What were they thinking? Their faces were both plastered in that morning’s newspaper. Everyone in the haven read the Herald and had likely seen one, if not both, of their photos. Did they not think people might recognize them together and wonder what Evan Stimpton’s fiancé was doing with her tongue down his ex-partner’s throat less than seventy-two hours after his death?
If they did, they certainly didn’t care.
Charlene leaned in and whispered something to Russel. His smile faded and then he said something in reply. Their mood shifted.
I snatched my phone up again and dialed Patrick’s number, silently praying he was home. He picked up on the second ring. “Hey Ana! Harmony said you might call.”
“She did?”
“Texted a few minutes ago.”
“Listen, I have a favor to ask. It’s going to sound really weird, but I just need you to trust me, okay?”
“Uh, sure. What is it?”
“I need you to come down to the Magic Bean, order something, anything, and then sit directly behind a table and text me what the people are talking about. The man is wearing a dark suit and the woman is blonde, leggy, wearing a black dress. They look like they just got done seeing a show or having a fancy dinner.”
I paused. Hadn’t Clive said Charlene was out with Evan’s parents, making preparations for the funeral? I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d say if he could see her now, halfway in Russel’s lap. Or, did he know all about Charlene’s secret lover?
“Will you do it?” I asked Patrick.
“It’s, uh, pretty strange, but sure, I guess so. Be there in five.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, thanks. I’ll explain everything later—just hurry!”
Every minute passed like an hour as I tried not to stare at the door, waiting for Patrick to arrive. Finally—okay, four minutes later—he arrived. He wore a red hoodie, blue jeans, and sneakers. He glanced around and spotted the couple, but didn’t look at me as he went to the counter to place his order.
The cheery barista tried chatting with him, but he must have said something to shut her down because she raised her brows as she turned away and prepared his drink. He went to the table behind Russel and Charlene and sat down, stretching his legs out as he slouched in his chair. He was the epitome of cool and comfortable. He pulled his phone out and half a second later, mine chirped.
I flicked the volume off and opened his message.
* * *
Patrick: All right, I’m here, you wanna tell me what’s going on?
Me: You’re supposed to be listening. What are they saying?
Patrick: I am. Contrary to popular opinion, men can multi-task too.
* * *
I rolled my eyes. Fine.
* * *
Me: The blonde is Evan Stimpton’s fiancé and my former client. The man is his ex-business partner. Three days ago, she was in a white dress, ready to marry Evan. Now, he’s dead and she can’t keep her hands off this guy. Coincidence?
Patrick: You watch too many true crime shows.
Me: Patrick!
Patrick: Chill, I’m listening. They’re talking about a funeral. She asked if he’s going to show up. He said he has to, to keep up appearances. Now they’re joking about meeting in a coat closet for some … well, I’ll spare you the details.
* * *
Stars, did they not realize there was a complete stranger sitting right there?
* * *
Patrick: She’s complaining about someone named Clive. Says he’s being clingy and overprotective. The guy just asked if she wants him to … take care of it.
* * *
No … that didn’t sound ominous at all.
* * *
Me: What did she say?
* * *
When Patrick didn’t reply, I glanced up. They’d gone back to making out again. I sent Patrick the throw-up emoji. He chuckled.
The coffee shop door slammed shut with a gust of wind as a new couple stepped inside. The loud noise appeared to have startled Russel and Charlene from their canoodling, so while they looked the other way, I raised my phone and snapped a quick picture. They stood from the table, and Russel helped Charlene into her coat. Patrick slipped his phone into his pocket and sipped at his coffee. I must have missed the barista bringing it to his table.
Patrick waited until the couple left and then came over to join me at my table. He dropped the hood on his sweatshirt. “I gotta say, this night has turned out a lot more interesting than I’d imagined.”
I snorted. “What, you don’t play 007 with your other friends?”
He laughed and took a swig. “Lame, right?”
“Anything else I should know?”
“Nah. They were debating sharing a cab. Nothing interesting.”
I bobbed my head.
“You really think one or both of them bumped off the fiancé?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. Right now, the SPA is looking at the bartender, but I just don’t buy it. I mean, I never claim to be some kind of walking lie detector, but in my world, having a good sense of character is essential. I know people. And this bartender …” I trailed off, shaking my head slowly. “It doesn’t fit.”
“Hmm. Well, I hope you figure it out. Even more, I hope your boyfriend doesn’t get ticked off that you’re poking around in his case.”
I frowned. “Harmony told you?”
Patrick squinted. “No. But I’m sure he can’t be thrilled you’re running ops behind his back.”
My stomach churned. He was probably right, but what else was I supposed to do?
“Thanks for the help,” I said. I glanced at my coffee and bagel sandwich. Both cold. “Now, about that takeout dinner.”
Patrick laughed and pushed to his feet. “Come on. 007’s buying.”
I didn’t see Caleb until the following afternoon. He came over without calling first, a rarity for him, and when I let him into my condo, a flutter of nerves passed through me. Was he still angry about the night before? We hadn’t spoken, not even via text message, since the argument at Persimmon. Was he here to break things off? Had I crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed?
He came inside, arms laden with his gym duffel and another bag bearing the logo of the corner cafe. He looked freshly showered and when he joined me at the dining room table after depositing the takeout in the kitchen, I caught a strong whiff of the ocean-scented body wash he used.
Caleb paused in the dining room and considered the mess of papers, photos, and trinkets I had scattered across the table. “What’s all this?”
“This is all I have left. All I have to show for almost a decade of work. I sent a courier to pick up all the stuff from my office a couple of days ago.”
Caleb exhaled and looped an arm around my waist, then dropped his gym bag to the floor and gathered me into his arms. “I’m sorry, babe. I haven’t even been here for you while you’re dealing with all of this. And then, when we have seen each other, it’s been tense because of the case.” He paused, a pained look on his face. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. I haven’t exactly been at my peak, either.”
He kissed me slow, the tenderness of it washing away the tension and anxiety. I relaxed in his arms and dropped my head against his solid chest. I wanted to tell him about the conversation I’d captured the night before, but was hesitant to pop the peaceful bubble we’d wrapped around ourselves.
Caleb leaned over, taking me with him. “What’s this?” he asked, straightening. “You’re really going to do it?”
I pulled back. He held my business license application paperwork.
“Well, when Kait called to tell me to pick up my stuff, I kinda … um, well, I told her I was starting my own firm and then spouted off a bunch of pure nonsense about how I was going to—” I closed my eyes “—I believe crush them into pixie dust were my exact words.”
Caleb grinned. “Pixie dust?”
“Ugh. How humiliating. What was I thinking?”
&
nbsp; Caleb’s body shook as he tried to suppress his laughter.
“I’m sorry, is this funny to you?” I asked, peering up at him.
“Funny isn’t the right word, but I do find it a little amusing you’ve basically cornered yourself into doing what I thought you should do from the beginning.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Define beginning?”
“Since I realized how under-appreciated you were at the firm.” He spread one arm out, showcasing the collection of photos I’d spread across the table. “You’re amazing at this. If you put this talent to work for yourself, I know you’ll take off like a rocket. Aurelia knows it. Harmony knows it. You’re the one who needs to come around and see your own potential, babe.”
A little nip of guilt bit into me, recalling how I’d overreacted the night before at Persimmon. My cheeks warmed and I placed a hand on Caleb’s chest, drawing his attention away from the table. “You’re good at what you do, too. I’m sorry if I made you feel anything less than exceptional last night at the bar.”
Caleb’s eyes softened and he lifted my hand from his chest to press a kiss along my knuckles. “I appreciate that.”
“We’re good?” I asked.
He smiled. “Baby, we’re great.”
I lifted onto my toes and kissed him softly.
Chapter Fourteen
“All right, run it by me one more time. You think Russel Lauren and Charlene killed Evan?”
I cringed at the skeptical note in Caleb’s voice. It wasn’t the best timing considering we’d just made up over our spat, but I knew that if I went poking around deeper, it could very well break us apart. So, erring on the side of caution, I’d shown him the picture on my phone and let him read the texts from Patrick.
A deep line appeared along his brow.
“I know, I know, it sounds crazy,” I said, holding up my hands. “And, no, I don’t know how he could have pulled it off. But maybe he hired someone to put something in the drink?”
“There were seven groomsmen,” Caleb pointed out. “And the two fathers. Someone would have seen something.”
“Not if he hired one of Francois’s cater-waiters. They could have slipped it in on the way downstairs.”
“But how would they know which drink to lace?”
I frowned.
“Patrick might be right, Ana. You do watch too many true crime shows.”
I scowled at him.
“Listen,” Caleb sighed, “we still have Guy in custody. He looks good for it. He lawyered up, of course, but we pulled his transcripts from his academy. He was top of his class in potion work.”
I grimaced. “Naturally.”
“He had the skillset, the ingredients, and the opportunity,” Caleb continued. “Motive is a little shaky, but our prosecutor assures me he can build a case. The academy sent over other records and let’s just say the rivalry between Guy and Evan was well-known on campus. The two weren’t friends, and even as recently as a year ago, at a reunion, the two exchanged words and made a little bit of a scene.”
Crestfallen, I nodded and put my phone aside.
Caleb gestured at it. “This affair between Charlene and Russel is unseemly, I’ll grant you that, but it doesn’t make them killers.”
“I know that.”
Caleb ran his hand along my arm. “I’ll look into it, all right?”
“Okay,” I grumbled, tugging the sheets as I moved to the edge of the bed.
Caleb’s phone chirped and he cursed under his breath. “What now?”
I scurried to the closet and tugged on a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt. When I reappeared, Caleb was gone. I followed his voice out to the living room. He’d dressed and was slinging the gym bag over his shoulder as he spoke to whoever had called. “—be there in five minutes.”
He hung up and turned back to me.
“Duty calls?”
“Guy is insisting on taking truth serum,” Caleb said, clearly agitated. “His lawyer is advising against it, but he says he wants to prove he’s innocent.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
Truth serum could only be used in extreme cases, and even then, there was a mountain of red tape that had to be cut through in order to administer it. The Haven Council was reluctant to use any kind of mind magic, on supernaturals and humans alike.
“I don’t care if he wants to take the stuff. Hell, it makes my job a lot easier, but it means a long night doing paperwork and making sure I’ve crossed all my t’s and dotted the i’s just so.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. His jawline and neck were coated with stubble and I didn’t want to ask when he’d last gotten more than a few hours of sleep. High profile cases always meant all hands on deck, and the agency powers that be tended not to care about their agents’ basic needs.
“Wish I could help,” I said.
Caleb smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks. I’ll call when I get a chance. Who knows, by tomorrow night this could all be over and we could go on a regular date.”
“I’d like that.”
I crossed the living room and kissed him goodbye before ushering him out the door. When he was gone, I reset the security wards and wandered back to the kitchen. Peaches poked her head out of the bedroom and meowed, as if asking whether or not the coast was clear.
I rolled my eyes at her. “You know, I’m planning on keeping him around. How long is it going to take for you to get over this … well, whatever it is!”
She meowed.
“Helpful.” I cracked open a can of food and served it to her on her customary crystal plate. “Brat.”
It was half past four. There was still time left in the day to work on my business plan, maybe even make some phone calls before businesses started shutting down for the night. I hadn’t seen Harmony since the night before, but had smelled her perfume in the bathroom and knew she’d come home to shower and change—and hopefully sleep—at some point during the night. Was she at work now? I considered going to Luna for an early dinner. I hadn’t eaten lunch, and then had gotten distracted with Caleb. My stomach rumbled at the idea of digging into a plate of pasta.
I backtracked to the closet, changed into slacks, a polka-dotted shirt, and matching shoes. I stopped to clean up after her furry highness and then left the condo. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. I hopped on a Shimmer Bus and rode it to the stop nearest Luna. As I rounded the block, I realized I was only a few blocks away from the Lakewood Tower. Before I could fully form a plan in my head, my feet started in the opposite direction of the restaurant, and within a few minutes, I stood in front of the luxury high rise.
Too bad I didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing.
I shouldn’t get involved in this, I told myself in a harsh voice. What did I honestly think would happen? I’d go charging in and get Charlene to confess to the whole thing in a sobbing mess of words and apologies?
Yeah. Right.
Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I turned away and started back toward Luna.
Lasagna, Ana. Think lasagna.
“Anastasia? Is that you?”
Crap.
I turned in slow motion and found Charlene and Clive striding in my direction, her arm looped through his. “It is you,” Charlene said.
I was honestly surprised she remembered my name. Charlene was almost like an infant in that unless something—preferably shiny—was dangling right in front of her, she tended to forget it existed.
“Coming to drop off another card?” Clive asked, a severe arch to his brow.
“Uh, no. I was just walking through. I’m on my way to Luna for dinner. My sister is a hostess there.”
“Oh,” Charlene replied, her face pinched with pity.
I fought back the urge to roll my eyes.
“What about you two? Enjoying the sunshine?”
Clive lifted his chin. “As much as we can enjoy anything now that Evan is gone.”
What? Who did he think he was kidding with that act? T
wo days ago, he’d acted like Evan’s murder was a mere inconvenience.
Charlene glanced at him and mirrored his posture. “We’re doing our best,” she added. “We’ve been out making preparations for the funeral most of the day. Are you planning to attend?”
“I wasn’t invited.”
“Oh.” Charlene shrugged. “It’s probably just as well. It’s going to be a zoo. Evan’s parents have invited the whole haven, it seems.”
“Even Russel Lauren?”
Holy hex. Where had that come from?
Clive’s eyes darkened. “I can assure you he will not be there.”
“Oh?” I looked to Charlene. “It was my understanding you two are friends.”
Clive barked a cold laugh. “What a ridiculous idea.”
I waved my hand casually through the space between us. “I just thought I saw you two together, that’s all.”
If Charlene’s eyes could shoot fire, I’d be a pile of ash on the sidewalk.
“You were with Russel?” Clive said, his tone solid ice.
“It was in a trashy part of town. No one who’s anyone would have seen us,” Charlene whined.
Okay. Ouch.
“What were you doing with him?” Clive demanded.
Charlene looked at me, a fire still blazing in her eyes. “Nothing.”
She was daring me to contradict her.
“I really need to go,” I said, backing away a step. “I’m late for my reservation.”
Clive clamped onto Charlene’s arm and steered her into the building, and I hurried away, practically sprinting the rest of the way to Luna.
Harmony was at the host station when I stepped inside. She glanced up with a surprised smile. “What are you doing here, Stace?”
“Hoping for a big plate of lasagna,” I replied.
She laughed and glanced over her shoulder. “I think we can arrange that. Do you need a menu?”
I shook my head. I had the whole thing memorized.
Witchy Weddings: A Magic Witch Mystery Series: The complete Touch of Magic series Page 40
