Some Like It Witchy (15 page)

“Y
ou wouldn't do well in prison,” Cherise was saying to Ve as I stood at the top of the stairs, eavesdropping.

“And I'd hate to have to arrest you,” Nick said. “I don't think Darcy would forgive me.”

“It could be cool, though,” Harper said. “A look at the big house from the inside.”

There was a stretch of silence, and I imagined them all staring at her.

“Orange is not your color, Velma,” Godfrey finally said.

“Fine, fine!” Ve said begrudgingly. “I won't kill her.”

Fresh from a shower, I rubbed my wet hair with a towel as I listened to the conversation in the kitchen.

Family.

Tilda glanced up at me and flicked an ear. I bent and scratched her chin, and she pressed her face against my hand and purred the barest of purrs.

She had her moments.

“Can I just hurt her a little?” Ve asked timidly. “A slap? Maybe two?”

“Assault,” Nick said simply. “If she presses charges, I'd still have to arrest you.”

“You'll still have the issue with the orange, even in the local lockup,” Godfrey said.

“Yeah,” Harper added, “and the local jail is way less interesting than the state pen.”

Another stretch of silence.

Cherise said, “I've already placed a rush order for more signs. They'll be ready by noon. This is but a blip,” she said. “Don't give Dorothy the satisfaction of knowing she got under your skin.”

I thought it a little late for that, considering the show Ve put on for the village this morning.

“I suppose,” Ve grumbled, “that I should be grateful she didn't try to burn down the house. Again.”

True. Very true.

I quickly dressed, blow-dried my hair, and headed downstairs. Godfrey had gone, but Nick and Harper sat at the breakfast bar while Cherise made pancakes and bacon. The combo might be better than a serenity spell for Ve. It was her favorite breakfast.

“I think we've talked Ve off the ledge,” Cherise said, glancing over her shoulder at me.

Ve poured me a cup of coffee and handed it over. “Do not be fooled. I'm still tottering. If Dorothy knows what's best, she'll keep her distance today.” She jabbed her hands like she was boxing.

I thanked Ve for the coffee and asked Cherise if she needed any help.

“Got it covered. Have a seat,” she said.

I kissed Nick's cheek and sat next to him. “How was Mimi this morning?”

“Fine,” he said, sipping coffee. “Back to her usual self.”

For how long? I wondered. Until the next time she ran into Glinda?

“Ve told me what happened,” Cherise said. “I think time is the best option.”

Nick lifted his eyebrows at me but didn't actually voice an “I told you so.”

Ve set out plates. “I agree.”

I wished I did.

“She's finding her way,” Cherise went on. “Each time she sees Glinda, it will get easier to walk away.”

“I hope you're right,” Nick said.

Cherise laughed. “I'm always right.”

Harper leaned forward and said to me, “While you were upstairs Nick told us that Andreus was bonded out of jail.”

“What was his excuse for breaking in?” I asked. “Did he have one?”

“Said he had a little too much to drink and accidentally went into the wrong house,” Nick said, smirking. “The lock on the back door had been picked.”

“Did he really think you'd buy that excuse?” Cherise asked.

“No”—Nick sipped from his mug of coffee—“but he couldn't exactly say why he'd really been in there, could he?”

“He's just going to do it again,” Harper said. “Until he finds those diamonds.”

He did have a history of breaking into homes looking for gems—he'd done it while looking for the amulet that granted wishes.

I set my coffee cup down. “Well, he now has serious competition.” I told them all about the conversation I'd had with Calliope and her theory that a treasure hunter had bought the house. I also told them how she'd had a meeting with Kent this morning.

“What kind of proposal does Kent want to talk to her about?” Harper asked.

I said, “Calliope made it sound like a business proposal.”

“Right.” Harper snorted.

“So that's that,” Cherise said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “The house is sold.”

I felt her pain. “Calliope did mention that she'd be happy to show you the Maypole house again.”

“We'll see,” she said dejectedly. “I'd had my heart set on that house.”

Ve glanced at me and winked. “Don't dwell, Cherise. Something good will come along soon. Perhaps an even better location.”

I smiled behind my cup. Like Terry's house.

Nick's phone rang and he excused himself to take it outside. Harper took the opportunity to steal his seat. “Here,” she said, sliding a folder over to me.

“What's this?”

“Consider it an early Christmas gift.”

The mention of Christmas made me think of the drawing I was working on. Suddenly, butterflies filled my stomach. I hoped she liked it. No. I hope she loved it.

I opened the folder and gasped. “How did you get these?”

She beamed. “Dating a Lawcrafter comes in handy sometimes. He's got this really cool database . . . Bing, bang, boom he faxed them to me.”

“What is it?” Ve asked, craning her neck.

“Vital records,” I said, quickly riffling through the pile. Certificates of every kind. “Andreus's birth certificate. His mother's. His father's. Andreus's marriage certificate, his parents'. Death certificates for Sebastian and Zara.”

Ve said, “Have mercy! So she has passed on?”

I glanced at the date. “A few years ago. Sixty-nine years old. Manner of death was natural causes.”

“So young,” Cherise said, setting pancakes on a plate.

“I wish I knew if she'd been that tipster,” I said, knowing fully well no one here could actually grant the request. Unfortunately.

“Who else would it be?” Harper asked. “She seems the likely suspect.”

“I agree, but I'm struggling with how she would have even known about the heist. She'd been gone from the village for a while at that point.”

“Perhaps she heard something through Andreus,” Ve said. “It wouldn't surprise me if he knew what his father had planned.”

It was an interesting theory. “Did Zara remarry?” I asked Harper as I skimmed the records. “Did you find a marriage certificate for that?”

“I looked. I didn't find one.”

Her death certificate listed an address in Plymouth. Maybe I could go talk to her old neighbors . . .

And say what? I asked myself. It wasn't likely they'd know anything about the heist—if Zara had even lived at that address back then.

A dead end.

I shivered.

“Since we know Zara is dead,” I said, “maybe Andreus did inherit her belongings, including the Myrian charm. It's the only explanation of why Raina had it—he sold it to her.”

“Or,” Harper theorized, “it was in exchange for something to do with the Tavistock house. Perhaps, she leaked confidential info to him. Like how high the highest bid was . . . If so, that plan was an epic failure.”

If she'd been eager to have a child, then I wouldn't put anything past her. And it would explain why Andreus had been careless enough to break into the house. He was getting desperate, worried that he wouldn't be able to buy the house now that his inside source was gone.

“I hope Raina didn't pay much for the amulet,” Cherise said.

“Why?” Ve asked.

“Because if she was hoping to have a child with Kent, she was out of luck. He had a vasectomy about six months ago. Snip. Snip. The Myrian is powerful, but it's not that powerful.”

I didn't question how Cherise knew this information. I was just glad she did. “Wouldn't Raina have known that he'd had surgery?”

“Not necessarily,” Cherise said. “I've known plenty of men who've secretly gotten snipped. The most common reason is that the spouse wants more kids, but he doesn't want
the responsibility of more mouths to feed.” She added, “Those relationships don't usually stand the test of time.”

No kidding. If he could lie about that kind of thing, then he was bound to lie about other stuff as well. Like a mistress.

Harper said, “Maybe that's what Raina was referring to in that fight when she said he'd made a lot of decisions without her.”

I didn't think that's what she'd been talking about. Or else she wouldn't have still been wearing the Myrian. More likely, it had been all the business decisions he'd been making without her input.

“Thanks for these records,” I said to Harper, trying to give her a hug.

She playfully pushed me away. “Stop that! And you're welcome.”

“Where does this leave you, Darcy?” Ve asked, leaning against the counter, fork in one hand, her plate in the other. “Who are your suspects in Raina's death?”

I took a bite of bacon. “I've only ruled out Kent at this point, because he had an alibi. He was showing a house.” Nick had finally confirmed it. “So, there's still Calliope, Noelle, and of course, Andreus.”

Ve shook her head. “I don't think he did it.”

“Why?” I asked.

“He's a lover, not a fighter.”

“Ew,” Harper and I said at the same time.

Cherise laughed. “It's true. Besides, he doesn't like messiness. If he'd killed her, it wouldn't have been so bloody. He would have strangled her.”

At the mention of blood, I pushed my plate away, my appetite gone.

“Cherise has a point. He did get all squeamish with the drool last night,” Harper said, drowning her pancakes in syrup.

Apparently, talk of blood and death only boosted her appetite. “Glinda thinks he's being framed.”

“Me, too,” Ve said.

“Me three,” Cherise added.

I glanced at Harper.

She swallowed. “Me four.”

“But he doesn't have an alibi. Not one he'll share, at least,” I said.

“Everybody has secrets,” Cherise said, color rising to her cheeks.

Ve glanced at her, a small smile on her face. “That's very true.”

Nick came back in, and Ve immediately handed him a plate. “Thanks,” he said, sitting next to Harper. If he noticed she'd stolen his seat, he didn't say so.

Harper motioned to the phone in his hand. “Something good? Another break-in?”

Her definition of “good” was definitely out of whack.

“The ME's office,” he said. “Preliminary report is in, and it looks like someone is trying to frame Andreus.”

Three sets of eyes settled on me. I laughed.

Nick lifted an eyebrow in question.

“Him being framed seems to be the general consensus around here,” I explained. “What makes
you
say so?”

“The blood on Raina's finger? The finger she supposedly wrote the letter
A
with?” he said, stuffing a bite of pancake
in his mouth. “Well, it was on her right hand. Raina was left-handed.”

Apparently I was the only one who couldn't eat and discuss such things. “It seems to me that anyone who knew her well would know that.”

“Like Calliope,” Ve added, waving her fork.

“So that just leaves Noelle as a prime suspect,” Cherise said as she poured another cup of coffee.

I wasn't really ready to rule anyone out. I'd been fooled by killers before. Plus, if Raina had surprised an intruder, that person might have been in a rush and careless about such details.

Nick added, “Nothing else stood out in the autopsy. The blow to her head will be the cause of death, pending tox results.”

Ve said, “Have mercy.”

I stood up and gathered dirty dishes, carrying them to the sink to wash. I hoped Raina hadn't suffered at all. That she didn't even grasp what was happening. That she'd never known what a rat-toad her husband had been.

Cherise said, “You know, I've been thinking, Darcy.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“About that house on Maypole.”

I turned to face her. “You want to take another look? I can call Calliope. . . .” After all, Cherise had hired me to help her find a house, and I wanted to see that task through.

“No, no,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “I think we should make an appointment with
Noelle
, don't you? See what we can wheedle out of her?”

Harper said, “Good idea!”

“Great idea,” Nick added, “but I get first dibs. She's coming in for an interview this morning with her lawyer.”

Cherise tipped her head. “Then I'll make an appointment for this afternoon. Good with you, Darcy?”

I smiled. It seemed Cherise was still vying for the role of
sidekick. “Only if you promise not to wear the leather jumpsuit.”

Ve coughed and said, “The leather
what
?”

Cherise lifted her chin imperiously. “I'll promise no such thing.”

Shaking my head, I looked for Missy to give her a tiny scrap of bacon—one of her favorites. She wasn't in her dog bed. “Where's Missy? Outside?”

“I didn't see her when I was out there,” Nick said.

I groaned. “Scott Whiting strikes again.”

“What's he have to do with Missy?” Harper asked.

“She has a crush on him,” I said.

Ve fanned her face. “Who doesn't?”

Cherise shot her a curious look. Ve smiled sweetly.

The phone rang and Harper jumped up to get it. “The loony bin, Harper speaking. . . . Oh hey, Evan. . . . Sure. Hold on.” Harper carried the handset over to me. “For you.”

I wiped my hands and took it. “Hello?”

“Darcy,” Evan said tightly.

“What's wrong?” I asked. I heard the buzzing of an oven timer and murmured voices in the background. Bakery noises.