Somehow, the woman heard me through the crowd and locked eyes with me. She threw up her arms and stomped over to me. The police officer let loose a sigh of relief and walked away. Lucky.
“Miss Foster… can you believe the noise level here?” asked Charline.
“Are you already trying to sleep?” I asked, checking my phone. It was hardly after six, and the sun wasn’t down.
“Oh, I’m not trying to sleep yet. I know this song and dance, though. If I don’t make it known that the rest of the community won’t stand for this event lasting into the late hours of the night, then they’ll never stop! I’ve never seen so many useless policemen standing around, not asking people to lower their voices. There’s no reason for it, no reason for it at all.”
“I have a feeling she doesn’t get invited to many parties,” mumbled Bart.
“I’m sorry if you find the cook-off to be too loud, but I don’t think it will be going on for much longer,” I said.
“Oh, goodie!” she exclaimed, a smile almost breaking across her face. Before it could happen, however, her eyes narrowed and focused on me. “Wait a minute… why do you say that? You’re not in charge of this event. Are you just like the police officers, trying to calm me down with lies?”
“No,” I said. I didn’t blame the officers for trying to get her out of their hair. “One of the cook-off competitors died.”
“Really?” asked Charline, placing a hand over her heart and eyes widening. “Would I know who it was?”
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “Marvin Novak, he was a-”
“The firefighter!” she said finished.
“You knew him?”
“I always try to get to know our customers. While our upper management doesn’t seem to think that customer service matters, I’ve always been of the mind that if your customers are happy, they will want to keep coming back and shopping with us. Management would probably understand that, if they bothered to be with the customers from time to time.”
“Charline… I know you’re obviously referring to me…”
“Marvin was a great customer,” she continued, ignoring me. “He was a bit chatty, mind you, always wanting to see how we were doing. It was nice of him, but it caused the lines to slow down. You know how I can’t stand it when people are so chatty.”
“Clearly,” I said, glancing down at Bart. The cat listened to Charline with a mixture of annoyance and awe on his face. The hypocrisy of listening to someone drone on about how they don’t like people who talk a lot was truly something to behold.
“Must say I’m surprised to hear that he passed away,” she finished. “He was relatively young for something like that to happen. What killed him, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“No one knows yet.”
“Ah. That would be why you’re still here then, isn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?” I asked, confused.
“You’ve always got to run around and do your investigating, don’t you?” asked Charline. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you in the past year, but you’ve really gotten into the habit of looking into other people’s business. Some people would call that being quite nosy, you know?”
“You know I’ve helped solve several crimes, right?” I said defensively. Maybe I was taking more of an active interest in events than I used to, but it wasn’t without some positives coming out of it.
“Have you?” she asked. “I don’t pay much attention to it. Not for me.”
“She’s too busy taking note of everything people do wrong to notice when people do things right,” added Bart.
“I should be off,” continued Charline. “I’ve got some reading to do before I finally attempt to get some sleep tonight. Who knows how that will go, if this party keeps on going? You’d think that someone dying would scare people off, but it doesn’t appear to have made much of a difference.”
“See you at the store tomorrow,” I said, thankful to have the rest of the evening Charline-free. The woman didn’t respond as she shouted at people to get out of her way, trying to exit the crowd.
“One of these days she’s going to need your help, and I don’t think you should give it to her,” said Bart.
“Of course I would help Charline if she needed it,” I said, continuing on my way past several chili stations. “She means well.”
“Does she?”
“Most of the time. Well, some of the time, at least.”
We finally made it to Mary’s station, where she was helping a few people to samples of her chili. I waited off to the side for her to finish serving before walking up to her.
“Hi, Mary,” I smiled. “Remember me?”
“Absolutely,” she smiled back. “How are you enjoying the cook-off, Zoey?”
“I was enjoying it very much before Marvin died.”
“I heard!” she said, a frown on her face. “What a terrible thing to happen to such a nice man. I wish I was there, maybe there were some herbs I could’ve used to help him.”
“If only,” I nodded. I wasn’t sure if there was something she could’ve done, but maybe she could’ve helped. If she wasn’t the one who poisoned him in the first place, that is. “Have you been to any other chili cook-offs before?”
“Of course,” said Mary. “I love going to these.”
“Did it ever bother you that Marvin always won these competitions?” I asked.
“Honestly? Not really,” shrugged Mary.
“Didn’t you want to win, though?” I pressed. Why enter multiple of these competitions if you didn’t want to win it all?
“I would’ve been happy to win, but it wasn’t why I do these. My real purpose is to introduce people to using different plants and herbs in their daily life. Many people don’t think to add lilac to their cooking, for example, but after having a taste of my chili, they might be inspired to start using some in an occasional dish at home!”
That seemed consistent with what we knew about Mary so far. However, she still had that deadly plant with her. “Could I take a look at your wolfsbane again?”
“Of course,” she smiled, turning around and grabbing the jar.
“Mind if I hold it?” I asked.
“No problem,” she said, reaching it out to me. “Be very careful with it!”
Taking hold of the jar, I turned it over slowly to see if there was anything out of the ordinary I could see. There looked to be the same amount of flowers as before, and the jar looked exactly like it was when we first saw it.
“I guess I was wrong,” I mumbled.
“Wrong about what, dear?” asked Mary.
“I thought this might have been the culpri-Oh!” I exclaimed, the jar slipping from my hands as I tried to hand it back to the botanist.
The jar bounced off the grass, thankfully not breaking, but when it landed the lid fell off without much effort. The wolfsbane spilled out onto the grass, peaking out from inside of the jar by an inch or so.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, bending down to scoop the plant back inside.
“Don’t touch it!” shouted Mary, trying to push me back with her hands. “It’s incredibly poisonous, even to the touch!”
“S-Sorry,” I said, shrinking back away from the plant. That would’ve been bad. “Why don’t you have the lid on tight if it’s such a dangerous plant?”
“I always screw the lid on as hard as I can,” she said, scooping the wolfsbane in with her gloved hands. “As I said, I show this jar to children. Do you really think I’d let them get so close to it and not keep it secured?”
“Why did it pop off so easily, then?” I asked. The jar only had one bounce before the lid fell off, and when I was examining it, I never touched the lid to loosen it.
“That I don’t know,” she mumbled, closely examining the jar herself this time. She looked closely at the plant, then down at the ground. “That’s strange…”
“What’s strange?” I asked.
“A piece of the wolfsbane is missing,” she said slow
ly, looking over the ground. “But that shouldn’t be possible…”
“Did you ever leave your station between the time you got here and when Marvin died?” I asked.
“No, not once,” she said, shaking her head.
“Not even to use the bathroom?” I asked.
“I didn’t run to the bathroom until after asking some customers what all the commotion was about, and learning Marvin passed.”
I thought about it for a moment. Seemed a little bit of a stretch, but I could check with other people to confirm that if I needed to. However, this assured me that wolfsbane was probably the poison that killed Marvin after all. Assuming she was telling the truth, someone took the wolfsbane before I even talked with her.
“Were you at the cook-offs in Ravendale and Springhill?” I asked, changing the topic as she placed the jar behind her again.
“I went to the one in Ravendale, but not Springhill,” she said.
“Really?” I asked. She was on the list for the event in Springhill, but I couldn’t call her out for it without showing that I had it. I’d have to just fudge the truth, a little. “I thought I heard you were at both.”
“I signed up to be at Springhill, but some personal matters came up and I couldn’t make it at the last minute,” she said.
I wanted so badly to ask about what came up, but I knew that would be pushing my luck too far. I’d have to just let that slide for now.
“If she wasn’t at the Springhill one, she couldn’t have murdered the werewolf,” said Bart.
Unless the personal matter was she found out Ned was a werewolf, and she wanted to attack him afterward to give herself an alibi of not being there.
“Did you know Ned McFinn?” I asked.
“Not very well,” she said. “I know it’s not good to speak ill of the dead, but to be honest, I wasn’t much of a fan of his. He always rubbed me the wrong way when he talked. Was never a fan of his chili, either.”
She didn’t like the previous victim, and she probably was the supplier of the murder weapon for this one, whether intentional or not. When we first started talking I thought it couldn’t be her… but now I wasn’t so sure. I also didn’t know how to continue without her getting overly defensive.
“It was nice talking with you again,” I smiled. I couldn’t think of anything else to ask her without coming across accusative. “Good luck with the rest of the cook-off!”
“Oh, that’s all?” she asked. “Okay then! Feel free to come back anytime for a chat!”
Bart and I walked off to the final station I wanted to question. It seemed a little convenient that she didn’t notice a piece of wolfsbane was missing until after I examined it, and also that she never left her station. She wouldn’t have had to leave in order to poison Marvin, but if she didn’t leave, then how could someone have taken it?
I looked back over my shoulder at her. She was staring back at me, a smile on her face. She might have provided the method, but what was her motive?
Chapter 8
“Anyone else you need to talk to?” asked Bart.
“Just John Lorden,” I said. “Hopefully we’ll hear from Derek shortly after. If we don’t, I’m going to have to confront who I think did it.”
Who that was, I wasn’t sure of. I hoped John would help clear some things up. My top two suspects were Mary and Chad, but nothing was certain.
John sat at his station, arms crossed and staring at the crowd with a scowl. Not surprisingly, there wasn’t anyone in his line.
“Hi again,” I smiled as we walked up.
“You again?” he grunted. “Come back to tell me trash my chili is compared to Marvin’s?”
“I never said that,” I said, lifting my hands up to show I meant no harm. “Speaking of Marvin, did you hear what happened?”
“Of course I heard!” he barked. “Do you think I live under a rock, or something?”
“It’s just that I bumped into you as you were walking away from his direction when it happened,” I said, trying to read his face. It was hard seeing if there were different shades of anger for him or not. It all seemed pretty similar. “What were you doing over there, by the way?”
“Are you playing at being a cop now?” he asked. “I already told them what happened. After someone insulted my cooking, I went off to the use the can. It’s in the same area that Marvin died, sure, but I had nothing to do with it.”
His alibi was that he went to the bathroom? That seemed pretty weak.
“Surely you heard all the cries for help as you made your way back,” I said, thinking back.
“I ain’t no doctor,” he said. “What was I gonna do about it?”
“That’s one way to look at it,” I said. That seemed to logically fit him.
“Any other questions I can help answer for you, Miss Detective?”
“You don’t mind?” I asked.
“What do I care,” he shrugged, glaring at all the people passing by. “This event is over from my point of view. I already paid for a hotel tonight, but they told me they’re still getting it ready. That’s Twistchapel for ya. Anyway, I’m just waiting here until they give me a call that I can move my stuff in for the night.”
“Well, do you think there’s a reason why someone would want Marvin dead?” I asked.
“You really think someone killed him, eh?” chuckled John. “I mean, would I have loved him to stop showing up to chili cook-offs in the future? Absolutely. Would killing him, especially right now, be a good move? Nah. If I did it, you’d never find his body.”
“Maybe don’t hang out with this guy in private,” recommended Bart, eyeing him up and down.
I had no intention to.
“I just think some people might feel like they benefit from his death,” I said, trying to be careful with my words. I wanted to see how he’d react to the idea, without me explicitly accusing him of it.
“Are you kidding? Everyone’s going to vote for him now!” he shouted. More than one passerby turned to look at us. “We’ve all lost again! On top of that, these cook-offs are probably a thing of the past now.”
“A thing of the past?”
“First, what happened to Ned. Now this. People are going to be too scared to come to these anymore,” he said, shaking his head. “If someone did kill Marvin, and intentionally, then they ruined the whole thing for all of us.”
“You don’t think they’ll do anymore of these vents?”
“Would you want to cook for an event where the participants die nearly every time?” he laughed. “Hard pass, for the average person. Me? I’m not scared of nothing. But I could see so many people dropping out of future ones that there wouldn’t be enough left to hold the events.”
“That’s too bad,” I said. I would’ve assumed that Marvin would want these to keep going, even though he died at one.
“Now, that one with Ned in Springhill… that was a crazy one,” said John. “I saw the body, you know that? Gruesome, gruesome sight.”
“You saw it?” I asked. How was he in a position to see Ned’s body? Was he involved in the murder?
“I was the one who found him,” he said, shaking his head. “Well, me and another guy.”
“Who was with you?” I asked.
“Another one of the other cook-off contestants. The bald guy, Chad Buchanan.”
Chad was there when they found Ned, and he was there when Marvin died… that had to be it. He had to be the murderer!
“Chad found the body with you?” I asked, trying to contain my excitement at figuring out who killed Marvin. “Was he the one that led you there? How did he act when you guys found Ned? Suspicious at all?”
“Woah, woah, woah,” said John, holding up his hands. “Slow down there, chipmunk. I think I see where you’re going with this, but unfortunately you’re wrong. Chad was with me the whole time I was in Springhill, including that night. We spent a few hours in a bar recommended by a buddy, and Chad had a bit too much to drink. The reason we found Ned was because Ch
ad had to stop to take a leak. He decided to relieve himself on a random gate, and all of a sudden, we heard some lady scream! Naturally, I thought it was because she saw Chad exposing himself in public, but that turned out to be wrong. We rushed to the other side of the gate to apologize to the woman, and instead found Ned’s body.”
I deflated as John talked. Maybe I was wrong. Unless, of course, John was involved and just covering for his accomplice. His bathroom story seemed weak at best, and he was clearly the most aggressive of all the suspects I talked to.
Before I could ask another question, his phone buzzed. He glanced down at it and grunted.
“About time,” he said. “Hotel’s finally ready. This has been fun and all, but I’m gonna take my leave now. The cops know where I’ll be staying tonight, so if the real detectives need anything more from me, I’m sure they’ll say hello.”
Leaving his station to be cleaned up by someone else, he picked up a backpack and left.
“Should we chase after him?” asked Bart. “I could try and hide in his backpack, if you’d like.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m good,” I said. “I’m not sure how much I can trust him, and he doesn’t seem like he wants to talk anymore.”
“Do you know who did it, then?”
I shook my head. Even after talking to nearly everyone I wanted to, I was left with more questions than answers. The only thing I was fairly certain of was that the wolfsbane is what killed Marvin. I had no idea who, or even why, someone would want to. John was probably right when he said Marvin will get even more votes, and I could see this being the end of the chili cook-offs.
Maybe Derek was chasing down the wrong lead, and Marvin was given the wolfsbane by accident. Mary didn’t seem to have total control of the substance, and some might’ve accidentally slipped into the scoop she she gave the firefighter.
“Hey, Miss Foster,” came a voice. I turned to see Jerry, this time alone. “Were you just talking to John?”
“I was,” I nodded.
“That must’ve been rough,” he laughed. “The poor guy is always such a grouch. I ran into him while he was leaving the porta potty earlier, and he practically bit my head off for not getting out of his way in time.”
The Watchful Werewolf Page 5
