Phantom Blend (A Paramour Bay Cozy Paranormal Mystery Book 12) Page 3

  “Oh, yes,” Bernard exclaimed with a vigorous nod of his head. “I knew Mabel very well. She was the very reason I came to town. Did you know that—”

  Leo groaned loud enough that he even caught Heidi’s attention. He stood on his munchkin legs and stretched his haunches high into the air until he let out a sigh of relief after a final shake of his tail.

  Okay, Bernard. I can’t take it anymore now that my memory has been jogged, and I’m not talking about my morning run with Skippy. Here’s the gist of it, Raven.

  “Bernard, feel free to interrupt Leo if he gets a detail or two wrong,” I warned the phantom, having a sense of déjà vu. Leo’s memory blips were responsible for a lot of shenanigans that had us escaping for our lives by a single strand of hair. “I want to make sure we know everything so that we can solve your murder, release you from that mirror, and let you join my Nan in the afterlife.”

  Don’t interrupt me, Bernard. I’ve got a chickadee to see about some acorns.

  I wasn’t about to be sidetracked by Leo’s attempt to get our resident chickadee, who lived in a nest on one of the lampposts along the main thoroughfare of town, to help him with his current crusade. That little birdie was way too smart to be bamboozled into Leo’s annual battle with the local squirrels.

  “Leo,” I warned, afraid that Elsie and Wilma were going to walk into the house at any moment. The last thing we needed was for one of the residents to see a mirror with a talking head. “Tell us quickly about Bernard so that we can do some damage control.”

  From my understanding and spotty memory, Bernard came to Paramour Bay sometime back in the 1920s to see Mabel Watson about her great-grandfather. Seymour Watson apparently struck gold out west, which was how he’d managed to move his family all the way across the country to lay down some roots in Paramour Bay. Rumor has it that he originally had a partner by the name of Randolph Williams, but Seymour took off with the entire haul.

  “And you were here to see if Mabel knew anything about the gold, Bernard?” I asked after having caught Heidi up to speed.

  “In a manner of speaking, Miss Marigold,” Bernard replied with another shake of his head. “I’m not pleased to say this, but I’d come to town to claim half of the inn. The way I saw it back then, I was entitled to half of the gold that our great-grandfathers had discovered together. Of course, I’ve had time to reflect upon my greed and the means about which I had…”

  You can understand why someone might have wanted Bernard out of the way. It’s only logical that Mabel Watson herself committed the horrible deed of murder. Case closed.

  “If that’s true, why is Bernard still stuck in the mirror?” I asked with open curiosity, somehow finding myself enthralled with the backstory of two feuding families. It couldn’t hurt to look into the history of the two families and give Bernard the closure he needed to enter the afterlife. Besides, the man’s spirit was literally stuck inside a mirror. Magic had to have entered the picture somewhere. “I’m not so sure that Mabel was the killer. I mean, someone imprisoned Bernard’s spirit for all eternity. Why?”

  Oh, I don’t know. Eternal da—

  “Don’t you dare,” I said, lifting a finger in caution toward Leo for his verbiage. The last thing Bernard needed to hear was that he’d never be free from his prison. Plus, Leo knew better than to use such coarse language. “Bernard—”

  A knock came at the door, followed by the outer screen opening and revealing none other than the sheriff of Paramour Bay himself—Liam Drake.

  “Hey, I got your message,” Liam called out as he came through the living room. “It sounded urgent, and Elsie said that you two came inside to look for—”

  There was no need to hide the enchanted mirror, so we all stayed in our seats as Liam was brought up short by the sight of a floating head in the reflection. My back was to him, but I could see from Heidi’s expression that Liam was having a hard time digesting the sight in front of him.

  I’m pretty sure if we were in a cartoon, the good ol’ sheriff’s chin would have hit the floor. I’ve changed my mind. This is quite entertaining.

  I peeked over my shoulder with chagrin.

  “Leo might have forgotten to mention that there was an enchanted hand mirror stuffed in the back of the linen closet,” I revealed, having learned long ago that Liam could handle anything thrown his way. “Meet Bernard Williams, murdered in the 1920s whose soul was cast into the mirror for all eternity.”

  Way to throw me under the bus, Raven.

  “You certainly know how to kick off the annual garage sale, don’t you?” Liam murmured, cautiously taking a step into the kitchen. He never took his attention off the mirror, almost as if he were afraid that Bernard could somehow escape from his confines. “Please tell me that you were able to keep this under wraps.”

  “So far, so good,” Heidi muttered, standing from the chair to get Liam a cup of coffee. He was going to need it after hearing the rest of the story. “Have a seat.”

  “I think I’ll stand,” Liam replied, remaining where he was at the threshold of the living room. “Raven, please tell me you can…”

  Liam let his voice trail off as he used his right hand to make circling motions, which I understood to mean magic.

  Oy vey. See, Bernard? You didn’t miss much.

  “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy, Liam.” I shifted in my chair so that I wouldn’t get a kink in my neck looking over my shoulder. “Bernard claims that he was killed at the inn.”

  “Our inn?”

  “Our very own Paramour Bay Inn.”

  We could always shove him back inside the linen closet. No offense, Bernard, but my life is a little busy right now. We can revisit this issue next year or maybe the one after that.

  “Leo, we aren’t shoving Bernard back in amongst the towels and sheets,” I countered, peering up at Liam with hesitation. “I think there is a good chance that the spell cast onto the mirror is basically warded.”

  “Warded?” Heidi asked, reclaiming her seat after having handed off a full cup of coffee to Liam. I’d relayed everything that Leo had said regarding Bernard to her, but I hadn’t included my thoughts on the mechanisms of an enchanted mirror. “Does that mean there is a key of some sort? A magical one, I mean?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” I replied tentatively, wondering how to word this without disturbing the recent status quo that Liam and I had managed to obtain these last few months. “I believe the only way to release Bernard from the confines of his prison is to solve his murder and acquire something that belonged to the witch or warlock who cast the spell to begin with.”

  You couldn’t have just gone along with my suggestion of shoving him back into the linen closet, could you?

  Chapter Three

  “Hello, Sheriff Liam!” Bernard greeted with a booming voice and what appeared to be a wink. To Liam’s credit, his boots only came an inch off the ground. “It’s nice to officially meet you, sir. You’re been around the cottage so often that I feel as if we’re the best of pals. How is your sister doing after her bout of appendicitis? Dreadful thing, that. Back in my day…”

  Liam rubbed his forehead upon realizing the implication of Bernard’s question and the fact that he didn’t have time to answer before Bernard launched into a personal monologue of long-past events. I found myself refocusing on one thing and one thing only.

  If Bernard had heard our everyday conversations, then that meant he’d heard…

  It’s a one-story cottage with a bedroom loft, Raven. There’s an echo. Why do you think I go and keep Ted company in his shed when the good ol’ sheriff comes over? These are innocent ears that shouldn’t be assailed by the particulars of your wooing rituals.

  “Well, it would have been nice to have a heads up that I had a floating head listening in at the back of my linen closet, Leo,” I whispered a bit snappily at him after I’d pictured Bernard hearing particulars that should positively be kept private. I cleared my throat in mortification before steer
ing the conversation in another direction. “Long story short, Bernard Williams’ great-grandfather mined gold with Mabel Watson’s great-grandfather somewhere out west. Seymour Watson allegedly left the West Coast and moved his family to Paramour Bay with all the gold, cutting Randolph Williams out of the picture.”

  I don’t think I ever asked how much gold was involved. How much are we talking about, Bernard? Enough to buy an acorn farm? You don’t think some of that gold is buried somewhere around the inn, do you?

  “Leo, I’m sorry to say that your current battle with Skippy is going to have to be put on hold.” I ignored the twitching of his crooked whiskers to focus on the facts of the case. “Anyway, Bernard came to Paramour Bay in hopes of reclaiming half of the gold back in the 1920s. Clearly, he never received the Williams’ cut of the treasure.”

  And I’m never giving up my goal of stopping the squirrelpocalypse, Raven. I’ve sworn myself to the holy crusade of ending the squirrelpocalypse prophesy of ultimate death and destruction of the known world. I’ll be hailed a hero in this town, and a statue will be put up in my honor. You’ll see. One day, my likeness will be covered in pigeon poop.

  “I admire your dedication, Mr. Leo,” Bernard offered forth, floating a little to the right so that he could see Leo. “I remember the squirrels frolicking in front of the inn all those years ago, attempting to reach the bird feeders that were cleverly arranged in the front yard. I doubt they’ve changed much over the years. Their machinations were highly entertaining during the afternoons, I dare say.”

  Leo remained silent, though he attempted to narrow both eyes in contemplation. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what was going through that brain of his, so I focused on Liam when he offered his help.

  “I don’t recall there being an unsolved murder from the 1920s, but I’ll look through the files one more time,” Liam offered, having been in this position before. He’d stated many times that there had only been one unsolved murder in the history of Paramour Bay. Unfortunately, that one had involved my Nan. “I’ll also try to stop off at the inn to see if I can talk to Gertie, but I doubt that she’ll be there. Rye took her into the city to pick out some subway tile for the remodel of the individual bathrooms of the suites.”

  Rye Dolgiram was the local handyman who also happened to be a wizard on the side. He was in his late twenties or early thirties and hadn’t been born and raised in Paramour Bay, so it was highly doubtful that he would know anything about the Watson family history.

  As for Liam, he was well aware that I came from a long line of witches and that mysteries of all sorts managed to pop up at the most unexpected times. He was also mindful of Rye’s abilities, the local librarian who just happened to be a werewolf, and the grim reaper named Ivan who posed as the keeper of the town’s small cemetery.

  Don’t forget to mention the Mistress of the Dark. Your mother is a dark vortex of power in and unto herself, and one that has a tendency to destroy all things in her path. Speaking of that cretin, wasn’t she supposed to be here this morning?

  “I can stop over at the inn after Heidi and I close up our tables for the evening,” I said, feeling slightly better now that we were finally making a plan. The faster we could get Bernard free from his prison, the better. The poor thing had been stuck in a mirror for close to a century. “In the meantime, we’ll leave Leo inside to keep Bernard company while we finish up the garage sale.”

  I had fully expected Leo to argue, but he remained suspiciously silent, as if I’d fallen into another one of his traps.

  Heidi and Liam were also staring at Leo, waiting for his loud meows of protest, but he’d settled in the chair with what appeared to be perfect contentment.

  “Is there something else I should know?” Liam asked skeptically, his wary gaze switching between Bernard and Leo. “I’ll admit to only being able to handle so much in one such cosmically insane conversation.”

  “Neither one of us can say that life with Raven is boring,” Heidi muttered as she stood up from the table. “I only thought floating heads in mirrors happened in fairy tales. I should have known better.”

  “Bernard, you said that the last thing you remembered right before…well, right before you were murdered…was that you were standing in front of the fireplace at the inn smoking your pipe.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him that smoking was no longer allowed at the inn. “Do you know how you died?”

  Once again, I waited for Leo give his two cents.

  All I heard were crickets.

  Also, the sound of running water as Heidi rinsed out her cup.

  “Your charming grandmother asked me that numerous times, but I can’t seem to recall,” Bernard answered despondently, his face floating a bit to the left as he answered my question. I noticed Liam’s boots backed up by an inch. It was quite eerie to converse with a floating head in a hand mirror that was propped up in a chair. “I do believe I was having a brandy with my smoke.”

  “Do you remember any of the guests who were staying at the inn when you were there?” I asked, attempting to give Liam some more names to investigate. “Was someone keeping you company in the parlor?”

  “I was waiting for Mabel to join me to discuss the specifics of our deal,” Bernard replied with conviction. “She’d confessed that day to knowing what her great-grandfather had done by stealing all the gold, but he’d spent the vast majority of it over the years. It was late evening as I recall, and the only other guest was a gentleman traveling to New York City. He’d retired for the evening, though. Paulie Russo was his name.”

  “That’s a good place to start,” I replied quickly, sensing that Bernard was about to steer the conversation away from his own murder and on to another lengthy story.

  “It is,” Liam agreed, handing his empty mug over to Heidi. “I’ll see what I can find out about Paulie Russo while looking for any files involving the murder of Bernard Williams.”

  I stood and walked over to Liam, raising up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss of appreciation. He might have blinked a moment or two upon my confession of being a witch, but he’d stood by my side through it all. We’d even managed to hide his knowledge from the coven. It was bad enough that they knew of Heidi’s familiarity with the supernatural.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, resting my cheek against his hand when he cradled my face. “I appreciate the help.”

  “Heidi’s right,” Liam murmured, pressing his lips to my forehead. “You do keep life interesting. I’ll touch base with you tonight. Stay safe and keep out of trouble.”

  Liam turned to go, but then lifted a finger as if he’d remembered something.

  “I don’t need to worry about Leo, do I?”

  I resent that question. You can tell the good ol’ sheriff that I—

  “No,” I replied, rather unconvincingly if Liam’s crooked smile was anything to go by. “Maybe. Probably, so I’ll let you know if anything pops up.”

  If the good ol’ sheriff is referring to the small mishap that took place on River Bay in front of the bakery, he can go arrest Satan’s mini-feathered dragon that took up residence in the lamppost. He was the one who divebombed into oncoming traffic.

  “The chickadee was only divebombing you because you stole one of his feathers that had fallen out of his nest,” I argued, shooing Liam away through the living room so that he didn’t get caught up in the conversation. “And it wasn’t just a mishap. It was a fender bender that I offered to pay for because you ran out in the middle of the street causing Mr. Jenkins to lock up his brakes.”

  Tomayto, tomahto. Let’s not split hairs when we have a murder to solve.

  “Spill it, Leo,” I ordered as I slid my chair back in place with a smack against the table. Heidi came over to stand next to me and crossed her arms, giving Leo a stare that all but said he wouldn’t get any treats if he didn’t fess up this minute. I’d been keeping her in the loop with Leo’s narrative, and even she was skeptical that he was now willing to help Bernard find a way to cross into the a
fterlife. “You are usually the one cautioning us against us getting involved with murder mysteries, so what’s changed? What do you remember from the time that Nan looked into Bernard’s death?”

  Fine. If you must know, it was Bernard bringing up the ninja misfits hanging from the bird feeders in front of the inn that it all began to click into place. I’ve deduced that Skippy’s forefathers must have had a hand in Bernard’s murder. How else do you explain all those Oak trees lining the neighborhood park? They must have stolen the gold and used it in exchange for a forest.

  “Mr. Leo, are you trying to say that I died because a bunch of gleeful squirrels wanted to frolic in a field of acorns?” Bernard asked, cynicism lacing his somewhat hollow tone. “I find that a little—”

  “Farfetched, is what it is,” I finished wryly, shaking my head at the detours that Leo’s mind sometimes took at the most inopportune time. “Leo, Skippy and his ancestors had no part in Bernard’s death. It is more likely that they planted those trees themselves. A forgotten accord here and there…and presto. Eighty years later, you have a forest of trees. My bet is that either Mabel Watson or Paulie Russo had something to do with it, but we’ll get to the bottom of it just in case. I promise, Bernard.”

  “It’s good to be back!” he exclaimed, twirling around in the mirror and lifting his chin up toward a ray of sunshine that was coming through the kitchen window. “Now what should we talk about to pass the time, old friend? Didn’t you receive a catnip farm up in Alaska for Christmas that…”

  “Why are you arching your brow like that?” Heidi asked quietly as we turned to walk back outside. Hopefully, the day passed quickly without any more fanfare. “You and your mother only ever do that if someone’s in trouble or you think they’re lying.”

  “Bernard got his power to communicate with us from the sun,” I murmured, glancing over my shoulder to find Leo running one of his paws down his face. I figure he’d make another disappearance in a few minutes after he was unable to listen to another word from our guest. “That means the spell is bound with the earth’s energy. Only a true witch or wizard has the ability to cast an incantation like that, which means…”