“It’s locked in another location.”
“We’re supposed be given access to all evidence, remember?”
“What a waste of a witch you are,” Maria growled. “You must admit at some point that your aunt is guilty.”
Petunia stepped forward. “I won’t see her falsely accused.”
“Have you ever thought that there is more to your aunt than meets the eye? That she’s withholding information about why she really went to see Marta that day?” Estelle asked.
Petunia pursed her lips. She was quite aware that Estelle was trying to open a rift between her and Aunt Maxine, but she wouldn’t allow her to cause her to doubt her aunt. She’d taken care of Petunia since she was twelve after her parents died in a car accident. She didn’t push anything witch-like on her and she had only recently acknowledged that Petunia was a witch.
“Do you deny that you told my aunt that she was the only suspect, and that you’d see her brought to justice?”
“Of course I did. The detective found no other suspects.”
“Is he still here? I’d like to speak to him.”
“Sorry. He returned to Greenville after he gave me his report.”
Petunia folded her arms across her chest. “Can I see his report?”
“No you can’t,” Maria sneered. “This is one case you’ll lose.”
“I’m not an attorney, Maria. Of course if you won’t allow me to see the report I’ll simply have to take the matter to the board of directors.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Estelle shouted.
“I certainly would,” Petunia shot back. “As I see it, you’re the only viable suspect in Marta’s death.”
“You can’t threaten me. The board will side with me. You’ll see.”
“Do you really want to gamble? I ask because I met with them and they seem fair and reasonable.”
“Then how is it Iris was found guilty and imprisoned?”
“I’m sure you had a hand in that.”
“Think what you like, but get out of my quarters, now!”
Petunia reluctantly moved to the door, but she fully intended to make good on her threat. Was Estelle willing to risk being forced to provide the full evidence to the board?
At the elevator Noah asked, “Do you really think going to the board of directors is wise?”
“How else will we be able to see that report? I’m also concerned about the whereabouts of the detective. Am I the only one who thinks it’s odd he went home so soon? He arrived the same day we did!”
They made their way through the hotel and to the adjacent building that housed the board. Noah held open the door and they met a young, dark-haired woman with an intense look on her face.
“The board isn’t here now,” she exclaimed.
“Who says we’re here to see the board?”
“Estelle called.”
“I see, and you’re sure they’re not here.”
“Yes. They went for a yacht ride with a few of the witch candidates. They like to do that.”
“Why wasn’t I invited? I’m a candidate.”
“I can’t say, but perhaps if you come back tomorrow they’ll be here. Of course, your audition is tomorrow, so I imagine you’ll have other things on your mind.”
Petunia fumed now. “Thank you,” Noah said as he led Petunia outside. “Listen, I know you’re upset about this, but there’s not much else we can do,” he told her.
She nodded sadly and then glanced at her watch. “I wonder if Estelle has calmed down yet.”
Noah laughed. “Do you really think so after the way you carried on?”
“I was only trying to get that report. I suppose I could have handled it better.” Petunia sighed. “If we go back now, she might be in better spirits.”
Noah glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly six. Didn’t you say you were planning to speak with Pricilla?”
“Yes. With everything going on I had forgotten all about that. We certainly need to speak with her. She might have information we desperately need.”
They walked arm in arm back to the hotel, where a porter directed them to the parlor dining room where Pricilla waited. She was dressed in brown slacks and striped sweater, sensible shoes on her feet. The non-witch ensemble surprised Petunia.
“Hello. I was wondering when you two would show up,” Pricilla said with a smile. “Please have a seat, I’m sure you both have questions you want answered.”
“We do, but you weren’t so receptive earlier,” Petunia said.
“The thing is, I’d rather not be questioned, but it’s reasonable that you’d be curious with the way everyone talks about me.” She rang a bell, alerting a server who came into the parlor with glasses of lemonade for each of them. She waited until the young woman left and said, “I didn’t want to appear weak in front of my niece. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“I know. My aunt and her friends called you a bad witch.”
“I imagine they did, but it’s all for naught. I’ve pulled out my wand on occasion, but I never intended to put a spell on anyone. They were more veiled threats.”
Petunia could understand that. “Well, I can’t imagine you’re a horrible witch if you’ve been nominated for Grand Witch so many times.”
Pricilla took a sip of her lemonade. “That’s never been my intent, but the board of directors has other ideas.”
“So you never wanted the position?” Noah asked.
“Not at all. So you can scratch me off your list of suspects. At the time of Marta’s death, I wasn’t even in Witchataw. I arrived around dinner time.”
“Did you come in by boat?”
“Yes, the yacht.”
“Oh, so there really is a yacht? We were told the board of directors left on it with some candidates. Does that sound normal to you?”
“There’s nothing normal in Witchataw.”
Petunia smiled. She actually liked Pricilla and she was certainly shocked to discover that she was quite nice. “How well did you know Marta?”
“She was a nice woman, but Estelle didn’t make her job easy. She had a habit of barging into Marta’s office whenever she felt like it.”
“Really? Why?”
“The most recent time Estelle claimed she had faxed Marta and she didn’t receive a response, so she came to check her printer. Lo and behold, it hasn’t worked since.”
“And the copier in her secretary’s office?”
“Estelle broke that one, too, but that was so she could have an excuse to come back to ask for forms she needed printed.”
“Why would she do that if the copiers and printers were broken?”
“So the secretary would have to go elsewhere to copy them, leaving her office vulnerable for Maria’s snooping.”
“What was she snooping for?”
Pricilla paused as the server brought in their dinner -- grilled trout with lemon wedges, and a hearty salad. When they were once again alone, she said, “I have no idea what they were trying to do, but I imagine they were attempting to discredit Marta in some way.”
“Well, we originally thought the secretary was sent out of the office so the killer had the chance to murder Marta.”
“That sounds reasonable. And it might be the reason your aunt happened upon Marta’s body.”
“I just don’t understand why my aunt would be blamed for Marta’s murder.”
“Estelle doesn’t care for your aunt. At least, it appeared that way judging by how she talked about Maxine after returning from Lake Forest and beginning to lose her hair.”
“That’s not my aunt’s fault,” Petunia insisted. “I made that potion. I’m supposed to make the antidote to be allowed into Witches Affairs.”
“But you don’t want to join.”
“Not really, but if I had been nicer to Estelle and Maria, they might not have blamed my aunt. My aunt was summoned here. I’m sure she had planned to explain to Marta why she withdrew from Witches Affairs.”
“I wasn’t s
ure she had withdrawn.”
“Yes. Estelle told my aunt that if I declined to become a member that she’d no longer be able to speak to me. We’re very close. Aunt Maxine raised me after my parents died.”
Pricilla lifted her fork. “I don’t recall that specific rule, but I’ll check with the board. Is there anything else you need to know about?”
“We’re concerned about Detective Winslow. He was here investigating, but now he’s nowhere to be found. Estelle claims he gave her his report, but she refuses to allow us to see it. I have one ace up my sleeve, but I’d hate to threaten her again.”
Pricilla took a bite of the trout. “Threaten how?”
“I told her I was going to the board about the report because we’re supposed to have access to all information.”
“And that’s when you found out they were on the yacht?”
Petunia put a finger under her nose when the fragrance of dill wafted to her from the fish on her plate. She felt the sneeze building, and jumped up and headed for the door. Before she made it out, she sneezed a cloud of bubbles.
Pricilla laughed. “Oh, my. However did you get that ailment?”
“Liquid bubbles dripped into my tea. It comes and goes. It can be hard to cover up at times.”
“There hasn’t been a bubble witch in a long time. Embrace it.”
“It can be bothersome at home, though. The town doesn’t care for witches as it is.”
“You should consider moving to Witchataw.”
“I could never do that. I love Lake Forest and all my friends there.”
“And they need our crime-solving talents.” Noah laughed.
“So this handsome man is your husband?”
“We’re dating when we’re not investigating.”
“So, taking it slow. Smart move. You really can’t trust mortals.” She winked.
“I’m still trying to get accustomed to dating a witch, or wrapping my head around the fact that they really exist,” Noah said. “It’s a real eye-opener here in Witchataw.”
“I image. So have you decided whether you’ll join Witches Affairs yet, Petunia?”
“I think I should, but I hate thinking about making an antidote for witch baldness.” She smiled.
“It would be best for all of us.”
“I had planned to hold the potion over their heads so I could get my hands on that report.”
“I’ll be happy to help you out, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. We’ll be too busy tonight.”
“Why, what’s happening tonight?”
“I’m taking you to the prison so you can interview Iris. I’m just as curious as you two are about why she’s there when the other Grand Witches supposedly died accidentally.”
“Accidentally? How?”
“Well, Sue had been known to keep a radio on the side of her tub and there was no talking to her about it.”
“And it fell into the bathtub?” Petunia asked.
“Yes, and then there was Mary. She tripped over the hem of her long skirt and down the stairs. And lastly, Anna was found hanging with a cord around her neck. A very freak accident,” Pricilla claimed. “She was hanging Christmas lights at the time.”
Petunia had trouble believing it all. “But why would they find Iris guilty and put her into prison?”
“I have no idea. I’m just as curious about that as you are.”
Chapter Fourteen
After dinner Pricilla led them to the end of the hallway and through a door that led to a set of narrow stairs leading downward. The air became colder as they descended, and an oily fragrance drifted up Petunia’s nostrils. “What is that smell?”
“You’ll see,” Pricilla said.
Petunia understood when they were at the bottom of the stairs, and she pulled closer to Noah. She stared at the carved rock corridors that ran in many different directions, lined with rails. An ore car stood at the ready. “Is this a mineshaft?”
“It’s an underground transportation system that’s the only way to the prison,” Pricilla said.
“And we’re supposed to ride in that?” Petunia asked with a shudder, pointing at the ore car.
“Not exactly. That’s here more to create the illusion of an actual mineshaft in case a curious witch wanders down here by mistake.” Pricilla walked to the rock wall and pulled a lever. With a roar, a car backed along the rails, pushing against the ore car enough that it moved out of their way.
Pricilla opened the door of the car. It had no top, but contained cushioned velvet seats. It took everything in her for Petunia to get into the car, and she nearly hyperventilated by the time she was seated.
“Are you claustrophobic?” Pricilla asked.
“No. But I prefer to not travel by car.”
“Why?”
“She thinks there’s a curse on her family because so many of them died in accidents,” Noah explained.
“Oh, so that’s how your parents died?”
Petunia gripped the sides of the car until her knuckles whitened. “Yes.”
“I have to admit that this car moves quite fast, but I assure you that nobody has ever been killed on these tracks. We need to reach the prison before it gets any later.”
“I-I’ll be fine.”
Pricilla pushed a button and the car coasted down the tracks, gaining speed until it zipped along. Petunia was certain that she’d die at any moment, but she couldn’t shut her eyes. That would only make it worse.
Noah put his arm around Petunia, and she buried her face in his chest, inhaling his musky fragrance. At least now she had something to take her mind off barreling down the tracks.
Petunia lost track of the twists and turns, and after a time Pricilla pulled back on a stick, and with as screeching of the wheels the car gradually came to a full stop at a station. Two women dressed in gray uniforms with badges helped them out.
“Are you expected?” one of them asked.
“No. The board isn’t available to call down here,” Pricilla said. “But we’re here to visit Iris.”
“I’ll have to call the warden.”
One of the women went to a small booth, presumably to make the call, while the other watched them. When the other guard returned, she said, “You’ll be escorted to see the warden now.”
They followed the other guard and approached the prison carved out of the rock. An iron gate opened and they walked up an iron gangway until they were inside. Now another guard led them into a room where guards frisked them before showing them into an office where a dark-haired woman sat behind a desk.
“I can’t believe it’s you, Pricilla,” the woman said. “Why on earth do you want to speak with Iris?”
“We’d like to question her in regard to a murder,” Petunia said.
“I have no idea what good speaking to Iris will possibly do. I hope you won’t upset her. She’s finally calmed down and accepted her plight.”
“Plight?” Petunia asked with a frown.
“I’d appreciate if you could have her meet us in a sound-proof room, one that isn’t bugged. I think you should know by now that I can be trusted,” Pricilla said.
“Is this normal protocol for visiting prisoners?” Petunia asked.
“It is when they’re accused of killing three grand witches.” The warden made a call requesting that Iris be brought to a room as Pricilla requested.
Another guard walked into the room, this one on the big side for a woman. Not plump, but about six feet tall. They followed her along a lighted hallway flanked by steel doors, and through a recreation room where the guard opened another door. They walked inside to find an older woman eating strawberry shortcake.
“We’re sorry we bothered you during dessert,” Pricilla said.
Iris didn’t even look up as she asked, “Who are they?”
“Investigators. They’re trying to clear Maxine Patterson, who is accused of murdering the Grand Witch.”
“Marta? How did she die?” Iris asked now glancing up at them
as she licked her spoon.
“We’re not certain yet. The coroner seems to be confused about it,” Petunia said. “He first told us she was stabbed through the heart with a pen, but Noah here disputed his findings.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, but I hope you haven’t spoken to anyone about it other than Doctor Baldwin. It’s important to release your finding’s only to the board once you’re certain about who killed Marta.”
“Why would anyone other than Estelle or Maria want to kill a Grand Witch?”
“I could tell you why, but I’m sure my opinion won’t carry any weight.” She smiled, revealing missing teeth. “They’re searching for the missing spell book.”
“Why is that a reason to kill a Grand Witch? Why not search her office while she’s elsewhere?”
“That’s an interesting response. I never said the missing book was in the Grand Witch’s office.”
Petunia swallowed hard, but she wasn’t sure how honest she should be. “I just assumed it was since a few people have been snooping in Marta’s office after her murder.”
“I’m no fool, girl. If you know something, you had better spill your guts.”
“I came here to ask you why you’re in prison. You couldn’t have killed those Grand Witches if what Pricilla said is true.”
“Were all the deaths accidents?” Noah asked.
“Oh, so handsome speaks,” Iris said. “Yes, but you can’t convince Estelle of that, and the board believes every word that woman says.”
“But it’s not right,” Petunia said.
“As long as Estelle is still running the show, it’s better for me to be here.”
“How do you know Estelle is in charge?” Noah asked.
“She’s taken over every time a Grand Witch has died.”
“I bet she thought that if she showed the board what a good job she does that she’d be a shoo-in for the next election,” Petunia said. “But she was never elected.”
“Of course she hasn’t been elected. She’s not well liked among the witches,” Iris explained, “and unfortunately, I was a little too vocal about it.”
“Giving Estelle a good reason to get you out of the way,” Petunia added.
“Surely you weren’t the only person to tell her that?” Noah said.
Meows, Magic & Missing (Lake Forest Witches Book 3) Page 12
