Dying to Make a Fortune: The India Kirby Witch Mystery (Book 5)

by Sarah Kelly

  “When do you think you could have it all ready by?” India asked.

  Julian did not turn to face them. “You must understand, my dear, the difference between mere flower arrangers, and those chosen few who truly appreciate the magnificent art of floristry.” He suddenly struggled with his azure suede jacket, wrestling it off himself in frustration and tossing it over a stool. Then he let out a deep sigh of relief as he looked over the arrangement and slotted the white flower in place without a moment’s hesitation. “I cannot say return at 3pm and it will be prepared for you.”

  “We don’t need it for this afternoon,” Xavier said.

  “That is not the point, good man,” Julian stressed, clipping the ends of two flower stalks. “I am trying to emphasize the ephemeral nature of the muse. It has its own whims. A true artist is like a medium, not demanding the spirits of creativity come to bless him, but merely making his supplications to them and waiting with an open soul.”

  India smiled. The man certainly loved what he did. “We’re getting married on Christmas Eve. The white flower arrangements will all need to be delivered to the church, except for the bouquet and fascinators, which one of us will pick up on the 23rd. And the red arrangements will need to be delivered to Melville, or at least be ready for pick up on the 23rd, as well.”

  Julian cast his eyes over the cluttered counter and found an envelope and pen. He thrust it at India. “Do write that down, dear. Exactly what you want and when. It will be ready.”

  India did so. Julian began to hum as he worked, and India took the chance to whisper in Xavier’s ear, “Are you sure this is a good idea? He seems a bit unreliable.”

  Xavier grinned as he watched Julian agonize over where to put the next flower. “I think he might just surprise you.”

  India flashed him a smile back and began to write. “Okay. But if you’re wrong, you’re paying big time, Mr Bradford.”

  Xavier stuck out his tongue at her, then began to wander around, looking at the different plants. India took the envelope to Julian. To her surprise he actually looked at her for the first time, his dark eyes kind, and held the envelope to his chest. Up close, she noticed he probably had a degree of Asian heritage. “I will put the spirit of everlasting love in your arrangements,” he said sincerely. “They will be here.” He waved his hand over a large worktop. “Waiting to be picked up on the 23rd. And I will send Jan my delivery lady over to the church with your white arrangements in good time.” Then he kissed her on each cheek. “Arrivederci, mademoiselle. You shall be married with the most carefully woven bouquet.”

  ***

  “My dad’s coming to pick us up,” India said, feeling like a kid and almost wishing they’d hired a car, as she and Xavier stepped downstairs into the bakery the next morning.

  But Sarah smiled good naturedly. She had taken a seat on the chair behind the counter, a complete rarity, and sipped a coffee. Looking completely worn out, she pushed tendrils of sandy hair out of her eyes and then leant on her arm with a sleepy smile. A soft piano rendition of Christmas carols played in the background. “That’s good,” Sarah said. “Nice to see a close knit family. As for me, I’m just in here all day. It’s going to be one of those tough days. They come around every couple of weeks. Days where you just feel like you’re wading through treacle.” She gave a weak smile. “But I’ll survive. I always do.”

  India and Xavier had taken a donut each and sat at the stools by the counter. “Don’t you have anyone who can help you out on days like that?” India asked.

  “Ha,” Sarah said. “Yeah right. You’d think my own family would be supportive, but no. They’re all the way in California, but even if they lived right next door they wouldn’t offer to lift a finger. In fact, they’d laugh as they watch me work my fingers to the bone. If I failed, they’d disown me. And once the bakery was turning a good profit, they’d be bragging all over town about how they encouraged me to start it and would bug and bug me for money.”

  Xavier shook his head. “Wow. Sounds like you’re better off without them.”

  “Yeah,” she said forcefully, then leant the heel of her hand up against her face, squashing up her cheek. She seemed to deflate. “But that doesn’t stop me wishing things were different.” Her dark eyes flickered up at them. “Anyways, that’s enough about me. How’s your wedding planning going? Oh.” Her expression lost its openness again for a moment. “What are you going to do about your flowers?”

  “Julian Sawyer’s doing them for us,” India said.

  “Oh, yes, he’s excellent.” Sarah’s eyes widened, as if something horrific had dawned on her.

  India felt her heart skip. “What is it?”

  Sarah looked down into her coffee cup and shook her head. “Oh. I’m just so jumpy these days, it’s probably nothing. Just about everything I think of, I end up scaring myself. In every shadow, I see a killer… I was just thinking about the argument Julian and Mariette had a few months back.”

  Xavier’s donut was on the way to his mouth but he paused. “Artistic rivalry?”

  Sarah shook her head. “Goodness me, it turned nasty real quick. It was a contract for a funeral. An elderly man Mr Doyle, he’d passed away. A veteran, well loved, very much respected. Near on fifty grandchildren, you know, scattered around the state. Anyways, they were both vying for the contract, which really was huge. Mrs Doyle is a great fan of flowers. Julian was chosen by Mrs Doyle and Mariette was furious. She actually broke into his store in the night and set fire to a great deal of his flowers. Luckily a passerby spotted the fire pretty early. But by the time the fire truck got there most of his stock was ash. He couldn’t complete the contract, so she got it instead.”

  “That’s despicable!” said India. “Why didn’t he go to the sheriff?”

  “No evidence.” Sarah shook her head. “But everyone around here knows she did it. Julian just said something about the gods avenging him. He’s a little… eccentric.”

  “That must have been what he meant when he said poetic justice,” Xavier said.

  Sarah tapped on the side of her coffee cup, agitated. “Some believe she sent Horatio to do the burning, poor boy.”

  “I wonder how Horatio’s holding up,” Xavier said. “It must be terrible to lose your mother in such a way, even if she was dreadful.”

  Sarah shrugged. “The way I see it, he’s finally free. You know, I can’t help but overhear him and Yasmin when they’re in here. She’s got quite a loud voice, too. He wanted to go to college, to get a job, all sorts, but that… that woman Mariette always kept him under lock and key. People think he’s sullen and rude, but I think he’s shut down from the world. As a coping mechanism.” Her eyes shone with emotion. “What a terrible way to live. In a cage, he was. In her cage.”

  A honking horn outside made them all turn to look out the window.

  “Oh, it’s my dad!” India said, and both she and Xavier hurried to get up and put their coats and gloves on. Xavier had already finished his donut, and India took her last piece up in gloved hands. “See you later, Sarah,” she said, then popped the last piece of donut into her mouth.

  ***

  “Oh, India,” Eric said. He patted Rose gently on the back, and his kindly brown eyes welled up as he looked at her, then back at his daughter. “You... Wow. I can’t believe... Oh, sweetheart.”

  That was what he’d always called her as a little girl, and she hadn’t heard it so long. When she was young and innocent, she’d been so keen to tag along with him, whether they were traipsing through the fields at the back of their house in summer, keeping their eyes peeled for butterflies to tick off their list, or trying to alter the electrics in her doll so he could put a voice recorder inside and let the dolly learn to speak. But peer pressure had piled up on top of her at high school, and before long they’d grown apart. He had always popped his head around her bedroom door to ask if she fancied joining him under the hood of a broken down school bus, or at the computer trying to code a computer game, but she’d wav
ed him away. Pop music videos and fashion and not caring about anything had been in style, and none of Eric Kirby’s eclectic interests got the teenage girl’s stamp of approval.

  India regretted that now, as he called her sweetheart and gave her a big hug. It suddenly dawned on her that she was to become a married woman, which sounded far too grown up. She’d never again get the chance to trail around after her dad like his shadow, only just about able to keep up with his mind that flashed as bright and quick as lightning because he slowed down enough to explain.

  She found herself teary eyed as she pulled away. “Oh, I wanna move back here.”

  Eric nodded. “Xavier was saying you guys weren’t sure where you wanted to live. Maybe sometime you will buy a house up here.”

  “No, I mean here,” India said. “In this house. With you guys.” They were on the landing looking at her wedding outfit ensemble in the enormous mirror. She gestured toward her bedroom, which still had her single bed in it, but was totally impossible to navigate because of the book stacks. “Sleeping in that bedroom.” She’d never really had any sentiments like that before. If anything, she’d been so glad to break away and make a new life for herself in Florida. But in that moment it all seemed too much. Like she was moving too fast, even though it had been years since she’d moved out, and she’d been waiting for ever-cautious Xavier to get into gear and propose. She looked at herself in the mirror, but could not see her lovely outfit just then, only the worry on her face. “I am ready for this, aren’t I?” she said, more to herself than to them.

  “Of course you are,” Rose said quickly. “You’re a grown woman now, India. You’ll manage just fine.” She gave India a little tap on the arm. India would have preferred a big old bear hug, but she knew what her mom was like.

  “Xavier is a good man,” Eric said. “He’ll take care of you.”

  India puffed out a breath and looked at herself in the mirror. “Yes, he is. And he will. And I’ll take care of him, too.” She smiled, and let out a little shuddery laugh. She looked at her outfit properly, as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. She didn’t have an actual veil, and instead had opted for a gorgeous faux fur hat in ivory, which reminded her of something like a Russian princess. Her dress was the same delicate, soft white shade, and fell to the floor in reams and reams of gauze. The top of it was long sleeved, and overlaid with lace all the way down to her waist. And the thing that tied it all together, the cape, draped across her shoulders with a sweep of soft faux fur, which was ivory tipped with gentle gray, at her neck. The rest of it was an ivory woolen blend, ever so soft to the touch, and the hem rested at her thighs with another faux fur trimming. With her dark hair splayed over her shoulders in waves, and her eyes given a stunning cat-like outline in smudged kohl, it made for a truly dramatic look.

  “You look beautiful,” Rose said, and it was perhaps the first time she’d ever said that to India.

  “Thank you,” India breathed, turning this way and that. “To be truthful... I feel beautiful, too.” Despite her love for pretty sundresses, she was never one to fuss over her appearance all that much, and rarely bothered with more makeup than a slick of lipgloss and layer of mascara. But standing there in her snow princess ensemble, she felt gorgeous and was glad of it. It was a totally new feeling for her.

  After a couple more minutes of twirling and preening, India began to feel a little silly and vain. “I think I’ll take it off now,” she said with a final smile, not wanting to spoil the precious moment.

  “Yes,” Rose said, looking at her watch. “We said we’d pick up Amy in a half hour, anyways.”

  “Oh, you know her.” India giggled. “We’ll get there ten minutes late and she’ll still be dashing around looking for her phone and her purse.”

  Rose tutted as she went down the stairs. “That’s true enough.”

  India went into the bathroom to change back into her jeans and sweater, and hung her fairytale wedding clothes back on the padded hangers. As she pulled the protective plastic down around them she felt truly warm inside. She knew she was ready.

  When she got down to the kitchen, it smelled richly of spice and heavy seasoning. “Xavier’s teaching me how to cook Jamaican,” Eric said so proudly that India giggled. Both he and Xavier wore aprons and chopped colorful vegetables on boards as pans sizzled and threw condensation up over the windows.

  “I don’t know all that much,” Xavier warned. “Just granddad Cuthbert’s favorite meal that my grandma learned to please him. She’s from Mississippi, really, but I remember my granddad used to bring his Jamaican friends over and try to make them think a Jamaican cooked it. He found that like, absolutely hilarious, that he fooled old Sidney and Mr Brown into saying things like, ‘Mmm. A real Jamaican cooking dat. No one else cyan cook so.’ He would laugh so much.” Xavier paused with the knife poised on the vegetables for a moment, his eyes losing their brightness.

  “You miss him,” India said.

  He looked up at her. “Yes. I wish wish wish I’d taken you to meet him before he passed. I didn’t go and see him enough.”

  “New York’s a long way,” India tried to soothe him.

  But Xavier shook his head. “I should have made the effort.”

  “Ready to go, India?” Rose said, coming in from where she’d been reading in the living room.

  “Sure.” India swung her legs off the counter and headed over to where her coat was hung up.

  “Why don’t you take some dumplings along?” Eric said. “They should be cooled down enough now, shouldn’t they, Xavier?”

  “Oh yes.” Xavier hurried over to where large flat dumplings were draining on pieces of kitchen towel, all golden and hearty looking, then touched one with the back of his hand. “They’re fine.”

  “I could so use a dumpling right now,” India said. “What else are you making?” Jamaican was one of their top take out choices back in Florida.

  “Jerk beef and curried vegetables,” Xavier replied, wrapping up some dumplings in kitchen roll. “All ready for when you come back.”

  India grinned. “Xavier Bradford, you are the best man in the world.” Jerk had quickly become a firm favorite.

  Xavier threw his head back with a nonchalant expression on his face. “I know.”

  Rose had been putting her gloves on. “I’ll certainly have a dumpling, thanks Xavier. And we’ll take some up for Lillian and Denise. It’s anyone’s guess if Lillian will be able to keep them down, though. I can’t imagine how she’s holding up now, with her terrible illnesses and the murder of the only daughter she’s in touch with.” Rose shuddered. “It doesn’t even bear thinking about, does it?”

  CHAPTER 6

  “Oh, how lovely of you to come by,” a very slim lady said as she opened the door to the home. It was practically a mansion in a mock British Tudor style, with plenty of dark colored beams and a heavy front door with bolts and iron studs. “You must be the hundredth visitor we’ve had in the last couple of days, Rose.”

  “Denise,” Rose said with some sympathy. “It’s all just horrible, isn’t it?”

  Denise was gaunt and pale and didn’t smile. Her dyed blonde hair had huge chunks of her natural dark brown at the roots and her eyes were ringed with dark ellipses. “Yes,” she said simply. “Do come in.”

  “This is my daughter India,” Rose said as they went in, “and her friend Amy.”

  “Hi,” Amy said confidently. She was carrying an enormous box of goodies and after she staggered through the doorway had to set them down on the polished dark wooden floor. “We’ve brought you some things. Too heavy for me to carry far. Where do you want them?”

  India thought she’d balance Amy’s bluntness with some gentleness. She touched Denise’s arm gently and looked at her with a soft empathy. “I’m so sorry about what happened… and that we had to meet for the first time under these circumstances.”

  “I know,” Denise said, chewing her lip. “And what about you, though? Your mom told me you are to be married
Christmas Eve. Everyone knows Elise is in jail. Is that still going ahead?”

  India nodded. “Yes. We hope it’s not insensitive to Mariette’s family—”

  “Oh, not at all,” Denise rushed to reassure her. “It would be a good thing for Abingdon Fork, I think. It would get us back into the swing of life a bit faster. Because, as tragic as things like this are, life does not stop for us. The world does not stop turning.”

  “That is a brave attitude,” Rose said.

  They were all silent for a moment. Then Denise said, “Why don’t you come on into the kitchen with that load, Amy? Lillian’s in the drawing room, Rose. Oh, and of course, take off your coats and boots. Lillian prefers stocking feet in the house, if you don’t mind.”

  Everyone took off their scarves and gloves and coats and boots, then went their separate ways, Amy following after Denise, and India following after her mother down the polished wood hallway. She noticed dust and dirt gathering in the corners. Even so, the place had such an elegant feeling about it India could have believed she was in a hotel rather than a private home. This sense was only magnified when she spied little video cameras in the high corners of the hallway, above the wood paneling. “Why do they have cameras?” she whispered to her mother.

  “It’s just the two of them in this big old house. I expect it makes them feel safe. This place can be rather eerie at night, Denise tells me. They installed them about a couple weeks ago.”

  India shrugged. “If I lived here I’d get a big guard dog.”

  “Lillian’s allergic.” Rose came to a polished mahogany door and rested her hand on the golden handle. “I wonder how she is today, poor woman. Falling apart, I expect.” Then she pushed the door handle down and they entered the drawing room. It was rather lovely, India thought, exuding its eccentric sort of charm. The carpet was a thick royal blue affair that made India’s stocking feet sink into it, and there were blue drapes at every window that filtered the light and made the very air take on a blue cast. Furniture was crammed in, with Louis-style chairs and footstools and side tables and two chaise longues. White statuettes had lamp shades perched on top of their heads, and a glistening chandelier merged its goldish light with the blue, giving a soothing feel.