Murder by the Cup

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Murder by the Cup Page 13

by Abigail Thornton


  Delila nodded. “Thank you.” She shrugged. “He wasn’t the best boss, but I’d been with him for several years.” She dabbed delicately at her eye again. “I just can’t imagine who would do something like this.”

  “May I?” Wynona pointed to the chair next to hers.

  Delila nodded. “Please.”

  Wynona sat down, taking her purse off and tucking it at her side. “Deputy Chief Strongclaw told me you found the body.”

  Delila nodded. “Yes. It was awful.” Her bottom lip began to tremble along with her voice. “Just a pile of ash. His clothes were normal, but his body was gone.” She sniffled and reached for another tissue, blowing it softly before dumping it in the trash.

  “It must have been an awful shock for you,” Wynona prodded.

  “It was.” Delila wiped a stray tear. “I’ve never seen the results of a hex before. It’s something you think only happens on the television, you know?”

  “Yes,” Wynona agreed. “What were you doing when it happened?” There was no way to ask the question delicately, but luckily, Ms Caseis was too caught up in her grief to get upset about it.

  “Working out front, at my desk.” Her eyes grew wide. “The whole office can vouch for me.”

  Wynona reached out and patted the woman’s knee. “I’m sure they can. I’m just trying to get a mental picture, is all.”

  Delila tilted her head. “Are you a detective or something? I thought you were a Le Doux.”

  “I am,” Wynona responded. “If you recall from our meeting the other day, I own a tea shop, but ended up getting caught up in...” She waved her hands around. “This.”

  Delila nodded, though it was clear she didn’t exactly understand. Which was fine. Wynona didn’t want to break it all down anyway.

  “Can you think of anyone who might have visited Chef Droxon during the time frame the police are looking at?” Delila’s eyes skittered away and Wynona immediately grew suspicious. She had seen this look before.

  “No one out of the ordinary,” the secretary said. She wrung the handkerchief in her hands, nearly tearing the fabric.

  “Can you tell me even the ordinary ones?” Wynona started a mental checklist in her head, ready to remember each and every name. She was sure Rascal already had it written down, but she wanted the information for herself.

  Delila’s eyes fell to her lap. “Just his...family, a couple of business associates.”

  “Family? Do you mean his wife, or his son?”

  Delila’s head jerked ever so slightly, but she played it off by stretching her neck. “Both. They had a family meeting during lunch.”

  “I see. And his business associates? Can you tell me their names?”

  The siren sighed, exasperation leaking into her tone. “I really don’t see what all this has to do with you, Ms. Le Doux.”

  Wynona fought to keep from arguing. This had everything to do with her. Whoever had mistakenly killed that thief back at her shop had finished the plot by killing Chef Droxon in his office. And despite having an alibi, she could tell the chief still didn’t believe her. Her shop was doomed if she couldn’t clear her name.

  Jerking upright, Wynona turned to Rascal, who was chatting with another officer nearby. “Deputy Chief Strongclaw. Did anyone check for Chef Droxon’s little black book?”

  Rascal huffed. “We checked. But nobody can find it.”

  “And the will? Is it still missing?”

  Rascal nodded. “Yep.”

  Wynona sagged in her seat. More than ever, she needed to find Chef Droxon’s son and confront him. Something just wasn’t adding up, and until she figured it out, she knew her entire future was in jeopardy.

  CHAPTER 16

  “Ms. Le Doux?”

  Wynona wasn’t sure she enjoyed them having to be so formal. She preferred when Rascal called her Wynona, but she couldn’t exactly scold him when they were in public and he was on the job. She gave Delila one last comforting pat, then stood and walked over, raising her eyebrows in question.

  “Find out anything interesting?” he asked in a low tone.

  “Nothing you probably don’t already know,” Wynona said. “Why?”

  Rascal sighed and pushed a hand through his thick hair. “She wasn’t exactly forthcoming about everything and I was hoping speaking to another woman might help her open up a little.”

  Wynona pursed her lips. “She told me Mrs. Droxon and her son, Kayne, were here. And that some business associates came by, but she didn’t seem keen to name any of them.”

  Rascal nodded. “Yeah...that’s about all we got.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure if she’s scared one of them did it and will target her next, or if she’s got something going on with one of the visitors and is trying to protect them.”

  “She’s hiding something for sure,” Wynona mused, tapping her bottom lip. “But I’m not sure what.”

  “Do you think she’s the killer?”

  Wynona shook her head. “No. I don’t. Do you?”

  Rascal responded in kind. “No. She doesn’t seem the type. I mean, she’s a siren and all, but she’s not exactly trying to charm every man on the force.” He gave Wynona a rueful grin. “Not that she would have to try hard. I think half my men started drooling the second they saw her.”

  “And you? Did you drool?” Wynona snapped her mouth shut. She shouldn’t have asked that. It wasn’t any of her business whether Rascal thought Ms. Caseis was attractive or not. She and Rascal were only friends and most of that was on a professional level. The fact that she found him attractive was irrelevant.

  A slow, boyish grin spread across his face. “I can’t say that I did,” he said, his tone slightly huskier than before. “I prefer my women a little less...high maintenance.”

  Wynona nodded jerkily, dropping her face to the floor in an effort to hide her ridiculous blush. “Good to know,” she responded in as much of a business tone as she could. She cleared her throat yet again. Rascal was going to think she had allergies if this kept up.

  “So, if you don’t think Ms. Caseis is the killer,” Rascal began, “who do you suspect?”

  Wynona pinched her lips together. “I’m not sure. None of the clues make sense.”

  “Such as?” he prodded.

  “Such as the missing will.” She turned to face him fully. “Speaking of, you deliberately never told me what was in that will.” She glared at him, though there was no heat behind the look. “I have a sneaking suspicion you did that on purpose.”

  Rascal grinned and shrugged. “I’ll never tell.”

  “What was in the will? Or whether or not you withheld information on purpose?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he taunted.

  Wynona fought the urge to roll her eyes. “What are we? Toddlers?”

  He chuckled. A deep rich sound that resonated through Wynona’s chest. “The will said his son Kayne would inherit everything. However, Chef Droxon told us he had plans to change the will. Planned to cut off Kayne completely.” Rascal squished his lips to one side. “I’m guessing that didn’t happen before he died. If the will ever shows up, it should show that Kayne inherited everything.”

  “Hmmm...”

  “What are you thinking?” Rascal asked, eyeing her. “I’m starting to recognize your looks, and this one means you’ve discovered something.”

  “What?” Wynona blinked several times. “Oh. I was just thinking how convenient that was for Kayne. He was supposed to be cut off, but his dad couldn’t change the will before he died? Don’t you find that suspicious?”

  Rascal nodded. “I do. Except that Kayne has an alibi.”

  Wynona’s shoulders drooped. “Everybody has an alibi.”

  He grinned. “True.”

  “Which means that someone, or multiple someones have to be lying,” Wynona continued. She looked up into Rascal’s golden orbs. “But who?”

  He scrunched up one side of his face. “I don’t know.” He scratched behind his ear. “Who would have
reason to?”

  Wynona tapped her bottom lip. “All of them, I suppose.” She glanced over to Delila. The woman was still sniffling and wiping tears, but when an officer handed her a cup of coffee, she gave him a grateful smile that disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. She shifted continually in her seat, telling Wynona the woman was nervous. But why? That was the biggest question. There just didn’t seem to be a good reason for the secretary to kill her boss. Or kill someone else in his place.

  “The recipes,” Wynona breathed. “Obviously they were after the recipes the whole time.” She frowned. “But why kill for them? When that man tried to steal them at my shop, he wasn’t attempting murder. He was just a thief.”

  “Joksac Skinflayer.”

  Wynona paused. “What?”

  Rascal scrambled for a notebook in his pocket and flipped through its pages. “Joksac Skinflayer. The thief you were talking about.” He snapped the notebook closed. “He was a doppelganger.”

  “Ah. That explains why someone thought he was the chef when they killed him,” Wynona mused, tucking the bit of information away.

  Rascal nodded. “Yeah. That’s what we thought too. Though when he was killed, he reverted back to his original form.”

  “Letting the killer know they had the wrong man,” Wynona finished for him.

  “Exactly.” Rascal’s eyes gleamed with pride and Wynona couldn’t help but smile at him.

  “That still doesn’t tell us why the person tried to kill the chef. Thievery doesn’t lend itself to murder.”

  “Unless it’s in self defense,” Rascal offered.

  “Coming back to kill the chef would dispel that theory. If they killed in self defense, why come back for him?”

  “Perhaps they were still after the recipe book,” Rascal said. “Both burglary attempts could have been botched.”

  “That seems unlikely.” Wynona scrunched her nose. “And why were they looking for the book in my office that night? I don’t have it. It was in Chef Droxon’s pocket.”

  Rascal blew out a long breath. “Guess that doesn’t work.”

  “None of it does,” Wynona complained. “I feel like everything just turns in circles. If the recipe booklet was the real reason for the crimes, none of our suspects seem likely to want it. His wife certainly had no reason to want it. She already had access to his money, as long as he was alive. His son was out of the will, but how would stealing the recipes help that? And his secretary had been working here for years. If she wanted the recipe booklet, there’s no way she would have had to kill for it. She knew this building, and more than likely knew his office and schedule. Of any of them, she would have the best chance of getting away with stealing it without having to commit murder.” Wynona rubbed her temples. “I’m missing something,” she murmured. “Something important. And when I find it, everything will become clear.”

  Rascal put his hand on her shoulder, creating a hotspot, which traveled down her arm. “Don’t stress about it,” he encouraged. “These things have a way of coming to light. If people are lying, we’ll eventually figure it out.”

  Although she appreciated the sentiment, Wynona didn’t have time to wait it out. Her shop was set to open in just a couple of days. She couldn’t afford to relax about the matter.

  “Ms. Le Doux.” Chief Ligurio was scowling deeply as he approached them.

  Rascal’s hand dropped from her shoulder and Wynona felt slightly colder from the loss. “Sir,” he said in a serious tone.

  Wynona lifted her chin slightly. “Chief Ligurio. What can I do for you?”

  His red eyes were menacing as he glared at her. “I came to warn you not to leave town.”

  Wynona huffed and folded her arms over her chest. “Not that I had plans to, but would you care to tell me why I’m being warned in such a way?”

  He stepped a little closer and Wynona had to fight to hold her ground. She knew she was innocent, and nothing this man could do would change that. But without any powers to protect herself, she couldn’t help but be a little intimidated by him. “Because I have every intention of proving that you’re lying,” he said in a low tone. “And when I do, you and your family will have nowhere to hide.”

  Wynona stood, stunned, as the police chief stalked away. She was fully aware that her family’s power made them targets and not everyone liked the way the Le Doux’s or other witch families ruled Hex Haven, but this was being taken to an extreme.

  “I’m sorry,” Rascal said from behind her.

  Wynona turned just enough to look at him. He looked exhausted as he scrubbed his face with his palms. “It’s not your fault that he’s such a jerk,” she said before stopping herself. She blew out a breath. “Now I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Rascal shook his head. “Under the circumstances, I think you had every right.”

  “I just don’t understand why he’s so determined to see me go to jail. I’d never even met him before you all showed up at my shop.”

  Rascal shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this.” He made a face. “I mean, Chief has always been kinda hard-nosed. I think it comes from living so long, but he’s also usually pretty good about digging for the truth, instead of jumping to conclusions.”

  That headache was pounding against her forehead again and Wynona rubbed the spot. “Maybe I better go. I don’t think there’s anything else I can learn from here anyway.”

  Warm fingertips brushed her upper arm. “Be careful out there, huh? I don’t like the fact that we’ve had two dead bodies in as many days.”

  Wynona nodded, grateful for his concern. “Thank you, I will be.”

  “In fact...” Rascal began searching his pockets until he handed her a small tube. “Keep this on you.”

  Wynona frowned and studied it. “What is it?”

  “A Banshee Scream,” Rascal explained. “The container is spelled to hit whoever the container is aimed at.” He grinned. “So don’t mix up the front and back.”

  Wynona gave him a look. “I think I can handle that.”

  “Anyway, it’ll incapacitate whoever it hits.” His golden eyes turned warm. “Maybe it’ll help keep you safe since you don’t have, uh...” He trailed off, obviously worried about offending her.

  “Since I don’t have powers?” Wynona said plainly. There was no use beating around the bush. She wasn’t happy about it, but she couldn’t exactly hide it either. “Thank you,” she said softly. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  Rascal gave her his signature wink. “Anytime.”

  Holding the container up with a little shake, she gave him a smile and left the building. Once outside, Wynona shot off a group text to Roderick and Prim. After what she had just learned, it appeared that true to her landlord’s claim, more tea was in order.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Wynona Le Doux to see Mrs. Droxon,” Wynona said to Gerall, the Droxons’ butler. She wasn’t really very excited to be back at the Droxon manor, but she was hoping to use giving her condolences to Mrs. Droxon as an excuse to see if Kayne was home. So far he had managed to evade her at every turn. Her time was running out and if she didn’t catch a break in this case soon, it was going to be too late.

  “The family is in mourning,” Gerall said crisply. “They aren’t taking callers.”

  Wynona did her best to keep her smile in place. “I understand that, but I believe Mrs. Droxon will see me. Please announce me anyway.”

  Gerall’s lip curled at the edge. His yellow eyes pinned Wynona in place. He was certainly willing to give her a dirty look, but apparently looking was all he could offer because with a sniff, he turned and disappeared behind the large door.

  Wynona glanced at her watch. She had to be back at the shop in time to host an early dinner with Roderick and Prim. Now that Chef Droxon was dead, they needed to brainstorm all over again, since the game seemed to have changed...again.

  “Mrs. Droxon will see you,” Gerall said in a low tone. Slowly, he stepped bac
k, opening the door enough for her to enter.

  Wynona put a hand on his forearm and his head snapped toward her. “I appreciate that you’re protective of Mrs. Droxon,” she said in a soft voice. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

  Gerall hesitated before nodding his head. His stiff demeanor softened the tiniest bit as he led the way farther into the mansion.

  Wynona was sincere in her praise. She felt bad for Mrs. Droxon, even if staying in an abusive relationship was her own choice. No woman should feel it necessary to condemn herself to such a life. While Wynona had had her grandmother, she was glad that Maeve had Gerall.

  “Ms. Le Doux,” Gerall intoned, announcing Wynona at the door of the same room as before.

  Wynona walked inside and gave Maeve a sad smile. “Just Wynona,” she reminded her new acquaintance.

  Maeve nodded, her face pale and free from makeup. Her clothes were much subdued as well. Gone was the large historical dress and in its place were slim lounge pants that appeared to be made of silk. She was draped just as artfully across the fainting couch, however, and Wynona assumed Maeve didn’t know how to be anything but elegant.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Maeve.”

  Maeve nodded again and dabbed at her eyes. “Thank you,” she said thickly. Her eyes went to the far corner of the room. “Have you met my son? Kayne?”

  Wynona held back the squeal of excitement that wanted to break free, and the sigh of relief that wished to follow. Finally, she had caught the prodigal son. Turning slowly, she inclined her head. “Kayne. Good to meet you at last. I’m sorry it’s under such terrible circumstances.”

  Prim had been right. The son definitely took after his mother, which was definitely to his credit. Tall and lean, his features would have suited a lord of old time England. Blond hair was cut neatly at his shoulders and his ears poked delicately through the silky strands. His eyes were as blue as the ocean and sharp as ice. Slowly, he returned her greeting, never taking his eyes from hers. “Ms. Le Doux. Mother told me you visited the other day.” He tilted his head. “Why exactly are you looking into all this? The first murder and now the second? What do you have to do with them?”

 

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