Witch Slapped (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 1)

by Dakota Cassidy

  But my shoulders slumped when I gazed down at her. “I did not kill Madam Zoltar, and I am not getting free coffee. I’m perfectly happy to pay for my coffee.”

  But she wasn’t done with me. Tightening the belt of her winter-white coat around her thick waist, she narrowed her gaze and wagged a finger under my nose, the ends of her flip hairdo bouncing in time with her finger point of shame.

  “Don’t you have a shred of decency? How could you wander around this town, parading all over the place in front of that poor child, Liza, like you’re not a cold-blooded killer?”

  Just as I was about to lose my temper, someone shouted from behind us, “Leave her alone! You’re all so judgmental and mean! Stevie didn’t kill my nana, Chicken-Opolis did!”

  “Cluck-cluck,” Win whispered.

  Chapter 12

  Pushing my way toward the front of the store, my eyes met Liza Martoni’s with a question in them, but she turned and bolted out the door with a sob.

  Good thing I wore my very practical running heels. I took off after her, darting from the store.

  “Left! Go left, Stevie!” Win ordered.

  But I didn’t have to go far. Liza’s sobs could be heard even over the light rain, coming from the direction of Madam Z’s store.

  “Liza!” I called. “Please don’t run away.” I edged toward her, avoiding puddles and holes.

  When I made it to the front of the store, I saw the crime-scene tape was still in place. Shoot, I felt bad. Reaching for her arm, I squeezed it. “Liza? Come with me. Let’s talk and you can tell me all about Chicken-Opolis.”

  She lifted her red head, her wide eyes brimming with tears. “Okay,” she whispered, allowing me to take her hand.

  I tucked it under my arm and pulled her toward the spice shop, where I hoped there was less of a crowd who wanted to tar and feather me, but where I’d also heard they served tea.

  Pulling her inside, I was relieved to see there was only one patron. Amidst the shelves upon shelves of spices, I found a table in a quiet corner surrounded by the scent of sage and lavender and sat down.

  Liza instantly let her face fall to her hands, tears dropping to the glistening wood table in salty blobs. Her slender shoulders sank inward beneath her neon-green hoodie. She looked so small, so defeated, I almost cried, too.

  Clearing my throat, I kept my voice low. “Liza? I’m so sorry about your nana. But I’m trying to help find out who did this.” I dug a tissue out of my purse, stroking Belfry’s ear before handing it to her.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “Every time I think I’m all dried up, the waterworks start again. I miss her so much.”

  My heart constricted. “Did you spend a lot of time with her?”

  She bobbed her head, finally lifting her wide eyes to meet mine. “Every day almost. I go to the University of Washington, so I would always drop by the store on my way home from classes to be sure she had dinner. We never missed an episode of The Blacklist, and during the spring and summer, we always went to the farmers’ market together.”

  “A college girl, huh? Bet she was proud of you, Liza.”

  “I’m the first in my family to go, and now…now she won’t see me graduate this spring. She was so happy for me when I got in. She teased me all the time about how big my brains were.”

  “Damn,” Win muttered softly.

  Yes. Damn.

  “Did you ever notice anything suspicious going on with her? Anything that made you think she was acting out of character lately?”

  “Not a single thing. She was in great spirits when I saw her the night before…before she…died.” Liza worried her upper lip before pressing her fingers to her mouth.

  “Any new people in her life, anyone strange at the store?”

  “Just the usual suspects who came in for readings all the time.” As Liza rattled off a few names of some regulars, I mentally tucked them away for future reference.

  I reached out a hand in sympathy, squeezing her arm. “Liza, I know this is a really horrible time for you, but I want to help find who did this to your nana.”

  “But why? You didn’t even know her. Is it because everyone in town is calling you a murderer? Ignore the bunch of gossips. They talk about anything and everything.”

  It wasn’t just Win driving me anymore. It was Liza’s grief. Her loss. I felt it, too. “No. The gossips don’t concern me, but I feel this crazy connection to your nana that I can’t quite explain. I’m the one who found her, and I’ve heard so many wonderful things about her, I just want to help. So do you mind if I ask you some more questions?”

  She shrugged. “If you think it’ll help, ask anything you want.”

  “What did you mean when you said Chicken-Opolis killed her?”

  Now her eyes flashed hot and bright. “It was that man my father was talking to! Some guy named Hendrick Von Adams. He wanted to buy Nana’s store and turn it into a franchise chicken place, but Nana said no. Who else would want to hurt her? Isn’t money always the motive for murder? He could make a lot of money being the first in the franchise to open in the Pacific Northwest.”

  “So this Hendrick from Chicken-Opolis talked to your nana and she said no sale. Why did he go to your father then?”

  “Because my dad is her only living relative besides me. He thought he could worm his way into Nana’s good graces by using my dad. He kept telling Dad how dangerous it was for an elderly woman to be at the store so late at night, and wouldn’t we all feel safer if she was home and tucked in with us? But he didn’t know my nana. She was an active senior who always said she wasn’t just going to quit living because of her age, and nobody could tell her otherwise.”

  I fought a smile. Despite MZ’s fake credentials, I was sure we’d have been fast friends. “Okay, but to be fair, Liza, murder’s a pretty big accusation because he couldn’t buy a piece of real estate. What led you to say something like that?”

  “The last time he tried talking my dad into getting Nana to sign over the store, my dad got angry and told Hendrick if he didn’t quit bugging him, he’d call the police. Hendrick said he was going to do whatever it took to get the store, and that happened the day before Nana was killed.”

  I almost gasped, but I managed to keep it together as the waitress approached and I ordered us some mint tea in the hopes it would soothe the rattled Liza. “Did your father tell the police this?”

  “We both did, and the police said they would look into it. But Hendrick Von Adams is a rich jerk with his fancy Bentley and fancier driver. He probably has big attorneys who can get him out of a jam in no time flat.”

  “Is he still here in Ebenezer Falls?”

  “Yep. He’s over at the B&B where my friend, Sally, works at the desk. She’s says he’s a total jerk, always complaining about the food and the temperature of the water. I bet it was him who killed her!”

  I didn’t want to upset her, but how likely was it this Hendrick guy had killed MZ? In the end, the store and the property would go to whomever she left it to in her will.

  So I asked as much. “But if this man killed her, wouldn’t he still lose the store anyway? Didn’t your nana leave it to you or your dad, as her only living relatives?”

  Liza’s breathing hitched as another wave of fresh tears assaulted her. “Nana was going to lose the store in the next few months or so. Her loan was in default, and Hendrick Von Adams knew it! She had maybe six more months before the bank took everything. She kept telling us she was going to find a way to catch up, but there was no way she could do that. Not being as behind as she was. Maybe he didn’t want to wait around for the bank to finally foreclose?”

  And she’d refused Win’s offer of money. She really did just love helping the bereaved. We could all learn a lesson from the esteemed MZ.

  “Why wouldn’t she take my money?” Win’s question mirrored my thoughts, but his voice had an edge of sorrow.

  “You know something, though?”

  “What’s that?” I asked, forcing myself
to take small sips of the mint tea.

  “The week before she died, she was really happy. Said she was having the time of her senior life. I’m glad, too,” Liza said, her voice cracking. “I’m glad she was smiling and laughing again. Like really laughing. I think she had a boyfriend.”

  Or a generous spy friend who wasn’t such a hardass after all.

  I was glad to see Liza calming, her shoulders going from rigid to relaxed. As I gazed at her multiple piercings, that was when I remembered the Senior Alert necklace.

  “Liza? Do you remember when you told me you’d given your nana a Senior Alert necklace? Do you know if she was she wearing it that day? Did she ever wear it?”

  Her smile was a reflection of my emotions…sad. “She did wear it. All the time—because I asked her to. She wouldn’t do it for Dad, but for me she did.”

  “And the police didn’t find it at the store?”

  “No, but Senior Alert was called. But they said someone called in after the alarm sounded and gave them the right password to call off the dogs.”

  I sat up straight. Who would know her password? My stomach sank. The obvious answer was a family member. But Liza didn’t feel right. She was no killer, and unless she was up for an Academy Award for Best Portrayal of a Grieving Granddaughter, she wasn’t lying.

  Which left Dan. Ugh. Please don’t let it be Dan. Liza would be left all alone without anyone, and I certainly wasn’t going to ask her something so sensitive while she was in the height of her mourning.

  Sipping at my tea, I tried not to wrinkle my nose—tea isn’t my beverage of choice. “Did the police say who called in the password?”

  Liza’s lower lip trembled and her eyes filled again. “It was my nana. She called it in.”

  * * * *

  After I gave Liza my cell number, and made her promise she’d text me when she was home safely, I drove to a place I used to go as a kid, right by the Sound, and parked my cute little car.

  But my heart was heavy. So heavy. Liza’s grief-stricken tears, the love and friendships she’d shared with her grandmother, overwhelmed me.

  Turning off the ignition, I leaned my forehead on the steering wheel and clenched my eyes tight.

  “Stevie? How can I help?” Win asked, clear concern in his voice.

  “Just let her get it all out, Winterbutt. She goes through this with everyone she’s ever helped. She gets her emotions all stirred up, and because my Stevie’s got a good soul, that heart of gold cracks a little when there’s a person hurting the way Liza is,” Bel offered, climbing along my arm until he was nestled against the warmth of the scarf around my neck.

  He was right. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was empathic, but I’ve had my fair share of transference, and there was nothing I hated more than seeing suffering.

  “I’m sorry, Win. I’m sorry this happened to her,” was all I could manage right now.

  Win’s radiant warmth surrounded me, bringing with it calm.

  “You did nothing wrong, Stevie. But whoever did will pay. If I have to summon a demon myself.”

  My head popped up. “Whoa there, Nellie. You can summon a demon? You didn’t mention you could summon demons. Do not—I repeat—do not summon demons, Crispin Alistair Winterbottom! You don’t know the havoc you can wreak and there’ll be nothing I can do about it without my powers. Are you hearing me?”

  “Duly noted. No demons. Are there any other horrific entities here I can summon in their stead?”

  “No! Leave the dead alone, Win. Promise.”

  “Fine, fine. I’ll leave the dead be. But by hook or by crook, I’ll find a way to make this bastard suffer.”

  I let my head fall back on the headrest and blew out a breath. “Do you think the person who killed MZ made her call the Senior Alert people and give them her password so they wouldn’t send someone out?” How awful. I couldn’t bear it. My stomach turned again, somersaulting in a sea of too much mint tea and Enzo’s coffee.

  “I think anything’s possible, Stevie.”

  “I guess this means it’s an official murder investigation and that’s probably why they’re questioning me today.”

  “I wouldn’t jump to conclusions about you being a suspect. What’s your motive to murder Madam Zoltar? You have none. You stumbled upon her body and that’s that. Don’t worry, Stevie. That’s what Luis Lipton’s for.”

  Right. My fancy criminal defense attorney on retainer. The very idea I had to have one of those in my contacts list on my phone made me want to cringe. But if I had to have one, I was happy to take Win’s advice. According to his stats, Lipton was the best in the Seattle area.

  Gripping the steering wheel, I decided action was needed here. Talking with Liza left me more determined than ever to find this dreadful scourge of humanity and see justice was served.

  “So next stop, the B&B? I want to sink my claws into that Von Adams dude and all his fancy money.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  I didn’t think about how I was going to get Hendrick to talk to me. That never crossed my mind. What I wanted to do was put him in a headlock and make him tell me why he’d threaten an old woman who wanted nothing more than to keep active—feel alive.

  A vision of the pointy heel of my shoe jammed in his ear came to mind. I’d make him talk to me whether he wanted to or not.

  I made the short drive to Coraline Evans’s B&B, The Sunshine Inn, and wondered if she even still owned it. Set picturesquely in a corner nook of the subdivision right next door to where I once lived, it was a staple for those tourists who couldn’t afford the prices of Seattle, but still wanted to take day trips into the city or whale watch.

  I loved its cottage-like exterior, the French Countryside appeal of the gardens and décor Coraline had devoted so many years to cultivating. In the spring, there’d be lilacs and lavender for days along the cobbled path to the periwinkle-blue front door.

  Nothing about The Sunshine Inn said ocean or deep-sea fishing. There were no typical anchors and fishnets hanging from its walls, but by proxy, it represented Ebenezer Falls perfectly—quaint, small town, warm and cozy.

  Parking in front of the circular drive, I noted the Bentley Liza had mentioned two cars ahead of mine.

  Good, Chicken Man was apparently in. I hoped he liked unannounced visitors.

  Dodging the pelting rain, I ran toward the arched door and pushed it open, stepping into the reception area. A cheerful young woman in her early twenties or so greeted me with a warm smile from behind an enormous reclaimed-wood registration desk.

  “Welcome to The Sunshine Inn!”

  Setting my purse on the rustic countertop, I smiled back. “I’m Stevie Cartwright, it’s so nice to meet you. I’d like a little help with locating a guest of yours.”

  Instantly her pretty face shadowed. “I can’t give out private information. The trust and privacy of our guests is our priority.”

  Holding up my hand, I nodded and smiled wider. I was prepared for this after Liza told me Chicken Man was a jerk. “I understand completely. But this is rather an emergency. I’m Hendrick Von Adams’s personal assistant, and if I don’t get some vital papers to him, well, I’m sure you know how he can be…” I tapped my purse and gave her the secret put-upon, minimum-wage-salary look—the universal sign for anyone who’d worked for or dealt with tyrants on a daily basis.

  Her grin returned on her openly cheerful face, meaning, she got it. But still she shook her head. “He asked not to be disturbed by anyone, but you can leave the papers with me. I’ll be sure to give them to him.”

  I patted my purse protectively. “I’m afraid I just can’t do that—Sally, is it?” I glanced at her nametag and pretend-squinted. “You have no idea what he’ll do to me if he doesn’t get these. No. Idea,” I emphasized with big, round, pleading eyes. “Could you possibly call up to his room?”

  “Couldn’t you call him on your cell?”

  I let my shoulders sag in disappointment. “Can you believe I left it back in Sea
ttle?” I used the heel of my hand to tap my forehead. “I can’t believe I was such a knucklehead and forgot it, and if Mr. Von Adams finds out…well, I just hope my dog Belfry doesn’t mind moving into a shelter. It’s the only hope he has of getting that wheelchair he needs for his paralyzed back legs if I lose my job.”

  “Talk about going the extra mile,” Win remarked.

  Sally cracked a little. I saw it in her deep brown eyes as they melted at the mention of my fictitious dog. “I totally understand. I have three cats and I’d do just about anything for my furbabies. I can’t call him. There are no phones in the rooms, but maybe I could just go up and tap on his door for you?”

  I knew there were no phones in the rooms, or I had prayed things hadn’t changed much in ten years, anyway.

  “Would you? You’d save my life, and Belfry’s. Wanna see a picture of him? Oh, he’s so cute, all furry and—”

  Sally flapped a hand upward and smiled sympathetically. “No need. I’ll go do that. Be back in a jiffy.” As Sally took her leave, heading up the narrow staircase toward the bedrooms, I patted myself on the back.

  “A paralyzed dog, Stevie? Are there no lengths to which you won’t go? Have you no shame?” Win asked, but I heard admiration in his whisper. “How did you know she was an animal lover?”

  “Cat hair on the arm of her navy-blue shirt. Just so’s ya know, Spy Guy, I’ve been around the block a time or two. I might not have been around Morocco’s block or in some of the priciest art galleries in the world, but I did once stop a meteor from blowing up Boise.”

  “Not a lie,” Belfry chirped.

  Leaning over the desk, I found the logbook where I hoped it would list which room Hendrick was in and flipped through it. “Bingo!” I whispered as I skimmed the list of five bedrooms and located Hendrick Von Adams.

  I looked around the daintily decorated sitting room just to the left of the reception area, in pastel blues and whites, with a crystal chandelier and vases full of dried lavender, and pointed to the archway.