Striker’s eyes snapped from the place beyond my shoulder to my face. “Murder? What are you talking about? I told you she wasn’t murdered.”
So he was going to play dumb. Well, two could play at that game. I wasn’t going to give him any of the information I’d gleaned. Not that it was much. “You just happened to see me driving here and pulled me over, then?”
Striker leaned forward and straightened my shirt collar, muddying my thoughts. “Yes. We haven’t seen each other in a while, and I meant to ask you to dinner, but Gus is short-handed, so I’ve been working a shift here in Mystic Notch as well as my regular shift over in Dixford Pass and…” He frowned at something to the left of me, and for a minute I was afraid he could see Adelaide, but her ghost had drifted out from behind me on the right and was now intent on distracting me.
“You shouldn’t be wasting time here with your guy. I need you to find that book so I can get together with my guy.” Her eyes turned dreamy. “And I feel that he’s close. Very close. But if you don’t find the book soon, I may lose him forever.”
I glanced over at her and noticed something interesting in the woods. I could just barely make it out through the misty shimmer of her body. At the very edge of the Hamilton property, the pine trees grew thick, but there appeared to be a clearing about twenty feet in. Inside the clearing were large slate stones. Gravestones. The Harrington family plot. And in the middle I could see an old vine-covered structure. The mausoleum. Would that be a good place to hide a book?
“So you wanna get together later tonight?” Striker asked.
I jerked my eyes back in his direction.
“You don’t have time. You have to find the book,” Adelaide said.
“Umm ... I do, but I have some work to catch up on.”
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Ok. I better get back to work, myself. Maybe later this week?”
The hopeful look in his eye twisted my heart. “Definitely later.”
I really wanted to get together sooner rather than later, but it was hard to concentrate with Adelaide floating around. She was right—I did have to find the book soon. Once I did, she could be reunited with her husband, and I could concentrate on my relationship with Striker. Not to mention that the book would then be safe from those who wanted to use it with bad intent.
I made it back to the bookstore with a tuna sub in my hand shortly after lunch. Pandora didn’t bother to greet me. She was probably mad I’d gone off to Hamiltons without her.
I pinched some tuna out of the sub and put it on a little plate for her as a peace offering. She sniffed the air then favored me with a haughty look before stretching her legs out in front of her and erupting in a sharp-toothed yawn. She then hopped out of her bed, trotted over to the tuna, and ate it without giving me another look.
With all my extracurricular activities at the Hamilton mansion, I’d gotten behind in cataloguing new books. I’d picked up several lots of old leather-bounds at a local estate sale, and they were waiting to be put into the system and displayed on the shelves. I hefted a big box onto the counter and got to work.
I wasn’t at it for more than ten minutes when the door burst open and Gus stormed in. She stopped short in front of the counter and stared at me, her hands on her hips. Her long blond hair was pulled up into a tight bun, the way she always wore it when she was on duty. I figured she thought it made her look like a tough sheriff, but it was kind of hard to look tough when you had a petite hourglass figure, even if it was stuffed into a plain brown sheriff uniform. Her face was pinched into an angry scowl.
“I’ve been getting complaints about you from the Hamilton family,” she said.
I feigned innocence. “You have?”
“Yes. They said you’ve been hanging around, asking questions. This isn’t a murder investigation, Willa. And even if it was, you wouldn’t be a part of it.”
I pressed my lips together and wondered just who had called the police on me. “Really? Who said I was hanging around? I’ve only been there twice. The other day I went to pay my respects for Gram, and this morning Pepper wanted company when she went to pay hers.”
“Never mind who called me. I want you to leave that family alone. Adelaide was not murdered.”
“Really? Then why did you bring in Striker?”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t bring in Striker, because there is no probable cause, therefore, no investigation. Why do you ask that?”
I decided to keep my mouth shut. I wasn’t sure why Gus would be lying to me about Adelaide’s murder. It didn’t make much sense, as word of her investigation was sure to get out on the Mystic Notch grapevine sooner or later. She and Striker had never purposely kept the fact that they were investigating a murder from me before. Odd that they would hide it now, but if she was going to be that way, I wouldn’t volunteer anything either.
“I’m sorry there was a misunderstanding with the Hamiltons. It won’t happen again,” I said to appease her.
“It better not—” Gus’s phone chirped, and her eyes snapped down to her belt, where the phone was secured. Her brow creased slightly. “Gertie Sloan? I better get this.”
She snapped the phone off her belt and turned her back to me as if she wanted privacy. A polite person would’ve gone on with their work, trying not to eavesdrop, but I wasn’t that polite. Gertie was the county medical examiner, and if she was calling Gus, I knew it had to be something good. I leaned forward, tilting my head so as to best hear the conversation.
“Excessive amounts of opiates?” Gus said. “How did you even…”
“But there was no autopsy on Adel—” Gus bit off her words and glanced back in my direction. I jerked my head down at the paperwork, hoping she wouldn’t notice I had been eavesdropping. She stepped farther away and continued talking. “On her. So how did you find out what was in her bloodstream?”
“From Blakes … for the cause of death… Oh, I see. Well, that is unusual and disturbing.”
Another glance back at me while she listened to Gertie on the other end.
“Right. Too bad she’s already been buried. Thanks for letting me know. Yes, I know, probable cause and all that, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to exhumation.” She snapped the phone shut and whirled around to face me. “Were you listening?”
“No, not me. I was cataloguing books.” I pointed to the stack of books.
“Good. You can forget about hearing any of that. It had nothing to do with you.” She turned and strode to the door, ripping it open then turning back to me. “And stay away from the Hamiltons.”
I watched her leave, wondering what exactly the call had been about. From what I could gather, somebody’s blood had too many opiates in it. Opiates could knock someone out and render them unconscious. And why would someone want to render someone else unconscious? One reason could be so they could easily kill them in their bed and make it look as if they died in their sleep.
If my guess was correct, that call had been about Adelaide Hamilton. But Gus’s surprise had been obvious. She hadn’t known about any foul play before Gertie’s call. But if that were true, then why had Striker already been investigating the case?
Eddie Striker stared down at the phone in his hand. Adelaide Hamilton had been murdered? He had a hard time believing it, but the information Gus had just given him left little question. As part of a new state initiative to gather information on infections that were now so prevalent in the elderly, the funeral director had sent a sample of Adelaide’s blood off to be inspected. Since there had been no sign of foul play, the lab had taken their time, and Adelaide’s memorial service had gone on as planned.
Adelaide didn’t have C-diff or any of the other dreaded infections, but the test revealed her blood had a high amount of opiates. Okay, not so suspicious considering she had cancer, but Gus had verified with her doctor that the cancer was in remission, and though he’d been refilling her prescriptions, Adelaide wasn’t in pain and not taking many pain pills, if any.
<
br /> Upon hearing this news, the funeral director mentioned something disturbing to Gus. He’d noticed bruises on the side of Adelaide’s mouth. Broken blood vessels in her eyes. All signs of being suffocated. However, he had assumed she’d been in the last throes of cancer. He’d seen the bodies of many cancer victims, and they were in much worse states, so he didn’t think much about it when he’d prepared her.
Striker remembered Willa accusing him of investigating Adelaide’s murder. He had thought it was strange at the time since there was no murder. Did Willa know something that he and Gus didn’t? It would be just like her to try to track down the killer herself. She had a habit of doing that. That would explain why he kept finding her skulking around the Hamiltons’. But why would someone want to murder Adelaide?
“That’s a good question.” Louis Hamilton’s ghost appeared in the passenger seat of Striker’s police car, practically giving him a heart attack.
“Do you have to pop up unannounced like that?”
“Sorry. I don’t know how to announce myself. I can’t believe what I just heard you say on the phone. My Adelaide murdered? By whom?”
“I wish I knew. But since she was found at home in bed, it looks like it was probably one of your relatives.”
Louis frowned. “Gosh, that’s hard to believe. It wouldn’t be one of my offspring.” His face brightened. “Maybe it was that Lisa or Marion. I never did like Marion, always poking into our affairs, but Adelaide wouldn’t let me turn her out. Twins have a very close relationship.”
“So you don’t have any idea who it would have been? You’re not much help. In fact, you’re getting in the way. What was that business outside of the Hamilton … err … your mansion earlier today? Couldn’t you see I was talking to Willa?” Striker asked.
“Oh, sorry about that. I just sensed that Adelaide was so close, and you’re not doing nearly enough to find that book. I had to pop in and give you some instructions.”
“More like distractions. It’s hard to pay attention to you when I’m trying to be talking to humans who don’t know you exist.”
“Well, that’s just too bad, young man. Can’t you find that book any quicker? I feel my Adelaide is slipping away …”
Louis’s voice sounded so sad that Striker almost felt sorry for him. Almost. But the fact was, he felt as if his relationship with Willa was slipping away, too. And it was all because of Louis. “Yeah, this isn’t good for either one of our love lives. So what were these instructions you were going to give me? Do you know where the book is?”
“I don’t know where it is, but I have some suggestions as to where to look. We always joked that Adelaide was forgetful. She’d hide things and not be able to find them again. So for anything important, she’d pick a Hamilton ancestor and hide it near them.”
“What do you mean near them?”
“The Hamilton line goes way back, and we have a lot of family heirlooms and memorabilia. Aunt Lottie’s favorite rocking chair. Uncle Henry’s beer stein. Old family portraits. She’d associate the item with an ancestor and hide it near their portrait or in one of their favorite things. One time she hid a necklace in the drawer of a side table that had a lamp that Aunt Cleo brought back from the Orient in the twenties. Another time a pocket watch she was planning to give me for Christmas went into a gravy boat my great-grandparents brought over from England.”
“So what ancestor did she associate the book with?”
Louis grimaced. “That, I don’t know.”
“Well, that’s hardly helpful.”
“I suppose not, but I happen to know that Adelaide was meticulous about keeping the Hamilton heirlooms in order. She didn’t like the house to be cluttered, though. So she donated a lot of stuff to the historical society. She used the stone cottage for storing and sorting those items. If someone in the family was out to kill her and Adelaide was worried about that recipe book, she might well have hidden the item in the cottage. It’s worth a look, right?”
“I suppose it can’t hurt.” Striker remembered the last time he’d been at the cottage. Willa had been there, too. Coincidence? He also remembered how mad Max had gotten when he’d thrown them out. Was there something in there the boy didn’t want him to see?
When he’d been there before, he hadn’t been on police business. He’d been trying to get a handle on the family and figure out how he could get his hands on the book. Since he hadn’t been on official business, he’d left when questioned. This time, it wouldn’t be as easy to get rid of him. Now, in addition to his unofficial business of looking for the book, he had official business that would allow him to show his badge and search the premises—Adelaide’s murder.
16
I felt bad about lying to Gus. Well, technically I hadn’t lied—I just didn’t tell her everything I knew. Though the part about not going to the Hamiltons’ house was probably a lie. I was sure I was going to end up there again sooner or later. But there was no way I could tell her that I’d talked to Adelaide’s ghost and was looking for a book of spells. Gus was a total nonbeliever when it came to magic. I couldn’t get judgmental on her about that, though. I’d been pretty much a nonbeliever most of my life, too.
Looking back, I wondered if Gram had tried to instill magic in me from early on. She always said I was special. Adelaide had even said Gram wanted her to give me the message to believe in magic, and Gram had mentioned Betty’s Recipes in her will. If she’d known about the spell book, then surely she’d known about magic? And what about Elspeth? Elspeth was supposed to get the book. Did she know of magic too?
I’d always thought it was strange that Gram had left her house, her bookstore, and Pandora to me alone instead of splitting them between Gus and me. Since she’d left Gus a sum of money equal to what I’d inherited, I had assumed she was just trying to make it easy on us, so we didn’t have to go through the work of splitting things up. But it was odd that she’d leave the property in Mystic Notch to me, because I’d lived in Massachusetts at the time of her passing. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to leave the property to Gus, who already lived here? But now I wondered if it wasn’t all part of a plan to get me to move back to Mystic Notch. And if that was the outcome Gram had wanted, then it had worked perfectly. But why would Gram have cared if I moved back after her death?
There didn’t seem to be much reason for it. Maybe Gram knew all along I needed a change. I was happy here. I loved the bookstore and had made great friends. Friends who took care of me, like Elspeth with her homemade dinners. But if I didn’t get that spell book, I was afraid things might change drastically, and not for the better. Maybe Elspeth would have some insight as to where Adelaide would have hidden it.
I still had Elspeth’s basket and the—now clean—plates she’d left the previous night. What a great excuse to go to her house. I wasn’t sure what I would ask her, but I hoped she’d have some insight into the Hamilton family dynamics or where Adelaide might have kept the book. She’d known Adelaide—maybe she could point me in the right direction.
Pandora was more than happy to accompany me, and we made the short trek through the woods in record time. We split off in the clearing—Pandora heading toward the barn, and me heading to the front door.
I could smell the sugary scent of cookies as soon as I hit the first step. Elspeth was baking, and I hoped there was enough for me. As if on cue, she appeared in the doorway just as I raised my fist to knock.
“Oh, hi, Willa. Would you like to join me for some tea and cookies?” She held a tray in her hand. On it sat a round clear-glass pitcher swirling with amber liquid, a plate piled high with golden-yellow sugar cookies, and two cut-glass tumblers.
“I’d love to. Are you expecting someone else? I don’t want to intrude.” I eyed the two tumblers.
“Oh no, it’ll just be us.” She pushed the door open, and I set the basket down and then took the tray from her.
“I brought back your dishes from the other night. I really appreciate you sending supper over,”
I said.
“It’s nothing, dear. I know you work long hours, and it’s just as easy for me to cook for two and bring dinner over for you.”
We settled into the white rocking chairs. Some of the pink roses had opened, and their papery floral scent perfumed the air. It was one of those pleasantly warm spring evenings that reminded me of the summer soon to come. The chirping of crickets, the angle of the setting sun, and the still air gave the evening a magical feel. Elspeth poured from the pitcher, the ice cubes clinking together like the bells of a wind chime.
“It’s iced green tea.” She handed me the cool glass, and I snagged a cookie from the plate.
“Delicious,” I mumbled around a mouthful of cookie. The tea was earthy and sweet.
“Thanks.” Elspeth sipped her drink. “Last time you were here, we were talking about Adelaide Hamilton. I don’t suppose any of her family members consigned her recipe books to your bookstore, did they?”
“No, but I hear her daughter-in-law, Lisa, is in the market to sell some of the family belongings. I don’t think she’ll bring the books to me, though. I heard she was selling them to Felicity Bates.”
Elspeth’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second at the mention of Felicity. “Oh, really? I don’t see why the Bates family would need any more things. They’re quite wealthy themselves, and their mansion is stuffed to the gills.”
“Tell me about it.” I’d been inside the mansion, not that I wanted to remember. They certainly didn’t need any of the Hamilton family items, but I suspected Felicity’s offer to purchase was really a ploy to get her hands on the spell book.
Elspeth pressed her lips together. “Some members of Adelaide’s family are not quite on the up and up, if you know what I mean. I don’t think it’s Lisa’s place to be selling things off.”
“It seems like a very unusual family dynamic over there. Did you know them well?”
Probable Paws (Mystic Notch Cozy Mystery Series Book 5) Page 9
