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Enchanting Blend (A Paramour Bay Cozy Paranormal Mystery Book 3) Page 5
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Page 5
“I don’t understand why my spell didn’t work,” I complained, knowing full well that I sounded like a petulant child. I blamed it on the fact that it was one o’clock in the morning. “What other incantations could I do to get a glimpse into the past, Leo?”
Leo moaned in pleasure, and this time it had nothing to do with his memory. He’d curled up in Heidi’s lap, who was scratching underneath his neck in long strokes. He was useless to me now.
“Tell me who Otis had on the suspect list.”
“Well, I’ve got five names. These people weren’t technically suspects, but they were considered persons of interest and interviewed in addition to Nan and Gertie. Can you believe that Gertie owned the inn even way back then?” My toes were beginning to fall asleep in my current position, so I settled back down onto the plush off-white carpet that complemented the living room furniture. “Let’s see. The five are Monty Leete, Albert Wignall, Eugene Tuttle, Trixie Fredericks, and Pearl Saffron.”
“Monty, as in the Monty you tried to knock off?”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen that exact shade of purple before in all of my nine lives.
“I did not try to kill Monty,” I defended myself while considering getting rid of the ginger and peanut oil infused tea blend altogether. It certainly wasn’t one of my best sellers. In fact, most folks have avoided it like the plague since Monty’s adverse reaction. And before you ask, yes…that’s why I’d put that flavor inside the gift bag. I thought it would be a big holiday seller, and it wasn’t. I’m not proud of that reasoning, mind you. “You’re forgetting about Pearl’s hair, Leo. The purple shade on Monty’s face was very similar to Pearl’s hair dye, if you recall.”
Hmmmmm.
Leo wasn’t acknowledging me in the least. He was still thoroughly enjoying the affection that Heidi was bestowing on his rather abnormal body of ragged fur.
“Why were they considered persons of interest?” Heidi asked with her eyes closed. Leo was now draped over her chest with his head nestled into her shoulder. “And aren’t Albert and Eugene the two older gentleman who play chess in the front room of Monty’s Hardware Store next to that potbellied stove?”
“Yes, that would be them.” I scanned the reasons why each person was interviewed, but there was nothing substantial that would cause me to believe that any one of those people committed murder. “Monty was interviewed because Norman had come into the hardware store looking for a crowbar.”
“What did he want with a crowbar?”
“Otis asked that very same question.” I had jotted down some notes between each suspect who had been interviewed. I tilted the page slightly to read my handwriting, which tended to become illegible when I was tired. “Monty stated back then that he never questioned his patrons as to why they purchased the tools they did. Additionally, the crowbar was found in the back seat of Norman Palmer’s vehicle after the murder.”
“You said the two chess players were interviewed.” Heidi shifted a bit on the couch to become more comfortable, but she never opened her eyes. “What did they have to say?”
“Both are retired now, but Albert used to be the groundskeeper of the B&B. He and Norman got into an argument after he accidentally backed over the wood tie in the lot and into one of Albert’s rosebushes.” I squinted to try and decipher what I’d written after Eugene’s name. “Eugene worked at the pharmacy, and there was a heated exchange when Norman stopped in to try and process some film. The photographs had all come out too dark to make out what was in the pictures. Eugene blamed the exposure setting on the camera.”
“Trixie was interviewed because Norman wasn’t happy with one of his meals and created a ruckus at the diner, while Pearl…”
I had to smile at the fact that the older woman with purple hair had worked as a teller in the bank. Pearl’s attitude made sense now. I don’t know about you, but I always feel like the tellers behind the counter are judging me when I make deposits or pull out money—judging me for my lack of saving money rather than spending more frugally.
“Pearl apparently put Norman in his place when he came waltzing in the bank with a two-thousand dollar out of state check. It says here that he was trying to cash a check from another state, but that he didn’t have the proper identification. Nor did he have a bank account at our bank to cover the check if it didn’t clear.” The identification thing was odd. If Norman Palmer had driven into town, why wasn’t he at least carrying a driver’s license? “Maybe Norman Palmer wasn’t who he said he was in the first place.”
I quickly found the report where Pearl had been interviewed.
“Ah, it turns out that Norman claimed to have lost his wallet the first week he was in town. Pearl still refused to cash the check, claiming it was against the bank’s check cashing policies. Norman didn’t take the denial all too well.” I winced at reading what happened next. “He took a bunch of deposit slips off the counter and threw them into the air like confetti. Why would Nan be having dinner with someone who acted like that?”
After my inquiry was greeted with silence, I changed my question.
“Why is no one joining me in this conversation?”
Upon receiving no answer, I found that Heidi and Leo were both fast asleep on the couch. Leo had fallen in between Heidi and the cushions, all four paws wrapped around her forearm. He certainly wasn’t the average housecat, but the drool coming out of the side of his mouth was a bit much.
Heidi was no better.
She was definitely a mouth breather, producing a tiny snore to match his rhythm.
I finally postponed my quest to figure out who murdered Norman Palmer, but only for tonight.
Tomorrow was a new day, filled with promise.
There had to be an incantation somewhere in Nan’s spell book that would allow me to get a peek into the past.
Worst case?
I’d have to call my mother.
Chapter Five
“…crazy to have come up with that idea,” Regina Lattice Marigold exclaimed over the phone.
I’d put my cell in the middle of the kitchen counter, ensuring that the call was on speaker. I didn’t want to be a one-woman audience for one of my mother’s infamous lectures.
Don’t worry.
She’ll calm down soon.
“Heidi, I realize that this all must be rather exciting for you, but rest assured that it is very dangerous dealing with powers you can’t possibly understand. Being a witch is a curse, not a gift. It comes with a lot of responsibility that…”
“Don’t you dare,” I warned Leo with barely a whisper, putting my hand in front of him so that he couldn’t use his paw to hit the cell phone. “We need her help.”
You need help, alright. What were you thinking calling your mother for assistance when she despises the idea of you practicing witchcraft in the first place? I can do without her nonsense. Why do you think Rosemary left me here? It wasn’t because of all the fresh air and open panoramic views.
“How long will your mother go on like this?” Heidi murmured as she poured both of us another cup of coffee. Unfortunately, no amount of caffeine was going to rid me of this killer headache from last night’s bender while poring over the case file. “I was hoping to go into town today to find a dress for New Year’s Eve.”
“…can’t believe that Cora brought up our feud to begin with,” Regina all but bellowed, continuing her tirade. “That’s between us, and she had no right to…”
“I thought you were bringing that black dress you bought on sale this past summer when the winter clothes were on sale?” I whispered back, taking the time to sip my freshly brewed coffee. I’m pretty sure my toes curled and my eyes rolled into the back of my head as the rich flavor slid down my throat. The caffeine did nothing for my headache, but the delicious beverage caused my mood to lift slightly. “Didn’t it have ruffles on the sleeves? Also, the local business owners all decided to close up shop this weekend. Remember? Well, with the exception of Trixie’s Diner and the gas station
.”
You’re being quite rude to allow Regina to carry on like this.
“And it wouldn’t have been rude to hang up on her? I swear, you’re impossible.”
It would have been much more efficient.
“Did Leo just tell you to hang up on me?” It was a good thing Regina didn’t practice witchcraft anymore or Leo might have lost another whisker or two. All three of us leaned back from the counter, just in case. “You tell that mangy little—”
“Mom, I’m not defending Cora Barnes in the least, but she did apologize to me for her behavior toward you.” I motioned for Heidi to bring me the yellow notepad I’d set near the coffee maker. “Cora technically isn’t the reason I’m looking into Norman Palmer’s murder. I still notice some of the residents watching me with that suspicious look in their eyes, and I believe it has something to do with Nan’s role in the unsolved murder case. I mean, she was six months pregnant with you when she was dating Norman.”
Rosemary wasn’t dating Norman Palmer. Good grief.
“Your grandmother did not date Norman Palmer,” my mother replied irritably, clearly still worked up from the moment I’d initiated the call and explained my predicament. A glance at my screen revealed we’d been talking for twenty-four minutes and nine seconds. It certainly wasn’t a record, but she had gone on nonstop for quite a while. “Your grandmother said she’d gone to dinner with Norman to discuss his interest in her herbal remedies.”
See? I told you Rosemary and Norman weren’t dating back then. Why do you never believe me?
“So, Nan did talk to you about Norman.” I shared an excited glance with Heidi. I’d told her that Mom would eventually open up about her past. “What else did Nan say?”
“Raven, did you know that you were two weeks overdue?”
The question came out of nowhere. I began wrapping my hair around my finger to buy me some time to figure out how to get this conversation back on track.
“I did know that,” I admitted reluctantly, having been told that particular fact multiple times in my life…usually when my mother was mad at me. “Mom, do you realize that Albert and Eugene look at me as if I have a third eye in the middle of my forehead every time I walk past the hardware store?”
Oh, that’s only because they think your grandmother reincarnated herself.
I was going to argue with Leo about how insane that sounded, but he might have a point with that one. We Marigold women all have long black hair, green eyes that are practically iridescent, high cheekbones, and rather full lips. Trust me, they aren’t as glorious as those actresses in the old movies portrayed them to be.
“What do those old fools know, anyway?”
My mother hardly ever talked out of turn about another human being—unless that individual was Cora Barnes, of course. Anyway, I could tell that Mom was close to making a trip to Paramour Bay in order to try and drag me back to the city. Nothing was going to ruin my date with Liam, so I figured I’d best come up with a way to end this call while gaining as much information as I could glean.
“Raven, what I’m getting at is that you’ve always been stubborn and you’re being even more obstinate now. Just hearing you mention Norman Palmer’s name makes me break out in hives. Remember, I had to live with that same shadow of guilt my entire childhood. My mother moved to Paramour Bay when she was three months pregnant with me, which means she’d only been in town for three months before Norman Palmer showed up at the tea shop asking questions. I was born three months after his murder.”
Why is it that I remember that clearly, but I can’t recall what I had for breakfast this morning? Wait. Did we eat breakfast?
“I guess I never gave the timeframe much thought,” I responded with a frown, ignoring Leo. Sometimes I forget that Nan moved to Paramour Bay because of a disagreement with her sister over my grandfather—who I still don’t know anything about. Not even his name or if he had any involvement with the case. “You don’t think Aunt Rowena had anything to do with Norman Palmer coming to town so soon after Nan moved here, do you?”
Please don’t mention that woman. I remember her as clear as day, too. She dislikes cats. Who dislikes cats, I ask you?
Leo shuddered, causing a couple of stray orange hairs to hover in the air before floating down to the hardwood floor to mark his passing.
“My mother never spoke with Aunt Rowena after that, so it’s highly doubtful Norman Palmer had anything to do with our extended family.” My mother’s huff of exasperation came over the phone quite clearly. “Raven Lattice, don’t you go looking for trouble with those people.”
“I’m not,” I said defensively, relaxing a bit now that my mother’s tone didn’t contain so many daggers. Heidi went back to icing the cinnamon rolls she’d taken out of the oven after topping off our coffee cups once again. “You have to admit it’s odd that Norman Palmer took Nan out on three separate occasions to talk about herbal remedies.”
“I recall Mother mentioning that Norman Palmer was also interested in the history of the wax museum. He might simply have been a businessman looking to invest his money into Paramour Bay. Who knows? And I can assure you that your grandmother had nothing to do with his murder.”
Could Norman’s presence here in town have been that simple? Had he been looking for investments?
“Then why would someone kill him?” The dots weren’t connecting, and I had a tendency to like all my ducks in a row. “It doesn’t make sense. And who was Fred?”
“Fred?”
“Yes, Fred.” I was getting a sense of déjà vu. “Leo mentioned a Fred last night before his slate went black. Was Fred a local?”
I remember Fred.
“Really?” I whispered harshly to Leo, wishing he’d said something sooner. What was with this Fred guy? “Would someone please tell me who Fred was?”
“We’re getting a bad connection, dear.”
Heidi snorted the coffee she’d just sipped all over the cinnamon rolls, though I didn’t find my mother’s attempt of dodging my question funny in the least. Plus, Heidi had just ruined my breakfast.
So, we didn’t have breakfast is what you’re telling me.
“Mom, don’t you dare hang up on me. You heard my question as clear as day.” I grabbed my cell phone and brought it closer to my mouth. “Who was Fred? There’s not one person listed in these crime reports with that name. Mom? Don’t you dare hang up that phone!”
“What was that? I can’t hear you, Raven.” I could literally hear my mother tapping her nail on the phone. Did she really think that would actually work on me? “I’m hanging up now. Call me tomorrow. Ta-ta.”
By this time, Heidi was laughing uncontrollably while Leo casually cleaned those bent whiskers of his. I turned all my focus on him, considering he’d said his memory had returned.
“Leo.” I was very careful to keep my tone even when all I really wanted to do was take him by the ears. “Who is Fred?”
Fred is dead.
“I figured Fred was dead, since no one living in town has that name. But he was obviously alive at some point around fifty-three years ago,” I reminded him, resting the palms of my hands on the counter in order to make eye contact with Leo. “What was his connection to the wax museum? Was he related to Rita Carter?”
Heidi was laughing to the point of barely breathing while I did everything I could to hang on to my patience. It wasn’t wearing thin at all. It was about to snap.
Fred worked for Rita.
Victory!
“So, Norman came to town in order to talk to Rita about Fred…who, in turn, worked for Rita. Do I have those facts correct?”
Leo’s whiskers twitched.
It was his telltale sign that he was losing what memories had returned.
What facts were we discussing?
This short-term memory loss was turning into full on amnesia when it came to certain time periods in his life.
Catnip might help. I’m certain of it. Where’s my pipe?
“You dis
appear for hours at a time when I give you catnip,” I complained, wishing witchcraft wasn’t so complicated. Why wasn’t there a spell to reverse the consequences of black magic? “Maybe we should call Mom back and—”
Between Heidi and Leo both shaking their heads and cutting off my suggestion with a chorus of no’s loud enough to break glass, I decided they might be right.
That left me with only one course of action.
“Heidi, let’s finish getting ready and then head into town for a real breakfast.”
“Wait,” Heidi said a little breathlessly, still trying to control her laughter. She even wiped the corners of her eyes with a dishtowel. “I thought you said none of the shops were open.”
“They aren’t, but Alison Bend will be at the wax museum getting the place ready for the New Year’s Eve party on Monday night. We can stop by after…” I arched a brow at the drenched cinnamon rolls as I walked past with my coffee cup in hand. “…we eat at the diner.”
My last suggestion might have had an ulterior motive, because Otis usually had most of his meals at the diner. At least his memory was intact.
I heard that.
Besides, what could it hurt to ask Otis a few questions about this mysterious Fred?
Chapter Six
“I have absolutely no idea who you’re talking about,” Otis adamantly denied, wiping his salt and pepper mustache with a paper napkin. “There was no one with the first name of Fred connected to the murder investigation. And I should know. I was twenty-two at the time, and I remember that case as if it were yesterday. Now, I know what you’re thinking—that’s pretty young. What town would hire someone so inexperienced to be sheriff, but no one wanted the job. It so happened that I had just completed a degree in criminal justice. It only took me three and a half years, because I was driven to complete the program. I stepped up to the plate with more confidence than I should have, not knowing then that I would have a dead body on my hands in my first month on the job.”
I winced when Otis’ animated voice carried throughout the diner, alerting every patron to our conversation.