A Potion to Die For: A Magic Potion Mystery

by blake, heather

  “Could be,” Ainsley said. “But what if she bites? What’s the next step?”

  “To stake out Nelson’s house, of course. If she’s guilty of the embezzlement, she’ll want to know what that report says. Do you want to go on the stakeout with me?” I set my bags into the back of the Jeep.

  “As much fun as that sounds, I don’t think I can. It’s family night tonight. But you’ll fill me in?”

  “Definitely.”

  As we climbed into the Jeep, I spotted Dudley and Emmylou coming out of the pharmacy. Emmylou still wore that same bright smile, and Dudley looked more ill than ever.

  Again, I wondered about the father of Angelea’s baby.

  And if Coach had any idea that his wife was carrying someone else’s child . . .

  Because if he did know and had gone into a jealous rage, that might explain how the sleep potion I’d given Angelea had come to be poisoned.

  It had been meant for Angelea—to kill her.

  But that still didn’t explain how Nelson had ended up drinking the potion.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The phone was ringing as I walked into the house after dropping off Ainsley. I set my bags on the counter and grabbed up the receiver.

  “It’s Dylan,” he said.

  The tone of his voice set me immediately on edge. “What’s wrong?”

  “Coach escaped from the jail.”

  My stomach plummeted. “He what?”

  “He went ballistic when he found out that his getting arrested again would revoke his original bail and send him back to jail until his trial. He overpowered one of the guards and took off. We have men looking for him, but I wanted to let you know right away.”

  My hands began to sweat. I knew why Dylan had called—he feared that Coach would come after me again.

  I feared the same thing.

  I was also afraid he’d go after Angelea. “You need to send someone to warn Angelea as well.”

  “Warn her why?”

  “I think she was the one the poisoned potion was meant for.”

  “Because it was in the bottle she bought?”

  “No,” I said. “Because she’s pregnant with someone else’s baby.”

  There was a long pause on his side of the line before he said, “You’d better explain.”

  I told him about Angelea’s and my conversation earlier, what had happened at the pharmacy, and how I’d read Angelea’s energy and confirmed her pregnancy.

  “Is it possible the baby is Coach’s?” he asked.

  “Angelea told me that he couldn’t have children because of a complication of his diabetes.”

  “But maybe that diagnosis is wrong. After all, she did get pregnant once before.”

  Right after high school graduation, which was why she and Coach married in the first place. “Supposedly. Don’t you remember the rumors that she faked that pregnancy to trap him? Plus, she told me it had been many months since she and Coach . . .” My face heated. “You know. The baby’s energy is only that of a one-or two-month-old fetus.”

  “I’ll go see Angelea myself about the coach situation. You may want to spend the night at your parents’ place.”

  “And put them in danger? I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t be stubborn about this, Carly. Coach is dangerous.”

  As if I needed the reminder. “I’ll find somewhere to go.”

  “Do it soon, Care Bear. I’ll be in touch.”

  I hung up, my nerves on edge. Where on earth was I going to go? I didn’t want to put anyone I knew in danger, but I also couldn’t stay here.

  As I headed upstairs to pack a bag there was a knock on the back door. I froze, momentarily scared that Coach had come knocking, but then I realized how ridiculous that was. I spun and went back into the kitchen. I swished aside the curtain and was very surprised to see the woman standing on my back steps.

  The look on her face was more sad than menacing, so I cautiously opened the door. “Miz Morris? What’re you doing here?” I kept my tone firm and used my body to block the doorway so she couldn’t force her way inside. I hoped she hadn’t come here to do her brother’s dirty work.

  “I heard what happened earlier, between Floyd and you, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. It’s not like Floyd to be so . . .” She shook her head. “He’s not himself these days.”

  I grabbed onto my locket, letting it warm in my palm. I assumed she hadn’t heard about the jailbreak yet, and she probably hadn’t considered that he might have tried to kill his wife. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “And I wanted to give you this,” she said, holding out her hand, palm up. A silver key rested against pale skin.

  “What’s that?”

  “The key to Nelson’s house.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t really expect you to.” She looked off to the distance, then refocused on me. “I worry with Floyd’s arrest this afternoon that the police will stop looking for any other suspects in Nelson’s death and pin the murder on Floyd.”

  “Why would they do that?” I asked.

  “Because it’s the easy thing to do,” she sneered. Beady eyes narrowed on me. “You made me an offer this morning. I’d like to take you up on it. I’d understand if you have no desire to prove Floyd is innocent, but, as you said, if he is innocent, someone else is getting away with embezzlement . . . and murder. Nelson kept all his important files and papers at home, hidden under the floorboard in his bedroom. They’re locked in a safe, so you’ll have to figure out how to get it open. I didn’t tell the police because . . .”

  I could easily follow her train of thought. “What if it turns out that Coach is guilty of one crime or the other. Or both?”

  Her lips pursed. “My first inclination is to protect him, but if he’s truly guilty, then I suppose he has to face those consequences.”

  I wondered if his altercation with me this afternoon had changed her opinion of her brother, because as of this morning, she had been steadfast in her belief of his innocence. “Why not tell the police now? Why give this to me?”

  “I’m afraid that if you find that handwriting report and it proves that it wasn’t Floyd’s signature on those checks, then they’ll hide the evidence to wrap up this case.”

  “Dylan Jackson is as honest as honest can be,” I said. “He’d never bend the law like that.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not trusting many these days. Take it,” she said, holding out the key.

  “Why don’t you go yourself?”

  Suddenly tears filled her eyes. “I can’t go in there, knowing what happened to him. . . . I have to go. Maybe it was a mistake coming here. I just didn’t know where else to turn.” She spun to leave.

  I stepped outside. “Give me the key.”

  Wordlessly, she handed it to me and then walked quickly away. I watched her go for a few minutes before going back into the house.

  I stared at the key I held.

  It could possibly be the key to solving this whole case.

  Or, my cynical side warned, it could be the key to setting a trap for me.

  I’d have to be careful.

  Very careful.

  • • •

  I called my parents to let them know what was going on, then packed a bag, dropped Roly and Poly off at Mr. Dunwoody’s (he’d graciously agreed to keep them for me), and headed for the Ring. My housing options were limited, but I finally decided where I’d be safest.

  But first, a stop a Déjà Brew, then the market.

  I needed provisions.

  The bell on the door jangled when I entered, and when Jessa looked up her eyes flew open wide. She rushed right over to me and wrapped me in a hug.

  “I heard what happened earlier.” She held me at arm’s length. “You okay, darlin’?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little bruised.”

  She shook her head. “I’d never have thought it of Coach. He’s done lost his mind.” She settled me in a chair. “Cof
fee?”

  I nodded. “And some treats to go. Lots of them.”

  Bribery never hurt anyone, and I planned to use the goodies to help my cause. I wasn’t entirely sure that I’d be welcomed at the place I wanted to stay tonight.

  The news that Coach had broken out of jail obviously hadn’t hit town yet, as Jessa hadn’t pumped me for information, and there was no hum beneath the usual chatter. I, however, was very aware. My leg jiggled nervously, and I moved my seat to face the door. As I adjusted, I felt a pinch in my pocket from the charm Delia had given to me earlier.

  I was at odds with myself for not having thrown it away.

  A hex was a hex, and I’d vowed never to use them.

  But protection was protection, and with Coach out of jail, I couldn’t be too careful.

  If push came to shove, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to use it. And if that was the case, the hex was more dangerous to me carrying it around than not. Because it gave me a false sense of security.

  From behind the counter, Jessa gathered up treats and said, “Talk is going around town that Coach might have had something to do with Nelson’s death, after all. I personally don’t believe it. But do you think that’s true?”

  “I don’t know, Jessa. I honestly don’t know what to think.”

  Her eyebrows dipped. “It makes no sense to me if it was him. And why kill Nelson in your shop? Surely not because of a ten-year-old grudge.”

  I shrugged. I really didn’t know. Nothing made sense.

  “I haven’t been hearing too much else. Nothing about any girlfriend Nelson may have had. And no one with any beefs against him, either.”

  I was starting to get a headache. “My coffee, Jessa?”

  “Oh! Coming right up, darlin’.”

  The bells rang out on the door, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Caleb Montgomery rushed in, his gaze landing on me immediately. He dragged a hand over his dark hair and let out a breath.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Worry filled his blue eyes as he sat across from me.

  “You found me.” I fidgeted, unable to sit still with the way my nerves were acting up.

  He leaned in. “You heard about Coach?”

  I nodded.

  “You need somewhere to stay? I have that cabin in the woods. . . .”

  “Thanks,” I said, “but I think I have a place here in town.”

  “Where?”

  I told him.

  He leaned back and laughed. “You’re serious?”

  “No one will think to look for me there. Especially Coach. He’s not the brightest bulb.”

  “Don’t underestimate him, Carly.”

  No, I shouldn’t. I’d done that before, and I hated to think of that outcome if Emmylou and Dylan hadn’t been around. I’m not sure at all that my stapler would have done a bit of good against his hard head.

  “Why not get a hotel room out of town?” he asked.

  “I have something to do tonight.”

  “Like what? You shouldn’t be out and about with Coach on the loose.”

  I bit my nail. “Can I ask you a legal question?”

  Rolling his eyes, he said, “Dear Lord, Carly. What are you planning?”

  “Is it considered breaking and entering if you have a key?”

  He thumbed a crumb from the Formica tabletop. “Do you have permission to enter the house?”

  “By the owner?”

  “Of course. Who else?”

  “No, not the owner, seeing as he’s dead.”

  Caleb held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to come with me tonight?”

  “To break into Nelson’s house? No. I’d like to keep my law license, thank you.”

  “Is it breaking in, though? I have a key.”

  “Yes, it’s breaking in if he didn’t give you permission!”

  Jessa appeared and set a big bag down on the table, along with a to-go cup of coffee, its lid askew. She squeezed Caleb’s shoulder and said, “Your usual?”

  He shook his head. “Actually, I can’t stay.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows. “Hot date?”

  “A blind date,” he said. “So I don’t know about hot.”

  “You should let me set you up,” I said.

  “No,” he answered, standing up.

  I looked up at Jessa. “He knows I’ll have him married with babies in no time.”

  He shuddered.

  Jessa laughed. “There are worse things.”

  “Death, maybe,” he said. “Listen, Carly, if your plans don’t work out for tonight, call me, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.” I gave him a salute.

  He scowled and walked out.

  “Do you have a hot date, too?” Jessa asked. “With Dylan?”

  “No,” I said, pulling money from my wallet. “And what was with sending him over to my place?”

  She smiled slyly. “You’re not the only one who can matchmake around here, Carly Hartwell.”

  “You’re wasting your time.”

  “We’ll see about that. We’ll just see about that.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The house I stood in front of was tucked into a clearing surrounded by dark woods on all sides. The home itself, though, looked the picture of quaint mountain living. It was small one-story post-and-beam home with a steep-pitched roof dotted with skylights. It had a large stone chimney on one side and a screened porch on the other, and flowering shrubs and plants filled the front garden with color. The late-day sun added an extra golden glow everywhere I looked.

  I could hear the rushing water of the Darling River behind the house as I parked Bessie Blue in front of a small black SUV and grabbed the bags out of the basket on the front of the bike. I hitched my overnight bag onto my shoulder, followed a stone path to the front door, and knocked.

  Yapping filled the air as an icy blue eye peeked out the front door’s sidelight. I thought I saw that eye roll just before the door swung open.

  “What are you doing here?” Delia asked, scowling.

  She wore long black lounge pants and a black tank top, and I was beginning to wonder if she owned anything of color. Her locket swung slightly and she took hold of it, wrapping her long, slim fingers around the silver orb.

  Boo bounded outside and danced around my feet. At least one of them liked me. “I thought it was time I got to know my cousin a little bit better.” I held up a bag. “I brought fixin’s for supper. Steak and potatoes and corn on the cob. I’ll cook. And Jessa sent cake for dessert.”

  She leaned against the doorframe as I bent to pet Boo’s head. “What are you really doing here?” she asked.

  I straightened. “Coach Butts attacked me earlier and was arrested, but he broke out of jail about an hour ago. I need somewhere safe to stay tonight in case he comes after me again, and I can’t imagine he—or anyone—would think to look for me here. Can I stay the night?”

  As she bit a nail, she searched my face.

  I was beginning to wonder if she was about to slam the door on me when she said, “What kind of cake?”

  “Triple chocolate fudge.”

  She held open the door. “Come on in.”

  Cautiously I followed her inside, Boo hot on my heels. Delia closed the door and took the food bags from my hands.

  I found myself frozen in place, staring. The house was much bigger than it appeared from the outside. Like most post and beams, a popular design in this area, it was an open layout, with the living room blending into the kitchen, a small dining room, and a sun porch. A short hallway disappeared off to my left and probably led to one or two bedrooms and a bath.

  The space was cool, light, and bright. The skylights let in plenty of sunshine, and most everything within the house, except the wooden floor and the beams, was crisp white. It was stunning. Absolutely beautiful in its serenity and peacefulness.

  “What’s wrong with you? Why are you just standing there?” Delia ask
ed. “You have supper to make.”

  “It’s nothing. You just keep surprising me, that’s all. Next thing I know, you’re going to tell me that you don’t even have a broomstick that flies.”

  “Flying broomsticks are so last century, Carly. Get with it.”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get over this. I thought for sure you lived in a dark, Dracula-type castle and slept in a coffin.”

  There was a hint of a smile on her face as she said, “You haven’t seen my bedroom yet.”

  I thought I knew her well, but clearly I didn’t know her at all. “Well, there’s plenty of time for that. Except I do need to go out later.” I was banking on Angelea Butts breaking into Nelson’s house after dark. If she had already gone there, I was going to be sorely put out.

  She set the bags onto a pale granite countertop in the kitchen. “Well, that makes two of us who’re surprised. You’re not exactly someone I’d ever thought to find on my doorstep.”

  I swallowed what little pride I had and said, “Thanks for taking me in.”

  She unpacked the bags. “Don’t make more out of it than it is. I was hungry. No human I know can resist Jessa’s triple chocolate fudge cake.”

  I was about to make a crack regarding my doubts about Delia being human, but in light of her opening her home to me, I held my tongue. A small miracle. I helped her unpack groceries. “Your house is gorgeous.”

  I bet she didn’t have critters chewing her wiring.

  “Thanks. Where do you have to go tonight?”

  “I could tell you,” I said, “but then you might be charged as an accessory or coconspirator or something if I get caught. It probably wouldn’t make me a very good houseguest if I got you arrested.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re serious?”

  I nodded.

  “Is this about Coach Butts? Are you going to burn down his house?”

  I set my jaw. “No, I am not going to burn down his house.”

  “You don’t need to take that tone. It’s not like you haven’t done it before. I heard about that one chapel you burned down.”

  “That was an accident!”

  “If you say so.” She set the steak in a glass dish and sprinkled the meat with seasonings. “Do you want to cook this inside or out on the barbecue?”