Scent of a Killer: An Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic Cozy Mystery (Ella Sweeting: Witch Aromatherapist Cozies Book 1)

by Lisbeth Reade

  Aunt Hazel tapped her ice tea glass to get our attention. “Ella is on the cusp of her twenty-second birthday. As a full-grown woman your powers will grow every year now until you hit your magical peak around sixty or so. So, welcome. May your powers be as great as our matriarch Elina’s. May a cat find you soon, and may you cast only the most helpful of spells.”

  The Aunts clapped. I felt heat in my cheeks. This was turning into a very eventful birthday.

  When the bill arrived, Aunt Sarah stood up. She took her big bag with her as she raced off to the ‘little witches’ room.’ Auntie Joe was having trouble with the bill.

  I turned to face her. “It’s simple, I’m paying. You’re my guests.”

  “Oh, no, you are not! It’s your birthday!” The bill twitched away from my outstretched fingers.

  “I insist,” I insisted.

  “Don’t argue with your Aunts,” Aunt Hazel cautioned.

  I raised my hands in surrender. “Fine, you win!”

  I shifted my gaze to the restrooms just in time to see Aunt Sarah, who’d been hurrying towards us, crash into someone headed in the opposite direction. Aunt Sarah’s bag fell to the ground. I started to get up to help her but she was already back up and heading for the table.

  “Clumsy me,” she said with a laugh. “Hopefully neither one of us is concussed.”

  “Who did you hit?”

  “A lovely young woman who was incredibly understanding. She even helped me gather everything back up into my bag. Well, are we ready?”

  “Yes,” I said, and we headed back out to the car.

  I was exhausted when we got home, and headed to my room just as the clock struck midnight. Mother came in as I was removing a shoe. I dropped it. “How was it at Vanessa’s?”

  “Same as ever. She cheated at cards and I think she took my phone. We’ll just have to go over in the morning and get it, darling. She might have taken my bracelet, too. That old thief! Never take your eyes off her, dear! It’s probably on the bureau in her bedroom by now. That woman!” Mother shook her fist but the tension drained out of her. “So, you’ve done it. You’ve met your aunts. I suppose they tried to fill you with that magic nonsense?”

  I opened my mouth, but Mother was still talking. “Your grandmother, may she rest in peace, was always going on about the magic in our world. So much so that when I didn’t buy into her delusions she became very angry with me. I would hope you were practical enough to not fall in with such rubbish.”

  I touched her arm. “I could never be very angry with you, Mother.”

  She surprised me with a tight hug. “Happy Birthday, darling,” she breathed into my hair. I held on a few seconds, feeling the love down to my bones. She pulled back and knocked a stray lock of hair out of my eyes. “You look just like me.”

  “No,” I told her. “You have always been way more beautiful than me.”

  She laughed. “Flatterer. You get that sweet talk from your father. I’ve ordered you a cake and I suppose the party will be family only. Can’t have anyone running into those three lunatics. I hope you don’t mind, darling,” Mother said pouting a bit. I didn’t mind, but she sure did.

  “Why don’t you like them?”

  “They’re wonderful old women, darling, but they will fill your head so full of nonsense you won’t be able to see straight and then I’ll never get you married off, will I? You’ll become a Bohemian like them. Old maids, all three of them. No one should have to be alone. What would I do without your father?”

  “Mother, sometimes you are so old-fashioned,” I said with a wink.

  She huffed. “Yes, I am. Well, here.” She dropped a small box into my hands. “Happy birthday. This was my mother’s.”

  I held the tiny box reverently. With shaking fingers I pulled the bow and the wrapping melted away from the black jewelry box. Nestled inside was an emerald bracelet. “Oh,” I gasped. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

  Mother hugged me and put it on my wrist. “I always had trouble with the clasp.” She struggled for a second and it locked into place. “Hopefully it will bring you good luck.”

  She kissed my forehead. “Remember what’s important dear: Money, social standing, and a good marriage.”

  I mouthed the words with her; I knew that line by heart.

  “Goodnight my darling,” she said, and left me alone.

  I climbed into bed, exhausted and confused. My head was spinning with all sorts of new ideas and possibilities. I touched the bracelet, trying to remember what my grandmother had looked like. Was she tall like Aunt Hazel? Blonde like Mother?

  I fell asleep with the feeling her eyes had been just like mine.

  Chapter Two

  “It’s not waking up,” whispered a voice near my ear.

  “Don’t call it an ‘it,’ that’s rude,” a second voice said. “It’s a she. Hit it in the face again. That should do it.”

  “Oy, wake up.”

  Something light and leathery tapped my nose and then my cheek. I opened one eye and screeched. The cats leapt off the bed and disappeared under the bed. One whispered, “You hit her too hard and broke her! What are we going to tell Sarah?”

  “Cats,” I breathed. My voice sounded crusty. “Talking cats?”

  “It’s starting to make sense again,” came a voice from under the bed. “Get it to give us breakfast.”

  The door opened and Auntie Joe’s blue eyes appeared. “Livvie, Trouble,” she called.

  I pointed under the bed. Trouble came out sheepishly, Livvie right behind her. “We only wanted food. She’s the owner of the house, is she not? I claim hospitality rights!”

  “So last night wasn’t a dream,” I whispered.

  “Of course not, dear. If it had been you would most likely be insane. Cats don’t talk in your old world.” Auntie Joe said with a laugh. “I heard you screech. Better response than mine I’m afraid. I tossed old Mr. Whiskers up in the air. He only wanted a cuddle, poor dear. Bit shocking, though.”

  “I’m a witch,” I said aloud, rather unconvincingly.

  “Yes, dear.” Auntie Joe sat down on the edge of my bed. “A twenty-two year old witch. Happy Birthday! We’ve made you breakfast. It made poor Girard’s eyes pop, but we’ve sent him off to get us more syrup. We should have a few minutes before he comes back.” She turned to the cats. “If you had waited in the kitchen I would have fed you when the pancakes were done.”

  They stuck their tails in the air and quit the room without a backward glance. Auntie Joe glared at them.

  “Cats,” she said, with a shake of her head. She took my hand and led me out of the room, rather determinedly. I just managed to grab my robe on the way.

  In the kitchen Mother and Father were already at the table. Father was tucking into a mountain of bacon. Mother looked green.

  “Good morning,” I called.

  “Happy birthday, darling!” Father came over and gave me a sticky hug. He smelled like ham and eggs and lots of syrup. “Wonderful morning, isn’t it? Lovely breakfast spread. Your aunts were just telling me a very silly story about talking cats. Nonsense, of course, but wonderful. Sleep well?”

  “Yes,” I said, watching him slip back to his place with a muffin in one hand and a plate of bacon in the other.

  Mother smiled and waved me next to her. “He’s trying to have a heart attack this week,” she stage-whispered.

  “Better this week than next, I say!” Father saluted with a piece of bacon. He winked at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. My parents were very much enamored of each other, mostly because my father was smart enough to let Mother do what she wanted with little interference.

  The cats squabbled over bacon under the table and I did my best to ignore them. There was enough going on without giving in to the very real panic I felt at having talking cats just wandering around my home. It made the ‘witch’ thing feel real, very odd and oh, so real.

  “Is that French toast?” I asked. putting on my happy mask.

  Aunt Sar
ah took my plate and held it next to the platter. Slices of French toast shot onto it, so fast I couldn’t really make out her hands moving. I gulped. Were they moving? A sinking feeling in my stomach whispered that this was probably more magic, and Aunt Sarah’s wily wink seemed to corroborate that.

  “So, today we are going to get to know you and take you birthday shopping and teach you some things.” She winked again when she said “things,” and it didn’t take much guessing to figure out what she meant. A little shivery thrill ran up and down my spine. Did I want to learn a few things?

  “No, you will not,” Mother interrupted. “We are going over to Vanessa’s to get my bracelet and my phone and to tell her she can’t be rich and a kleptomaniac. People will talk. Mind you, with how her husband carries on she would need a distracting hobby. But never the less, it cannot and will not be purloining my possessions. So eat up.”

  “Speaking of the missing,” Auntie Joe asked Aunt Hazel, “did you find your athame?”

  Aunt Hazel frowned. “No. I haven’t. Could I have given it to you, Sarah?”

  Aunt Sarah wrinkled her eyebrows. “Maybe… yes, I think you did. I’ll check my bag later for you, dear.”

  Aunt Hazel nodded and turned to Mother. “Jeanie dear, it’s the girl’s birthday. Haven’t you kept her from us long enough? Can’t you just call Vanessa and have her send your things back?”

  Mother pointed a fork at Aunt Hazel. “Oh no. That woman would never admit to having my bracelet. I am going to have to catch her with it to get it back. Roger gave it to me. It’s just full of beautiful chocolate diamonds and I simply must have it back.”

  I didn’t argue. I was grateful for the breather. There was so much I needed to wrap my head around.

  Vanessa Stewart was cranky, whip thin, with platinum blond hair and a manicure like a cat. Honestly, I was certain she had stolen my tennis bracelet, too, when we lunched at her house last week. It wouldn’t be hard to help my mother get her bracelet back, and maybe see if mine was also lying around. It had been my favorite, a gift from Father for my fourteenth birthday. If I didn’t see it I was going to mention it to Leanne, their maid. She was pretty friendly. Maybe a little too friendly, if the rumors about her and George Stewart were true.

  “Hurry up,” Mother encouraged. “I’ve booked us manis and pedis for the afternoon, so we need to shakedown Vanessa soon. I need my phone for it. I do hate talking to the people doing my nails.”

  Auntie Joe’s eyes were wide. Aunt Sarah rolled her eyes and winked at me.

  “Well,” said Aunt Hazel, “we will go with you. No reason something two people can do wouldn’t be better served with a crowd of witches.”

  “Oh, I love it,” Father said with a laugh. “I think I will go to work before the fireworks start. Ladies, thank you very much for the breakfast. Will you be staying for dinner?”

  “No,” said Mother.

  “Yes,” said the Aunts.

  Father snorted, hugged me, and slipped a present into my pocket. “Happy Birthday, darling,” he said softly.

  He kissed Mother and gave her shoulder a gentle shake, “Be nice.” She melted a little, twinkling just for him.

  “See you all tonight, ladies. We’re having Italian, I hear. Arrivederci!”

  Mother had had enough of waiting. “Let’s go,” she said. “If you’re that hungry, we can get brunch when we’re done.”

  Trouble leapt up onto the table and started helping himself to the eggs. Livvie followed. Auntie Joe tried to shoo them, but they ignored her with a thick air of disdain. At least they weren’t talking.

  I let Mother drag me outside and the Aunts followed. Vanessa’s house was practically next door. She and Mother played cards almost every night.

  Our house was large with several bedrooms, a tennis court and swimming pool. In the back our gardens actually connected to the side of Vanessa’s property.

  But we weren’t going to the back now. With the Aunts here with us, Mother was concerned about appearances, of course. So we went the long way, down the block and to the front. The walk was a bit chilly in the morning air but we quickly arrived at Vanessa’s. The large oak door was open slightly. Mother knocked lightly before just barging right into the foyer.

  Leanne was cleaning the living room and looked up when we came in, startled. Mother pounced. “Where is Vanessa?”

  “She hasn’t come down yet this morning,” Leanne answered. She had a bucket in one hand and gestured upstairs with a yellow sponge. “One moment and I will see if she is awake.”

  “No, that is fine Leanne. I will go and wake her myself,” Mother said, and started up the large marble staircase.

  I shrugged, mouthed ‘sorry’ to Leanne, and followed.

  “Wait, you can’t just go upstairs!” Leanne dropped her bucket and followed us up the stairs.

  Mother increased her pace. I did too, and the Aunts stood in the foyer confused. Leanne grabbed at Mother’s arm. Mother shook her off.

  “Please! This is most unusual! I can get her. Please, this is crazy.”

  “Leanne, that woman has taken my last bracelet!” Mother got to the landing and confidently turned left. “Now, you know how she is with other people’s jewelry…”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Leanne said, averting her eyes.

  “She has Mother’s phone, too,” I added. “Probably a mistake…”

  “A black phone in a diamond-studded case? No, it’s not upstairs. I found it this morning at the card table. I put it in the foyer. Please! Will you stop? She’ll kill me for letting people just wander through her home.”

  “Please, Leanne,” Mother said, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

  She strode towards Vanessa’s bedroom. The door was open a tiny crack. “Put your dressing gown on, Vanessa! You’ve got company,” she called out as she flung the door open wide.

  I put a hand over my eyes. Mother could be so trying!

  Leanne screamed. I whipped my hand away in time to see my mother cover her mouth. She turned milk pale and crumpled against the doorjamb.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  A wave of cologne hit me in the face. There was another scent under it, something I had only smelled once before, when Father insisted on “showing me the ropes” around the butcher’s shop (I can only explain it as a moment of son-lust).

  I pushed past Mother and yelped. A body in a silk chamois dressing gown was sprawled across the floor. Her platinum hair blended in, almost vanishing into the plush white carpet. But her chest was shocking! A large knife with an emerald-studded pommel stuck awkwardly out of Vanessa. The scent of the cologne choked me. It was jasmine and lily and patchouli and blood.

  “Oh Vanessa!” Could she really be —

  “Is she dead?” Mother’s voice was weak.

  I raced to Vanessa’s side and touched her throat. The skin was cold. I pressed into it, leaving my fingers there for what felt like an eternity, but there was nothing, no reassuring blood pulsing through her veins. I looked at Mother and nodded.

  Her eyes widened. “Oh my,” she whispered.

  The Aunts piled into the hallway, Aunt Hazel at the front, eyes snapping. “What happened?”

  “Stay in the hall,” I commanded. “Vanessa’s dead.”

  Leanne let out another blood curdling scream.

  Aunt Hazel shook her. “Go call the police, stupid girl!”

  I looked around the room, anything to get my eyes off of the body. The bed was neat. Mother’s bracelet was sitting on the bureau. The window was open and the curtains were blowing inward. The rest of the room was neat and open. There was a jumble of diamond necklaces hanging out of an open drawer as if someone has been rummaging. A robbery? But no — why would the jewels still be here?

  Like it had magnetic pull, my eyes snapped back to Vanessa. She was in her night things. Her eyes were open and empty. She didn’t even have her slippers on. One of her hands had something white in it. A small piece of paper. I could just abou
t make it out as an IOU. The nightgown was soaked in cologne and the smell was turning my stomach.

  The aunts were staring around the room from the hall. They whispered fiercely to one another. Auntie Joe was holding onto Mother. Leanne didn’t come back but George did. He got to the doorframe and just stared, eyes wide. A hysterical laugh escaped him. He quickly covered his mouth and looked away.

  “Get away from the body, please,” a voice said with authority. I saw a small brunette with short hair dressed in a smart gray suit. “Officers, escort this woman away from my scene.” Two uniformed police officers entered the bedroom wearing booties on their feet and carrying evidence bags. “Miss-?” she asked.

  “Ella, Ella Sweeting.”

  “I’m Detective Rosa Garza. You want to tell me what you’re doing in the middle of my crime scene, touching the body and leaving your DNA all over the place?” Her brown eyes weren’t angry, just calculating.

  I stammered, “W-we came to get my mother’s phone and her bracelet. I just wanted to see if she was alive.”

  “These men are going to take you downstairs and get your statement. Did you contaminate anything other than the body?”

  “What?” I asked. This was all happening rather fast.

  “Did you touch anything in the room other than checking to see if the victim was still alive?”

  “Oh, no I didn’t. I just touched her throat to get a pulse,” I said as the officers took me by my elbows and led me out of the room. I got two steps before they lifted me up and removed my shoes. I looked back to see the bloody footprints behind me, and felt sick. “Oh,” I said again.

  We were all ushered downstairs and into the kitchen. I hugged my mother. I hugged myself. I slowly came to the realization that I was in shock. Vanessa was dead — no, Vanessa had been murdered. Someone I knew had been murdered.

  “This is bad,” Aunt Hazel whispered.

  “What’s worse than finding a body?” Aunt Sarah asked.

  “Did you notice what the murder weapon was,” Aunt Hazel asked.

  “No,” Aunt Sarah said. “Why should I? I was taken aback. I haven’t seen a murder victim in I don’t know ages. It’s not an everyday thing for me.”