by Morgana Best
I grabbed that wrist with my right hand. “You’re not as strong as I am now!” I said.
We grappled. I still had my left hand on her wrist, keeping her from plunging the syringe into my flesh.
“Freeze!” a voice yelled. Two men pulled Amanda off me. It was Kelly and Jones. They had bits of wattle and bottlebrush sticking from their hair.
Jones pulled me to my feet. “Are you all right?”
I didn’t know whether I was all right or not. I felt like I was going into shock now that the struggle was over. I was shaking so hard that my teeth were chattering. Jones helped me to the bottom step, while Kelly put cuffs on Amanda. “How did you know I was here?” I asked him as best I could, fighting the rising nausea.
“We were following Ms. Wayland,” he said. “She was a suspect, and after you told us that she’d said her brother was tied up, we knew it was her for sure. We hadn’t released that information.”
I nodded.
Jones was still speaking. “We followed her here, parked next to her car, and then walked down the trail and hid in the bushes to see what she’d do. We heard her confession.”
I jumped to my feet. “What? So you were hiding there the whole time she was threatening to kill me? And when she nearly jabbed me with that needle?”
Jones had the grace to look shame-faced. “You were in no danger at all,” he said. “We were right there.”
“Hmpf!” was my only reply.
Chapter 25
“Prudence!” Barbara let out a high-pitched squeal as she launched herself through my door. “Oh my gosh! Are you okay?”
I gasped as the air was squashed out of my lungs. I must have let out a small squeak, because Barbara only hugged me all the more tightly and stroked my hair in what she must have thought to be a soothing manner. “Shhh! It’s okay! We’re here for you now. It must have been so frightening!”
“Not half as frightening as being comforted to death by a human boa constrictor,” I said. I tried to disengage. It took great effort not to get a mouthful of Barbara’s hair when I gulped a pitiable gasp of air. “I’m fine! Really!”
“You don’t sound fine at all!” Barbara held me at arm’s length. “You don’t have to play tough with us, Prudence. We’re here for you!”
Constance’s voice chimed in, “Happy New Year, ladies!” The woman strutted in, giant bags raised dramatically over her head as she posed in the doorway. She beamed in triumph as she brandished them in front of me. “And I bring all your favorite foods. I just know you have to be starving for some decent food.”
“No, you don’t!” Barbara said as she released me and blocked Constance’s entrance. “I told you that I was bringing pasta for dinner!”
“And I told you that she doesn’t need all that gluten right after the scare of her life. Gluten plus stress means a lowered immune system. You want her to be bedridden after all she went through? Pasta is so full of empty calories anyway!” Constance sniffed as she brandished the bags. “I am an expert in nutrition!”
My eyes went wide as I stared at a rainbow of different bags with restaurant logos on them. “Constance, are you trying to feed a small third world country?”
Constance beamed as she leaned over and air kissed at both my cheeks before whisking toward the kitchen. “Barbara, go grab the champagne and wine out of my back seat. I don’t have enough hands.”
“I didn’t hear a please!” Barbara shot back.
“Barbara, please stop dawdling and go grab the champagne out of the car for me.”
Barbara rolled her eyes. “Anyway, Constance, it’s New Year’s Eve. You can’t say ‘Happy New Year’ until tomorrow.”
Constance shot her an angry look.
Leave it to these two to find a way to use anything they can as weapons of thinly veiled war, I thought.
As Barbara moved to go through the front door, Iris arrived. They both let out startled yelps. To my horror, Iris was balancing two giant Tupperware trays of yet more food. They were acting like my attacker had locked me up and starved me for weeks.
“Barbara! How are you doing?” Iris asked as Barbara took a couple steps back to move out of the woman’s way. Iris bounced in and set the dishes on the nearest end table, throwing her arms around me. “Oh my goodness, that had to have been the scare of your life!”
“I’m okay, really,” I said.
“Of course you are,” Iris crooned in a patronizing tone as she patted my cheek. “You’re safe now. That’s all that matters! I have just the thing to lift your spirits. I found a new recipe on the internet that is absolutely delicious. One bite and you are going to just die!”
Constance urgently hushed her with a sharp hiss and muffled a squeals as she tried to cut her off—only it was a second too late. Iris’s eyes shot wide with horror. She clapped both her hands over her mouth, as if she had just uttered the worst cuss word in the history of humankind.
“Everything is okay,” I assured them. And to a degree, everything was okay. Brady Wayland’s murder had been solved—but there was one problem. Where was Alum? Had he gone on, never to return? I had not seen him for days.
Constance, shoving a cupcake heaped with a thick buttery-looking frosting at me, interrupted my thoughts. I gently waved the cake away. “Thanks, but I couldn’t possibly eat cake at this time of day.”
“Just one!” Constance offered me the cake. “One cake won’t hurt you.”
Just smelling the butter and sugar that radiated from the thing was enough to make my stomach churn.
“Now who’s trying to feed her empty calories?” Barbara said smugly.
“Cake is not empty. It has plenty of nutritional value.” Constance stated as she held the plate steady. “I studied nutrition for years, right when I was dating a famous actor.”
Iris laughed and shook her head, “Remind me not to let you baby-sit my grandchildren.”
“Who said I’d volunteer?” Constance demanded, her eyes wide in horror at the thought.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to watch kids?” Barbara asked, walking through the door with several bottles.
“Of course I do!” Constance shot back with a disdainful sniff. “It’s just that I’m too old to go around chasing someone else’s little monsters.”
“The children are rambunctious, but they’re hardly monsters,” Iris said, offended.
“I’m not a monster,” Luke screamed.
Uncle Tim followed Luke into the room. “Speaking of monsters…”
Rainbow hurried in after them. “Who said Luke was a monster?”
“No one!” Iris said hurriedly, but it was too late. Rainbow was already running from the room in tears.
Uncle Tim shook his head. “Glad she got those genes from the other side of the family,” he said.
Constance handed me a glass of champagne. “Here, drink this.”
I shook my head. “No, thanks. Seriously, Constance, it’s too early in the day to drink champagne.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Constance said. “It’s a celebration that you’re okay. Do you think you’ll be on the news? Or on TV?” Her eyes lit up. She held out the bottle of champagne to Iris.
“Prudence, you and I should go out for coffee tomorrow,” Barbara said, while Iris and Constance were both distracted by the champagne.
I gave Barbara an apologetic smile. “Barbara, I’ve been through a lot. I had that woman trying to kill me yesterday. And I have guests staying with me.”
Barbara crossed her arms and pouted. “Really, Prudence, you never want to spend any time with me.”
I sighed loudly and stuffed Constance’s cupcake into my mouth. “Look, how about I call you as soon as I recover?” I said when I had swallowed the generous mouthful. “I can’t promise when that will be, though.”
“Sold,” Barbara said.
“Sold what?” Constance demanded. “Did you sell something without my advice? I’ll have you know that I have a vast web of knowledge in sales. I was voted Sal
esperson of The Year when I lived in Brisbane.”
“Just doing a little negotiating,” I said.
“What on earth are you talking about? We’re all too old for guessing games.” Constance’s brow crinkled with confusion.
“Eh?” I cupped a hand to my ear and leaned toward Constance. “Speak up, Granny. I can’t hear ya.”
Constance pulled a face.
I frowned and glanced at the second glass of wine Constance was drinking—or was it the third?
“You drink too much, Constance,” Uncle Tim said, knocking the cap off his beer, “and that’s why you don’t make sense at times and why you can be insensitive and self-absorbed. I know you’ll say that’s the pot calling the kettle black, but I call things as I see ’em.”
As I turned back to listen to their giggling, wine-inspired talk, something about false teeth and a restaurant, I frowned. Was that Alum trying to appear, or was that just wishful thinking on my part? Or maybe it was the ghastly visual disturbances I always got before a migraine? I thought I saw him, but then the image faded in and out, the edges of his form distorting like static on a screen.
I rubbed my eyes and stared at where I thought his image had been. In that blink of time, his image suddenly appeared and then vanished, as if it never happened.
“Prudence, are you okay?” Iris was staring at me.
“Sorry, I just zoned out,” I said. “It’s been a hectic time. I really need to clean up the mess.” I look at where Luke had strewn chocolate wrappers all over the floor. Again. And was that cat litter?
“Come on,” Iris said. “Let’s clean up in here for Prudence. She looks tired. She should go out into the garden and have a few moments to herself.”
“Nonsense! She just needs refreshing,” Constance said. “And it’s dark outside. Plus it’s almost midnight. We have to count down to the New Year.” She moved to block my exit.
“I think I do need to be alone for a few moments, Constance,” I said firmly. “Anyway, I have solar lights in the garden, and it’s a full moon or close to it.”
Iris and Barbara escorted the protesting Constance away from the door.
“You three lovely ladies clean up and I’ll look after Luke,” Uncle Tim said sternly. “I’m here if you need me. Prudence, go and have some time to yourself in the garden. I just can’t imagine what you went through with that woman trying to kill you.”
“Will do,” I said. “Thank you.”
I walked out into the garden with a sigh of relief. I shut the back door and then leaned on it. Alone at last! I turned back to the house and saw Possum and Lily climbing up my bedroom curtains. Oh well, they were probably going stir crazy being locked in my room to keep them safe from Luke, and only coming out into the garden with me first thing in the mornings. I just wanted to stretch out and relax.
I smiled. Scratch that. I wanted to curl up on the couch and chat with Alum until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I knew nothing could come of my feelings for him, but that didn’t change the way I felt. I shook my head and laughed softly. The last thing I needed to do was to start thinking about love from beyond the grave.
I sat on the old bench that I had rescued and repainted, inhaling the heady scent of old English roses, stirred up by the warm air. There was a gentle breeze, just enough to provide relief from the dry heat.
But where was Alum?
I stretched my arms over my head and groaned. “I need a nice hot bath and an overdose of arnica,” I said to Possum. “I have a few nasty bruises from yesterday. Wait a minute. How did you get out?”
I picked up the protesting cat and carried her to the back door. “Make sure Luke doesn’t let the cats out,” I called. “Can you put them back in my bedroom?”
“Righto!” was Uncle Tim’s reply. “I’ll fix the little…” I was unable to hear the rest of his response, and that was probably just as well.
Possum did not appear to care when I put her back inside the house. She stalked off to the kitchen, no doubt in search of her food bowl. I shut the door and turned back to the garden, when I froze.
Alum flickered into the middle of the garden, right in front of the lavender bushes. His image shimmered and then faded, the whole image randomly distorting and refocusing. My skin broke out in goose bumps.
Alum reached out a hand to me. He tried to speak, but it was as if someone had turned on the mute button, leaving him eerily silent as he struggled against an unseen force.
“Alum!” I said in alarm. “What’s happening?”
Then he vanished. I stood alone in my garden, my arm still outstretched to the empty space where Alum had just been. There was no feeling of a presence, no echo of energy, just an eerie glow from the solar lights dotted around the garden. Had he crossed over? If so, why did he look shocked?
Just then, Alum appeared once more for the briefest of moments.
“Prudence, I’m not dead!”
* * * The End * * *
Connect with Morgana .
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Next Book in this Series .
Ghost Hunter (The Middle-aged Ghost Whisperer Book 2)
When Prudence learns the shocking truth about Alum Mullein, she discovers more than she bargained for. Can she save Alum’s soul and stay alive, against all odds?
* * *
Other books by Morgana Best .
A Ghost of a Chance (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 1)
Nobody knows that Laurel Bay can see and talk to ghosts. When she inherits a funeral home, she is forced to return from the city to the small town of Witch Woods to breathe life into the business. It is a grave responsibility, but Laurel is determined that this will be no dead-end job.
There she has to contend with her manipulative and overly religious mother, more than one ghost, and a secretive but handsome accountant.
When the murder of a local woman in the funeral home strangles the finances, can Laurel solve the murder?
Or will this be the death of her business?
Miss Spelled (The Kitchen Witch Book 1)
Amelia Spelled has had a bad week. Her boyfriend dumps her when she inadvertently gives him food poisoning; her workplace, a telecommunications center, fires all their staff as they are outsourcing offshore, and she is evicted due to smoke damage resulting from her failed attempts at baking. Amelia thinks her luck has changed when she inherits her aunt’s store and beautiful Victorian house.
Yet has Amelia jumped out of the frying pan into the fire? The store is a cake store, and her aunt was a witch. To add to the mix, the house has secrets all of its own.
When a man is murdered in the cake store, will Amelia be able to cook up a way to solve the crime? Or will her spells prove as bad as her baking?
About Morgana Best .
#1 Best-selling Cozy Mystery author, Morgana Best, lives in a small, historic, former gold mining town in the middle of nowhere in Australia. She is owned by one highly demanding, rescued cat who is half Chinchilla, and two less demanding dogs, a chocolate Labrador and a rescued Dingo, as well as two rescued Dorper sheep, the ram, Herbert, and his wether friend, Bertie.
Morgana is a former college professor who now writes full time. Her subject was grammar. Morgana was a published author of dry academic books under a pen name, but abandoned academia to write cozy mysteries.
In her spare time, Morgana loves to read cozy mysteries, repurpose furniture, and renovate her old house. She is vegan.
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