the reception area drew their attention. Lori craned her neck and saw several press photographers run towards the elevator doors and jostle for the best positions.
“What are the reporters waiting for?” Nick asked, but Lori hardly heard him. She watched as the elevator opened and Chief Winters appeared, pushing a handcuffed, distraught Camelia ahead of him as the awaiting cameras flashed.
Chapter Eleven
Lori jumped up and hurried to the reception area, but Chief Winters was already out the front door, followed by a pack of photographers, with Ray following close behind them.
“Ray!” He stopped when he saw Lori calling out and running towards him.
“What happened? How come she’s being arrested?” she asked.
“She denied being anywhere near Alvin when he died,” Ray said. “But then the chief went into her bathroom and found this.” He held up a plastic bag containing a hypodermic needle, still filled with a tiny bit of clear liquid. “Seems we’ve found ourselves a murder weapon.”
Lori looked at the bag in disbelief. “Are you sure…?”
“We have to have it tested, obviously, to see if the syringe contains the poison Alvin was killed with, but that won’t take long. Doc Miriam can confirm if it’s the substance they found by using a simple chemical solution.”
Lori rushed outside to see Chief Winters roughly forcing Camelia into his patrol car. Before she disappeared into the car, Camelia looked straight at Lori, her face desperate and full of fear.
“That was easier than I thought,” Chief Winters said, turning to Lori and looking very satisfied with himself. “She was playing hardball, claiming she didn’t mean to kill her ex. But evidence speaks louder than lies.” He took off his dark glasses and winked at Lori. “I’ll be sure to get in touch with you next time we have a murder in town, Miss Marple.” With that, he and Ray got into his patrol car and drove off, leaving Lori standing on the sidewalk with a swarm of reporters and cameramen surrounding her.
As Lori turned slowly to walk back inside, someone grabbed her arm.
“Miss, do you think Camelia Ashbury is guilty of murder?”
Lori turned her face away as a photographer pointed his camera at her and pressed the shutter several times.
“I… I don’t know,” Lori said, looking down.
The reporter didn’t let up.
“Rumors are that she threatened to kill Alvin Parkinson. Is that true?”
Lori broke loose from his grip and ran back inside, almost knocking over Kermit, who was talking to a suave looking man immaculately dressed a pinstripe suit and carrying a black briefcase.
“Sorry, Kermit, I didn’t see you,” Lori apologized. “The reporters outside were hounding me and I had to get away from them in a hurry.”
“I hope you’re happy with yourself now.” Kermit’s voice was like an icy wind when he spoke. “We may well have to pull the plug on this whole thing. You’ve succeeded in ruining the tournament’s image. I expect soon my phone will be ringing off the hook with sponsors cancelling their contracts. I assure you when this is over…” He took a step closer to Lori.
The man in the pinstripe suit took Kermit’s arm and pulled him away. “Calm down, Kermit. Let’s get to the police station and talk to the arresting officers.”
“This gentleman here is Keith Broadway,” Kermit said, gesturing at the man pulling him away from her. He’s my lawyer, and if you don’t know him by reputation, you’ll soon will be getting to know him real well.”
With her heart in her shoes, Lori watched the two men leave. A feeling of despair washed over her. She was sinking deeper and deeper into a dilemma she could no longer make sense of.
“Lori! Lori!”
Lori tried hard to focus on the voice behind her calling her name.
“Are you okay, Lori? Should I call a doctor?”
She steadied herself by holding on to the reception counter and tried hard to stop the room from spinning. She shook her head.
“Lori, look at me. What happened?”
Finally the image of Nick standing next to her swam into focus.
“Just help me sit down, Nick,” Lori said, and Nick walked her to a chair in the lounge. “Did you see Camelia get arrested just now?”
Nick fetched her a glass of water and handed it to her. “No, I only came in afterwards. Did she get arrested for killing Alvin?”
Lori drank the water down before answering. “The police found a syringe in her room filled with what looks like the stuff that killed Alvin. That together with the threatening letter points to her having done it, yes.”
Nick look surprised. “I would never have thought so. She came to me yesterday to get a new key card, saying she lost the one she had. We spoke about Alvin, and she sounded very shook up by his death.”
“Either that or she’s a very good actor,” Lori said, feeling much better after having a drink of water.
Apparently satisfied that Lori was going to be fine, Nick excused himself, leaving Lori trying to make sense out of the unfolding mystery. Somehow the pieces of the puzzle didn’t quite fit. Who had added the tattoos to Alvin’s back, and when? Was it some sort of warped act of revenge done by Camelia? She hoped Fae had gotten some blue calium jelly from Daisy so they could prepare a potion of clearwater tonight. Hopefully that’d help make sense of the anagram.
A buzzing noise inside Lori’s bag drew her attention. It sounded like Alvin’s phone. Probably the pool service this time, Lori thought as she answered.
“Hello, this is Alvin Parkinson’s phone. Who is this?”
There was a moment’s silence, then a male voice spoke.
“Hello, this is George Hazard. I’m an investment advisor. Who am I speaking to, please?” the voice said.
“This is Lori Whitewood speaking. I’m sorry, but Alvin Parkinson’s deceased,” Lori said. “If you’re phoning to sell him a financial service, I’m afraid you’re too late. Anyway, it’s a really bad time to speak right now. Goodbye.”
She was busy replacing the phone in her bag when it rang once more. It was George Hazard again. He spoke rapidly as soon as she answered.
“Please, don’t hang up, Ms. Whitewood. I’m not selling insurance. On the contrary, I represent the Flattery Insurance Company, by whom Alvin Parkinson was insured. I just heard about Alvin’s death on the radio. I was sort of hoping Kermit Greenstone would answer his phone, because it’s him I’d like to speak to.”
“Kermit’s not here right now. Can I give him a message?” The last thing Lori wanted to do now was speak to Kermit. It would be best to let him cool down a little before she talked to him again.
“Just please tell him I’ll be in town to settle a few things. What did you say your name was?”
“It’s Lori speaking.”
“Oh, hi, Lori. Sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances. Alvin spoke highly of you the last time he and I had contact, just before he passed on. I understand you helped him out of a tight corner. He said you were a person he could trust,” George said.
“The only thing I did was to organize alternative accommodations for him,” Lori said. “It was hardly any trouble.”
“I don’t suppose he told you about the life insurance policies he and Kermit had taken out. It was part of their business arrangement.”
Lori was taken aback that George would divulge personal information like that to her. “We’d hardly met, so I don’t think so, no.”
“Yes, they did, and that’s why I need to meet with Kermit. Seeing that you are a person Alvin truste
d, I’d appreciate it if you were present at the meeting. You’ll understand why when you’re there.”
“I guess so,” Lori said reluctantly, and she hung up. Kermit wasn’t her favorite human being, and she didn’t want to be involved with any more intrigue. Why did she need to be at the meeting anyway? This was none of her business.
It had been a long, tiring day and Lori was fast asleep by nine that night. She’d been asleep for an hour when she awoke slowly, a blinding revolving light shining in her eyes from outside the window. She tried to ignore it at first, but then she heard the crackling of a police radio. She got up and looked out the window.
Chief Winters’s patrol car was parked in front of Mrs. Barkley’s house, its rooftop light slowly revolving and bathing the street in an eerie glow.
She leaned back onto the pillows, certain Mrs. Barkley was at it again. She had a habit of calling the police at all hours to chase away feral cats caterwauling on her roof. But then she remembered who was staying in the cottage behind the house, and she jumped up and hurried to the front door.
Standing on the Whitewood Manor front porch, she could see the lights of the cottage were on. Chief Winters was standing in the doorway with Mrs. Barkley by his side. Barefoot and in her nightgown, Lori hastened to the cottage.
“What happened?” Lori asked as soon as she was within earshot. “Is she okay?”
Potions and Puzzles Page 10
