Never Say Dye (A Sibyl Potts Cozy Mystery, Book 3) (11 page)

“A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, as if supported by the rays of the sun, a bird settled on the fire escape, joy in the task of coffee, joy accompanied me as I walked.”
(
Anais Ni
n
)

Chapter Twenty
.

I could not help but smile when I walked through the doors of the hospital, and saw Blake waiting there.

“I thought Mr. Buttons and Cressida were coming for me.”

“They don’t care that much for you, so I offered to come pick you up,” Blake said, his tone teasing.

“I don’t believe that for a second. Mr. Buttons is in love with me, you know.”

“I’m in love with you too,” Blake said, and then we both laughed, but I wondered if there was any truth to the statement.

“Is my dog okay?” I asked.

Blake raised his eyebrows at me. “She is.” He opened the passenger door for me and shut it when I was inside. He then hurried around the car and dropped in behind the wheel. He looked at me as he slid the key into the ignition and turned it. “Your bird is still fine, too.”

I shrugged. “Can’t win them all, I guess.”

“You were only in there a few hours. Did you think your dog was going to go crazy with sadness?” Blake asked.

I laughed and shrugged.

“How are you feeling?” Blake asked as he backed his squad car out of the parking space.

“Okay, I guess. I feel pretty dumb.”

I had broken a drinking glass at home, and when it had shattered, a piece had cut my hand pretty badly. I had needed ten stitches altogether. What I hadn’t told anyone, was that at the time, I had been remembering when James had attacked me and almost thrown me out of the window.

“You’ll be happy to know he’s still in custody,” Blake said, and I looked sideways at him. He always knew exactly what was going on in my head, and it frightened me a bit. Did he know that I’d cut myself accidentally, because I was having some strange sort of post traumatic stress flashback? I wasn’t sure, but it seemed as if he did.

I nodded and looked out of my window as we pulled from the hospital parking lot and out onto the road. “I wish that would bring back the woman he murdered.”

“You know the crazy thing?” Blake asked. “I’m not even sure the kid believes in ghosts.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“I don’t know; it’s just this feeling I have. I think he liked Sue, and it was a way to get close to her, and then it became about the money. I’m sure Sue believed in ghosts - she wanted to find a ghost and get it on tape. James just knew how much money that would get. It’s what he latched onto.”

“So he loved her at one point, but then he loved the idea of getting rich?” I asked.

“I think so.”

There was nothing but silence in the car for a few minutes, and then I spoke up. “What about Dorothy? Why all the lies?”

“I looked into it. As far as I can tell, she simply wanted to distance herself from her family. Her sister is James’s mother. I don’t know, though; she’s a hard woman to talk to.”

“I thought she was a killer, but she turned out to be a victim in a way. Her nephew knew we would suspect her. You know, I wondered for ages why the killer didn’t remove the bottle of poisoned hair dye – James was obviously hoping it would be found, and Dorothy would get the blame.”

Blake agreed. “And he had no idea that anyone else would use the hair dye. Cressida was the only other woman living at the boarding house, and she had her own bathroom. James wasn’t to know that the plumber would be renovating Cressida’s bathroom at that very time.”

“He’s disgusting,” I said.

“You’ve met a few killers recently,” Blake said. “Surely they were all disgusting?”

I laughed, but it was a sad laugh, quiet and short. “That’s true,” I said with a sigh. “Listen, let’s stop talking about all of this stuff. And I’ll give you a million dollars if you stop and get me a milkshake. I’ve wanted one for five days now.”

“You don’t have a million dollars, and you weren’t in the hospital for five days; it was four hours,” Blake said, shaking his head.

“Okay, I’ll give you my respect, and it doesn’t have anything to do with being in the hospital; I’ve just wanted a milkshake for a while.”

Blake laughed. “You already respect me.”

I had to laugh. “Says who?”

“Your eyes.”

I shook my head in mock disgust. “Oh, you’re so corny. Please stop for milkshakes.”

“Yes ma’am,” Blake said. And so he did, and we sat in the parking lot of McDonalds and drank them. We talked about everything but James or the window or Dorothy, and when our cups were empty, Blake took me back home.

I knew Mr. Buttons and Cressida would be concerned about me, and would be expecting me to go to the boarding house as soon as I got home, but they would ask me the same questions, and fret over me, and I didn’t want that, not at that moment. I had Blake drop me off at my cottage. I waved goodbye with my good hand and watched him drive off, and then I went inside. I took a long shower as best I could, while keeping my stitches dry. I changed and then walked outside, toward the boarding house.

When I entered the house, Mr. Buttons and Cressida were in the front hall, waiting for me. They smiled and hurried to me.

“We missed you,” Cressida said.

“It was four hours,” I said.

“We know, but this place is dreadfully boring without you, dear,” Mr. Buttons said. “It really is. There hasn’t been a mystery to solve or anything.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I think I could use a break from mysteries,” I told the British man.

Mr. Buttons looked affronted. “Surely you can’t be serious.”

“Okay, well as long as the next one doesn’t start with a murder, I guess I could go for a mystery.”

“That’s the spirit,” Mr. Buttons said, and we all laughed.

* * * * The End * * * *

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* * *

Watch for
Book FOUR
in the
Sibyl Potts Cozy Mystery
series.

A Matter of Wife and Death
.

There hasn’t been a murder in weeks, so Sibyl and her friends, Cressida Upthorpe and Mr. Buttons, breathe a sigh of relief. Yet no sooner have honeymooners, a famous businessman and his wife, booked in to start their married life in bliss, when a tragic accident befalls one of them. The council authorities move to shut down the boarding house for safety reasons.

The media focus their attention on the husband, believing he was the target, and protesters move to town to rally against the husband’s company, which is destroying the local wilderness land.

What with Blake’s ex-girlfriend coming back to town, and a rival boarding house opening up nearby, can Sibyl keep a cool head, solve the murder, and save the boarding house from the local authorities?

* * *

You might also enjoy Morgana Best's #1 Best Selling series: The Misty Sales Cozy Mystery Series.

Book ONE in the
Misty Sales Cozy Mystery Series
.

A Motive for Murder

Misty Sales is a slightly overweight journalist for a paranormal magazine in Australia. While her social life is almost non existent, she does have one skill: while wearing shapewear and with her reading glasses perched on her nose, she can out-research the best of them, especially when her caffeine levels are high.

When sent to England to write articles about alchemists of the past, Misty has no sooner arrived than she finds the body of her elderly Aunt, and at once inherits her Aunt's feisty cat, Diva. Misty is suddenly drawn into a web of intrigue, secret societies, and the mystical.

What secret of her aunt's gave someone a motive for murder?

As time runs out, Misty races to put the pieces together before she becomes the next victim.

Book TWO in the Misty Sales Cozy Mystery series.

A Reason For Murder.

What do Voodoo spirit bottles have to do with the ghosts in an Australian touristy village? Plenty, as Misty Sales discovers to her detriment. Morpeth, once an early river port of Australia but now famous for its ghosts, plays host to Misty's latest mystery. Misty Sales, journalist for a paranormal magazine, is back from London, having been made Keeper of a Society about which she knows nothing. Her caffeine habit is out of control, as is her job security, and her cat, Diva, is more unpredictable than ever. Even Misty's life is left in the balance, as her Editor sends her to write about the ghosts of Morpeth. In danger, in shapewear, and in debt, Misty matches wits against an unseen enemy. He attacks Misty with natural and unnatural means, while Misty hits back hard with facts.

Book THREE in the Misty Sales Cozy Mystery series.

A Basis for Murder
.

It's Welsh Druids meets an ancient Australian evil in Misty's latest mystery. Misty finds out more about the Society of which she is Keeper - but can she trust the men in her life? Sent to the Australian village of Hillgrove which has a violent history, Misty is marked by an ancient evil to become Hillgrove's latest victim.

As soon as Misty sets foot in town, she finds her contact has died suddenly. The police rule it as an accident, but Misty is not so sure. Misty has to multi task to fulfill her assignment and somehow manage to stay alive as two categories of killers, human and non-human, close in on her.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Morgana Best lives in country Australia, and is owned by one highly demanding cat and two less demanding dogs. She runs an animal sanctuary not-for-profit.