Scent of a Killer: An Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic Cozy Mystery (Ella Sweeting: Witch Aromatherapist Cozies Book 1)
Page 1
Scent of a Killer
an Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic cozy mystery
Lisbeth Reade
PUBLISHED BY:
Lisbeth Reade
Copyright © 2015
www.LisbethReade.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Table of Contents
Sign up for Lisbeth’s Newsletter
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
More from Lisbeth Reade
Sign up for Lisbeth’s Newsletter
Click here to find out about new releases and get special early bird discounts.
Chapter One
“Ella, you are a miracle worker!” Denise VonHaughton took the tiny vial in her hands and hugged it before making it disappear into her pocket. “Now go over the instructions with me again, please. I want to get this exactly right.”
I smiled at the willowy Denise. “It’s calming oil, not a soufflé recipe. Relax. Put five drops in a hot bath and soak yourself. Then get dressed and go out there and get the guy.”
“Oh, okay, okay.” Denise fluttered her hands a bit. “I am so nervous. I want to ask David out. He’s the tall dark, mysterious banker down on 3rd. Yvonne’s been after him for weeks but I’m a ninny when it comes to talking to men. I panic. This time I am going in prepared. Don’t suppose you have something to make him fall madly in love with me? Hm?”
“Denise,” I said with a laugh, and gave her arm a light touch in an attempt to calm her. “Be yourself! You’re charming enough to snag any businessman. Oh, and put some lavender in your pocket.” I walked Denise to the door.
“Girard,” I called.
Girard was my parents’ majordomo. He handled absolutely everything in the house, including baking me cookies (well, the cook did the cooking, but cookies were Girard’s domain).
“Miss VonHaughton is ready to leave. Can you get her coat?”
The tiny Englishman nodded.
“See you soon Denise?”
“Oh, I will text you the minute I know anything, the second, even. Cheryl told me what happened after you gave her that mint concoction. Promotion, raise, date with the hot secretary, and she found that kitten in that new vegetarian place. She couldn’t be happier, and now I’m next!”
Girard returned and I waved Denise out. I was ready for a break, but the door just popped right back open.
“Did you forget something, Denise?” I asked.
“What?” An extremely coiffed Mother entered, arms full of shopping. Her blue eyes were wild. “Oh, never mind. Close all the doors and windows, darling! Girard, douse the lights. Maybe they’ll go away.”
What?
“Maybe who will go away?”
“Oh, no one darling, nothing to worry about. Why don’t you just go back to your potions and things or whatever else it is that you do since lawyer-ing was beyond you?” Mother twitched the curtains closed as the lights went out. “Really, darling, do go upstairs. I’ll handle this.”
“Handle what, Mother?”
“Nothing!”
The doorbell rang.
Mother jumped, flapping her hands in the air. “Shoo shoo, upstairs!”
“Is this about my birthday?” I asked hopefully. “I know last year we had the big party because I was turning twenty-one, but really I was just thinking that for my twenty-second I could just go for drinks with my friends. Skip the gold flakes and top shelf vodka. Maybe order a pizza.”
“No! Your birthdays are all precious diamonds to me, my darling. Even if those are the only diamonds you have at the moment.” She tapped her ring finger.
Sigh. Only engagement rings counted, in her eyes.
“But yes, this is about plans. Go upstairs now.”
“Shall I answer the door, madam?”
“No, you shan’t,” Mother snapped.
The doorbell rang several times more, and then the knocking began.
Mother jumped higher. “Maybe we could build a barricade?” She looked frantically around. But before she could start building, the door burst open.
“We’re here!” Petite, with dark hair cut in a 60’s bob, the first woman practically fell over an enormous steamer trunk. Behind her stood a stately older woman in a black silk dress holding two cats in her arms and a blonde with feathered bangs and a bright smile.
“Who’s here?” I asked. This was shaping up into a pretty interesting day.
“Why, your Aunts, of course,” answered the stately woman. Her cats meowed. “Don’t tell me that Jeanie didn’t tell you we were coming? Oh well, isn’t that so like her.”
“Why are you here?”
“Oh,” the 60’s bob aunt said. “We’re here for your birthday, of course.”
I tilted my head, feeling rather like a confused dog. “And you are…?”
Three sets of eyes turned hotly toward Mother.
“You mean to tell me,” began the stately woman, “that you really, truly have no idea who we are?”
“No,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” grumbled Mother, crossing her arms.
“We are your great sunts,” the 60’s bob said with a big smile. “I’m Aunt Sarah. This blonde here is Auntie Joe and this is your Aunt Hazel. We’ve come for your birthday.”
It was an odd feeling standing there with the Aunts watching me and Mother radiating silent but apoplectic annoyance. To break the tension I plastered on my best hostess smile, clapped my hands together and said, “Great! I’ll make us a reservation for dinner.”
Mother rolled her eyes but gave in to the urge to be a gracious host. “Girard, please take the ladies’ trunks up to the blue, white, and violet rooms. Ladies, tea?”
“Oh yes, please,” said Auntie Joe. “Make sure there are some saucers of milk for those cats, won’t you dear?”
The cats chose that moment to pop loose and start exploring.
“Oh, Livvie, no!” Auntie Joe cried, as the smoky gray cat immediately climbed into my Fiddle Leaf Fig and started relieving herself. The black cat was more dignified and licked a large, baseball sized paw and smoothed his fur. “Sorry Jeanie! They’ve been cooped up for hours.”
Mother gritted her teeth. “Follow me into the library, please.”
Thus began the most uncomfortable and fun half hour I’d ever had. My great aunts were obviously insane. They drank all the tea while talking about distant relations with funny noses and terrible teeth. Mother visibly cringed. Finally she just threw her hands up in the air and quit the room.
Auntie Joe followed her to the door and closed it, effectively locking Mother out. “I thought she would never leave,” she said and wiped a hand across her brow dramatically.
“Better hurry up, Hazel,” Sarah hissed. “Before boring old normal Jeanie comes back.”
Hazel nodded, rolled up her sleeves, and clasped her hands tightly.
“Ella, we are here because of your twenty-second birthday, but it’s more than that. We’ve been tracking you down for the last few years. Your mother has done her level best to keep your wacky aunts away. But we’re just one step ahead of her.”
I crossed my arms. “My mother is a wonderful woman.”
Aunt Sarah touched me arm gently. “Oh, of course she is, darling, she’s just untalented. That can be hard on a girl in our family.”
Livvie the cat pawed my foot and meowed. I took a deep breath and uncrossed my arms.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Hazel said to the cat. She looked me in the eye and said, “she wants to know if you’ll be able to understand cats soon.”
I raised an eyebrow. “The cat said that?”
“Yes, of course.”
Well, then.
“This is crazy, you know,” I muttered. Talking cats? Loony aunts? Should I follow my mom out of the room and call the police? “Cats can’t talk.”
They laughed. Aunt Sarah actually guffawed. Even the cat appeared to be laughing at me.
“Well, of course they can!” Aunt Sarah shook her head at me. “You just need your mind opened. Good with aromatherapy, aren’t you?”
I nodded hesitantly, not seeing the connection.
She continued. “As in, really almost magically good with aromatherapy? As in, you give them something for healing and they run a marathon? Or end up meeting their perfect mate or pet?”
“I just mix essential oils…” I stammered. “Well, once I mixed up some massage oil and the woman found herself with a new and exciting man. Oh, and the last client ended up with a cat.”
Example after example flashed through my mind. Come to think of it, my aromatherapy chops were pretty amazing sometimes.
“I think I cured a friend’s depression once. Is that possible with peppermint oil?”
“Not just with peppermint oil.” Auntie Joe said with a wink.
“Maybe with a tiny kiss of magic,” Aunt Sarah said.
These girls were crazy, a voice in the back of my mind said. But a tinier voice whispered, but what if they’re right? But they couldn’t be right.
Could they?
Aunt Sarah grabbed my hands. “Okay, let’s try some magic.”
She picked up one of the candles in the drawing room and it lit, seemingly on its own. She winked her left eye and the candle went out. When she winked her right it lit up again.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“Oh, it’s just a little trick, the winking is for show. Making fire is complicated but snuffing it out is easy. Come on, try.”
She held the lit candle out to me. I took it and the fire danced for me.
“What do I do?”
“Oh, you reach out with your mind and imagine yourself blowing out the candle. Give it a try,” Aunt Sarah said.
“Oh, do try,” Auntie Joe said, almost clapping.
“No pressure,” I muttered.
I stared at the fire and imagined myself blowing it out like a birthday candle. Nothing happened. I tried again, straining. I imagined myself in a party dress and imagined the candle was on top of a birthday cake and mentally blew it out. All the while, the flame still danced. Frustrated, I handed the candle back to Aunt Sarah.
“I can’t do it. Not sure why I would think I could,” I said brazenly, but inside I felt a bit defeated.
Aunt Hazel searched through one of her cardigan’s pockets and pulled out a large black seed. She held her hand out to me. “Do you know how to make this grow?”
“Sure, you soak it overnight in water and then you plant it in potting soil…” I trailed off as the three Aunts gave me very droll stares.
“No sweetie,” Auntie Joe said. “With magic. She wants to know if you know how to grow it with magic.”
“Of course I don’t,” I said sharply. “That’s silly.” My pride might have still been stinging from the candle failure. I tried not to cross my arms and pout.
“Touch the seed and will it to grow,” Hazel said, extending her palm, the fat black seed staring at me accusingly.
“No,” I whispered.
I don’t know why but I was suddenly afraid. Aunt Hazel took my shaky hand into her cool and steady one, and dropped the seed into it.
“Close your eyes.”
I tried to protest and she shook my hand firmly. I closed one eye and glared balefully at her with the other.
“Now, send a little wisp of energy into the seed and ask it nicely if it wouldn’t mind growing up a bit for us.”
I felt stupid, but I obeyed. I closed my other eye. I thought hard about how insane this was, and then for fun I thought how ’bout you grow for me, little seed? I felt weak for a second like I had just jumped up and down.
“Oh,” Aunt Sarah whispered.
My hand tickled. I opened my eyes and saw a tiny seedling in my hand. It was still growing. Soon it put out leaves and it got heavier in my hand until a few buds appeared and it bloomed into russet flowers with black hearts. I then did what any sane person would do. I yelped and dropped it.
“That is not possible,” I said, pointing a shaky finger toward the plant that Auntie Joe had caught an inch from the glossy oak floor. “How did that happen?”
“You did it, dear,” Aunt Sarah said with a wink. She turned to the others. “I knew she could do it! She has the gift, and you both owe me dinner.”
“No one doubted that you had powers, dear,” Hazel countered, glaring at Sarah. “We just weren’t sure how much access you would have to your abilities living in this house, going stagnant. You should have been training for years.”
“I don’t believe in magic,” I whispered to no one in particular.
“That’s a shame,” Auntie Joe said with a laugh, “Because all your Aunties are witches and so are quite a few of your cousins.”
“Cousins?”
Mother had never mentioned cousins. I had cousins. It was an odd feeling, having all this family just turn up in one shot. Three aunts were more than enough for my mind to digest at the moment, thank you very much.
Hazel waved a hand. “Never mind about those layabouts. We’re talking about you. Now stretch out your hands.”
I did, feeling stupid. Then I got dizzy and nearly wobbled to the floor.
“Grab her,” Aunt Hazel said sternly. “She’s going to be weak. That was a lot of magic for a young witch. We need to get her fed up.”
“I made a reservation at DiMarco’s,” I told Aunt Hazel. “Girard will bring the car around and we can go.”
In the foyer I called for Girard. He appeared, as dapper as ever, but his eyes kept flicking not-so-subtly to my brand new aunts, as if he didn’t trust them.
“Where’s Mother?”
“Mrs. Sweeting has gone to Mrs. Vanessa Stewart’s for a game of bridge. She said that you had quite enough to occupy you for the moment.” He frowned at the Aunts. “Also, Mr. Sweeting has called to let you know he will be home well after midnight and to not hold dinner.”
“Thank you, Girard. We’ve made a reservation anyway for DiMarco’s. Can you bring the car around?”
“Certainly,” he said.
In minutes my three aunts and I were seated near the windows at DiMarco’s and being shown the wine list. The tiny Italian restaurant was super exclusive, so I usually knew who everyone there was. Auntie Joe was ooh-ing over the quaint round tables with their white tablecloths and sterling silver forks.
“So there’s magic,” I said casually, as the waiter left to get the wine. “This is really bizarre.”
“Yes, of course there is magic!” Auntie Joe announced, and was quickly shushed by her sisters. “Lucky thing we got here in time, too.”
“In time?” I asked, thinking I might get both the ravioli and the gnocchi, I was that starved.
“Oh, yes,” Aunt Hazel said. “If we hadn’t gotten here when we did you might never have been able to access your magic. You would have been normal, like your mother.” She looked nearly mournful.
/> I closed my mouth, unsure of what to say. The waiter returned and took our orders. “How does it work?”
“Oh, many people in our family line are magical,” Aunt Sarah told her. “It’s been going on for generations. Thing is, if you don’t access your magic by your twenty-second birthday you sort of…can’t. No one really knows why. So that’s why we’ve all popped up.”
“Just in time,” Auntie Joe said with a giggle. “No thanks to Jeanie.”
Before I could ask about that, Aunt Hazel chimed in. “So, now we need to train you to use your abilities. We need to teach you the basics at least, so you don’t do any magic accidentally. Think how embarrassing that would be! And that leads me to ask if you mind having three daft old witches hanging around you. Or should we rent a place nearby?”
“No! No, of course not, the house is enormous! Of course I want you to stay.” I felt warm all over. Who wouldn’t want three magical aunts living in their house?
Oh, maybe Mother wouldn’t.
Hmm, I would just have to talk to her around to my way of thinking.
When the food arrived I was almost too eager to be polite. But I cut the food into reasonable bites and did not just inhale it. The Aunts did the same, making happy noises over their garlic bread and pasta dishes.
I looked around at the other diners, and spotted Vanessa’s son Max in the crowd. His long hair was greasy and pulled back into what he probably thought was a sophisticated European style. Max had always been fond of European clothes and watches and women. Two or three girls were near him wearing tiny dresses.
I lost him in the crowd while we ate. But a few times I looked up and saw him staring at me. Ugh, he just dripped, he was so greasy. I put my fork down in disgust. He winked. I rolled my eyes and turned to listen to something Aunt Hazel was saying when I realized I didn’t see his twin in the crowd. That was weird. They were usually connected at the hip.
The restaurant was filling fast and soon everyone was touching elbows. I turned back to the Aunts but couldn’t help notice Max head for the bathroom with a guy who looked twice as sleazy as him in a slick sharkskin suit and pink dress shirt open to his navel. Double ugh.