Curse Me Under the Mistletoe Page 6

  Piper beamed and shot me a satisfied smile that all but promised every single one of us would be wearing knitted accessories after the holidays. Oh, I was starting to wish for the New Year to be rung in fast so that this one was a thing of the past.

  Trust me, we’ll have those knitted accessories as a reminder.

  “You’ll thank me when the temperature turns colder,” Piper warned us, pushing a chair out with her boot when Orwin finally returned, giving Knox a nod as they passed each other. “Orwin, let me read through the email exchange between Mrs. Wilkes and Mrs. Booneville. Maybe I can find a reason to knock Mrs. Wilkes off the suspect list.”

  “Well, we’re going to need to add another,” Orwin replied grimly, shooting a glance over his shoulder. “While all of you were talking to Vanessa, I did some additional research on her father. Did you catch what she said about Edgar not knowing about his brother’s werewolf curse, and that it stayed that way until his death?”

  We need to warn Mr. Emeric of this revelation, dear colleagues.

  I had to stop myself from lunging out of my seat to prevent Knox from going with Vanessa. Orwin had just pointed out something vital that we’d overlooked during the conversation, and we’d all missed it.

  That we did, dear hexed one. Just to clarify, alien hunter, are you saying that we now have to add an entire pack of werewolves to the suspect list? I’m not so sure that my sweet Piper’s app has the empty spaces for that many names. This is quite the dilemma.

  Chapter Six

  “Are you sure that Orwin should have gone to bail out Gracie Lynn?” Piper asked, biting her lower lip in worry. We’d stored her knitting purchases in the Jeep before making our way to the boutique that was currently having a thirty percent off sale. It also helped that the owner of the boutique played bridge every Thursday night with the Boonevilles. There was bound to be some chin-wagging going on over there. “I don’t mean that, obviously. She was just taken in for questioning, but you know what I mean. Besides, I’m not sure what he could say to make her believe a stranger would show up to give her a ride back to town.”

  I believe the alien hunter mentioned the “desperate love route”, where he needed a reading ASAP to see what happens in his immediate future. He was thinking that he should say he saw her being led out of her shop by police just as he was racing to her for insight. In his frantic need for a reading, he followed her to see if he could help.

  “Yeah, I’m not so sure that’s the route he should have chosen, either,” I muttered, lifting my scarf a bit so that the wind didn’t travel inside my jacket. We now had both Orwin and Knox to worry about, and it wasn’t even lunchtime. “The last thing we need is for the tables to be turned, leaving us to be the ones bailing him out for stalking.”

  Oh, I do love when you show your sense of humor, dear hexed one.

  “I like it better when we’re all together, have a short suspect list, and we’re able to solve the case in a day.” Piper and I passed the chocolate shop, although this time there was a snowman instead of an elf holding up samples for passersby to take one from the tray. I’m pretty sure the change in costume had to do with the falling temperatures. “Maybe Pearl should have gone with him.”

  “We might need her here with us if Orwin calls and tells us that Gracie Lynn had nothing to do with Edgar’s murder,” I reminded her, doing my best to resist temptation. No chocolate for me until I’d had a proper lunch, which wouldn’t be until after we visited a few more shops. “I don’t want to be caught unaware if we’re suddenly surrounded by a pack of werewolves, although they haven’t dealt with adversaries like us. We are more than capable of defending ourselves.”

  Good point, dear hexed one. All I am getting a whiff of is that tantalizing chocolate. It does leave me wanting another spot of warm cream. On a side note, in order to put your mind at ease, Mr. Emeric is also more than capable of taking care of himself in stressful situations, especially when it comes to other werewolves. I’m sure that he is more than a match for her pack’s alpha. In fact, I’m fairly sure our wolfman could eviscerate their entire enclave.

  “If we discard the werewolf pack as suspects, we’re left with Gracie Lynn, the wife, and the Wilkes as to who had motive,” Piper pointed out, not resisting temptation. As a matter of fact, she’d grabbed two chocolate candy canes and handed me one. I’m pretty sure she did so in order to ensure that she wasn’t the only one to gain a couple of pounds this holiday season. “Unless we add in the daughter and son-in-law, which we kind of ruled out.”

  I was beginning to wonder if that was a mistake. Our number one rule was that we shouldn’t allow our opinions to cloud our judgement. Knox really didn’t know Vanessa, yet he’d gone with her to the house that was still the scene of a crime.

  “Technically, we only ruled out Abigail,” I reminded her, deciding that I needed a bit of comfort right now. I plopped the entire chocolate candy cane into my mouth and immediately tried not to melt along with it after it landed on my tongue. What in the world did they do different in that shop? I wasn’t comforted in the least, but I did feel marginally better in that I could now face whatever decided to land in front of us. “And that was due to the woman’s sweet disposition, which could be an act. We need to keep her on the list until we’re absolutely positive she didn’t have anything to do with her father’s murder.”

  “Cynic,” Piper exclaimed before Pearl could, who’d gone unusually silent.

  “Pearl?”

  “I hate when she does that,” Piper murmured, licking her fingers before putting her mittens back on. She came to a stop in front of the display window for Go Out In Style. Sure enough, the place was packed for the thirty percent off sale. “Gracie Lynn had to have overheard the business owner making plans for this sale, right? I mean, we’ve already established that she’s not a true witch.”

  Piper had pretty much put a question mark on the end of her sentence. Her wariness went to show just how easy it was to convince others to believe in something that wasn’t true.

  “Go on in and speak with the owner,” I prompted her, pulling my cell phone out of my coat pocket. “I want to touch base with Knox.”

  I waited for Pearl to remind me that Orwin had already conveyed that specific warning before leaving town, but she was still nowhere to be heard. Piper frowned, not happy that her familiar had chosen to disappear while already invisible. It was a feat, and Pearl had done it with ease.

  “We should probably check your bag of yarn when Orwin gets back to town with the Jeep,” I said with a smile that I wasn’t able to stop. The thought of Pearl unraveling and shredding those skeins of yarn was quite comical. Piper’s reaction? Not so much. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. Anyway, go on inside. I’ll only be a minute.”

  I didn’t waste time after Piper walked inside the crowded boutique. Placing the call to Knox took mere seconds, but it was clear by the fifth ring that he wasn’t going to answer. I didn’t bother to leave a message. I’d hear from him soon enough. He would see that I tried to contact him and touch base with me when he had a moment to himself.

  In the meantime, Piper and I would continue to investigate this case as if it were any other. Before I could reach for the door, though, I caught sight of a man standing in front of Gracie Lynn’s storefront. He was looking over his shoulder as he slid the key into the lock.

  Who was he, and what was he doing entering Gracie Lynn’s shop? Clearly, he had a key. It wasn’t as if he were breaking and entering, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to speak with him about the owner. Maybe he could shed light on this whole curse rumor thing that was going around.

  A quick glance inside the boutique revealed that Piper had yet to make her way up to the back of the shop. I held up a finger that I was going to be a few more minutes before quickly making my way down the sidewalk and past the Four-Leaf Clover. I fought the urge to knock on the entrance to Gracie Lynn’s studio, having already decided that I would feign surprise that she wasn’t inside. Still, a bit
of uneasiness swept through me as my hand closed over the doorknob of the old-fashioned style handle.

  The inside of the shop was much as I’d imagined it to be, having witnessed many stores such as these owned by psychics and voodoo priestesses. Some of those individuals were the real deal, actual hedge witches dabbling on the edge of witchcraft, while some were just very good at reading people. Either way, the vibe was always the same—mysterious with an ominous energy that contained a bit of hope. It was all very contradictory.

  A touch of incense hung in the air of the small waiting room filled with comfortable seats and brochures on what services were offered by Gracie Lynn. There were multiple displays of items for sale, such as tarot cards, meditation books, and various crystals. Jewelry was the centerpiece, labeling some for healing, good fortune, and even bracelets that attracted love.

  There was a small coffee and tea area set up on a back table for those who were forced to wait for their appointment. A Keurig was positioned next to a rotating holder of numerous pods offering various eclectic samples. Had I not still been humming from those double shot espressos, I would have been tempted to have myself a cup.

  What, or better yet, who I didn’t notice was the man who’d entered using a key.

  He had to have heard the bell chiming above the door, yet there was complete silence coming from behind the multiple strings of gaudy purple beads. I’m not sure why fortune tellers always hung beaded curtains in doorways to their private reading room, but they certainly seemed to be the staple.

  I’d evened out my breathing as I remained standing just inside the door, listening intently for any sound coming from behind those beads. Places like this didn’t have hidden doors, so I was ninety-nine percent confident that the man was standing on the opposite side of the decorated curtain. I didn’t have time for games, and I had the upper hand with my inherent ability of telekinesis.

  “Gracie Lynn?” I called out, feigning my ignorance of her absence. Just in case the man was peering through the vast amount of purple beads, I walked over to the bracelets and began looking through them. “I’m here for my appointment.”

  The slightest sound of someone shifting their weight prompted the hardwood floor to squeak before once again settling into silence. Little by little, the uneasy sensation of being watched returned tenfold.

  Just what game was this man playing?

  Well, I didn’t want to be a participating player. There was a very easy way to draw out the host, so I casually flicked my wrist. The stack of Styrofoam cups that were on the edge of the coffee and tea table abruptly tipped over, falling to the floor and knocking the strings of beads until they shifted back and forth to reveal the man who had been watching me since I’d walked in the front door.

  “Oh, hi,” I called out as I feigned alarm at the sudden noise. “I think you knocked those over.”

  “I’m not sure what happened,” the man replied, stepping out from behind the strings of beads as if that had been his intention all along. The deep frown lines in his forehead displayed his confusion as to how the cups got knocked over to begin with, but that didn’t stop him from picking them up and setting them back on the table. “Um, the shop is closed. If you had an appointment with Ms. Hauver, you’ll have to reschedule.”

  “Closed?” I asked with feigned surprise. I even took my phone out of my coat pocket for added effect, checking for messages. “That’s odd. I didn’t get a call from Gracie Lynn. She usually lets me know if we need to reschedule. Are you her husband? I didn’t even know she was married.”

  Gracie Lynn Hauver wasn’t married, at least according to Orwin’s initial research. My instinct was telling me that the man standing next to the coffee and tea station was her landlord, especially given that he wasn’t wearing a winter coat. He’d come from somewhere close, and he’d obviously known that she wasn’t inside conducting readings.

  “Husband?” the man asked in surprise. He palmed his keys, looking me over as if just now realizing that I wasn’t a local. Really, though, how many locals came in for a reading? “I’m not married to Ms. Hauver. She’s my tenant. My name is Roy Eisaman. I was, um, just checking on some things while she’s out of town.”

  “You make it sound like she won’t be back anytime soon.”

  It hit me that Roy might have been taking a look inside the shop to see if Gracie Lynn had been packing up her things to move to another site. Given that she was supposed to be moved out in two weeks, there wasn’t a box in sight.

  “You’ll have to take that up with her,” Roy exclaimed, clearly done speaking with me. He even motioned toward the door that I should leave. “Have a good day, miss.”

  There was another way to play this situation, although it did risk blowing our cover story. Roy seemed like a pretty tight-lipped kind of guy, though. I decided to take the chance that he didn’t fall in line with the gossip train around this town.

  “You got me, Mr. Eisaman,” I exclaimed, holding up my hands in surrender. “My friend and I are actually in town doing an exclusive on Edgar Booneville’s murder. A source at the state police told me that Gracie Lynn Hauver was a suspect, and I was hoping to speak with her…maybe even get a quote for tomorrow’s paper. Seeing as you are her landlord, who better to talk to in her place? Do you think your tenant is capable of murder?”

  Roy was definitely taken aback by the sudden turn in this situation, but I’d definitely baited him…hook, line, and sinker.

  “Someone told you about Gracie Lynn’s argument with Edgar over at the diner last week, didn’t they?” Roy wiped his nose with the back of his hand, darting his gaze toward the door in a bit of paranoia. He then pointed toward the ceiling, causing me to look up at a vent. “I heard her chanting that night, you know. I told the police. I don’t know how she did it, but that woman is the reason Edgar is dead. No one can tell me different, either.”

  “What did Gracie Lynn say during that chant?” I asked, wanting more specifics. There were a lot of incantations that could be done with dire consequences, even by hedge witches. There were some powerful spells that even a mere human could cast with the right ingredients. One shouldn’t mess with dark magic, and that included those born into the craft. “Do you remember?”

  “No,” Roy replied with a shake of his head. He pursed his lips, as if simply being in this shop could get him cursed. If only he knew that a Lich Queen walked among us, he wouldn’t even step one foot outside of his house. It was best not to feed into his fear, and I needed to figure out a way to ease his concern about the unknown. “I only know that she sounded like those witches on that Netflix show. The police believe me, you know. That’s why Ms. Hauver isn’t here. They took her in for questioning.”

  “My source at the police station didn’t tell me that,” I confessed with a shrug. I did hold up my phone as if I had some information that he’d like to know. “The other suspect was questioned today, though. My source seemed pretty confident that the evidence was pointing in her direction.”

  “Her?” Roy didn’t seem to appreciate that the police were looking at someone other than Gracie Lynn. “What other suspect? The police couldn’t possibly believe that Norma killed Edgar, do they? That’s preposterous!”

  “Oh, my source didn’t give me a name,” I said with an innocent blink. My phone happened to vibrate with an incoming message, so I used that as an excuse to leave. “I have to take this, but I appreciate you talking to me. I promise to leave your name out of the article.”

  I quickly left, hopefully planting a seed of doubt in Roy’s mind. It wouldn’t do to have the residents of this town believing in spells and witchcraft. The bitter cold hit me in the face, along with a few flurries. What I hadn’t expected was for Pearl to make a sudden appearance. All I can say was that it was a good thing there were slick spots here and there on the sidewalk, because I stumbled over my own Ugg boots at her abrupt arrival.

  “You have to stop doing that,” I muttered in disbelief, pasting a smile on my face as I pas
sed by a mother who was attempting to tug her toddler away from running after the snowman across the street. “One of these times I’m going to keel over from a heart attack.”

  There’s still a chance that could happen after you hear what I discovered after following one son-in-law into the real estate office down the road. I’ll have you know my eyesight is as keen as ever, dear hexed one.

  I continued to walk back toward the boutique while waiting for Pearl to fill me in, but she was in one of those moods where she liked to be prompted to reveal the details.

  Don’t rain on my holiday parade, Miss Lilura. I, too, contribute to these mysteries of ours.

  “I know you do,” I replied softly, having finally arrived back at the boutique. It was still quite crowded, so it was doubtful that Piper had been able to have a private word with the owner. “Spill it. You mentioned son-in-law. Does this have to do with Patrick Lincoln?”

  It certainly does.

  “Hey,” Piper called out, holding up what looked to be a burnt orange cardigan sweater. It wasn’t surprising, given her obsession with anything to do with pumpkins. “If I get a handle on those hats, scarves, and mittens, I bet I could make a killer cardigan.”

  We were just talking about killers, my sweet Piper. You see, you’ll want to move one Mr. Patrick Lincoln up in the suspect pool on your app. While we were well aware from Mr. Cornelia’s research that Mr. Lincoln is a lawyer, we did not know that he has secretly been planning to open up an office right here in Covered Bridge, North Dakota.

  Chapter Seven

  There are quite a lot of moving pieces in this murder mystery, dear hexed one.

  There were a lot of suspects to sift through, and Orwin deciding to bail the town’s fortune teller out of jail was delaying the final reveal. Okay, he’d only gone to pick her up, not technically fork up some money to spring her from a jail cell. That decision had still taken away our capability of discarding suspects just by standing next to them.