Murder by the Cup

by Abigail Thornton

  The chief looked heavenward as if sending a prayer to the Creator for help. “Sure. Why not?” he snapped, waving his arm at the ashes. “Let’s see if a powerless witch can see more than a trained police crew.”

  Ignoring the jab, Wynona tentatively walked over. She could feel the eyes of the team on her again and it made her skin itch. The golden eyes were the worst. It was as if she could pick them out of all the others, probably because he’d winked at her and come to her defense earlier.

  Clasping her hands behind her, she studied the ashes. Her frown grew the longer she looked.

  “See anything interesting?”

  Wynona jumped slightly and looked up into the face of the handsome officer with the messy hair.

  “Do share,” the chief drawled.

  Wynona pinched her lips together, then decided things couldn’t get any worse. “Well, I’m sure you already noticed, but the shape left behind with the ashes is of medium height and slim build.”

  “Of course,” the chief said in an unimpressed tone.

  “Atherton Droxon is a gnome.”

  The chief waved a hand in the air as if to say And...

  “So, he’s short and round,” Wynona continued. She straightened. The more she thought about it, the more she knew she had to be correct. “Don’t you think the ashes would be more in the shape of a circle if it was him?”

  The chief took a moment to respond. He put his hand on his hips. “Are you telling me that you don’t think this is Atherton Droxon? Wasn’t it you who told me it was when I first arrived? You recognized the apron, right?”

  Wynona nodded. “Yes. It’s his apron, but I’m reasonably sure it’s not his body.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” the wood fairy officer murmured.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Chief Ligurio said slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “You think someone...dressed like Atherton Droxon...broke into your shop, got himself killed with a hex... but isn’t actually Atherton Droxon?”

  Wynona nodded firmly. “Yes.”

  The chief opened his mouth, but a shout from down the hall caught their attention. Wynona’s eyebrows shot up. She knew that voice. Turning to the door, she waited.

  “What is going on here?” Chef Droxon screeched as he burst into the office.

  “But...” One of the officers started to argue.

  “You’re not dead,” Chief Ligurio said, his tone almost disappointed.

  “Dead?” Chef Droxon scoffed. “I not dead. I bake!” He glared at the room, Wynona included, then his black eyes landed on the ashes. “Who is that?” he demanded in his usual imperial tone.

  “Not you, apparently,” the handsome officer muttered under his breath.

  Wynona glanced his way and met his stunning eyes again.

  “Good work, Ms. Le Doux,” he said, a note of admiration in his voice.

  Heat infused her cheeks. “Thanks. But that still leaves us with a question.”

  “Yep.” The officer turned and Wynona saw his nametag: Officer Strongclaw. “If this isn’t Chef Droxon,” he looked up at his chief, “who is it?”

  CHAPTER 6

  Wynona once again sat at a tea table and tried to control her breathing. Her face was buried in her hands and the loud voices around her all seemed to blur into complete chaos. She was ready to scream. How could this day have gone so horribly wrong? She’d been so excited. Her contract with Chef Droxon was in place, she was only six days from opening, the mouse hadn’t been killed... For a split second, life had been good.

  Now she had a dead body, an angry chef and a suspicious police chief. Though the chef had been sent home, the other two were still in her shop. It was all moving too fast for her to keep her head wrapped around it. A large, warm hand landed on her neck and began to massage.

  “Oooh, that feels good,” she moaned, letting her head hang forward.

  “I thought it might.”

  Wynona let herself enjoy the touch just a moment longer, before she straightened and pulled away. Roderick was handsome, hadn’t yet said anything about her lack of powers, and was extremely charming, but right now she had no desire to consider anything beyond a platonic relationship. “Thank you.” She gave him a smile as she stood and moved out of his reach. Perhaps when this murder was taken care of, she could see if he wanted to come over for an afternoon tea and they could test out this spark, but not right now.

  Roderick nodded. “Anytime.”

  “Ms. Le Doux?”

  She spun. “Yes?” It was the officer with the delightfully messy hair. Once again, Wynona had the feeling the man was a shifter. There was something inherently predatory about him, but not in a bad way. He just seemed strong and confident, and his movements were smooth and calculated.

  “Would you mind stepping into the kitchen to answer a few questions?” he asked. His golden eyes were narrowed, making him look slightly intimidating, but Wynona realized he wasn’t even looking at her.

  Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder to see Roderick looking smug, staring right back at the officer. Shaking her head at the weirdness of it all, she began to walk his way. “Of course,” she responded.

  “Do you need me to come?” Roderick called.

  Wynona waved him off. His presence was comforting, but it wasn’t like she was afraid of the police. She knew she was innocent. Surely the truth would come out. “Thank you,” she murmured as he held the door open for her. Stepping inside, she leaned her hip against a counter and folded her arms over her chest. “What can I do for you, Officer Strongclaw?”

  He snorted. “Just call me Rascal.”

  Wynona couldn’t help the bubble of laughter. “Rascal?”

  The officer didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. “Yeah. My parents cursed me with a very pretentious name, but my friends quickly nicknamed me Rascal.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “It stuck.”

  “I think the real question is, does it fit?” Wynona asked.

  A slow smile spread across his delicious face. “I hate to admit it, but yeah...probably.”

  She laughed softly. “Good to know.” A piece of hair fell across her face when she tilted her head. “But now I’m curious about your full name.”

  Rascal shook his head. “Nope.” He made some notes in a small notebook. “That’s privileged information. Plus, I’m the one supposed to be asking the questions here.”

  Wynona nodded slowly. “Ah...gotcha.” She grinned. “I’ll just have to ask around.”

  Rascal winked. “Good luck.” He sobered. “You ready for me to ask some questions about the murder?”

  All humor fled and Wynona nodded. “Yes. Go ahead.”

  “Before we start, I’m sorry about my boss. He’s been around a long time and sometimes wants to jump to the end, rather than take all the necessary steps in between.”

  Wynona nodded her understanding. “I get it. I’m sure everyone gets a little burnt out in a job like this.”

  “We can,” Rascal mumbled. He cleared his throat. “Okay. Let’s start from the beginning. You said you were the last one to leave yesterday?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I had a meeting with Chef Droxon where we had a taste test and picked out what pastries he was going to supply for the shop.”

  “Did you pick anything good?” His golden eyes sparkled with good humor.

  Wynona barked a laugh, her hands automatically covering her mouth. “Aren’t they all good?”

  “Point taken.” Rascal nodded. “Continue, please.” His pen was poised above his notepad.

  “I stayed here after everyone left...” Wynona’s eyes shot open. “Oh my goodness. How could I have forgotten?”

  Rascal gave her an expectant look.

  Wynona tucked the stray hair back, eager to share her memory. “A man tried to steal Chef Droxon’s little black book yesterday.”

  Rascal didn’t move. “What?”

  “Yes. A man was pretending to be one of Chef Droxon’s employees. I was walking around givin
g out tea gift bags to everyone to say thank you, and the man panicked when I tried to give him one. Just as he ran me over, Chef Droxon came in screaming that someone had stolen his recipe book. Then Roderick arrived and saved me from the dog pile, but while I was calling the police, the man escaped.”

  Rascal closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. “Let me get this straight. A thief tried to steal Chef Droxon’s recipes. He ran you over?”

  His eyes ran up and down Wynona’s body as if to check on her story and she felt a flush rush up her neck. White skin was such a curse sometimes.

  “Mr. Caligari played hero and saved the day.” There was no mistaking the slight edge of resentment in his tone, though Wynona had no idea why. “The book was returned, but the thief escaped. Sound about right?”

  Wynona nodded. “That’s it in a nutshell.”

  Rascal nodded several times and scribbled on his notepad for a few moments, putting a finger in the air for her to wait. Grabbing the radio that was attached to his collar, Rascal relayed a message. “Chief. There was a robbery here yesterday. We need to get the paperwork on it.” Rascal glanced her way. “You did say you called the police?”

  “Yes,” she clarified. “I spoke with Officer Nightshade.”

  “That explains it,” Rascal muttered. “She’s off duty today.” He then told his chief the same information.

  “I want that folder now,” Chief Ligurio snapped.

  Wynona gasped. She waited until Rascal was able to focus on her again. “Can I look at the body again?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Got another hunch?”

  Wynona nodded. “I think maybe the body is the thief from yesterday.”

  “And how will you be able to tell that? It’s nothing but ash.”

  “His shoes.” Wynona took off walking. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about yesterday’s debacle, but as soon as she’d retold the story, the recollection of the man’s non-squeaky shoes burst back into her mind with a vengeance.

  Wynona could feel Rascal behind her as she dashed through the main room and down the hall. She stopped in the doorway, Rascal’s large presence, warm and comforting behind her. “It’s him,” she whispered.

  “What are you doing back here?” the chief asked, sounding exhausted. “Rascal, I thought you were interrogating her.”

  “She had a hunch,” he said unapologetically.

  “A hunch?” The chief didn’t sound impressed. “Like the one about it not being Chef Droxon?” Red eyes turned to her.

  “You could say that,” Wynona said. “I’m sure you all have noticed the shoes, since none of the clothes were burnt.”

  “The point, Ms. Le Doux,” Chief Ligurio demanded.

  Wynona pointed to the rubber soled shoes. “I saw those on the thief from yesterday. I noticed because he wasn’t wearing the same squeaky sneakers as the rest of Chef Droxon’s employees. They all had on the kind meant to keep someone from slipping on a kitchen floor.”

  “And this guy didn’t?” the chief mused as he looked down at the crime scene.

  Wynona held her breath. She had poked her nose into this investigation too much. She just hoped it was enough to not only get her off the hook, but help the police get it solved quickly. She had a business to open.

  “That doesn’t help us figure out who this guy is,” Rascal said from behind her. “He’s wearing Chef Droxon’s clothes.”

  “Yeah, that’s strange,” Wynona agreed.

  “What? No hunches about why?” Chief Ligurio drawled.

  “I have no doubt that you and your wonderful team will figure that out,” Wynona said in her most polite voice.

  The chief snorted, but went back to the paperwork he was looking at.

  Slowly, Wynona backed out of the room. She’d pressed things enough for one day. Probably should let the chief forget about her for a while. “Do you have any more questions?” she asked as she and Rascal walked down the hallway.

  “Just a good description of the morning’s events,” Rascal said, checking his notes. “And your alibi.” He glanced her way. “I know you said you were home alone, but I need the official statement.”

  Wynona nodded. “Gladly.” They paused before reaching the main room and Wynona told him everything he needed to know. “I think that’s it,” she finished. “I’m sorry I don’t have more for you.”

  Rascal chuckled. “I think you’ve been very helpful, Ms. Le Doux.”

  “Wynona,” she quickly corrected. Heat infused her cheeks once more when he raised his eyebrows at her. “If I’m calling you Rascal, it doesn’t seem right to have you address me so formally.”

  Rascal nodded. “Sounds good. Thanks.”

  “Hey, Nona?”

  Wynona turned to her friend, who was watching from the same table as before.

  “What are we going to do about opening?”

  Wynona frowned a little as she cleared the hallway and entered the main room. Roderick was leaning against the far wall as well. “What do you mean?”

  “If the investigation is still going on, are they going to let you open the shop next week?” Prim asked, her eyes dancing between Rascal and Wynona.

  Wynona froze. “Surely they won’t be here that long?” She turned to Rascal, trying to keep her panic hidden. Prim had mentioned the possible problem earlier, but the conversation had taken a different turn and Wynona hadn’t had a chance to consider the consequences of the case.

  Rascal gave her sheepish look. “I don’t know, but I doubt it.”

  Wynona felt her face fall. “Well, how long do you think it’s going to take to get this wrapped up? I’m supposed to open in six days.”

  Rascal scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know, but murders usually take a little longer than other crimes. Six days doesn’t seem like a lot in the grand scheme of things.”

  Wynona rubbed her pulsing forehead. “I understand,” she said softly. She did, she really did. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. The idea of helping solve the mystery flitted through her mind, but Wynona pushed it away. This wasn’t her problem, not to mention she was busy enough as it was. She’d already offered the police what she could. They could take it from here and Wynona would just hope they were quick workers.

  Footsteps echoed through the room as Roderick came to stand by her side. “Don’t worry,” he said softly, bumping his shoulder against hers. “We’ll get it all figured out.”

  Wynona smiled up at him. “Thanks,” she said. It was nice to know she had friends in this situation. She’d only ever had Granny to rely on and that connection had been severed just a few months ago. Without any magic, it would stay that way.

  “I’m sure the police will get it figured out quickly,” Prim added, though her eyes still looked worried.

  Wynona nodded. She felt the same as Prim. They didn’t even know the victim’s name. Or why he was dressed like Chef Droxon. Or why he was at the shop!

  A sense of hopelessness tried to engulf her. She had put her entire future into this shop. What was going to happen if she had to postpone everything? She was booked solid with patrons for the first two months.

  Closing her eyes, Wynona forced herself to breathe slowly. She had been through worse than this. She’d lived with a family who hated her for thirty years. There was no way that a murder in her shop was going to get her down.

  Roderick’s arm came around her shoulder and he gave her a side squeeze. “I meant it. We’ll get through this.”

  Wynona opened her eyes and looked up gratefully. “Thanks,” she responded. “I appreciate you sticking around.”

  If silver could be warm, that’s exactly what his eyes were right now. “Anytime,” he said.

  There was an extra message in that, but Wynona let it go. She did, however, allow herself to relax against him. For just a moment, she would let someone else help hold her up. Then, like she always did, she’d pick herself up, brush off the dust and move on. Very little good came from living with her family, but
the ability to push past negative situations was one of them.

  “I’ll let you know if we need anything else,” Rascal said, bringing Wynona out of her mental pep talk. He snapped his notebook shut, gave her a polite nod, did the same for Prim, then turned and walked back to the office.

  It wasn’t lost on Wynona that he’d ignored Roderick, but it was of little importance at the moment.

  Roderick glanced at his watch. “I have another meeting.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “I can cancel. Do you need me to stay here?”

  Wynona shook her head. “No, thank you. We’ll be fine.” Her smile was genuine, if a little sad. Not at his leaving, but at the situation. This wasn’t what she had hoped for, but it was the hand she’d been dealt.

  She walked Roderick out, then joined Prim at the table.

  “Did you still want to go over flower arrangements?” Prim asked warily. “We don’t have to do it now.”

  Wynona shook her head. “No. I’d like to.” Her smile trembled slightly. “Until I know otherwise, I’m absolutely planning to open on time.”

  Prim made a face. “From the looks of it, they might need your help to do that.” She gave Wynona a significant look.

  “Don’t tempt me,” Wynona whispered. The thought still sat in the back of her mind, but she really didn’t want to get involved. She was finally free from her horrible family, and now she just wanted to focus on making friends and opening her shop in her granny’s name. That’s it. She wanted nothing to do with murder.

  CHAPTER 7

  It felt weird to enter the shop the next morning, but Wynona was determined not to let yesterday’s setback slow down her progress. She now only had five days until opening and she had things to do.

  The shop was dark as she walked into the kitchen and the first thing she did was quickly walk around, turning on all the lights. She paused at the entrance to the hallway, noting the police tape still covering her office door. It was off limits to anyone without a badge, though they had been kind enough to let Wynona grab her books and computer before they shut it down last night.