“All right, so catch me up,” CeeCee said, raising her martini glass to her lips.
“There’s not much to catch up on since yesterday,” I told her. “I’m weighing my options. I have two months left on my lease, so I have a little bit of time to play with. Although, if I’m moving, I guess I’d need to give thirty days’ notice.” I bit into my lower lip.
Guy approached, an electric-green martini in each hand. “Ladies,” he said, placing the cocktails before Harmony and me. “I’m under strict orders not to refer to these as pity-tinis, but with that said, I am really sad to hear about your resignation, Ana.”
“Thanks, Guy.” I wrapped my fingers around the stem of my glass, avoiding his eyes. “Something will work out.”
“The whole thing is just crazy,” Guy continued. “And then for that leech, Russel Lauren to sit there and boo-hoo-hoo to the Herald, as if he actually gives a damn. Did you see that? He’s opening some charitable foundation in his so-called best friend’s honor. This thing has got juicy layer upon layer!”
I frowned and looked up at the excitable bartender. “Russel Lauren? Who’s that?”
“You didn’t see?” Guy shot a quick look around the bar and then took a seat at our table. He leaned in and dropped his voice. “Russel Lauren was—emphasis on the past tense—Evan’s business partner and friend.”
“What happened?”
“A few months ago, Russel pitched Evan on some big investment opportunity. He was throwing everything in on this deal. It turned south, their business went bankrupt, and they lost everything. Now, according to the grapevine, Evan’s parents bailed him out and gave him another infusion of cash from his trust, whereas Russel didn’t come from money and didn’t have anyone there to throw him a life raft. Well, anyone besides Evan. When Russel tried to get Evan to start a new venture together, Evan turned him down.”
CeeCee winced. “Ouch.”
“Russel wouldn’t let it go. They ended up in this huge fight, in public, and it was all over the tabloids for about a week. That’s why Russel wasn’t involved in the wedding.”
Satisfied by his torrid tale, Guy leaned back in his chair. “And now, Russel’s setting up this charitable organization in Evan’s name and pretending none of that ever happened.”
“I wonder why,” Harmony said.
“To wiggle his way back into the Stimpton’s good graces,” Guy explained matter-of-factly. “Russel is just trying to get back in the family’s good graces and blaze a new trail to the Stimpton fortune.”
“I read the obituary. I don’t remember seeing anything about this,” I said, shaking my head.
“It wasn’t in the obituary,” Guy explained. “They put it on the next page. A B story, if you will.”
I sipped my martini and considered Guy. “While we’re on the topic of gossip, is it true that you and Evan were classmates in your academy days?”
Guy’s jaw flexed. He maintained his smile, but there was an edge to it when he looked at me. “Yes. Though, I prefer to block all of that from my memory.”
“Then why did you agree to the bartending job? I told you it was Evan’s wedding.”
Guy considered the question, his eyes darkening. “It was a job. A well-paying one, at that. And sure, maybe there was a part of me that wanted to show up, handsome and suave, and show off my craft and send the message that I didn’t care about their scorn.”
CeeCee glanced at me, her eyes wide.
“Evan and his friends made my academy experience a nightmare,” Guy continued, his eyes staring at a point past CeeCee’s shoulder. “I knew Charlene and Errol, too. But they left me alone.”
“Errol, as in Clive Errol?” I asked.
Guy nodded. “They were best friends all through academy. Sometimes people spread rumors that there was more going on between them, but nothing ever came of it as far as I knew. Errol—Clive—is a ferret-shifter. Charlene wasn’t going to go for someone like that. She liked the bad boys. The alpha-holes.”
“Like Evan,” I added quietly.
“Bingo.” Guy shook his head.
Someone at the bar called for Guy and he got to his feet. He placed his palm on the table and flashed a smile. “You ladies let me know when you’re ready for round two.”
With that, he was gone, melting back into the hustle and bustle of tending a busy bar.
The three of us remained quiet for a beat longer, watching him work.
Harmony spoke first. “Stace, you don’t think Guy had anything to do with what happened to Evan, do you?”
“I don’t know,” I replied slowly.
CeeCee cleared her throat, drawing our attention away from the bar. “Enough of all that talk,” she said, lifting her glass. “I propose a toast. To you, Ana. To your future success and, perhaps more importantly, for finally telling Hyacinth she can shove it where the sun don’t shine!”
Harmony giggled and hurried to raise her own glass. “I’ll drink to that!”
A smile tugged at my lips and I joined the toast. “May it one day be a glorious memory and not at all panic-inducing.”
We all laughed, clinked glasses, and drank.
“What does Caleb think?” CeeCee asked. “Is he proud of you, too?”
“He thinks I should open my own wedding planning business.”
“You should!” CeeCee agreed.
“It sounds like a good idea, right up to the part where I have to move out of my condo, sleep on the Shimmer Bus, and shower at the gym.”
“Why not move into Caleb’s place?” CeeCee asked.
I choked on my martini and sputtered to clear my airway.
Harmony snickered into her own cocktail glass. “Guess that answers that question.”
CeeCee patted me on the back as I caught my breath. “Sorry,” she said, wincing. “Wasn’t trying to kill you, there.”
I took a drink of water and shook my head. “I’m fine. You just … surprised me.”
She frowned. “Is it really that crazy of an idea? Things are going well, he has a big apartment, a stable job. What’s the hang up?”
“Well, for starters, Peaches would probably shred his couches just to remind him she’s not granted her seal of approval,” Harmony pointed out, still grinning. “And secondly, Stace has trust issues.”
I scowled at my sister. “I do not!”
“Mhmm,” she hummed, sipping from a tiny pink straw.
Ignoring her, I looked at CeeCee. “I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen. Longer than that, if you count the years we lived with our mother. She wasn’t exactly the motherly type. As in, she’d go out one night with friends, meet some small-time musician, and end up chasing his tour bus all along the west coast for a week or two.”
The amusement faded from Harmony’s face. She idolized our mother, despite the gaping holes in her parenting skills—and arguably the place her common sense should reside. Anytime I pointed these things out, she took a defensive position.
“I’m just saying, I ended up doing the grocery shopping, cleaning, getting you to and from school,” I told her gently. The last thing I needed was drama with my sister, not on top of everything else. Shifting my attention back to CeeCee, I pivoted. “I like Caleb, a lot. But we’re not there yet. That’s all.”
A skeptical voice echoed in the back of my head, reminding me that I more than liked Caleb. I drowned it out with another long sip of my sour-apple cocktail.
Harmony perked, staring at the door. Expecting to see some devastatingly handsome wizard or shimmer, I turned on my stool, my heart jumping when instead, I found Caleb striding into the bar. He wore his SPA jacket and approached the bar with a surly expression that made it clear he wasn’t there for an old fashioned.
“Guy Hansen?”
Guy looked around, his eyes wide, then timidly raised one hand, fingers pointed. “That’s me.”
Caleb zeroed in on him like a shark and cut through the bar. He held out a paper to face Guy. “This is a warrant for your arrest.”
Chapter Twelve
“What?!” Guy boomed, his voice bouncing off the walls of the bar that had gone pin-drop silent.
Caleb gave a nod at the agent on his right, whom I recognized as Meryl Miller, a former SPA-warden turned agent. She rounded the bar and instructed Guy to put his hands behind his back.
“You’re being charged with the murder of Evan Stimpton,” Caleb said as Meryl spelled a pair of magical cuffs to Guy’s wrists.
“I had nothing to do with that!” Guy protested, looking around at the faces dotting the opposite side of the bar, most of whom were regular customers, based off my own visits there. None of them said anything as Meryl marched Guy around the bar and toward the doors. He continued to protest, but no one tried to intercept the agent.
“We have a warrant to search the premises,” Caleb announced to the crowd of stunned patrons. “If everyone can leave their drinks and file out nice and orderly, the SPA will pick up any open tabs.”
That won the favor of the crowd and everyone got to their feet, a few people even stopped to clap Caleb on the back and thanked him for the drinks as they filed out of the bar. Of course, most of them slammed back the free drinks in front of them before they did.
CeeCee looked at me, silently questioning if we were staying or going. I slid from my chair and caught Caleb’s eye as the last stragglers headed for the exit. He blinked, clearly surprised to see me standing there. “Ana?” he said, approaching the table. He gave a nod to CeeCee and Harmony. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Girl’s night out!” Harmony said, waving her martini glass at him.
CeeCee plucked it out of her hand.
“What happened?” I asked, my gaze following the path Meryl and Guy had cut moments before.
“Potions have signatures, embedded in the very spells that create them. Signatures help connect potions to the potion master who made them. We found traces of the potion used to kill Evan in the glassware retrieved from the basement where he was drinking prior to the ceremony. The signature led us to an apothecary, and we showed the owner a series of photos. Out of all the bartenders at the event, he identified Guy as a regular customer.”
My eyes went wide.
“It’s enough to arrest him, Ana.”
Caleb paused long enough to direct his agents, sending two to search the bar and one to the employee-only area behind it.
“Why would a potion master attach his signature to a potion meant to kill someone?” Harmony asked.
I started, not realizing she’d moved so close to me.
“Any potion master worth their cauldron knows the spells that can kill and would never brew them in the first place, let alone be dumb enough to bottle them up and sell them right over the counter like that!” Harmony pointed out, her words spilling out in rapid fire. “Did this potion master say Guy actually bought the potion used to kill this guy?”
Caleb’s eyes went steely blue. “Would you two like to take over the investigation?”
Harmony shrank back under his fierce glare.
I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Caleb, we’re just trying to help. Guy is Harmony’s friend, just like Francois is mine. It’s only natural for us to be protective, just like you said in your office earlier today.”
“And I’ll say again, I’m following the investigation. And right now, with Mr. Hansen’s history with the victim combined with his purchases at the apothecary, I have enough to arrest him.” Caleb glanced at his agents, his eyes circling the bar before returning to us. “The potion used to kill Evan was a blend of other potions, all put together with some kind of spell. Mr. Hansen is a mixologist. It’s not far-fetched to believe him capable of putting together a deadly concoction.”
Harmony started to argue, but one look from Caleb shut her up. She tore from my grip and stalked out of the bar, muttering under her breath. CeeCee shot me a nervous glance and slithered past Caleb to follow after her.
Caleb grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been a long day.”
“Well, taking it out on Harmony isn’t going to do anything but create more problems,” I told him, unable to restrain the bite in my voice.
“I’m sorry, Ana.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to, Caleb.”
Leaving him no room for a reply, I swerved past him and left the bar. CeeCee and Harmony were on the sidewalk outside. Harmony had her arms wrapped around herself, fighting a losing battle against the chill in the night air.
“Listen, I should get going,” CeeCee said apologetically. “I have to get up early for a staff meeting tomorrow. Maybe we can schedule a do-over next week?”
I nodded. “For sure. Thanks for the drinks, CeeCee. I’ll call you later.”
She gave me a brief hug and then walked toward the nearby bus stop.
“I’ve known Guy for a while now. He’s not a killer, Stace,” Harmony said, her eyes distant. “Something’s not right here.”
“Tell me about it.”
She tossed her head and sniffed. “It’s too neat, too clean.”
“You think it’s a frame job?” I asked.
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But why would someone set up Guy? I mean, they’d have to know a lot about him, like his beef with Evan, where he shopped for potion ingredients, the fact that he was even going to be at the wedding, let alone bartending it. I mean, who could have that much info on him?”
I shook my head, coming up empty. “I don’t know and right now, I’m getting the feeling the SPA isn’t going to dig too hard. They want this case closed, like yesterday. Caleb told me there’s a lot of pressure on them to give Evan’s parents and the public a name and move on.”
“Wouldn’t they rather have the right guy, not just the convenient guy?”
“You would think,” I scoffed, though I felt a little guilty throwing Caleb in with the rest of the dirty water. “Come on. Let’s go home. We can grab dinner on the way.”
Harmony hesitated. “Actually, I can’t.”
“What? Why not?”
She glanced down the street. A Shimmer Bus was rounding the corner. “I have a class at eight. I signed up for it before we scheduled the thing with CeeCee. I was going to duck out early, but now …” she trailed off as the Shimmer Bus glided to a stop with a slight whoosh sound. “Are you gonna be okay?”
Disappointment twisted in my stomach but I smiled. “Yeah, of course. Maybe I’ll bug Patrick and see if he wants to order in.”
Harmony smiled, kissed me on the cheek, and then tore off for the bus before it could pull away. “See you tomorrow, Stace!”
I waved and watched her go, hating myself for wondering whether or not she’d just lied to me.
I hadn’t finished my martini but going to a bar alone held no appeal. Instead, I headed home but got off the Shimmer Bus a stop early and walked to Magic Beans, the neighborhood coffee shop. They were open late and had a cozy atmosphere. I ordered a decaf latte and a bagel sandwich at the counter and then staked out a table in the corner. The patron before me had left a copy of the Haven Herald behind. I’d already glanced through the day’s issue, but tugged it toward me, content to peruse it as I waited for my order to be called.
A few minutes later, the barista who’d taken my order came over and handed me a full mug with a generous amount of foam and then placed my sandwich in front of me. “Anything else?” she asked with a smile.
I shook my head. “No, thanks. I’m all set.”
She went back to the counter and I took a sip. The latte was extra hot and I recoiled, my lip stinging. I searched for a napkin to wipe away the hot liquid but came up empty. I wiped my mouth with my fingers and then hurried to the bar and grabbed a handful of napkins and poured a glass of ice water from the decanter. On my way back to my table, a familiar giggle caught my ear. I turned and then nearly dropped the glass of water.
There, occupying the corner booth, was Charlene Fitzpatrick, and she was making out with a man in a dark suit.
>
When they came up for air, my breath hitched. I ducked my chin and scurried back to my table, then pushed the sandwich out of the way and flipped the abandoned copy of the Herald open.
My eyes went wide.
The man from the corner booth was staring up at me in black and white, right in the middle of page three.
Russel Lauren.
Chapter Thirteen
Phone in hand, I debated calling Caleb. I hesitated, mostly because I had no idea what to say. After all, it wasn’t criminal for Charlene and Russel to be together—a little distasteful, considering the amount of spit they were swapping in public and the fact that her fiancé wasn’t even cold yet, but nevertheless, legal. Questions blared through my mind. How long had they been together? Was this a long-standing affair, or were they simply drawn together in the aftermath of Evan’s death? Russel’s falling out with Evan had been humiliating and left him broke and lacking the rich ally he was used to having at his side. They’d fought in public, but was that the end of it? Or, was it possible Russel had wanted to take revenge in another way? Or, maybe Charlene had put him up to it so they could be together.
The big problem was that Russel hadn’t been a member of the wedding party. He wasn’t one of Evan’s groomsmen or ushers. He wouldn’t have had access to Evan or any of his food or drinks the morning of his death.
I shook my head, snapping myself out of the tornado of scenarios.
“You’re losing it,” I muttered to myself, setting my phone back on the table with a decisive click. “What did Caleb just say?”
He was agitated enough without me provoking him further. I had to back off and let him do his job. I wasn’t a detective or a specially trained SPA asset. I was a wedding planner. Period. End of story.
Still …
I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder at the pair. Russel and Charlene had stopped kissing, though they still looked mere seconds from tearing off one another’s clothing. Stars, get a room, already.
Witchy Weddings: A Magic Witch Mystery Series: The complete Touch of Magic series Page 39
