Enchanting Blend (A Paramour Bay Cozy Paranormal Mystery Book 3) Read online

  Sure enough, several heads turned in our direction.

  The rumor mill was blowing out the cobwebs.

  I couldn’t force myself to look over my shoulder at Eugene and Albert. I’m fairly certain they were probably both glued to this not-so-private discussion.

  Not to squirrel when Otis was finally revealing information about the case, but I’d really thought the man was in his late sixties when we’d talked before. I quickly did the math to come up with the ripe old age of seventy-five.

  Holy cow!

  I hope I look half as well preserved at the age that he does.

  A thought occurred to me.

  Had Nan been sprinkling some of Cora’s aging blend into Otis’ arthritis blend?

  It made me wonder just how far had Nan had gone with playing witch doctor to these good folks here in Paramour Bay.

  “These are the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten,” Heidi murmured around the oversized bite of food she’d just shoved in her mouth. Her eyes rolled in blissful pleasure. “Seriously, have you had these?”

  I’d ordered the same breakfast plate, but I was too concerned with the conversation to really develop an appetite. Being the first one to get bundled up this morning after talking with Mom, I’d made a quick detour to the backyard to find and speak with Ted. He hadn’t answered my knock on the shed door, and I couldn’t make anything out through the drapes that hung over the frosty windows.

  Where could he have gone this morning?

  I know it’s odd, but Ted usually visited Mindy’s boutique shop to check out a mannequin she had on display. Mindy swore that the gentle giant was in love with the woman-sized doll, but her shop would be closed today.

  Ted also didn’t drive, and we were a fair walk from town…especially in this wickedly cold weather.

  “Where did you come up with that name from, anyway?” Otis asked, his curiosity clearly piqued as he dragged my attention back to the conversation at hand. He pushed his plate slightly away from the edge of the table so that he could rest an arm on the laminate surface as he swirled the toothpick dispenser with his other hand in preparation of selecting the right one. “Norman Palmer was murdered fifty-three years ago. It’s not like people still find the time to talk about that cold case.”

  I took Heidi’s advice and shoved a forkful of pancakes in my mouth to buy myself some time. My saliva glands immediately sprang to life. What in the world did the chef put in the batter?

  More importantly, what was I going to say to Otis?

  Did I mention that I decided to use my newly discovered talent for witchcraft to solve our town’s only unsolved murder case?

  I did, didn’t I?

  Yeah, that hadn’t gone over very well.

  Nothing was apparently going to stand up to the task at hand, because no spell I found could show me the last few moments of Norman Palmer’s life. The one I’d used hadn’t been very effective, and Leo didn’t know of another one that I could garner the information I wanted.

  Wait a second.

  What if Leo really did remember what happened all those years ago? What if he was pulling one over on me similar to my mother’s dodge that she’d tried to pull on the phone this morning?

  There could very well be an enchantment hidden in Nan’s spell book to pop his cork!

  “I’ve already explained that Cora came into the shop yesterday and brought up what happened between her and my mother,” I managed to say after swallowing the large bite I’d taken of the pancakes. Heidi was right. They were beyond amazing. A quick sip of tea and I was able to talk a little more clearly. “I know it sounds silly, but I think some of the townsfolk still believe Nan had something to do with Norman Palmer’s murder.”

  On a side note, I was drinking tea. No one else besides Liam knew of my addiction to coffee. I had to keep up public appearances. Owning a tea shop came with responsibilities, and one of those was drinking the beverage I sold to the diner.

  Trust me, I was still figuring out a way to incorporate various coffee blends into the shop’s inventory. The name Tea, Leaves, & Eves made it rather difficult to add beans.

  “I found no leads or evidence of any sort that implicated your grandmother was involved,” Otis exclaimed, his bushy left eyebrow rising higher than his right. “And neither did the veteran state detective I called in on the case back then. He helped me in more ways than you can imagine over my first few years on the job. He’s long since retired now and living somewhere in Florida, last I checked. I bet he’s got himself one of those fancy boats for saltwater fishing.”

  It was a known fact around town that the only thing Otis might love more than his wife was fishing the local lakes. It was clear to see that he was going a bit stir crazy this time of year, but he still wore his fishing hat decorated with flies and small lures.

  We were really getting off topic now—pancakes and fishing hats.

  “Otis, I thought I saw somewhere in the reports that a man who went by the name of Fred worked for Rita Carter at the museum.” Heidi nudged me, but I ignored her rebuke that I’d stretched the truth. Even my mother had gone to great lengths to avoid talking about this Fred guy. What was everyone hiding? “I found it odd that he wasn’t interviewed or had a statement taken.”

  “This is what I recall, Raven,” Otis declared, leaning forward to impart his recollection of the past. “Norman Palmer came into town unannounced. He stopped in at the B&B for a room at the seasonal weekly rate. He told Gertie that he wasn’t sure when he’d be checking out. The man ended up staying in Paramour Bay for two weeks, during which time he spoke to Rita about the museum, your grandmother about her special herbal remedies, and ate three meals a day here at this very diner—even though Gertie served meals at the inn as part of his room and board. That man acted as if he was looking for something very specific, but he took all his secrets to the grave the day he died in the surf.”

  “Why was Rita never officially interviewed during the murder investigation, and what did Mr. Palmer want to ask her about the museum?”

  I had a lot more questions, but those two were currently at the top of my list. Something was definitely hinky about the investigation, but it wasn’t polite to accuse Otis of any improprieties. Come to think of it, Nan might have very well had a hand in the direction that Otis’ questioning took. Hmmm. It was something to ponder.

  “Rita was only in town for the first few days of Norman’s stay at the inn. If I recall correctly, I added a line or two in there somewhere in those crime reports that she had left on her annual vacation to England,” Otis shared, a fond smile growing underneath his mustache. “Rita used to bring back the best shortbread I’ve ever tasted from those trips. Shame that she finally passed on a few years back.”

  Heidi had nudged my side with her elbow three more times during my conversation with Otis, so I finally tore my gaze from his to see what was so important that it couldn’t wait until we were alone. Her blue eyes were rather wide with worry and darting in the direction of the window.

  Oh, my.

  Ted was standing on the sidewalk, facing Mindy’s boutique while holding a bouquet of flowers frozen stiff in his hand. He’d brought the mannequin flowers? My heart broke for him, and I couldn’t allow him to remain outside in this cold weather pinning away for an inanimate object. I already had an odd enough reputation in this town without Ted adding his kooky behavior to the mix.

  “I forgot my…my phone in the car,” Heidi exclaimed, feigning a brief search of her purse. “Would you two excuse me? I’ll be right back.”

  I debated allowing Heidi to be the one to go outside and retrieve Ted, but she’d already had a pretty decent cover story worked up. We couldn’t both leave our breakfast plates half-eaten on the table, so I scooted out of the booth and allowed Heidi to do the same.

  “Don’t eat the rest of my pancakes,” Heidi said jokingly, casually taking her dress coat off the silver pole that each booth had installed between them. “I’m coming back for those.”
r />   “She’s got spunk,” Otis praised, refocusing his gaze back on me as I reclaimed my seat. “Did you hear that old man Beetle is retiring? We’re going to need a new CPA in town. Isn’t Heidi one of those number crunchers kind of folks in the Big Apple?”

  This was the first I was hearing about…wait a minute.

  “Beetle? You mean the older gentleman who drives the red Volkswagen Bug?”

  I’d seen the white-haired man driving into town every day, but I didn’t know they referred to him by that nickname. Technically, I didn’t know his real name, either. He obviously wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but I did find the nickname rather endearing. Another thing I found appealing—really appealing—was Otis’ suggestion about Heidi moving to Paramour Bay.

  Now wouldn’t that be something?

  Having my best friend live so far away was difficult, but would she consider such a drastic change in her lifestyle?

  My best friend was citified through and through, much like me, and I wasn’t so sure she’d ever consider such a drastic move. The thing of it was, she spent at least two weekends a month taking the train from the city to come visit me. Could I convince her that it would be in her best interest for her to live in Paramour Bay rather than in New York City?

  There were a lot of benefits to living in a small town, most of which were intangible. I could write down the advantages in order to prove to her that the pros outweighed the cons.

  “Back to the old murder investigation, I don’t believe there’s much I can tell you that I didn’t jot down in those reports. I was new to the job, and I recorded down everything I could think of at the time.” Otis drank the rest of his coffee. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of much help.”

  “I appreciate you inviting me and Heidi to join you for breakfast,” I said, meaning every word. Residents in Paramour Bay always took time out for one another, and that was definitely something I could include in the pro column for Heidi. I tried my best not to look out the window, not wanting to call attention to her efforts to corral Ted. “Being the newcomer in town can be rather difficult.”

  Otis appeared to want to say something, but he instead leaned forward so that he could reach for his wallet. He pulled it out of his back pocket, flipped it open, and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and some ones.

  He was paying for our meals.

  How sweet was that?

  Another added bonus I could tack to the pros on Heidi’s list to living in a small town was that the prices were beyond reasonable for three people to eat at the diner. A complete meal for one at the diner only cost five dollars and fifty cents. In the city, pancakes and sausage with an orange juice would have been twenty-two dollars alone…and that was without the six-dollar coffee.

  “Breakfast is on me,” Otis said with a brief smile. His salt and pepper mustache that he’d decided to grow in the last two months made him look even more distinguished if that were even possible. He must have been quite the looker back in the day. One side of that mustache curled downward as he spoke. “Raven, your grandmother was a single pregnant woman who’d just moved to a new town around the same time Norman Palmer showed his face. It was a shame that she got caught up in that murder investigation, but the past is the past.”

  “Is it?” I quietly laid my fork on my plate, sneaking a glance at Heidi’s cup of coffee. Would Otis know if I picked up the wrong cup? “Albert and Eugene still look at me suspiciously every time I walk past them over at the hardware store. My mother lost high school friends over those old rumors, and I know it still bothers her to know people believe Nan had something to do with Mr. Palmer’s death. I’m sure it’s part of the reason she left for the city.”

  I did want to clarify something before Otis left the diner.

  “Nan told my mother that she and Mr. Palmer only ever talked business over those meals they’d shared before his death. Why did people believe they were dating?”

  I steeled myself for any detail that would cause me to have a different opinion about my grandmother. It was possible that Otis had left something out of the reports he’d drawn up back then. After all, fifty-three years was a very, very long time ago.

  I certainly didn’t expect Otis to have an actual answer that left me doubting my mother’s earlier account of Nan’s explanation.

  “Everyone saw Norman Palmer kissing your grandmother goodnight on the sidewalk after their last dinner together. It was common knowledge.” Otis reached over and patted my hand, most likely to make sure I hadn’t gone into shock. “As I said, Raven. The past is best left buried where it belongs.”

  Had I not seen Otis’ lips moving when he gave me his advice about the past, I would have sworn those words came from between Leo’s bent whiskers.

  The past was best left buried.

  It wasn’t, though.

  I had a renewed sense of purpose to clear my grandmother’s name.

  “Thank you for breakfast, Otis.” I squeezed his fingers to let him know how grateful I was he’d answered all of my questions. “Will I see you Monday night at the New Year’s celebration?”

  “The missus. and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s our one chance to get all dressed up.” Otis concentrated on folding his wallet and tucking it into the back pocket of his khaki pants. Before too long, he was putting his fishing hat back on and giving me a charming wink. “I hear we’ll be seeing you there on Liam’s arm, as well.”

  “Don’t forget me,” Heidi chimed in, saving me from saying something sappy to the man who’d done an amazing job raising a fine young boy into the man he was today. “I’m always up for a good party, Mr. Finley.”

  “Otis, dear. Call me Otis.” He scooted out of the booth and held out an arm, kindly gesturing for Heidi to take his seat. “Raven and I were just discussing the benefits a small town could offer a person looking to relocate. I’m sure she’ll fill you in on the details.”

  Otis and I shared a secret smile before he made his way to the exit, stopping at almost every table to tell other patrons he’d see them Monday evening or something similar.

  Wouldn’t it be fantastic if Heidi lived in Paramour Bay?

  “Where’s Ted?” I whispered now that everyone’s attention was on Otis’ departure. “I can’t believe Ted walked to town in this weather. And where did he find those flowers?”

  I suppose it was a silly question to ask, considering Ted was the one who somehow found every single ingredient I needed for all my various spells. He must have access to a greenhouse somewhere.

  Seriously, where did one find fresh white rose petals in the dead of winter here in Connecticut?

  “Ted is sitting in the car with the heater on, so we need to finish eating as quickly as possible.” Heidi hastily slid her plate over while pushing Otis’ toward the window. The ponytail she’d compiled high on her head swung back and forth as she scooted forward so we could maintain privacy. “And you know Ted. He didn’t say much, other than he wanted to stop into the boutique. Do you really think he’s in love with a mannequin? That’s more than a little odd.”

  “No, I don’t think Ted’s in love with a mannequin,” I admitted, my appetite finally returning. “I think Ted has a crush on Mindy, but he doesn’t want her to know he’s interested.”

  “You’re probably right,” Heidi admitted, giving Otis one last wave before he walked out the door. “So, what did I miss?”

  “Nothing new, other than Otis revealing that Norman Palmer was seen kissing my grandmother goodnight, and that’s the reason the town believes they were seeing one another.”

  A kiss was a kiss.

  Maybe Nan had been falling for Norman Palmer.

  “You do realize that everyone you want to speak to about the case is going to be at the party on Monday night, right?” Heidi wiggled her eyebrows as she took another bite of her pancakes. “We can divide and conquer. I bet when I tell Jack that we’ve been going over the old case files, he’ll want in on the side action, too. Nothing like clearing a cold case to get
you noticed.”

  I gave Heidi’s suggestion some thought, coming to the conclusion that she might be onto something. Detective Jack Swanson would have access to the state police files compiled during Norman Palmer’s murder investigation.

  “That’s not a bad idea at all, Heidi.” I lifted my now cold cup of tea, more than anything wishing it were piping hot coffee. She clinked her mug to my cup in success. “Let’s finish our meal, and then get Ted home before he becomes a mannequin all on his own. I was so afraid that he’d gotten lost that I—”

  Yes! That’s it!

  A spell that could locate a lost item.

  Yes, yes, yes!

  “That’s what we need,” I exclaimed, making circling motions with my hand to communicate my need to hurry. “Heidi, Norman Palmer lost his wallet sometime during the two weeks he was here in town. I can cast a locating spell to find his billfold. Maybe wherever the wallet is found can give us an idea of who he really was and why he was even in Paramour Bay in the first place. This could be it, Heidi. This could be the break we’ve been searching for.”

  Chapter Seven

  Evening had fallen along with another inch of snow, and I was still without any solid answers.

  There might be a reason for that.

  As you can tell, Leo’s catnip hangover had worn off from this morning. He was a bit crispy, as it were.

  “Leo, you’re not being fair. You know something about Fred that you’re not telling me. Why keep it from me when you know I’ll figure out his identity eventually?”

  Sure enough, Leo’s whiskers twitched at the mere mention of Fred’s name.

  “Did you know that your Aunt Rowena sent your grandmother a birthday card every year?” Heidi’s voice floated down from the bedroom loft where she was currently sorting through one of the many boxes Nan had left behind with our family history. “There’s a small sentiment written in each one.”

  “Do the messages include anything of importance?” I asked from my position in front of the fire place. I was once again seated between the hearth and the coffee table. I’d set out the pestles and mortars needed for the locater incantation, and I was currently flipping the pages of Nan’s grimoire looking for various enchantments and charms that would help Leo’s short-term memory loss—not that it was a problem at the moment. I’d come to the conclusion he wanted to keep certain things hidden from me for what he considered my own protection. “And is there a return address on the envelopes? Maybe I should reach out to her.”