Witch Is When I Said Goodbye (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 10) (14 page)

“That’s good. We’d hate to lose out to someone else.”

“That would be horrible,” I agreed. “Look, I’ve got to dash. Things to do. I promised Barry I’d take him for a walk. I’ll see you both soon.”

“Okay, and please don’t tell Amber, will you? Or Mum. Don’t tell anyone.”

“My lips are sealed.” I ran my fingers across my lips and zipped them closed.

Oh dear. This wasn’t going to end well.

Chapter 16

I had a hunch, but it was a long shot; a really long shot. And, I didn’t want to show my hand until I was sure. I still had the list of names and contact details for all the people who had been in Coffee Triangle that day. The police had spoken to everyone on the list, but most of them hadn’t been able to help because they weren’t anywhere near the incident.

It took me the best part of three hours to call everyone on the list—I had just one question for them all. Even though there were a few people I didn’t manage to get hold of, it didn’t matter because I was able to identify thirty people who’d had a drum at the moment when the murder victim was found. The assistant manager at Coffee Triangle had told me there were thirty of each of the instruments, which meant that at the moment the murder victim was found, every drum in the shop was accounted for. So, if thirty customers had drums, where had the manager got his from? And where was he when the victim was discovered? According to the assistant manager, his boss had been on the shop floor, playing his drum for most of the day. And yet, when the body was discovered, the assistant manager was forced to step in because the manager couldn’t be found.

Where had he gone?

Tony Tuck owed money to the murdered man, and payment was long overdue. From all accounts, Joe Snow wasn’t the kind of man you wanted to cross. So, why had Joe Snow been in Coffee Triangle that day? Was he there to collect his money? Was he there to intimidate Tuck? Or had the situation moved beyond intimidation? Was Snow there to deal out some kind of punishment? It was unlikely to have been a social call.

Maybe the manager had feared for his life, and decided to get in first. He certainly had the motive, but if he was the killer, the big question was how did he do it? No one had seen or heard the gunshot, and although the police had searched the premises, no murder weapon had been found. All my instincts told me that if I could find the weapon, everything else would fall into place.

Easier said than done.

***

I needed to clear my head and stop obsessing over the Coffee Triangle case, so I magicked myself over to Candlefield.

Amber had gone out to visit one of the cake suppliers.

“Hey, Jill.” Pearl greeted me. “I have news.”

“What’s that?”

“You won’t tell Amber, will you?”

“No. I promise.”

“You know we were looking around that house the other day?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know we said we might make an offer on it?”

“I remember.”

“Well, we did. And we should hear back sometime today. With a bit of luck, Alan and I could soon have our very own house. I’ll be able to move out and leave Amber behind.”

“Did the estate agent say that you were in with a good chance?”

“They were being a bit cagey, but we think so. They said at least two other couples had shown an interest, but we were the first to put in an offer. So now we’re just waiting to hear if the seller has accepted it. I’m really excited. I can’t wait to have our own place. I know exactly how we’ll decorate it. We’re going to paint it yellow throughout.”

“Every room?”

“Yeah, I like yellow. And we’ll have a nice blue carpet in the living room, and a yellow and blue corner sofa.”

“Hmm? A lot of yellow and blue then?”

“Yeah. We might have to wait a while for the rest of the furniture because we won’t have a lot of money left after we’ve paid the deposit for the house.”

Later, when Amber got back, she joined me behind the counter while Pearl went on her break.

“Hey, Jill. I have something to tell you, but you mustn’t tell anyone; particularly not Pearl.”

I had a horrible feeling I knew what was coming.

“Sure, what is it?”

“You know the house that William and me have been looking at?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we decided to put in an offer.”

“You did? Have you heard back yet?”

“No, but the estate agent said they’d contact us today. I’m expecting a phone call anytime, so fingers crossed. I can’t wait to get out of this place, and away from Pearl. We already know exactly how we’ll decorate it.”

“Let me guess. You’re going to paint it yellow throughout?”

“No. Why would we do that? We’re going to paint it blue throughout.”

“Blue? Right.”

“And we’re going to have a yellow carpet in the living room.”

“And a yellow and blue sofa?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a lucky guess.”

“That’s all the furniture we’ll be able to afford to begin with because we won’t have much money left after we’ve paid the deposit for the house.”

About an hour later, Pearl, Amber and I were sitting at a window table. Somebody had forced me to have a blueberry muffin. We hadn’t been there for more than a few minutes when a phone rang, and then another phone rang. Pearl and Amber both jumped up from their seats, and dashed to opposite sides of the room. I glanced back and forth between the two of them, wondering which one of them had got the house. But when they’d finished on their calls, and returned to the table, they both had long faces.

“Everything okay?” I said.

“Fine.” Amber sighed.

“Just great.” Pearl frowned.

Later on, I caught up with Amber when she was by herself. “I guess that was bad news on the house front?”

“Yeah, somebody put in a better offer. It’s been sold.”

“Oh well, never mind. There’ll be plenty more.”

“I guess so. But we had our heart set on that one.”

I had the same conversation with Pearl ten minutes later. Little did they know, they’d both put in a bid for the same house. In a way, this was the best possible outcome. Someone else had bought the house. If Amber had got it, Pearl would have gone ballistic. If Pearl had got it, Amber would have killed her. And I would have been stuck in the middle of it all.

The atmosphere in the shop over the next couple of hours wasn’t great. Neither Amber nor Pearl was in the mood for talking. Ironically, I was the only one who knew why both of them were so downcast. Amber had a go at Pearl for being moody. Pearl accused Amber of being a misery guts.

“What are those two up to over there?” Pearl said.

Amber and I both followed her gaze.

“What on earth are they doing?” Amber had her nose pressed to the window.

It was Miles Best and Mindy Lowe.

“It looks like they’re dancing.” Pearl shook her head. “Knowing their luck, they’ve probably won the lottery.”

I was intrigued. So much so, that I volunteered to go over the road to find out what was happening.

“Hello, Jill!” Miles shouted when he saw me.

“What’s going on? Have you managed to shut down another cake shop with your rats?”

“That was only a bit of fun. You and the twins really shouldn’t take things so seriously.”

I was
so
tempted to slap the smile off his face.

“So why are you dancing in the street?”

He couldn’t wait to tell me.

“So?” Amber said when I walked back into Cuppy C. “What are they up to?”

“Have they won the lottery?” Pearl was still staring at the crazy, dancing couple.

“It’s nothing.” I shrugged.

“It must be something.” Amber insisted. “They wouldn’t be dancing in the street like lunatics for no reason.”

“Honestly, it’s nothing.”

“Jill!” Pearl glared at me. “Tell us.”

“Well if you must know. They’ve just found out that the offer they put in on a house has been accepted.”

All three of us knew which house it was.

***

There was nothing I could say which would make the twins feel any better, so I waited until the shop was quiet, said my goodbyes, and headed back to Washbridge.

When I got to the office, Mrs V was standing behind her desk. There was a large box in front of her, and she appeared to be emptying her drawers.

“Mrs V, what’s going on?”

“As if you care.”

Her reaction completely floored me.

“What do you mean?”

“I resign.”

“Resign? But why?”

“I thought I could trust you, Jill. I thought you were my friend.”

“I
am
your friend. And, of course you can trust me. What’s happened?”

She took a deep breath. I could tell she was barely holding back the tears.

“I’m under investigation by the local chapter of the Yarnies.”

“Under investigation? Whatever for?”

“Someone told them—” She had to take a deep breath to get the words out. “Someone told them that I’ve been crocheting.”

I laughed, but immediately realised that was the wrong reaction. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s not funny. It’s not funny at all. I don’t understand why you would tell someone.”

“Me? I haven’t told anyone. You asked me not to say anything, and I haven’t.”

“Who else could it have been?”

“I don’t know, but it definitely wasn’t me. Please don’t leave, Mrs V. We’ve been together for so long. You have to believe me. I haven’t told anyone. At least let me investigate, and try to get to the bottom of it.”

She hesitated. “I suppose I owe you that much.”

“So, you’ll stay?”

“Yes, but only if you promise to find out who did it.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find out.”

If Winky was responsible for this, I would kill him. Slowly and very painfully.

He was on the sofa.

“How could you do it?”

He looked confused. “How could I do what?”

“You told someone about Mrs V crocheting.”

“Do me a favour. I have much better things to do with my time than worry about the old bag lady, and what kind of needles she’s using.”

“You said you were going to post it on FelineSocial.”

“I was only kidding. I wouldn’t waste my time.”

“I don’t believe you.” I grabbed his phone.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? That’s private.”

“I don’t care.”

I soon found the FelineSocial app, and clicked on it.

“Hey, do you mind? Stop reading my personal stuff.”

I scrolled all the way down. There was no mention of Mrs V or crocheting.

“Now do you believe me?” he said, as indignantly as he could.

“Yeah. Here.” I passed him the phone.

“No apology then?”

“I’m sorry.”

“That hardly covers it. Still, there is one way you can make it up to me.”

“Salmon?”

“Red not pink, obviously.”

Chapter 17

“What exactly is it I’m paying you for?” Grandma had just burst into my office—leaving Mrs V in her wake. “There isn’t much sign of you finding out who the Coffee Triangle murderer is.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re categorising your rubber bands. How much is that costing me?”

I opened the top drawer of my desk, and swept the rubber bands inside.

“They help me to think.”

“Oh, well that’s okay then. I don’t mind paying you to play with your rubber bands just as long as it helps you to think.”

“I’ve told you I’m working on the case. I expect to have a result soon.”

“You’d better have.” And with that she left.

No pressure then.

The Coffee Triangle case was really beginning to bug me, and not just because I had Grandma on my back. I was missing something obvious, but what? It was too much of a coincidence that the victim, Joe Snow, just happened to be in the shop. Tony Tuck had owed him money, and my gut feeling was that Snow had been there to collect. Either his money or his pound of flesh. Tuck must have known he was in trouble, and decided to get in first.

But how had he done it? It was obvious why no one had heard the gunshot, but why had no one seen him with a gun, and where was the murder weapon now? I knew from what his assistant had told me, that the manager had gone AWOL for a few minutes around the time the victim was found. I definitely wasn’t going to find the gun sitting at my desk, so I made my way down to Coffee Triangle.

If my hunch about Tuck was correct, he couldn’t have gone far in such a short period of time. At the back of the building was a high wall, but that didn’t pose an obstacle; I simply levitated over it. I was really getting the hang of levitation now.

There was very little to see in the yard behind Coffee Triangle, but I did notice that the area was shared by three adjoining shops. All of them had back doors which opened onto the yard. Tuck would have had time to come out of Coffee Triangle, and nip into one of those, but which one?

Then it struck me. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? Two doors down from Coffee Triangle was Tom Tom Music—where Mikey had spent an hour playing on their drum kits. Where better to hide a drum than in plain sight in a music shop?

But I still had to find it.

I made my way back to the front of the building. The music shop was deserted except for the two men behind the counter.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning.” The taller of the two men flashed me a smile. He had a gold front tooth. “Weren’t you in here the other day?”

“Yeah. With my young nephew.” I walked over to the counter.

“That’s right. I remember now. Quite the budding drummer. I’m Tom.”

“Jill. Pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Tom two.” The second man had a tattoo of a cow playing a banjo on his upper arm.

“Tom and Tom? Doesn’t that get confusing?”

“Not really. He’s Tom, and I’m Tom Number Two.”

“Ah, right. Tom
Two
. I thought you said Tom
too
.”

They both looked confused now.

“So, did your nephew find a drum kit he liked?” Tom Two said.

“He liked them all. He’s hoping to get one for his birthday.”

“He’s welcome to come down and try them out any time.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell his mum.” She’ll be so pleased.

“What brings you here today?” Tom asked. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

“I’m a private investigator. I assume you heard about the murder at the coffee shop a couple of doors away.”

“Terrible business,” Tom said. “On a purely selfish note, I hope it doesn’t damage their business long term.”

“Selfish how?”

“That shop has been really good for us. They buy all their instruments from here.”

“You’ll know Tony Tuck, then?”

“Yeah. He’s always in here. Those instruments take some hammer.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. So, I assume he comes in quite often to order new ones?”

“Yeah. Plus, he leaves all the damaged ones with us. We’re able to repair some of them.”

“Where do you keep the damaged instruments he brings in?”

“There’s a storeroom over there.” Tom pointed. “Tony brings them through the door from the common yard at the back.”

“Can I take a look?”

“Sure. Knock yourself out.”

The store room was a mess. There were damaged instruments of every kind scattered all over the floor—this was going to take a while. I had to approach it logically, so I started from the left hand side of the room, checking each drum I came across. I was about two thirds of the way through them when I spotted a drum with a tear in its skin.

Just as I’d suspected, there was something inside it.

***

Tony Tuck wouldn’t be back from Vegas for at least another day. In the meantime, I had to make good on my promise to find out who’d let Mrs V’s secret out of the bag.

One of Armitage’s people, maybe? But how would they have known? Mrs V definitely wouldn’t have taken out her crochet while they were there. Someone must have been through her drawers, but who else had access to her desk?

And then it struck me! Of course!

I gave Kathy a call, and just as I hoped, she had the address I needed.

Doreen Daggers greeted me with a smile.

“Jill. Do come in. How did you know where I lived?”

“My sister, Kathy, found your address in the Ever members’ database. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. It’s lovely to see you. I don’t get many visitors.”

I followed her through to the lounge.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“No thanks, Doreen. Look, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“I think I know what it is. Me and my big mouth. I just don’t know when to keep quiet.”

“You told the Yarnies about Mrs V’s crochet?”

“Not intentionally. I spotted it when I was looking for a tissue in V’s desk. It didn’t bother me at all. I’ve never understood why there’s so much animosity between the knitters and the crocheters. But like an idiot, I let it slip in front of Phyllis Cartwright, Vice President of the local Yarnies. I could have kicked myself. As soon as I’d said it, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Annabel. She’s been such a good friend to me over the years. I suppose you’ll have to tell her now though.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I will need Phyllis Cartwright’s address.”

I arrived on Phyllis Cartwright’s doorstep unannounced. She was all doilies and lace curtains.

“Yes? Who are you?” she said, while trying not to swallow the plum in her mouth.

“I’m Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator. I believe you know my P.A, Annabel Versailles?”

“Yes, I know Annabel. Now, what can I do for you, young lady?”

“It’s more a case of what I can do for you. I’m here to save you from embarrassing yourself. May I come in?” I didn’t wait for a reply; I just stepped inside.

“What do you mean? Why would I embarrass myself? Why exactly are you here, Miss Gooder?”

I put my bag on the coffee table, and took from it first a small trophy, and then a framed photo. “Please take a close look at these.”

She picked up the cup and read the inscription, and then checked the caption on the photo.

“
You’re
the regional crochet champion?”

“Third year in a row, actually. So, you see, I keep crochet all over my office, including some in Mrs V’s desk. She doesn’t like it, but she’s my employee, so she has to put up with it. Now, from what she tells me, you’ve accused her of being in possession of crochet.”

“That was the information I was given.” Her air of confidence had evaporated.

“Well, it seems you were misled, and if you insist on pursuing this, I’ll be forced to come forward to clarify matters. I don’t think that would look very good for you.”

“There’s no need for that. Now I’ve been made aware of the situation, no further action will be taken, obviously.”

“I knew you would see sense.”

“Thank you so much, Jill,” Mrs V said. She was full of smiles when I got back to the office. “The Yarnies Vice President just phoned to say that they won’t be pursuing the crochet incident.”

“That’s great.”

“I’m very sorry I doubted you.”

“Don’t give it a second thought.”

“Doreen called earlier too. She told me that she was the one who had let it slip.”

“I hope you weren’t too hard on her.”

“Of course not. She and I go way back. I know she wouldn’t have done it maliciously. All’s well that ends well. Oh, and by the way, Jill, you must show me your crochet trophies sometime.”

***

Thank goodness I’d persuaded Mrs V to stay. Even though she did very little ‘real’ work, the office simply wouldn’t have been the same without her. To reward myself for a job well done, I decided coffee and a blueberry muffin were in order. Coffee Triangle was still closed, so I tried another coffee shop—one I hadn’t been in before: Beans.

As soon as I walked through the door, I realised that I’d been wrong when I’d assumed the shop’s name referred to coffee
beans
.

“Yes, madam.” A bubbly, young woman behind the counter greeted me. She had a fringe which made her look a little like an Old English Sheepdog. “What can I get for you?”

“A regular latte, please. And a muffin of the blueberry persuasion, I think.”

I was still trying to figure out how I was going to balance the latte while sitting on one of the dozens of bean bags spread across the floor.

“Jill!” someone called.

It was Hilary; one of the girls from Love Spell.

“Come and join me.” She patted the bean bag next to hers.

I somehow managed to lower myself onto the red and white striped bean bag without spilling my drink.

“Do you come in here often?” I said.

“This is only my second time. I usually go to Coffee Triangle.”

“Me too. I miss the tambourines.”

“Still they do have bean bags here. Lots of them.”

“Is it just me or is this a weird idea?”

“It’s totally weird. I’ve seen three people spill their drinks in the last twenty minutes.”

“How’s the dating business?”

“Going from strength to strength. We can’t find enough human men to keep up with demand.”

“Mr Ivers doesn’t seem to be having much luck.”

“No, we’re still trying to find him a match, but we get the same feedback from every witch he dates.”

“Too boring?”

“Got it in one.”

Just then, someone pulled up a bean bag next to ours. It was Jim Keeper, the Grim Reaper. Instinctively, both Hilary and I made to stand up.

“Don’t leave ladies, please. Just give me a moment.”

Hilary and I exchanged a worried look.

“I’m not on duty,” he said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“What do you want, Jim?” I asked.

“Just some advice. It was actually you I wanted to see, Hilary.”

“In that case I’ll be off,” I said.

“No!” Hilary grabbed my arm. “Please stay, Jill.” I could see the terror in her eyes.

“Okay then.”

“Look, ladies,” Jim said. “You know I’ve been having a lot of difficulty with finding a partner.” He turned to me. “
You
dumped me after just one date.”

What could I say? It was true.

“And you, Hilary.
You
threw me off your books.”

“We only allow human men to register.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m used to it. No one wants to know a Grim Reaper. I feel like we’ve had some bad press.”

“What was it you wanted to see me about?” Hilary sounded nervous.

“It suddenly occurred to me that I can’t be the only Reaper with this problem. So I got to thinking. Why don’t I start my own dating agency—just for Reapers? I could call it Grim Cupid or Love you to Death.”

“I think you’ll need to work on the name,” I said.

“You could be right. Anyway, Hilary, I was hoping you might give me some advice, based on your experience. You know: tips, pitfalls to watch out for; that kind of thing.”

“Sure. Why not?” Hilary seemed to have relaxed a little.

“Right,” I struggled to my feet. “I really do have to go now. Good luck with your new venture, Jim.”

When I reached the door, I turned back to them. “How about ‘Reap the Love’?”