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

by Sarah Kelly

  “Oh,” India groaned, opening her eyes. “I feel awful.” She felt like she hadn’t slept at all and her limbs were heavy as lead.

  Rose stood back, surveying her and frowning. “You do look pale. And you have huge rings under your eyes. I’m hoping you’re not coming down with something. I have worried about that, you coming back to such a different climate. We should dose you up.”

  “All right,” India said. Usually she was the kind of person to ride illnesses out without rushing to the medicine cabinet, but she really felt awful, and she was to be married in just a few hours.

  “Elise is already downstairs having some coffee,” Rose said. “You should really pick up here while I go down and make your breakfast. There’s barely enough space for the makeup and hair lady to squeeze in.”

  India managed to laugh, though her chest still felt heavy. “I have like two items of clothing on the floor.” When she’d come back from the bakery she’d been too tired and preoccupied to start laundry. She’d just tossed her worn clothes on the floor, telling herself she’d do them the next day. “It’s the books taking up all the space.”

  Rose bit her lip. “I know that. But there were carefully arranged passageways through them. Your clothes are blocking them.”

  India rolled up to sitting with a sigh. “All right.”

  “Good, good. There’s so much to do.” Rose left and closed the door behind her.

  India’s head ached and she rubbed her forehead as she got up. Stooping down to pick up her jeans, she winced as her head pounded all the more. “Eek,” she said to herself. “Definitely need an aspirin.” She tossed the jeans on the bed, about to turn to go get one from the bathroom, when a white flutter caught her eye. “Oh,” she said aloud, going over to the tiny scrap of paper that had fallen out. She picked it up, realizing it was the reference number from the toxicology report she’d found at Lillian’s. Clutching it in her fingers, she flopped back down on the bed, her brain whirring and making her head hurt all the more.

  How does this fit in? she thought to herself. But nothing came. It would make sense it was the victim who would have had the report. But if Mariette was trying to poison Sarah, that didn’t make sense, because Sarah would never have been at Lillian’s house. They were estranged. And Sarah wouldn’t have had the opportunity to poison Mariette. She’d said herself the cakes were ghastly, so there wasn’t any way Sarah could get the poison into the food. It just didn’t fit. India had the distinct sense there was something else in the equation she’d missed. Something she still had to find out.

  And then the idea struck her.

  Within moments she was out of her pajamas and into the first outfit she could find. Soon she was hopping along the upstairs landing, pulling wooly socks on and trying to remember where she’d put her purse. “Mom, I need to borrow the car!”

  “What?” Rose shouted up from downstairs.

  “I can’t explain,” India said, hurrying down the stairs. “I just need to go.” She came into the kitchen, breathing heavily. “Right now.”

  Elise was at the kitchen table but ran over and grabbed India’s shoulders. Her eyes were urgent. “Look, I know you’ve got the jitters, but leaving Xavier at the altar isn’t—”

  “It’s not that, honestly,” India said. “I’m coming back real quick. I just have to do something.”

  “India,” Rose began in a warning tone. “I don’t think—”

  “Mom, please.” India opened the drawer where the car keys were normally kept and grabbed them. “I swear I’ll be back.”

  ***

  Swinging the car into the parking lot of Alpha Laboratories, Fond du Lac, India took a deep breath. She didn’t know if the magic would work, and was almost afraid to try it. It sure was a lot more drastic than any spells or conjuring she’d ever attempted before. Her whole body buzzed with anxiety. But she didn’t see she had any choice. And yet she still kept putting it off. She muttered half the spell as she sat in the car, trying to muster up the courage to go inside, but couldn’t finish it. Then she got up and walked over to the humble entrance. It was quite an old fashioned place, and she had been scared they wouldn’t be open on Christmas Eve, but an OPEN sign flashed in the window next to a garish tinsel-formed holiday wreath. It was only at the very last minute that she managed to fight through her fears. She leant against the brick wall, just out of sight of the glass window of the laboratory, feeling her breath shudder through her.

  “Make me who I need to be,” she whispered, just as Luis had taught her. “For the glory of the Energy. Transform me until I say, to keep injustices at bay.”

  Nothing happened for a moment, and India began to panic, thinking she’d remembered the wording wrong. But then a tingling, warm feeling spread throughout her, and she felt strangely calmed and at peace. She knew she was doing the right thing. In the right place, at the right time. A smile spreading across her face, she pushed the wooden door of the laboratory open and strode right up to the receptionist, who was placing snowflake transfers on her blue nails. She smiled up at India. “Hello, ma’am. How can I help you?”

  India already had the tiny slip of paper in her hand. “Hi. I’d like a copy of this report, please. It got damaged. I spilled coffee all over it!” Her voice sounded so different as she spoke out, but she couldn’t place it. Definitely a woman’s voice, but whose?

  “Sure,” the receptionist said, tapping on the computer. “Easy as 1-2-3. Oops, I shouldn’t have said that. I just typed 1, 2, 3 into the computer! Let me just put in your reference number here. Sure, it’s right there. Great. And print!” She clicked with her mouse and soon a printer behind her began to make up noise. It was a laser printer, and the paper came shooting out in a second. “Here you are,” the receptionist said. “Happy holidays.”

  “Thank you,” India said. “And to you, too.”

  Then she hurried out, feeling her heart pounding. A light snow had fallen and dusted the car window since she’d been inside. She pushed it aside to see her reflection. She was Denise.

  India jumped in the car, barely able to catch her breath. An entirely new theory was forming in her head, but she needed to talk to Xavier. She glanced at the clock. 9am. They were to be married at midday. Still just about enough time, though it would be a stretch. Though she knew the bride and groom weren’t supposed to see each other, she didn’t care. There was no way she could go through her ceremony, knowing – if her theory was right – that Sarah was innocent, locked up in the Sheriff’s cells because of them.

  A little while later she screeched into Amy’s parents’ salted driveway. She slammed the car door and ran up to the entrance, knocking on the door over and over, frantic.

  Amy’s father opened the door, worry all over his face. “India, are you okay?”

  “I need to speak to Xavier,” she said, panting. “Where is he?” She felt so urgent that she ducked under his arm to get inside. “Xavier? Xavier?”

  “Xavier!” Amy’s dad shouted through the large house. He was instantly on side, and India appreciated that. “India’s here. It’s urgent.”

  Xavier came running down the stairs, a bowtie hanging untied around his neck, his eyes wide with confusion. “India, what’s going on? What are you doing here?”

  “Come outside,” she said. “I need to talk to you about the murder.”

  Instantly Amy’s dad dashed into the closet and came out with a thick coat and boots. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you,” Xavier said, hurrying to put them on. He still wasn’t quick enough for India, who bounced on her toes with impatience.

  As soon as they were out in the cold air she blurted out, “Sarah didn’t do it!”

  “I knew something wasn’t right last night,” Xavier said. “I couldn’t sleep thinking about it.”

  “Same!” India said. “I think it was Denise or Lillian.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s go,” India said. “I’ll explain in the car on the way over.”

  “G
o where? To the Sheriff?”

  India shook her head. “I want to confront them face to face.”

  It wasn’t long before they pulled up outside the Thomas mansion, and found Sheriff Rhodes’ car was already parked out front.

  Xavier and India exchanged glances.

  “Maybe he’s already worked it out?” Xavier said.

  India was already getting out the car. “Let’s go find out.”

  It was the Sheriff who opened the front door when they knocked, and he looked rather startled to see them. “India? Xavier?”

  “Sheriff, did you realize it wasn’t Sarah?” Xavier asked.

  Sheriff Rhodes’ brow creased. “No, I was here to take evidence about Sarah’s character from her mother. She seemed quite a devious character, with a double nature. Or Sarah put on a good show for the town, let’s put it that way.”

  “No,” India said quickly. “It’s not her. It was Lillian. Or Denise. Perhaps both of them together.”

  “What?” The Sheriff shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Who’s that?” Denise said, coming into the hallway, followed by Lillian.

  “Oh, hello, dears!” Lillian exclaimed. “Aren’t you meant to be getting married today?”

  The Sheriff looked India and Xavier up and down. “I think you’d better come in and talk. If you’re sure.”

  Xavier nodded. “We are.”

  “Come into the drawing room,” Lillian said, a shadow crossing her face while her voice remained sweet. “The tea is still warm enough, just about.”

  India and Xavier followed the Sheriff. India reached out to squeeze Xavier’s hand to gain some strength. “We can do this,” she whispered to him.

  “Sure we can,” he whispered back.

  Soon they were all sitting, except for the Sheriff, who stood, his feet planted firm on the ground. Denise nibbled at her nails nervously, avoiding all eye contact. Lillian was gregarious and friendly as ever, but there was a hard defensive wall behind all that charm that India could clearly see.

  “So what is it you’d like to speak about, dears?” Lillian said, glancing up from the teacup she held. “My health is taking a turn for the worse again, I’m afraid, so you’ll have to be quick.”

  “No, it isn’t,” India said.

  Denise’s gaze snapped up at her.

  “How can you tell me I’m not unwell?” Lillian said, sounding outraged. “Are you a medical doctor?”

  “No,” India said. “But I don’t need to be. You never really had a condition, though you believed you did. You were being poisoned, very slowly.”

  Denise looked to Lillian, her eyes wide with panic.

  But Lillian stayed cool, even laughing a little. “My dear, whoever would want to poison me?”

  “Mariette,” Xavier said. “Your favorite daughter, Shirley.”

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Lillian scoffed, then turned to the Sheriff. “Sheriff, these people are upsetting—”

  “I have the toxicology report you sent Denise to get,” India said, pulling it out of her coat pocket, “right here. You got a suspicion something wasn’t right with your illness, I’m not sure how. But you installed the cameras a couple weeks ago, my mom told me. You must have seen Mariette giving you poison every week when she came over. You were being slowly poisoned with arsenic, giving you all those mystery symptoms.”

  Lillian sipped her cup of tea, nonchalant. “You have the wildest imagination, dear.”

  “Then one of you killed her,” Xavier said, “though we don’t know who. Sarah said she was there, and then heard someone else coming so she ran through the back.” This was the part of the case they knew the least, but he pressed on bravely. “One of you came in the front, killed Mariette, then left through the front, too.”

  “Oh dear,” Lillian said. “Children, you’ve been reading far too many Miss Marple’s for your own good.”

  But Denise burst out crying. “Lillian, we should just—”

  “Leave!” Lillian said, getting to her feet, strong as anything, and pointing to the door. “Just leave right now! Can’t you see how much you’re upsetting Denise?”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” India said, placing her arms on the armrests of the wingback chair. “Just give it up.”

  Lillian sank back onto her seat, her eyes dark with hatred. “It was Sarah that did it. Not us.”

  Denise was still crying into her lap.

  Xavier tapped her gently on the back and spoke softly. “There’s something you want to say.”

  Denise sat up, wiping her eyes. She looked pale and her eyes were already bright red with crying. “Yes.”

  “Denise—” Lillian began.

  “I can’t pretend any longer,” Denise said to her hysterically. “And what if it gets out? Then everyone will think it was a cold hearted murder! I have to tell. I have to.”

  “Go on,” India said quickly, before Lillian could butt in.

  “We actually watched a Miss Marple about a month ago,” Denise said, “right here in this room.” She pointed to an elegant television cabinet. “And someone was suffering from the effects of long term poisoning.”

  “Stop, please, Denise,” Lillian said. “For your own sake.”

  “Many of the symptoms matched Lillian’s,” Denise continued, averting her eyes from her employer. “And we got to wondering if something maybe was going on. We talked ourselves out of it at first, saying it was a ridiculous idea, but then Lillian took a turn for the worse and we decided to install cameras, just in case. Perhaps she even suspected me.”

  “Not for a moment,” Lillian said instantly, but India could tell she was lying.

  “So we find Mariette slipping something in a drink she brought for her mother, between the kitchen where I had prepared it and here. The monitor is in the kitchen and I watched it all, then hurried in to stop Lillian drinking it. I said I had put salt instead of sugar in it.”

  “Then you took it to the lab,” India said.

  Denise nodded. “And it came back positive for arsenic. So…” Her eyes filled with tears. “Lillian told me not to, but I went down to see Mariette to confront her about it. She was looking at these last notice letters when I got there, and she tried to stuff them away out of sight but she was so incensed about Sarah her coordination was all skewiff.”

  “She said Sarah had been there?” Xavier asked. “That’s your other daughter, isn’t it?” he asked Lillian.

  Lillian’s eyes had taken on a faraway look. She didn’t make a reply.

  “It is,” Denise said. “And she was furious about it. She had confronted her about Horatio, because Mariette wouldn’t give Horatio money to go to college. I asked her straight out if she was facing money problems and that’s why she was poisoning her mother, to inherit and start her new fashion business, and she flew at me, scratching and cursing.”

  “Show us the scratches,” India said immediately.

  Denise unzipped the top of her turtleneck and showed the area just below her collarbone. It was covered in angry red marks. “So I pushed her away,” she said, her eyes clouding over. “And she fell onto the shelving. It clattered down on top of her, and I ran, glad to get away. I thought she was going to kill me. I had no idea she’d die. I thought she’d just push it off her and run after me, but at least I’d have a head start.”

  The room swelled with silence after that.

  Sheriff Rhodes was the first person to speak. “The post mortem will show if there was any of your DNA under Mariette’s fingernails. That will help your case. You’ll have to fight it through the courts, self defense.”

  “And I’ll stand by her all the way,” Lillian said, snapping awake. “She has been nothing but good to me, always standing by me. I told her not to ring you when Mariette was found to have… passed, because she doesn’t deserve jail. Absolutely not.”

  “I think you have a strong case,” Sheriff Rhodes said. “But the judge and jury will have to decide the rest.” He
looked at India and Xavier, who were exhausted, slumped back in their chairs like they’d just run a race. “You two… well done. We don’t get such cases like this in Abingdon Fork. I’m not too proud to say I wouldn’t have come to this conclusion. At least not quickly.”

  “Oh,” India said modestly. “It was just luck.”

  Xavier shrugged. “And maybe a bit of magic.”

  ***

  “It’s twenty five past!” Xavier’s father Mark hissed at Xavier by the altar of St Andrew’s. “You don’t think she…”

  Xavier grinned. “Oh, no. She’s not leaving me at the altar.”

  Mark smiled back, looking unconvinced.

  India saw them as the doors opened, revealing a church bedecked with white flowers and glowing golden candles. She felt like a princess in her gown and hat and faux fur-lined cape. Her dark hair fell down in perfect waves over her shoulders, and she looked around at all the people of Abingdon Fork. Horatio and Yasmin caught her eye in their black clothes, clasping their hands and looking very much in love, which made her smile. Her mother was up front, beaming with pride. Xavier’s family, who had arrived the night before and stayed in a hotel in Fond du Lac, were just behind him. Amy was up front next to Rose, looking excited enough to burst. Her father was by India’s side, their arms linked.

  “Ready, sweetheart?” he whispered.

  “You bet.”

  They made their way up the aisle, and then she let her eyes rest on Xavier, the love of her life. He was looking back at her with adoring eyes, and when she reached him, silent tears began to fall down his face. She reached up and wiped them away, her heart full, then turned to the priest. All through his introduction, she felt her heart beat so fast. She could barely believe the day was finally here. In moments she would be Mrs India Bradford. In moments she would be somebody’s wife. The feeling was exhilarating.

  “Now it is time to exchange the rings,” the priest said. “India, do you take Xavier for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”