Curse Me Under the Mistletoe

by Kennedy Layne

  My sweet Piper, you know how I feel about lying. I value loyalty above all else, and the alien hunter has become like family…in the “odd one in the bunch” kind of way. You can rest assured there are signs pointing in the direction of alien life, though no one is certain. Isn’t that the fun of exploration, darling?

  “Piper, you and I both know that Orwin loves debating with Pearl,” I interjected when I saw signs that the waitress was headed our way. “Honestly, a vacation to explore the pyramids sounds good right about now.”

  I somehow depressed myself a tad bit, because it was highly doubtful that I would ever be able to go on vacation. The length of time between premonitions wasn’t long enough, and my need for justice was too strong to let one slide by without trying to either save a life or put their killer behind bars.

  Well, you certainly know how to ruin a carefree moment, Miss Lilura. Knock-knock.

  I was saved from answering that door when the waitress finally stood at our table, ready to take our lunch order. Being reminded of my current lot in life had my appetite fading, so I ordered a cup of chicken noodle soup. It would help keep me warm when Piper and I headed back out to visit some other shops.

  “What happened with the boutique owner?” I asked Piper once the waitress had left to go and put in our order. I had already scanned the patrons in the diner to see if I recognized anyone. Esther and Sandra weren’t among them, and neither was Roy Eisaman. The landlord’s absence was a relief. “Did she have anything to say about the Boonevilles?”

  “We’re going to have to go back,” Piper said before taking a sip of her tea. She’d asked the waitress if we could have the small ceramic cream dispenser warmed up in the microwave for exactly twenty-one seconds. Had we been in a big city, the waitress wouldn’t have thought anything of such a request. This place was another matter altogether, but the waitress was a bit too busy to kibitz about it. “That flash sale had customers filing in there in droves. She was too busy for me to ask her anything.”

  The waitress isn’t a cat person, either. There wasn’t one strand of cat hair on her uniform. I notice these things, dear hexed one.

  “You’re definitely going to want to go back to the boutique after we’re done having lunch,” Knox said, still leaning back in his chair. He was resting his right forearm on the table so that he could hold his coffee. His golden eyes hinted that he had a secret, and it proved to be a doozy. “What’s her name again?”

  “Iris Drummond.” Piper didn’t even look up from typing her notes into the app. “She and her husband, Bill, are regulars at the Thursday night card games.”

  “Why do you ask?” I inquired, waiting for the twist in this mystery. There was usually a curveball thrown at us, and I doubted this case would be an exception. “Was Iris’ name brought up at the house?”

  “No,” Knox answered as he rubbed the five o’clock shadow along his jawline. “But you might want to ask good ol’ Iris why someone would want Norma Booneville dead.”

  Oh, I could definitely use that spot of warm cream right about now. Is our wolfman saying that Mr. Booneville was not the intended target?

  I could understand why Pearl would word her question like that. Knox had spoken so casually that it took a moment for me to digest his words. Even Piper’s hand hovered over her phone as if she wasn’t quite sure she’d heard him correctly.

  “You’re going to want to start at the beginning,” I urged, coming to the conclusion that we’d been working this case all wrong. “Why do you think someone was after Norma and not her husband?”

  “Vanessa introduced me to Norma, as well as those close family members and friends who were visiting.” Knox shook his head in disbelief. “Norma and Edgar must have been really active in the community, because their doorbell didn’t stop ringing. People were coming in and out of the house like it was a public place. I made it a point to stay close to Norma. I couldn’t even tell you why, other than even I was uncomfortable with all of the attention she was receiving.”

  Knox had mentioned before that he didn’t like to be enclosed in small places. It was in a cave that he’d stumbled across Ammeline, so it made sense that he wouldn’t ever again allow himself to be in that type of enclosed environment.

  And rightly so, dear hexed one. You are the same when it comes to public places. Look at where you’re sitting, as opposed to my sweet Piper.

  “I overheard Norma crying, saying that it had been her own hot chocolate that Edgar had taken from the side table,” Knox explained, finally revealing the reason that Edgar might not have been the intended victim. “She’d set her drink down and gone back into the kitchen, believing that he’d wanted a cup of hot cider. He apparently drank half of it before getting up to see what was keeping her. Norma came through the doorway and—”

  “She was standing underneath the mistletoe, and her husband kissed her,” I whispered in dismay, finishing Knox’s story for him. I’d seen everything in my premonition. “Edgar just fell to the floor after that. Poor Norma.”

  It was quite dreadful to watch. I’m sure it doesn’t give her comfort, but the love we witnessed between them tells me that he would have willingly sacrificed himself for her, anyway.

  I agreed with Pearl, but someone still had to be brought to justice for what they did to a loving couple. What was so wrong in today’s world that someone would resort to murder?

  We’d be here for another two thousand years if I were to start saying the list aloud, dear hexed one. It’s our job to solve this case, and we will do exactly that. My sweet Piper, who does your app say is the prime suspect with this new information?

  Chapter Nine

  “We don’t have enough information,” Piper revealed, taking the last bite of her grilled cheese sandwich. She used her napkin to wipe her fingers. “Everything still points to Gracie Lynn as the prime suspect.”

  How so, my dear?

  “Well, there are motives on this app,” Piper explained, reaching for her glass of water. Pearl had already consumed her spot of lukewarm cream, and Knox had finished eating well before us. “It is basically saying that Gracie Lynn lost something in her life due to Edgar not being able to find a loophole in her lease, so she then took something from him in retaliation.”

  “Orwin has already ruled her out, so…”

  Knox and Piper carried on the conversation while I checked the time on my phone. Orwin had texted that he was on his way back with Gracie Lynn. He didn’t say much in his message other than Gracie Lynn definitely wasn’t our murderer. It shouldn’t be long before he joined us, which was why we’d ordered him something to eat. The BLT sandwich and fries had already been served and his plate was waiting for him.

  It is a good thing I had a hearty breakfast, otherwise that spot of lukewarm cream and tuna sandwich wouldn’t have been enough to get me through to dinner. It was a bit tepid. I have a feeling that waitress—the one who dislikes cats—didn’t do as she was instructed. Are there any cards to leave our opinion on, dear hexed one? The owner should know about her lack of attention to details.

  “I think it comes back to Debbie and Roger Wilkes,” I said, having thought through the scenario ever since Knox dropped his bombshell. Apparently, Norma had told the detectives that it had been her drink, but they were still focused on Gracie Lynn due to her public threat. “Roger Wilkes was at the Booneville residence that day, and it’s in writing that Debbie quit over not being made a partner in the business.”

  It stands to reason that those two detectives utilize my sweet Piper’s app, too.

  “Julie Kirkham did seem a bit rattled when we mentioned Debbie’s name,” Piper pointed out, quickly adding that detail to her notes. “Although, Vanessa said that wasn’t why she quit, and we never did hear the real reason behind her resignation.”

  “It wasn’t brought up in the car ride over to Mrs. Booneville’s house, either.” Knox reached for his wallet, though I did try to stop him. It was a long story, but the short end of it was that I had a tru
st fund. Granted, I’d spent three quarters of it on the RV so that we could have some type of base that could accommodate all of us. I was using the rest of the money to fund Operation Lich Queen. Knox always seemed to want to contribute to that fund. “We’re partners, remember?”

  I released Knox’s arm with a simple nod after we had a brief staring contest, completely understanding his logic. We were partners, and we were in this together.

  The waitress could have easily set my spot of cream down on the table between the two of you instead of shorting me seconds in the microwave. I’m sure my treat would have been either the perfect temperature or brought to a boiling point.

  “I’ll head back to the Booneville residence,” Knox said, reaching for his winter coat that he’d hung on the back of the chair after sliding his wallet into the pocket of his jeans. “Once I get an answer on the Wilkes thing, I’ll shoot you a text.”

  “Knox, what reason did you give Vanessa for why you were outside of her aunt and uncle’s house?” Piper asked, her blue eyes looking up at him with curiosity.

  Knox had all but indicated that Vanessa didn’t know anything about his curse or what our true mission was with these murders. It did beg to question what excuse he’d given to the niece of the murder victim.

  Beg? Did you just inadvertently express a dog pun, dear hexed one?

  “I knew there was something I forgot to mention,” Knox said, snapping his fingers as he flashed that charming smile of his. “We promised a friend that we’d check out Gracie Lynn’s involvement, seeing as she’s falsely presenting as one of us.”

  “And she fell for that?” Piper asked with disbelief, though she was truly the most trusting of our traveling band of mystery solvers. Pearl had pretty much expressed my thoughts, which had Piper glaring our way. “Fine. I might have believed that excuse myself, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have eventually begun to wonder the validity of it.”

  “Which is why I should get back to the house.” Knox buttoned his jacket and adjusted the shearling lapels. “I’ll let Vanessa know that Gracie Lynn had nothing to do with her uncle’s murder. See all of you back here for dinner at around five o’clock.”

  We all agreed to the time, but I couldn’t help but wonder what excuse Knox would give that we were staying around town for a bit if we’d all but proven our case that Gracie Lynn didn’t murder Edgar Booneville.

  Oh, look. It’s the alien hunter, and he brought with him the local fortune teller. She does look a bit worse for wear after being questioned for a couple of hours, doesn’t she?

  Knox passed Orwin, the two stopping briefly to speak with one another. Gracie Lynn remained by Orwin’s side, her hair a bit frizzier than it was the last time I saw at the café this morning. Her gaze had landed on us, which meant that Orwin had told her something about the reason we were in town.

  “You don’t think…” Piper’s voice trailed off as Knox finally left and Orwin once again began to make his way to the back of the diner with Gracie Lynn in tow. Piper turned in her seat so that she was once again facing me. “He wouldn’t have told her the truth about us, right?”

  Our alien hunter might think outside of the box, but there is no one more fiercely protective of our kind than him. Just look at the lengths he’s going to in order to locate those little green visitors.

  “No,” I replied without missing a beat, while agreeing with Pearl. “Not a chance, so we need to let him do the talking first.”

  “Hey,” Orwin greeted us, his nose a bit red from the cold outdoors. He did a double take when he looked at me, but that was probably because my cheek still held a tint of rouge from the snowball. “I don’t want to know, do I?”

  I will tell you all the details over a proper spot of warm cream after we solve this murder mystery, alien hunter. It was quite entertaining.

  “Actually,” Piper began with a smile until I arched my brow. She laughed before greeting Gracie Lynn. “Hi, there. My name’s Piper. This is Lou. We met earlier at the café.”

  “Here you go,” Orwin said, pulling out a chair for Gracie Lynn so that she was sitting next to Piper. He took the seat that Knox had just vacated. “Can we get you some coffee, a soft drink, water? Are you hungry?”

  “I’ll take a cup of chamomile tea, please,” Gracie Lynn responded after clearing her throat. “I need something to take the edge off, but I couldn’t eat a thing after that horrible experience.”

  Clearly, my idea of taking the edge of with a glass or two of wine was completely different than Gracie Lynn’s remedy.

  Actually, I prefer the minty herb for those stressful times, though I try not to overindulge.

  “I explained to Gracie Lynn that we’re friends with Edgar Booneville’s niece, but that we believe the police are looking in the wrong direction,” Orwin said, having already shed his winter coat and rolled up the sleeves on his sweatshirt so that he could enjoy his lunch. Considering the running around he’d been doing, I was thinking we should have ordered him an extra side of fries. “She also knows that we’re private investigators of sorts.”

  Private investigators? What was our alien hunter thinking with that cover story? Do we look like we live out of a…never mind. I’m rather impressed with Mr. Cornelia’s quick thinking.

  “I can’t thank you enough for believing in my innocence,” Gracie Lynn said with relief after Orwin had flagged down the waitress and placed her tea order. “I know there are some residents in this town who are skeptical of my abilities, but it’s not right that they are fearful of my talent.”

  I haven’t sharpened my claws recently, dear hexed one, and I’m certainly getting the itch to do so now.

  Piper had a frown on her face that told me she was currently scolding her familiar for even having such thoughts. I couldn’t reprimand Pearl when I had the same inclination to use my own ability to knock the woman out of her chair.

  “You give people hope, Gracie Lynn,” Orwin said in defense of the fortune teller, surprising all of us. “Your clients come to you for guidance, and you give it to them. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

  Mr. Cornelia would like us to know that the local fortune teller is very cautious with her words, and that she actually uses a very specific train of chinwag to dole out information. Such as the flash sale at Go Out In Style. The boutique owner’s mother is actually a regular client of Miss Hauver.

  It made sense that Gracie Lynn would utilize the information she gleaned from her customers as a way of procuring people’s beliefs in her fortunetelling abilities. Those bits of information gave her more credence and caused the doubters amongst the community to give her a wide berth.

  “Why don’t the two of you catch us up on what happened at the station,” I suggested, lifting the glass of water the waitress had put on the table alongside my coffee. “The detectives obviously didn’t have enough evidence to hold you.”

  “Detective Hadden was really focused on my argument with Edgar,” Gracie Lynn replied, patting the frizz in her hair in a nervous gesture. I personally had never been on the receiving end of a police interrogation, but I wouldn’t imagine the experience to be pleasant. “I explained over and over that I’d been upset about the contract, and even more so because Edgar wouldn’t look for a loophole to keep me in a space I’d rented for the last three years. Edgar always found loopholes.”

  “Do you believe Mr. Booneville didn’t want to find a loophole?” Piper inquired, asking the very same question that had popped into our minds.

  “Let’s just say that Norma isn’t my number one fan,” Gracie Lynn said wryly, dropping her hand into her lap. The clinking of her bracelets caught the attention of several patrons nearby. “I’m not sure Edgar even looked at my lease agreement.”

  “You should have someone else look at the terms of agreement then, especially since you only have two weeks left on your lease.” I debated on whether or not to tell her that Roy had let himself into her shop, but he was the landlord. He had every reason to be in
side, checking on things. My bet was that he’d been there to see if she was packing up her stuff. “Since you know that we’re investigating Edgar’s death, is there anything you can tell us that will help our investigation? Maybe you overheard someone say that he or she wanted to get back at the Boonevilles?”

  Well worded, dear hexed one. Your inquiry includes Mrs. Booneville, whom we are now assuming was the intended victim.

  “I only heard about Debbie Wilkes being upset that Norma didn’t want to put their partnership in writing,” Gracie Lynn said with a small shrug. Her tea was nowhere in sight. “I don’t think Debbie or Roger would go so far as to actually murder someone. The Boonevilles and the Wilkes have been friends for years. Debbie went to work for Norma many years ago, and it wasn’t until recently that Debbie wanted more of a stake in the knitting shop. After all, she’d been the one putting more hours in recently, allowing Norma to get things ready for Edgar’s retirement. She was even planning a retirement party for him on New Year’s Eve.”

  Very sad. Very sad, indeed.

  “Do you have any customers who attend the bridge game on Thursday night?” Orwin asked, probably because he’d picked something up in Gracie Lynn’s thoughts. A sneeze caught him off guard. “Did anyone else have a problem with the Boonevilles? Was anything mentioned in one of your sessions?”

  “My sessions are private,” Gracie Lynn said defensively, clearly offended that we would ask such a thing.

  Yet the local fortuneteller utilizes the very same information to make others believe she is truly a psychic. Opposing morals, wouldn’t you agree, dear hexed one?

  I caught sight of the waitress carrying a tray that held Gracie Lynn’s tea and discreetly held up a hand so that no one said something that could be spread around town. It was bad enough that Gracie Lynn thought we were private investigators, but anyone else believing that fabrication would have others cautious about their words.

  We all fell quiet until the waitress had set the chamomile tea on the table. Once we answered her question regarding us needing anything more, she made her way over to an older couple who’d been arguing this entire time about how much money to spend on their grandchildren this holiday season.