Broomstick Blend Read online

  Liam gracefully merged his truck onto the highway, leaving me to wonder where the broomstick fit into this murder mystery.

  It could just be a coinkydink. That would be in our favor, you know what I mean?

  “You mean coincidence,” I corrected while still wondering about the list of herbal plants that could be used to poison a person. “Did Jack ever find out why Sheriff O’Leary had that list of herbal poisons in his hand?”

  You really need to brush up on your urban dictionary, Raven. A coinkydink is a coincidence. It’s just the new hip way of saying it. Get with the program, square.

  “Jack is going over open cases with Deputy Wilson, hoping one sheds some light on where Sheriff O’Leary may have come up with that list.” Liam thinned his lips as he set the speed control to a few miles above the posted sign. “If it turns out there was a death recently where the sheriff suspected poison, it’s a safe bet that his own murder is tied to that case.”

  That would leave witchcraft off the weapon list, as well as your mother getting her research wrong all those years ago. A double win for our team. With this cool air blowing in my face, I’d say it’s a trifecta.

  I couldn’t help but observe the gathering storm clouds to my left. The palm of my right hand had been tingling ever since we’d started this journey north. Leo might believe that witchcraft wasn’t involved, but everything inside of me was all but screaming that the broomstick and list of herbal poisons were connected in some way.

  You’re such a buzzkill. Remind me not to take you to the track.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Okay,” Liam stated with determination after finally exiting his truck and walking around to the front where I was waiting for him. “I just got off the radio with Jack. He’s with Deputy Wilson right now. They are going over his initial statement.”

  We’d arrived at Deidre O’Leary’s residence to find quite a few vehicles in the driveway. This probably wasn’t the best time to stop in, but I was thinking like an amateur sleuth. Liam was law enforcement, and it was his job to find out who had poisoned Sheriff O’Leary.

  It could very well have been an accident. Stakeouts can be rough, all those endless hours sitting by himself in a vehicle. Who knows what he had to resort to in order to stay awake to apprehend the unsub.

  “Uh, where did Leo go?” Liam asked, seeming a bit anxious as he looked around the property. It was beautiful land, too. Sheriff O’Leary and his wife hadn’t lived in town, but rather on the outskirts. I hadn’t realized small town sheriffs made so much, because this homestead with its acres of land had to run somewhere in the seven figures. “I was going to leave the truck running with the air conditioning on while we spoke with Mrs. O’Leary.”

  I never know how to act when the good ol’ sheriff puts me above taxpayers’ expense. I’m pretty sure that means you don’t go out of your way often enough.

  “Leo is right beside us, talking like he’s in some Sam Spade novel and commenting needlessly on every little thing,” I muttered, walking by Liam’s side as we made our way toward the front door. Wraparound porches were more my thing, but this type of house wasn’t built with the country vibe in mind. The two white pillars were huge. It gave me more of the plantation vibe. “I’m wondering if I shouldn’t be the one to stay behind in the truck. How are you going to explain my presence?”

  I ask myself that very question every time you get us involved with one of these escapades.

  “Easy,” Liam responded, taking time to survey the sky above us. The storm that had been coming across the bay had no doubt already hit our town. There was a good chance we would catch the edge of the storm as it continued east. “The autopsy hasn’t been completed yet, and you’re known around Paramour Bay for your expertise in herbal extracts. I’m going to say that I brought you along as my Subject Matter Expert, better known as SME.”

  Expert might be stretching it a bit. You might want to stick to the truth about being a student of herbal supplements. Hey, do you suppose Deidre O’Leary is a witch, too? The name Deidre just conjures up some wacky spells being cast over a cauldron.

  It had crossed my mind that someone close to the sheriff might be a witch or a wizard, especially given the fact that he had the cursed broomstick in his possession.

  Just say broomstick. We don’t know if it’s actually hexed. I told you, that takes a great deal of time and effort. Your mother tried it once during her childhood, and that was an utter failure. We never covered that subject again.

  With the way this case was turning out, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to cover that lesson myself.

  “It’s not like I can go searching through the house for poisonous herbs and plants,” I whispered, afraid someone would overhear me since he’d already rang the doorbell.

  “Can’t you…” Liam tilted his head a few times to indicate witchcraft. “You know, wiggle your nose or something?”

  Does he have a facial tic? The good ol’ sheriff should really get that checked out.

  “It’s not that easy,” I managed to reply before the front door swung open.

  Jackpot.

  I recognized the blonde woman immediately as Kathleen Reynolds, the antique store owner and sister of Deidre O’Leary. We’d never met personally, as her assistant at the shop was more hands-on with the customers. I liked Lydia.

  Suspect number one. Seeing as the good ol’ sheriff is still trying to adjust to your confession and you’re stuck on some clue about a curse that might not exist, that leaves me to figure out who poisoned the neighboring sheriff. This is bound to cause my memory issues to worsen, isn’t it?

  “Liam,” Kathleen exclaimed with a mixture of relief and something else that came across as anxiety. She was quite tiny, standing probably at five feet, two inches. Her lack of height didn’t make her any less elegant. She wore a black dress with a lot of silver jewelry that was definitely from a different era. Her frown was evident when her gaze landed on me. “Raven Marigold?”

  It’s rude to keep us out here on the front porch in this heat. Did you hear that rumbling of thunder? Either that was from the storm or your mother is attempting to fix her atypical blunder when it comes to casting elemental spells. That’s a sign, you know. Your mother has only ever flubbed up casting twice by my count before she supposedly gave up the witchcraft way of life. I’d be more than happy to tell you about them, but the details escape me.

  “Hi, Kathleen,” Liam greeted the antique shop owner with a sympathetic smile. “I know we spoke at length yesterday, but I’m helping Detective Swanson with the investigation. Is it alright if we come in for a moment?”

  At least we know that Kathleen isn’t heartless the way Purple Pearl portrayed her to be this morning. She’s here with her sister, so that counts for something, right?

  “Of course, of course,” Kathleen agreed, stepping back on the marble floor. The coolness of the interior was an immediate relief, and I could hear Leo sigh with happiness when he’d followed suit. “Deidre is in the sitting room with a couple of her close friends.”

  The connotation she used on the word friends makes it sound like we’re about to venture into a pit of vipers. I might just stay right where I am…soaking up the cold from these spectacular marble tiles. Is there a reason we don’t have these at the cottage? They would have come in handy during the blackout.

  “Could we have a moment of your time before we join them?” Liam asked, waiting for Kathleen to face us. She really was a beautiful woman, and I guessed she was somewhere in her mid-fifties. “I’d like to ask you a few more questions about why Sheriff O’Leary came to see you yesterday.”

  Kathleen inhaled deeply and tilted her chin in such a fashion one would think she was getting ready to do battle. She wasn’t acting like a guilty party, but it was easy to get the sense that she was withholding information. The palm of my hand had begun to tingle more than ever since we’d been granted access to this house.

  You’re going to make me leave this wonderful foyer, aren�
��t you? This marble is so smooth and shiny and cool and…

  I shifted to the right just a bit, knowing full well that Leo had all but collapsed onto the marble. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t spent an hour inside an air-conditioned vehicle. One would think he was still back in Paramour Bay with my mother sweating out the storm.

  You need to take lessons in caretaking from the good ol’ sheriff. At least he offered to let me stay in the truck instead of…

  I could literally hear Leo sniffing the air.

  Is that catnip I smell?

  There was no question in my mind that Leo had skedaddled into the other room as fast as he could waddle, not waiting for me to direct him toward the kitchen where some poisonous herbs might be stored in the pantry. The experts always say that the spouse was usually the guilty party in these kinds of cases, so it’s a fair assumption that Deidre might very well have a motive for killing her husband—money or possibly infidelity.

  Was that chandelier made of diamonds?

  “I wasn’t at the shop yesterday when Pat paid me a visit,” Kathleen said, sticking to her original statement. “My assistant, Lydia, called me immediately when she saw all the commotion outside and realized that Pat had…”

  Kathleen cleared her throat, obviously overcome with grief.

  “Lydia told Detective Swanson that Pat stopped into the store to see if we knew anything regarding an old broomstick. Either Pat was working some kind of case or he wanted to see if the broomstick in question was an antique of sorts. Deidre collects odd knickknacks and such, though she’s usually more serious about her discoveries.” Kathleen gently wrapped her small fingers around the bracelets hanging from her wrist. “I’m not that particular. I love all things that have some history attached to them.”

  It was clear that Kathleen loved and cherished the items that came into her shop. This was usually where Leo would pipe in and claim that the least suspicious person—in this case, Kathleen—was the guilty party.

  I sure hoped Leo was somewhere in the kitchen looking for some poisonous herbs or somewhere on the property in search of a greenhouse. Catnip had a way of detouring him from his assigned tasks, much like Liam and coffee did for me.

  “Detective Swanson mentioned that Lydia told Sheriff O’Leary about a curse associated with the broomstick,” Liam prodded, giving Kathleen the impression that he wasn’t buying something like that. Oh, he was good. Really good. For reference, I was a horrible liar. “Why would Lydia have told the sheriff an old myth like that?”

  “Because it’s true, Liam,” Kathleen replied with earnest and a small smile. She waved a hand toward an ornate vase that was filled with different sized reeds on a thin table against the far wall of the foyer. “It is said that this particular antique has healing properties. The painting hanging above the vase is said to bring prosperity.”

  One out of two wasn’t too bad, but I wasn’t going to say that aloud.

  “Lydia is really into the occult, which is why we have a section of the shop for items such as tarot cards, Ouija boards, voodoo dolls, and that kind of supernatural stuff,” Kathleen responded in a manner which spoke volumes to the entrepreneur side of things.

  The interest in things that people can’t explain was like a magnet. It did make me wonder just which residents might buy into those objects, and if there were any real truth to some of the stories attached to them. It was something I’d have to run by Leo, if he ever returned from his scavenger hunt.

  “And Lydia somehow recognized the broomstick?” Liam asked, still digging for some type of answer as to how she had known about the hex. “Out of the blue?”

  Hearing about the small section of the shop that contained occult items had me wanting to peruse what content they had, with Leo by my side, of course. If there were any dangerous items on the shelves, it would be better if I could purchase them and store them away in a safe and guarded place where no would could reach them.

  “My heavens, no.” Kathleen’s light chuckle echoed around the foyer. “Lydia had to search the internet, but she finally found a paranormal phenomenon website that explained the lineage of the broomstick, although no one quite knows all the details. You see, the letter B that was branded on the handle belonged to the Barnes family. I believe they used to reside up near Windsor, but their relatives are now scattered all over the globe. Somewhere along the way a curse began to be associated with the broomstick, although there was no clear reason other than a few deaths in the Barnes descendants.”

  My mother had seemed pretty adamant about the curse, but what if the broomstick actually had simply been a chestnut handle with birch twigs on the end? At this point, I wasn’t sure about anything.

  “Do you believe the curse had anything to do with your brother-in-law’s death?” Liam continued to question Kathleen, even though Deidre had emerged from the sitting room. I’m not sure how I expected her to appear, but she seemed even more poised than her sister. Not a tear streak could be found in the woman’s makeup, and her mascara looked to have been expertly applied by an artist. “And did Sheriff O’Leary mention a list of herbs or plants to Lydia?”

  “Not that I recall,” Kathleen answered, stepping to the side so that her sister could join us. “Deidre, you remember Sheriff Liam Drake. And this is Raven Marigold. She owns the tea shop in Paramour Bay.”

  “How may we help you?” Deidre asked, not wasting any time. She had a white handkerchief in her hand with the initials RCW embroidered on one corner. “Have you or Detective Swanson found the monster who murdered my husband?”

  Wow. I’m gone for five minutes, and you’ve managed to whip the widow into a fury. Don’t let her fool you. She’s a horrible person, Raven. Horrible. You should see the pathetic generic catnip she gives her tabby. It was almost not worth consuming. I doubt it cost five cents an ounce, and these people could buy all the catnip farms in Honduras, just like I’ve always dreamed—a catnip plantation of my very own, with plenty of staff to serve my every need.

  “Detective Swanson is following up on leads as we speak, but I was hoping that we could ask you and your friends a few questions.”

  You’ll want to focus on the blonde and the brunette on the couch. While I was passing through the sitting room, they were whispering to each other something fierce. I’d hoped it was a coup against the way this redhead treats her tabby, but all I caught was something about hiding the evidence.

  Evidence? Had it been that easy to catch the killer? In this case, killers? Leo simply walking through the sitting room and accidentally hearing a confession would be a first.

  I could have hallucinated the whole thing. Who knows what they put in that generic catnip-like substance? It could be laced with something or—

  Leo’s gasp of horror was unmistakable.

  Poisoned!

  “My friends?” Deidre inquired with a rather offended expression. There wasn’t a strand of her red hair that was out of place. “Why on earth would you need to speak with my friends? I can assure you that no one in our inner circle could ever commit a crime, Sheriff Drake, let alone take my husband’s life.”

  Are you listening to me, Raven? Poison! Oh, no. I feel an asthma attack coming on. What if it’s not due to stress, and has everything to do with me ingesting poison? Tell the good ol’ sheriff that he needs to arrest this woman right now! Get her to confess so that I can die knowing justice has been served!

  Leo would continue to carry on hysterically unless I proved to him that the catnip hadn’t been laced with poison. With that said, no one would ever catch me drinking anything under this roof without solid proof that Deidre didn’t murder her husband.

  And that helps me how? I’m growing weaker by the minute, Raven.

  “It’s just standard procedure, and you never know what your husband may have said to someone in passing that could provide us useful information,” Liam explained, casting me a questioning glance when he realized that I wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation at hand. I shrugged slight
ly, so that he’d know I was speaking with Leo. “I brought Raven with me due to the herbal components that were written down on a piece of paper we found at the scene.”

  Deidre gave a rather loud sigh, as if we were bothering her when we were only trying to find out who killed her husband. One would think she would be a little more grateful. As the sheriff’s wife turned on her black heels, we slowly fell into step behind her.

  I can’t take another step. My limbs are too weak.

  A tabby made an appearance, the black slits of her light green eyes practically slim lines as she zeroed in to the right side of my leg. She could sense Leo’s presence and smell his scent. I’m surprised she waited so long to hiss and arch her back in protest, but she did so theatrically. On the bright side, the catnip couldn’t be laced. The fact that the feline was alive was proof of that theory.

  Hmmmm. You have a good point. No wonder that tabby has such a bad attitude. Now I just feel sorry for her. Apparently, the generic catnip has affected her mental health.

  “Princess, stop that,” Deidre chastised, causing her tabby to hiss once more before running into the sitting room to hide. “I apologize for my baby. She’s been out of sorts since…”

  Deidre couldn’t seem to finish her sentence, and I wondered if maybe I hadn’t read the situation wrong. After all, everyone grieved in different ways.

  I’m grieving for Princess. To be named so nobly like that and only be given generic catnip is a travesty. These people should be brought up on animal cruelty charges. Neglect of a dependent.

  “Ladies, if I could have your attention, please,” Deidre interrupted in a very regal manner, causing the soft murmurs around the room to come to a halt. “This is Sheriff Drake from Paramour Bay, and he has some questions to ask us. Sheriff, Becca Wilson and Claire Wesley are the two women on the couch, and my other friend sitting in the chair is Laura Midleaf. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without them.”

  Did you see that look between those two women on the couch? They know something, Raven. Oh, and there were no herbs in the kitchen besides that generic plastic bottle of cheap catnip. Really. The nerve of these people.