The Witching Hour

by Anina Collins

  That sounded great, except maybe the card referred to how Alex valued working with me instead of having a life with me. Maybe it wasn’t as positive as I’d hoped.

  Tapping her finger on the center card, she smiled at me. “This is the final card, the one that tells us what the conflict is and what the resolution is to that conflict. Let’s see what the tarot has to say.”

  She flipped the card over and there was a picture of a man suspended by his foot from a single branch of a tree. Nothing about that looked good.

  “Oooh, this is interesting. The Hanged Man is all about waiting and figuring out why you feel stuck in whatever position you’ve found yourself. Is it something from the past that’s fixing you in that position?”

  I had no idea what the answer was, but seeing that man hanging upside down disappointed me. I’d hoped to see something more positive as the answer to our issues. Unfortunately, all I saw was what I felt about our situation.

  Reaching into my purse, I checked my wallet and found forty dollars. I handed it to Madame Cassandra and stood to leave. “Thank you for the reading.”

  I turned to leave, but she caught my arm by my wrist and stopped me. I looked down at her and saw she had more to say.

  “Whatever is troubling you, try looking at the problem from a completely different perspective. You may find the answer staring you right in the face. Good luck, dear, and never let that passionate Queen of Cups in you dim. It’s one of the things that makes you so wonderful.”

  “Thank you, Madame Cassandra. I’ll try to do that. Thank you!”

  I stepped out from behind her table and saw Alex speaking to a woman on the opposite side of the room wearing a red bandana on her head, a long, flowered peasant skirt, and a blue blouse. As I approached them, I saw large gold hoop earrings dangling from her ears too. She really had the whole gypsy thing going on.

  I stopped next to him, and he gave me a brief smile before returning to his questions for her. “Now Miss Fox, when you say Miss Perkins and Miss Ridgeway nearly got into a fight, do you mean an actual physical fight with fists?”

  The tarot card reader tucked a stray curl of blond hair under her bandana and shook her head, making her enormous earrings tug on her earlobes so they stretched out in what looked to be a very uncomfortable way. “Oh, I don’t know about that, but I can tell you, they were both very angry with one another. Witches can be very passionate people, Officer Montero. Paganism is all about being in touch with ourselves, our feelings, and the world around us. Did you know that?”

  Alex didn’t respond but continued to write notes on her answer. He looked up to see her staring at him, waiting for him to say something to what she’d said to him. Clearly, he hadn’t heard her and he looked confused for a moment, so I stepped in to save him.

  “Hi, Miss Fox. I’m Alex’s partner, Poppy. It’s nice to meet you. We are learning a lot about pagans on this case.”

  She took my offer of a handshake and immediately turned my palm over so she could inspect it. Running her fingertip over the lines, she smiled and then looked up at me. “You have a wonderfully strong heart line, Poppy. So much love in your life. You’re a lucky woman.”

  I stared down at the line at the top of my palm that ran parallel to my four fingers as she talked about how it had one tiny break but was solid otherwise and how fortunate that made me.

  Lifting her head, she gave me a broad smile. “I foresee a life full of love for you. So lucky.”

  Alex ignored everything she said and asked, “What were Tamara and Amy fighting about? Do you know?”

  She shook her head again and made the earrings swing wildly next to her head. “No. I just heard them and knew they were fighting. I assumed it was because of Amy refusing to say she was a witch.”

  “Okay. One more thing, Miss Fox. When was the last time you saw Amy Perkins?”

  She thought about the question for a moment as she let go of my hand and answered, “I think the last time Amy came to one of the Tuesday meetings at the center was the eighteenth. I didn’t really know her outside of those, so that would have been the last time.”

  He jotted July 18 down in his notes next to her name and the words LAST TIME SHE SAW AMY before closing the notepad and looking up to smile at her. “Thank you for all your help, Miss Fox. If I have any other questions, I have your number to contact you.”

  “I hope you find out who did this to Amy. She was a wonderful person, even if she didn’t call herself a witch.”

  “Good day.”

  I waved goodbye to her and thanked her for the impromptu palm reading. “Here’s to hoping you’re right,” I said as I turned to follow him.

  “Oh, I am. Don’t worry,” she yelled after me.

  When I caught up to Alex, he was already near the door. I grabbed his shirt near his elbow to stop him and said, “Hey, did you get to talk to anyone else?”

  He looked back at me but didn’t stop walking toward the exit. “I spoke to two people on Tamara Ridgeway’s list, including Miss Fox there. A third, Melody Chamberlain, was busy reading cards for someone, so I thought I’d step outside and get some fresh air while I wait.”

  His answer sounded workmanlike, almost emotionless without any of the usual kindness I was so used to hearing when he spoke to me. I had a sense he was angry with me for storming away before. I didn’t know how I felt about that, though. He had been quite closed-minded about this whole event, and it had bothered me.

  I followed him outside to the car where he stopped and leaned against the hood. Folding his arms across his chest, he asked, “So did you hear what you wanted to in there?”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, instantly feeling defensive about his question about my reading.

  “Poppy, they read body language and tell people what they want to hear. There’s nothing supernatural about tarot card reading or palm reading or any of it. They sense you want to know about something and tell you about it so you’ll feel good.”

  I took a step back away from him and leveled my gaze on his face. “And there’s something wrong with me feeling good about myself or an issue that’s on my mind?”

  His expression showed he understood he’d gone to the wrong place with this discussion already, and he shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. You know that. I don’t begrudge you feeling good about anything. I just don’t see why you would need one of them to feel that way.”

  “Maybe I needed some clarity. Some people find that with readings. What do you care anyway? It wasn’t like you couldn’t continue the investigation without me. You didn’t need me there to ask questions.”

  “That may be true, but I like having you around when I’m asking potential suspects questions. You get a sense from people that I may not. It’s why we work so well together.”

  I thought about the Three of Pentacles in my triangle of cards and the Two of Cups in Alex’s and how we really did work well together. And not only investigating crimes. I never doubted that he valued me personally and professionally, but to hear him say he did without any prompting made me happy.

  “We do work well together. I’ll be around for the final one.”

  Alex sighed and let his arms drop from his chest. “Good. I have to be honest. I find much of what these women peddle to be nonsense, but I did like what Miss Fox said about your heart line. I don’t believe a word of it, but as the man who loves you, I like the idea of a happy life full of love with me, of course.”

  I took that step forward toward him and closed the distance between us as Madame Cassandra’s words about looking at my problems from a different perspective ran through my mind. I still disagreed with Alex on the tarot readings being useless, but maybe that was just the stable, logical part of him talking.

  And I had to admit, I found that part of him pretty incredible too.

  “Well, you keep being the down-to-earth king you are, and I’ll stay the emotional and intuitive queen I am, and I think we’ll be fine.”

  Alex a
rched one eyebrow in confusion. “King?”

  I waved off his question and winked at him. “Nevermind. It’s just something I heard. Let’s go in and see if Miss Chamberlain can fit us in now. On the way in, you can get me caught up with what the first two potential suspects had to say.”

  Chapter Seven

  While we were outside, more people had arrived, so when we returned to the convention, the crowd of attendees made getting to Melody Chamberlain’s booth on the left side of the hall difficult. Alex pushed his way through the people with me at his elbow, and as we arrived to her spot, I pulled him back from approaching her.

  Confused, he asked, “What’s going on, Poppy?”

  “I was just wondering if we were going with me doing most of the talking this time. I know you had some success with the first two, but I am more accepting of what’s going on here so maybe it would be better if I asked the questions.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “I think I’ll stay as the starter. Feel free to join in with any questions you have, like usual, though.”

  “Okay. Lead the way.”

  Melody Chamberlain stood on the far left side of the room at one of the tarot reader booths, and I noticed she didn’t look like the other women in the room. While Madame Cassandra had a unique hair color that made her stand out and Miss Fox had gone full gypsy with her look, Melody simply looked like anyone you’d see on the street. She wore her medium brown hair to her shoulders, and her makeup resembled the way I wore mine.

  She appeared to be a very average woman in a room full of far more theatrical characters. Dressed in a black skirt with a beige short-sleeved top and a few gold necklaces, she reminded me of what any office worker might look like Monday through Friday.

  A woman and a man stood at her booth thumbing through a pamphlet she offered, so Alex walked up to her table and said in an authoritative voice, “I’m back for that conversation, Miss Chamberlain. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  The couple stopped reading the brochure and looked over at Alex and me as Melody Chamberlain said, “I have people here now, officer. Maybe later.”

  In that way Alex could make someone feel uncomfortable without saying a word, he turned to look at the two people and narrowed his eyes to match the serious look on the rest of his face. Whatever Melody thought she had in them she lost quickly as they hurried off with her handout to another part of the hall.

  “Looks like you have time for those questions now,” he said flatly.

  I took my place at his side and watched Melody Chamberlain’s expression fall. Answering a police officer’s questions looked like the last thing she wanted to do.

  She bit the inside of her mouth for a few seconds before she accepted Alex had no intention of going away without some answers. She sighed and her shoulders sagged. “Okay, since you chased away my customers, I guess now is as good a time as any. What would you like to know?”

  Slowly, he pulled out his notepad and pen and flipped the cover and sheets of paper until he found a clean one. It was an intentional delay, and I’d seen him do it time and again with people to put them on the defensive. The whole action never failed to impress me with how effective it usually was.

  But today it didn’t seem to have much effect on her. She stood glaring at us, alternating from him to me in the time Alex spent looking for a spot to jot down his observations from their conversation. Something told me Melody didn’t fear the police as much as I’d thought at first.

  “This is my partner, Poppy McGuire, Miss Chamberlain. So, what can you tell me about your relationship with Amy Perkins?” Alex asked in his deep commanding voice.

  “I know her. I mean knew her. It’s so sad to hear what happened to her,” Melody answered, choking up on the word happened.

  Watching her like I was to see her reaction to his first question, something he’d told me was often the most telling since guilty people were often so eager to hide their guilt that they had to overwork to achieve it, he nodded. “Yes, it is. I take that to mean that you heard about her murder before right now. How did you find out?”

  Melody seemed surprised to be asked that question and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Tamara. I mean, of course she’d tell the group. We used to see Amy every Tuesday, so it’s not like it’s strange that she’d let us all know.”

  Glancing over at Alex’s notes, I saw him write CLAIMS TAMARA TOLD THE GROUP—NO ONE ELSE SAID THAT. It seemed strange that the other two members of the group hadn’t mentioned Tamara calling them to let them know about Amy’s untimely death.

  “Of course. Now how would you characterize your relationship with Amy Perkins, Miss Chamberlain? Were you close since you saw her every Tuesday and shared the same beliefs?”

  I listened carefully to her answer since I knew Amy hadn’t believed in the same religious ideas since she didn’t see herself as a witch. Melody smiled broadly, which seemed like a strange reaction to his question and made me wonder what she found so amusing.

  “I know you already heard about the issue between Tamara and Amy, Officer Montero. It’s not that big a thing, though. Tamara can be a little over the top with her zeal for the witches’ way, but Amy was accepted whatever she believed. We witches accept all. Blessed be.”

  Melody hung her head reverentially as she said those last two words and then lifted it to smile at me. “You know, I remember Amy saying that the last time I saw her. See, she really wasn’t a Druid, or whatever she claimed she believed in. By saying blessed be, she showed how much she was like we witches.”

  I mentally corrected her grammar—us witches, us not we—and saw Alex look over at me like he knew exactly what I was silently saying to myself. The writer in me didn’t take a day off, even when investigating a murder.

  “So would you characterize your relationship with Amy as friends?” he asked, trying to ascertain how close they were for the second time.

  “Oh, yes. All of us who are witches would be considered friends. We don’t have a coven, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t close.”

  Alex jotted down a few words about her answer while I asked, “Are you part of a coven, Miss Chamberlain?”

  Melody shook her head and gave me a smarmy smile. “Oh, no. Many non-witches think that all witches join covens, but it’s just not true. Many of us are solitary witches, like I am. That’s why I liked to attend the weekly witches’ circle meetings. To give me a chance to spend time with others like me.”

  I jumped on her use of the past tense there. “Liked to attend? Have you stopped going to the Tuesday night meetings?”

  Her smile faded quickly, and Alex focused his attention on her reaction. “Is something wrong, Miss Chamberlain? Is there a reason you’ve stopped attending the meetings at the Third Eye Mind and Body Center?”

  She nervously tugged on the three gold necklaces around her neck, pulling them down in between her breasts until they must have been cutting into the skin on the back of her neck. When she realized I was watching her, she dropped her hands from the chains and shifted her gaze to the floor.

  “I just meant that I enjoyed seeing Amy and the others. I still go. That hasn’t changed.”

  Her answer didn’t do anything to allay my suspicion that she had stopped attending the witches’ circle meetings, and I knew it didn’t dispel Alex’s curiosity about her use of the past tense either. However, he didn’t dwell on the issue and continued with his questioning.

  “You mentioned Tamara Ridgeway’s zeal about witchcraft. We’ve learned that this caused quite a rift between her and Amy. Do you believe that was their only disagreement?”

  Melody looked up and her pale blue eyes grew wide. Shaking her head rapidly, she answered, “I don’t feel right telling you this because I don’t want to betray a fellow witch, but I know it wasn’t their only disagreement. Tamara and Amy didn’t agree on much, in fact.”

  “Like what?” Alex asked as I eagerly waited for her to explain what else the two women had fought about.
<
br />   The voice in my head said Ten bucks they fought over a guy.

  “Well, I feel wrong saying anything about it. It was a private matter between two consenting adults.”

  Maybe I was wrong. Had I been thinking jealousy over a man when I should have been going more direct with a love affair between them?

  I looked to my left and saw Alex staring down at her with that patient look he had. I knew the expression on my face was anything but that.

  “I…I mean, it’s nothing, really. They just had a disagreement over someone Amy had been seeing a while back. It didn’t last, and after they broke up it was all but forgotten.”

  She still hadn’t said it was a man, but the alarm bells had already started to go off in my head. Hoping to make sure we all were clear about this, I asked, “Are you talking about a boyfriend of Amy’s?”

  “Yes. Tamara didn’t like him much, I think.”

  I knew it. I knew there was a man in the middle of this somewhere. Amy was an attractive woman, so it wasn’t surprising that she dated a number of men. Tamara, on the other hand, was nowhere close to Amy’s league, so I had a feeling she had been jealous of Amy.

  “Do you know why she didn’t like this man? Do you remember his name?” Alex asked.

  “No, I don’t. I’m sorry. I never really knew why Tamara didn’t like him, but I heard them fighting one Tuesday night before a witches’ circle meeting and I can tell you it got pretty heated. I heard Tamara say he was no good to any of us, but I didn’t know what she meant by that. Then she said, ‘You better be careful’ and I hurried out to the meeting room before either one of them knew I was there.”

  “Do you know if Amy was dating him still when she was murdered the other night?” I asked, quite curious about the mystery man.