Moisture filled Starla’s eyes as she looked at him.
Ve slid me a look. I let out a resigned sigh. Starla might not be able to admit it to herself yet, but it was obvious she’d fallen for this Seeker.
Vince helped her with her coat, and she promised to fill us in when she returned.
Marcus was the last one out the door, and when he turned back, my stomach sank at the apprehensive look on his face. “Wish us luck.”
Both Ve and I did, and as soon as the door closed, Ve said, “Why do I have the feeling he’ll need it?”
I didn’t want to think about it. My stomach churned as I unpacked the treats I’d brought home.
Ve eyed the plate. “Between you and Vince, we have enough to feed the whole village.”
“Some are for Mrs. P, Nick, and Mimi,” I said. “I’m going to shower, and then head out.”
“Mrs. P will enjoy the visit.”
“I’m worried about her.”
Ve draped an arm around me, giving me a quick squeeze. “You’ve a kind heart, Darcy. It gets hurt easily only because of how full it is.” She took a sip of coffee. “Starla mentioned you had a dream about your mother last night. . . . There were tears?”
I leaned against the counter and unexpectedly tears filled my eyes again. “I think I’m just overly emotional this week. Nervous for Starla, for Mrs. P . . .”
“And, of course, your birthday is coming up.”
I rolled my eyes. “I wish people would stop mentioning it.”
“Ah, but I can’t grant that wish, now, can I?”
I drew a circle on the countertop with my fingertip. “I don’t know what the big deal is. It’s just another day.”
“Is it, dear?” She danced her way to the sink to soak dishes. “I don’t think so.”
“What was that?” I asked, pointing to her feet. Distraction at its finest. I didn’t want to talk about my birthday anymore.
“A grapevine.” Her eyes twinkled. “I’m practicing for next Sunday.”
The Swing and Sway dance. Dear heavens. “I can’t believe Terry agreed to this.” He was a private man, and a nudie dance competition didn’t seem his kind of thing.
Her cheeks flushed, and she tittered. “Well, ah, you know men. They’ll do anything for the women they love.”
I eyed her. “Terry is your partner, isn’t he?”
“I’m working on it,” she said dully.
I laughed, and then nearly jumped out of my skin when a tile suddenly popped out of the backsplash, landing with a clatter on the counter. But I quickly realized this was no random tile. It was a doorway.
Pepe stuck his little brown head out of the wall. “Oh, mon Dieu, I thought Vince would never leave!” Pepe hopped onto the counter and dusted off his vest and adjusted his glasses.
“He wasn’t here very long,” Ve said.
“It was an eternity,” Pepe said. “Your walls . . . they are not the cleanest.”
Ve tucked a strand of hair back into her twist. “Hmmph.”
Pepe eyed the plate of goodies. “Is that a cheese Danish I spy?”
I broke off a chunk and handed it to him. He sat, his chubby belly straining the buttons on his vest, and nibbled. “My apologies for the early-morning visit, but I had the most interesting night.”
“Ooh,” Ve said. “Do tell. Did your week of discontent turn into a night of debauchery?”
Pepe blinked at her. “If only . . .”
I smiled at his earnestness.
“It was not I enjoying the debauchery,” he said, “but someone in the village had quite the evening.”
I said, “I’m not sure I want to know” at the same time Ve said, “Who was it?”
I gave her a look.
“What?” she asked innocently. “A little gossip never hurt anyone.”
Pepe said, “I was snooping around Wickedly Creative and the Chadwick homestead, on an eavesdropping mission. . . .”
In the craziness of the past day, I’d completely forgotten he was going to do that.
His beady eyes grew wide. “And what to my wondering ears did I hear but quite the tryst and pillow talk.”
Ve fairly danced with joy and rubbed her hands together. “Who? Who?”
“None other than our good fellow Will Chadwick.”
“Well, I suppose,” I said, “that’s one way to deal with grief.”
Copper eyebrows nearly hit Ve’s hairline as she said, “I bet he’s good in bed. Don’t you think?” she asked me.
“Ve!”
“Oh, come on. Surely I’m not the only one who wonders these types of things.”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, you are.”
“His partner had no complaints,” Pepe said.
Ve winked. “You little voyeur, you.”
With cheeks growing redder by the minute, he said, “Au contraire. When I realized what was going on, I left, and then came back an acceptable amount of time later in time to hear the pillow talk. That’s when things became really interesting.”
“I doubt that,” Ve said, setting her mug in the sink.
I could only shake my head at her. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Tilda creeping down the steps. She liked to “play” with Pepe. He was convinced she was trying to eat him. I wouldn’t put it past her. “What kind of pillow talk?”
Pepe rested his hands on his tummy. “They were speaking about Starla.”
“Who was Will speaking to?” Ve asked. “Who’s his partner?”
“Alas, I do not know. I tried to uncover her identity, but there was an enormous yellow beast with big brown eyes and sharp teeth watching me watch the room . . . he was plotting my demise. Much like Tilda is doing now. Go away!” he shooed her.
She sat on the fourth stair, and her gaze zeroed in on him. Her tail flicked.
“I like her better when she stays with Lew,” Pepe bemoaned.
If it were up to Pepe, she’d live with Lew, the Emoticrafter, permanently.
“Aw,” Ve said, picking up Tilda and rubbing her chin. “She’s just a love bug. Aren’t you?”
Tilda hissed.
Quite the love bug. Ha.
I sat on a stool. “Back to the pillow talk. What were they saying about Starla?”
“It was quite strange,” Pepe said, eyeing Tilda cautiously. “They were speculating what could have happened to Kyle, and how long it would take before it was revealed that his death could not have been a suicide.” He tipped his head. “That theory is bothering the Chadwick family quite a bit.”
I guessed that Nick hadn’t yet shared the information about a possible poisoning with Kyle’s family. “Why are they so certain it wasn’t suicide?”
“Because apparently there was no way Kyle could have transported himself to Starla’s home.”
“He couldn’t? Why not?” Ve asked.
I added, “He seemed to be getting around the village just fine to see Starla. Invisibly, yes, but still.”
Pepe twirled his whiskers. “Because according to what I overheard . . . Kyle Chadwick’s legs were paralyzed.”
Chapter Eighteen
Pepe decided to tag along with me to visit Mrs. P, and we found her easily enough in the dining room of the Pixie Cottage, draped in a hot pink caftan, sipping tea near the bed and breakfast’s stone fireplace.
I’d tried to get in touch with Nick to tell him about Kyle supposedly being paralyzed, but he wasn’t answering his cell phone. I left him a message to call me as soon as possible.
Paralyzed. It was hard to believe, but I immediately knew it had to be true. It made perfect sense now why Kyle’s family was so concerned he’d disappeared—because he couldn’t just walk away on his own.
But knowing that he had been paralyzed opened new questions. How was he getting around town just fine in order to see Starla? Was he killed at his tree house and moved to Starla’s place? It wouldn’t have been easy carrying his body through those woods—or town—without being seen by someone. . . .
Oh! Especially someone who had a fascination with video surveillance. I made a mental note to ask Vince if he had footage from Friday night. Maybe he had evidence and didn’t realize it.
High arched windows let in plenty of light, brightening the cottage’s dining room, which was filled with nature-inspired decor. Lots of heavy wooden pieces, twig tables and chairs. Harmony had truly brought the outdoors inside with her interior designing.
I skirted a pale purple armchair and Mrs. P looked up. She brightened when she saw me and positively lit up when Pepe peeked out from behind the curtain of my hair—he’d been sitting on my shoulder.
“A stowaway!” she cackled, then looked around. “Let’s go back to my quarters, shall we?”
The other guests in the dining room of the charming little B and B barely paid us any attention, but a talking mouse would surely catch them off guard.
I followed Mrs. P down a short hallway to her suite. Once upon a time, she’d owned the inn, but when she had financial troubles a few years ago, she sold it to Harmony with the promise that she could live out the rest of her days here.
My chest ached when I realized that the end might be sooner than any of us thought.
At room number four, Mrs. P slipped a key in the lock and turned the handle. The space was as whimsical as the woman who lived there. A huge canopy bed made of branches took up a good portion of the room and two mirrored nightstands flanked the bed. There were a couple of upholstered arm chairs, a small dining table, and a tiny kitchenette.
As she entered, Mrs. P nudged the thermostat in the room and the heat came on. I thought it was plenty warm in the room already. Tropics warm. I set Pepe on the table and began to unwrap my scarf and unzip my coat.
“I can’t seem to chase away this chill,” she said, pulling a throw blanket onto her lap as she sat in one of the upholstered chairs. “Sit, sit. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I wished I’d worn a T-shirt instead of a sweater as I handed her a plate of pastries. “We brought you some goodies.”
A penciled eyebrow shot up. “These are merely a tasty ruse; you’re checking up on me.”
“Guilty,” I said, studying her. The spikes of her hair were wilted, and her black eyeliner had smudged beneath her eyes. False eyelashes were coming unglued and stuck out a bit, giving her a somewhat crazed look. “We’re worried about you.”
“How are you feeling?” Pepe asked, sitting on the edge of the table.
“You two are dears but I’m fine. Just fine. A tiny dizzy spell isn’t going to keep me down for long. I’m simply placating Cherise by taking it easy today. Otherwise, I’d be getting Lotions and Potions ready to open instead of sitting here whiling away my time. Now tell me all the news. What’s the latest with Starla?”
Pepe and I filled her in on all the latest developments.
“That’s all we know,” I said as we finished telling her about Kyle’s paralysis. “And we only know that thanks to Pepe overhearing a conversation between Will and a lady friend.”
“Way to bury the lead, Darcy,” Mrs. P said, her eyes lighting. Bright red lipstick had seeped beyond her lips, giving her a Joker-ish appearance. “Lady friend? Who’s this lady friend?”
“A mystery lady friend,” I said. “Pepe didn’t see a face.”
“Not for lack of trying. There was a beast,” he explained. “A big one. With sharp teeth.”
Mrs. P said, “And you probably looked pretty tasty.”
He nodded. “A midnight snack of the highest caliber.”
Mrs. P cackled. “The absolute highest. Now, if Kyle was paralyzed, how did he get to Starla’s town house?”
“That’s the million dollar question right now.”
“Surely the police don’t believe Starla brought him there?” she said. “That’s ludicrous.”
“I’m not sure they’re aware he was paralyzed.” I glanced at my watch. “I’m curious about this new evidence the police supposedly have. I’m waiting for Nick to call me back.”
“I can’t imagine Mademoiselle Starla will be at the police station much longer,” Pepe said.
Mrs. P shrugged. “Unless they’ve arrested her.”
“Bite your tongue!” I cried.
She tipped her head. “It’s best to be prepared for the worst.”
I had the sinking feeling she was right. I just didn’t want to believe it. Standing, I said, “I should get going. Mrs. P, you’ll call if you need anything.”
She waved a hand. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll call?” I pressed.
She sighed. “I’ll call.”
Pepe hopped to his feet and bowed. “Perhaps you’d do me the honor of dinner tomorrow night?”
Aha. So Pepe had won the battle with Godfrey for the date with Mrs. P.
Mrs. P straightened, a pleased smile plumping her hollow cheeks. “I’m the one who will be honored to join you. But perhaps . . .”
“Oui?”
“Perhaps,” she said, “if you have some free time now you’d like to stay and play an old lady in a game of poker?”
Pepe smiled and glanced at me. “Ma chère, I do believe I’ll find my own way home later. I’ll be staying with my friend Eugenia a little while longer.”
I glanced between the two of them. “You two stay out of trouble.”
Mrs. P laughed, her cackle reverberating off the walls. “Just try to stop us.”
As I walked out, I glanced back as Mrs. P pulled out a deck of cards. Pepe was already boasting his superior playing skills and she promised to test him sorely.
Seeing them together gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling, even as I headed back into the cold.
* * *
Head down against the suddenly gusting wind, I turned toward Old Forest Lane—Nick and Mimi’s street. Even though Nick was working, I could still get a small dose of normal by spending some time with Mimi. She was sure to love the box of pastries I had with me. No one had a sweet tooth like she did.
Deep snowbanks bracketed the cobblestoned street, but the twisting sidewalk had been shoveled. I passed by Glinda Hansel’s cottage and had to admit it looked charming with its snow-covered eaves and bluish purple paint. Windows were dark with shades drawn and the garage door was closed, which made sense since she was probably at the police station grilling my best friend.
The farther I walked down the street, the more the houses spread out. At the end of the lane, I spotted Nick and Mimi’s place, a quaint yellow farmhouse with a wide front porch, a picket fence, and an oversized workshop garage behind the house.
I pushed open the front gate and was surprised to see Nick’s police car in the driveway. It was hard to miss, being that it was a black-and-yellow MINI Cooper. I called it the Bumblebeemobile and thought it was about as intimidating as a frosted cupcake. Maybe Nick had walked to work today? Or taken a ride from Glinda?
That latter thought had me gritting my teeth. Okay, so maybe I was a little jealous of her feelings for Nick. A teeny tiny bit. Even though I was confident Nick had zero feelings for her, I couldn’t help but want her out of his life. I didn’t much like this about myself, so I took a few deep breaths, told myself to let it go, wished it were that easy.
The stone walkway had been shoveled and sanded, and I carefully navigated the porch steps before knocking on the front door. Higgins, a Saint Bernard, immediately started barking. If I were a burglar, his sonorous woofs would have me scurrying off as fast as my feet could carry me. Mimi swished aside the sidelight curtain and peeked out. When she spotted me, her eyes widened and a smile stretched her cheeks to their limit.
My heart swelled at her reaction as I heard locks tumbling.
“Higgins, back! Back!” I heard her say as the door cracked open. She wedged her body into the opening and said to me, “Hurry!”
I pushed inside, and quickly closed the door behind me, leaning against it. “Come here, Higgins,” I said, patting my chest. It was better to get the licking over with right off the bat.
; Tongue lolling, Higgins propped his giant paws on my shoulders and commenced bathing my face with his slobbery tongue.
“All right, all right,” I cried after a few seconds, shoving him backward. “That’s enough, or we’re going to have to get married.”
Mimi giggled as Higgins’ tail slashed the air as he pranced around my feet.
“Yuck!” I wiped my face with my scarf.
Mimi said, “There’s no getting used to the drool.”
She looked sleep-rumpled and adorable in a pair of sweatpants, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and fuzzy socks. Her hair stuck out every-which-way.
I said, “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” She was almost a full-fledged teenager, so it wasn’t out of the question for her to sleep past eleven in the morning.
She waved me into the family room. “Just watching TV. There’s a Gilmore Girls marathon on, and you know I can’t resist that.”
The show was one of her favorites. I also noticed she had a paperback of The Hobbit on the coffee table along with an empty cereal bowl and a spoon.
I dangled the pastry box. “I hope you saved some room.”
Her eyes widened. “Please tell me there’s a chocolate croissant in there. Pleasepleaseplease.”
“There is.”
She squealed and reached for the box before flopping back onto the sofa. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”
I sat next to her on the sofa.
Higgins tried to join me, but Mimi snapped her fingers and said, “Bed!” in a stern voice. “Are you here for Dad because he’s— Bed, Higgins!” She pointed.
Higgins lumbered over to his bed and lay down with a huff.
I laughed. “He knows who’s boss. I hope you don’t mind that I dropped by. I just needed . . . some normal.”
She smiled around the croissant in her mouth. “We’re your normal?” Her hand shot up to catch falling crumbs, but her eyes were wide with hope.
She wore her heart on her sleeve, this girl. I tugged her into a hug. “Absolutely.”
Footsteps sounded on the wooden stairs and I twisted around to see who else was here, surprised we weren’t alone.
Nick rubbed a towel over his wet hair and said, “I thought I heard voices.”
The Goodbye Witch Page 16
