Portion Disaster
Page 5
"He's dead!" Natalie shouted. "Trevor Baily's dead!"
There, at her feet, lay Trevor. He was face down and not moving.
Natalie gave one final cry before she fainted, collapsing neatly on top of Trevor's lifeless body.
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CHAPTER
SEVEN
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For half a second, the bakery was completely silent. No one moved. No one spoke. Then mayhem broke out.
"Aaahh!" screamed someone from the far side of the room. The cry erupted through the air like a volcano, followed by more cries, louder cries.
"It's Polly Peacock!"
"She did it all right!"
"It's Calista Woodruff!"
"Get them both!"
Polly and Calista screamed as the partygoers rushed toward them. Wilma jumped in front of Polly. Blossom and Edith jumped in front of Calista.
"Stay back, you warthogs!" Edith Woodruff cried. "If any of you touch my granddaughter, I'll turn you into soup!"
Sheriff Knoxx jumped onto a chair. "QUUUIEEEETTTT!" he roared.
The cake wobbled unsteadily. The chairs and tables rattled where they stood. His inner-goblin was showing again but this time it was a good thing. The room settled down. Everyone looked at him. Colt grabbed my hand, squeezed it, then went to join Sheriff Knoxx. Lincoln Maxwell did the same.
"All right," Sheriff Knoxx said, "everyone move away from Trevor and Natalie."
Rocky barked his agreement.
Snowball ran over to Natalie Vargas, who was still unconscious. She licked Natalie's face and her eyelids began to flutter. Slowly, her eyes opened. "What hap—" Her mouth froze when she realized what she was lying on. She scrambled off Trevor, her face alternating shades of red and white. She tried to scream but it came out all garbled.
"Someone help Natalie," Colt said and several of the women gathered her up and helped her to a chair. Her entire body was shaking as she sat down.
Megan Lockwood, Lucy's younger sister, opened the front door. She had one foot outside before Sheriff Knoxx ran to stop her. He was so fast that if you'd have blinked you'd have missed him. He pulled Megan back and slammed the door shut before she could get away.
"What the—" Megan started.
"No one's going anywhere," Sheriff Knoxx said. Megan pouted but he ignored her. Trevor's body was just feet away from him. He went to it and kneeled. We watched as he pulled Trevor's wrist out and searched for a pulse. He set Trevor's arm down a minute later, shaking his head, and stood back up. "First of all, we don't even know how Trevor died."
Eleanor beamed proudly at him. She liked that he was able to take charge in these types of situations. It made her feel safe. The only thing that would have made me feel safe right now would have been not having any dead bodies at my birthday party.
"I'm not staying here with a dead body," Megan squealed. You'd have thought she was twelve instead of nineteen by the way her voice rose.
"The sheriff's right," Colt said, jumping in. "As a COMHA agent, I have to side with Sheriff Knoxx on this. No one goes anywhere until we've gotten your statements and figured a few things out."
Sheriff Maxwell joined Sheriff Knoxx by Trevor's body, which now had a wide-open space around it. He hunkered down, flipped Trevor over, then quickly flipped him back face down. He stood and whispered something to Sheriff Knoxx, whose face paled. Colt joined them and the three men conferred together for a good minute before turning back to the crowd.
I tried to get a good look at Trevor. I couldn't believe he was really dead. From where I stood, he looked like he was sleeping.
"Otis," Sheriff Knoxx called, signaling to a Barney Fife-ish man with a skunk on his shoulder. Otis was the new mayor of Sweetland Cove but, before that, he had been Sheriff Knoxx's deputy. Otis headed toward him. The sheriff searched the rest of the room. "Melbourne. Russell," he called out, signaling to them. The party guests watched with interest as Melbourne and Russell both hurried forward.
When the men had all gathered around the sheriff, Colt went into the back room where we kept our baking supplies and ovens. He came back with a sheet, which he used to cover Trevor's body. Very carefully, Otis, Melbourne, Russell, and Sheriff Knoxx lifted Trevor off the floor and carried him into the back, where he would be out of sight. Colt and Lincoln stayed in the main room with everyone to make sure no one left.
"What do you think happened to him?" Felicity asked, sidling up next to me.
I shrugged. "I have no idea. He seemed fine when I talked to him earlier."
I looked around for Lucy and found her standing in a corner. Her face was white. So much had happened so fast I hadn't even realized she'd wandered away from me. As I watched her, she did some very un-Lucy-like things. Normally the picture of confidence, she tapped her foot on the floor nervously and twiddled her thumbs. Her shoulders slumped. She was staring at the floor and looked like she had no intention of breathing at a normal rate.
"What's wrong with Lucy?" I asked.
Felicity looked in the direction I indicated.
"She must've gotten freaked out." She shrugged. "Like everyone else."
I took a step toward her but stopped when Megan made another move for the door. Colt stopped her before she could escape. She fought him, attempting to stomp on his toes. Her hands flailed through the air and she managed to squish his foot with hers before he tickled her tummy. Her face went red and she ran away from him, gasping for air and laughing loudly.
Sheriff Knoxx poked his head out of the back, his eyes scanning the room. "Dr. Dunne," he called out.
A man wearing a light-colored suit and a serious expression stepped forward. As all eyes turned toward the doctor, Melbourne, Russell, and Otis quietly exited the back room and disappeared into the crowd, trying not to draw attention to themselves.
Dr. Gregory Dunne was one of the few humans on Heavenly Haven who knew the truth about the paranormals living here and did not pretend otherwise. As the head doctor at Sweetland Hospital, he had to remain privy to everything that happened on the island, including every species that resided here, from witches to goblins to fairies. After all, if he didn't know what species he was treating, he couldn't treat them.
In his fifties, Dr. Dunne was well-respected in both Sweetland Cove and Mistmoor Point. His voice was loud but not offensive, and he had round spectacles he wore propped on his head, which made him look like a grandfather. He was the kind of person people felt comfortable with. He hurried toward the sheriff. The door to the back room closed quickly behind them, blocking everyone's view. There were several sighs. People were eager to get a look at what was happening.
"What do you think they're doing back there?" Felicity asked me.
I shrugged. "Trying to figure out how he died, probably."
"I didn't see any blood," Felicity said.
"Maybe it was a heart attack?"
Felicity gave me a look. "He was a little young for that, don't you think?"
I agreed with her but couldn't think of any other explanation for his sudden death.
Natalie Vargas was wailing dramatically at the other end of the room. "One minute he was there, standing beside me, alive and happy, the next, he was DEEEEAAAD!" She buried her face in a tissue, peeking out from behind it a moment later to see who was watching. When she saw that most everyone was watching, her sobs grew even louder.
"When can we go?" someone shouted at Colt.
"Yeah, I want to get home," someone else called, their voice sounding angry.
Colt and Lincoln leaned their heads in together.
Lincoln cleared his throat. "We'll start taking statements as soon as we learn—"
The door to the back room opened, and Dr. Dunne stepped out with Sheriff Knoxx. "We're going to interview you all individually," Sheriff Knoxx said. "But first, I want everyone to empty their pockets."
"What? Why?" Betty Stokes, one of our neighbo
rs, called.
"Because," Dr. Dunne said, "Trevor Baily didn't just die. He was murdered."
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CHAPTER
EIGHT
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There were fresh cries and hurried whispers as Dr. Dunne made his way to the center of the room, followed by Sheriff Knoxx.
"How can you determine murder so quickly?" Melbourne asked.
Melbourne Hammond was always practical, preferring to think logically rather than let his emotions run away with him. It was a common trait amongst vampires, though certainly not shared by all. His dark hair had remained thick into his forties, when he'd been turned. He said it was the one good thing about being undead—he didn't have to worry about a receding hairline.
"Don't you need to perform an autopsy before you can make that type of decision?" Melbourne asked.
There were murmurs of agreement. Several people nodded. Several more began to look irritated. The party was officially over and if people weren't going to get answers—preferably juicy answers—from those in charge, they wanted to go home.
I spotted Polly and Calista together in a corner, surrounded by their families. They looked worried. I watched Polly's eyes, unable to shake the image of them going black just before I'd blown out my candles.
It was dark. You were seeing things.
I nodded, agreeing with my inner voice despite the goose pimples on my arms.
"Normally, that might be true," Dr. Dunne said. He looked at Sheriff Knoxx, who nodded for him to continue. "But in this case, the cause of death is quite obvious." He cleared his throat. "Trevor Bailey was stabbed."
There was silence followed by a barrage of questions.
"With what?"
"Are you sure?"
"I didn't see any blood!"
All eyes fell on Natalie, who had been the closest one to him when the lights went out. "What?" she asked, her body tensing. "Why are you all looking at me?"
"You were standing right by him," Megan said. "Did you see anything?"
Natalie stared at her a second. "No. I mean, it was too dark. How could I? What are you implying?"
"Nothing," Megan snapped. "I was just asking a question."
"Why don't you ask someone who might actually know something then?" Natalie snapped back.
"Like who?"
"How about Calista Woodruff?" Natalie said. Her head swiveled on her shoulders. The rest of the room followed her gaze. Terrified, Calista stared back at what was quickly turning into an angry mob.
"I didn't do it!" Calista cried.
"How dare you?" Blossom said, one arm protectively around her daughter. Everyone in the room began to shout at the same time. Most of the cries consisted of accusing Calista of murder.
I felt something soft and furry move between my ankles. I looked down to see Snowball's fuzzy head rubbing against my skin. I picked her up and absently began stroking under her chin.
"Snowy must talk to Mama," Snowball said, licking my cheek.
"In just a minute, Snowy," I told her.
A second set of fur ran between my ankles. Tootsie was at my feet now, looking up at me with a needy expression that wasn't like him. There was a loud bark, and Rocky jumped on Eleanor's back, almost knocking her over. Eleanor rounded on him with her best reproachful expression but Rocky did not go away. He merely sat on his haunches, waiting for his chance to speak.
Colt drew his fingers to his mouth and whistled. It screeched through the air like a siren and everyone stopped talking at once.
"Let the doctor finish what he was saying," Colt said. "In the meantime, start emptying your pockets like the sheriff told you to. And that means everyone." He shot a particularly irritated look at Megan and Natalie.
Reluctantly, people began to do as they were told. I instinctively reached for my pockets only to remember I didn't have any, not in this dress. I shot Lucy another look. She was still sulking in the corner, her eyes still cast down toward the floor. I bit my bottom lip and hoped she hadn't had a nervous breakdown or something. I set Snowy down and started making my way over to her.
Snowball clawed gently at my ankles. "Mama, Mama, Mama," she said.
"Not now, Snowy," I hissed. Snowball quieted at once. I felt a pang of guilt land in my chest. "When we get home, Snowy can have all the treats she wants."
"Tuna?" Snowball asked, her eyes lighting up.
"Yes, tuna. A whole can of it. Only right now, Mama needs you to be quiet."
"Okay," Snowball said, and when Tootsie tried to say something, Snowball quickly hushed him with a paw.
Sheriff Knoxx, Colt, and Lincoln began walking around the room, searching the items people had removed from their pockets and taking statements.
"Hey, Lucy," I said, coming up next to her. "You okay?" I put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake.
"What?" she asked, looking blankly up at me. "Oh, yeah. Fine." She bit her bottom lip and looked nervously around the room.
"Hey," I said gently. "What is it? Are you freaked out about Trevor?"
She shook her head. "Not exactly."
"This is going to take all night," Natalie shouted. "Someone must have seen something. Whoever it was, speak up so we can all get out of here."
Everyone looked around the room. People began to yell again. The situation was just too tense to keep them settled for long, no matter what the sheriff said.
"Come on!"
"I want to go home!"
"We all know who it was!"
"Polly!"
"Calista!"
Sheriff Knoxx let out a frustrated sigh. "It was dark. The chances of anyone actually seeing the murder are—"
"I saw it!" Lucy suddenly shouted. Her voice was trembling. Her hands shook like Jell-O. "I saw the whole thing."
Every eye in the room fell on her, including mine.
"Well?" Natalie demanded. "If you saw it, then who did it? Who stabbed Trevor?"
Lucy licked her lips and looked in the corner where Calista and Polly were still huddled together.
"Polly Peacock," she said.
Everyone turned to look at Polly, whose face first crumpled then tensed. She stepped out of the corner where she'd been hiding. She licked her lips and opened her mouth like she was about to say something, then made a mad dash for the back room... and the back door, which would lead to her escape.
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CHAPTER
NINE
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"Stop her!" someone shouted as Polly darted for the back room. If she got back there, she might be able to lock us out. Not for long but maybe just long enough to make her escape.
Lincoln made a grab for Polly and just missed her arm. Colt's luck was better. He slid on the floor like he was sliding into home plate and managed to grab hold of her ankle. She fell face-first toward the floor and landed with a loud thud.
Colt kneeled on her back as she began to shout. Wilma was crying. I felt bad for her. She'd taken a chance, trusting her niece, and it had backfired. All Wilma was really guilty of was wanting to give Polly a second chance. I was afraid the rest of the town might not see it that way, though. I could already spot several angry stares directed Wilma's way and knew what they were thinking. If Wilma hadn't brought Polly to my party, Trevor might still be alive.
Colt drew his handcuffs from off his waist and locked them around Polly's wrists as she wailed.
"No!" she cried. "Please! It wasn't me. I didn't do it. I didn't kill him. I swear it."
"Then why'd you run?" Colt asked.
"Why do you think?" Polly laughed derisively. "Everyone here is ready to convict me without even hearing my side."
"What's your side?" Colt asked.
"That I didn't do it."
"Why should we believe you?" Megan asked.
Colt
helped Polly up off the floor. She stood to face the room. "I don't know how to convince any of you that I'm innocent, but it's true. It wasn't me."
Lucy's eyes darkened. They didn't go black like Polly's had; this was simple anger clouding over them. "Are you saying that I'm lying?" she cried.
"Yes."
Crazed murmurs ran around the room. Suddenly, things had gotten interesting. No one wanted to leave anymore.
"I saw her do it," Lucy said, rolling her shoulders back. She was facing Sheriff Knoxx. I put one hand on her shoulder, trying to offer my support. "I know it was dark but I could still see. There were a lot of candles."
"It can't be true," Wilma said, her nose red and stuffy sounding. Her voice had grown nasally. "Polly was next to me the whole time. She never left my side."
"Mama," Snowball whispered, attacking my shoes.
"Tuna is for later, Snowy," I told her and returned my attention to Wilma. I wanted to believe her but I knew that Lucy wouldn't lie. She liked to gossip with the best of them but she'd never accuse someone of something if it hadn't really happened.
Polly stopped struggling with her cuffs. She stood looking dejected. She knew she was in serious trouble.
"Trevor was a big man," Wilma said. There were nods of agreement. "Look at my niece and remember that she doesn't have her powers anymore." Flickers of doubt began to surface in people's eyes. "Do you really think that Polly could have stabbed Trevor without anyone knowing what was happening?"
I had to admit, it was hard to imagine. Polly was small. Maybe five feet four inches. She weighed maybe a hundred pounds. Without magic, it was difficult to imagine that she'd have been able to make a dent in Trevor, let alone kill him.