Sit for a Spell (The Kitchen Witch, Book 3): (Witch Cozy Mystery series) (9 page)

BOOK: Sit for a Spell (The Kitchen Witch, Book 3): (Witch Cozy Mystery series)
3.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Chapter 17

 

It was an anxious morning at the cake store. There weren’t many customers, so the morning seemed to drag on. I occupied myself with making frosting, while Thyme baked cakes. Ruprecht had said he would call us as soon as the bail hearing was over.

“I wish we could’ve gone to the courthouse,” I said to Thyme.

“We can’t afford the time away from the shop, Amelia, as you know,” she said. “Plus, I would be far more anxious if we were there because we’d make Camino more anxious.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right.” I slathered some cream cheese frosting on the cupcake in front of me.

“Hey,” Thyme said. “You look like you’re trying to murder that cake.”

I waved the spatula at her. “All this waiting around is driving me crazy!”

Just then the shop’s phone rang. Thyme and I both sprinted for it, but Thyme reached it first. I could tell by the look on her face that it wasn’t Ruprecht. “Yes, we are open until five,” she said. “Goodbye.”

“Bummer, I thought that was Ruprecht,” I said sadly.

Right then Ruprecht and Camino walked through the door. I threw my arms around Camino. “I’m so glad to see you,” I said. “Are you all right?”

“Not really,” she said. “It was a horrible experience.”

Thyme rushed over to embrace Camino. “Why didn’t you call us, Ruprecht?”

Ruprecht shook his head. “Camino just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.” He nodded at Camino and raised his eyebrows.

I looked at Camino. I didn’t expect she would be looking happy, but she was white and drawn, even worse than I had imagined she would look.

“That was the worst experience of my life,” she said in a small voice. “The watchhouse was a nightmare. It was cold, and I didn’t even have a pillow or a blanket. There was no natural light. They didn’t even give me any clothes. I had to sleep in these clothes, the same ones I’m wearing now. Can you believe it?” She swept her hand up and down her body.

“Did the prosecution oppose bail?” I asked.

“Yes,” Ruprecht said, “but only half-heartedly. Camino’s lawyer pointed out that she had no motive.”

Camino covered her face with her hands. “I can’t take any more. It’s all too much. I can’t believe anyone would think I’d ever murder anyone.” She dissolved into tears.

Ruprecht handed her a white linen handkerchief with the initials ‘RFF’ embroidered on the hem. I had never seen a white linen handkerchief before, much less a fancy, embroidered one. I dragged my mind back to the situation at hand. Ruprecht was speaking. “Camino, I insist that you stay with me. I’ve taken the liberty of calling Barbara and suggesting she stays in a motel, given the circumstances.”

Caminos hand flew to her mouth. “She doesn’t think I killed her sister, does she?”

Ruprecht hurried to reassure her. “Oh no, of course not, Camino. You mustn’t think such a thing! It’s just that it’s safer if you don’t return to your home, given that the murderer has been inside your home and planted evidence.”

“Do you think it was Barbara?” I blurted out unwisely. I was worried that my words might cause Camino distress.

To the contrary, Camino narrowed her eyes and spoke firmly. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking, and surely the police must be thinking it, too. I can’t believe they arrested me when I don’t stand to inherit anything, and Barbara’s the one who will inherit all of Sue’s estate.”

Thyme took Camino by the arm. “Come into the back room,” she said. “I’ll make you a nice cup of hot tea.”

“That would be lovely, dear.” Camino meekly followed Thyme into the back room, leaving me alone with Ruprecht.

“Ruprecht, you knew this was going to happen, didn’t you.” I said it more as a statement than a question. “I mean, about the police suspecting Camino, even arresting her.”

“Yes, I’m afraid I did,” Ruprecht said. “I saw it all happening in my scrying mirror.”

“What’s a scrying mirror?”

“I’ll explain it all to you later, Amelia. Right now, I’m concerned that someone tried to frame Camino for Sue’s murder. Since they tried once, they might try again.”

“You don’t think they’ll try to, um, well, murder Camino, do you?” I asked, concerned.

Ruprecht shook his head. “I highly doubt that, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

I agreed.

“My main concern, however,” Ruprecht continued, “is that Camino might well have inherited something from Sue.”

“But I didn’t think they were terribly close,” I said, “although they were friends. And what does it matter if Camino
did
inherit something?”

Ruprecht scratched his chin. I imagined he really should have a long white beard like Dumbledore or Gandalf, because when he scratched his chin, he looked like he was trying to stroke a non-existent beard.

“Amelia, have you heard what I just said?”

I looked up to see Ruprecht peering at me. “Oh sorry, Ruprecht,” I said. “I was just off with the fairies—or wizards, to be precise.”

Ruprecht raised one eyebrow, but didn’t pursue the matter. “I just said that Camino told me that she’s been invited to the will reading. That means she has indeed inherited something. Let’s hope it’s only a set of china, or a hat, or a set of cutlery, and nothing more, or else she will have a motive for murder in the eyes of the police.”

“Surely Sue left everything of value to her sister,” I said.

Ruprecht’s eye twitched. “I for one certainly hope you’re right, Amelia.” His tone was grim.

 

 

Chapter 18

 

I swallowed nervously. Thyme seemed strangely calm for somebody who was about to sneak eggs into the hands of a dead woman. Okay, that’s a sentence I never want to repeat. We’d been sitting quietly for several minutes as guests slowly poured in and filled the seats, though no speeches or eulogies had begun.

I’d spent most of the previous night thinking up distractions, but had drawn blanks. I’d thought of movies where they do something absurd like pretend to choke, and I’d considered pointing and yelling and hoping everybody would just look, but I realized now it would need to be something a lot more substantial. There was considerable distance between Thyme and Sue’s body, and she’d need to get there and back again without anybody noticing.

Thyme had somehow talked me into it, but I couldn’t remember how. I understood the idea and realized the importance of finding the murderer, but I wished there was another way to do all of this. I’d never been very good at public events as it was, but causing a distraction seemed like something out of my worst nightmare.

Late last night, I’d given up on ideas and just figured I could improvise. Now, that seemed like the worst idea in the world. I knew I had to do something before anybody got on the stage to give a speech, or they’d have a clear line of sight on Thyme and my distraction would have to be that much more drastic. Doing it while people were still gathering would probably be easier too, but...

“Amelia, if you’re going to do something, do it now,” Thyme hissed. She was apparently more nervous than she appeared, which made me feel somehow better, though the realization that I had to do something overtly embarrassing dashed any feelings of happiness. I looked over my shoulder, and saw that the doors were closed. All the guests had arrived, and they were about to begin the speeches. I decided that I’d have to do something quickly, but before I could, a man stood up and took the stage. He was quite old, and seemed to have a bit of difficulty speaking.

“Hello, everybody. Thanks for coming. My name is Dyson Webster, and I’m an old friend of Sue’s.” He spoke softly, making an effort to move his eyes around the room as he did so. “She was a wonderful woman, and we are all sad to see her leave us. As I’m not from these parts, it does me a lot of good to see just how many friends Sue had here. Before we begin, I just wanted to say thank you for that, to everybody that knew her. They say that ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I apologize’ mean the same thing, unless you’re at a funeral,”—he paused while everybody laughed—“but I truly am sorry that we didn’t have more time to spend with her. She will be missed.” He smiled weakly and walked back to his seat. The main speeches were about to start, and I knew this was my last chance.

I remained standing as everybody else sat down, and then walked into the aisle. “Attention, everybody!” I said, and then I choked. I had managed to draw their attention away from Thyme, but I had no idea what to do now. “I, uh...” I stammered. “I just wanted to say, that... Sue was... good. And I am very sad that she has died.” Nobody moved or made a sound. After a few seconds that felt like hours, people began to turn back to the front, where I could see Thyme had begun to enact her plan. I needed to buy her a lot more time.

“And,” I yelled much too loudly, startling everybody, “before she died, she taught me this, uh, this poem.” I saw Ruprecht raise an eyebrow so high that I thought it would probably cause permanent facial damage.

“She told me that she was very proud of learning it, and that it wasn’t for everybody, but I felt it was so profound and beautiful that it should be shared.” I sighed softly. This was so embarrassing, but I’d come too far to back out now, and it was for a good cause. “So, before the ceremony begins, I’d like you all to hear it.”

I was never a very good public speaker, but I was a much worse poet. To make it worse, I’d never had any real practice improvising anything, much less in such a public situation. I thought back to my ancient history lessons in high school. I tried to remember what the Greek poet, Simonides, had said about Leonidas and the Three Hundred who fell at Thermopylae.

I quoted the epitaph:


Go tell the Spartans passing by

That here obedient to their laws we lie
.”

There was a collective gasp, and some assorted giggles throughout those gathered.

Thyme signaled to me to continue, so I pushed on. I tried to think of another poem, but in the stress of the moment, I could only remember an ancient prayer for safety at sea. Thyme gestured urgently, so I figured I had no choice but to quote it.

“Mighty sons of Zeus and of Leda,

Be with me now as I leave the Isle of Pelops!
Castor and Polydeuces, be kind and appear to me,

you who wander over the wide earth, over
all the sea's domain on your flying horses,
easily delivering mortals from the terror of
death,

as you fly down to the strong ship’s
mast and ride on the cables,
through the dark night
.”

I thought that was not particularly relevant to Sue’s funeral, so I added, “Sue died just like Leonidas and the Three Hundred, and like those ancient Greeks would’ve died if they hadn’t prayed to the gods for safety at sea.” I stopped speaking and looked around the room. Everybody seemed fixated on my bizarre outburst.

I could no longer see Thyme from where I was standing and had no idea if she’d managed her task or not, but I figured I should buy her as much time as I possibly could. I couldn’t remember any more poems, so I managed to blurt out some more awkward sentences using all the flowery language and long words I could muster.

I managed to spout a few more incoherent lines, and everybody stared at me in silence. It was so quiet I felt as though I could actually hear my face turning beet red. Someone in the audience coughed softly, and I wanted nothing more than for this moment to end. Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I jumped, spinning around to face them. It was Kayleen.

“Are you done embarrassing yourself?” she yelled at me. “Some of us have places to be after this funeral, so let’s move it along.” She said it so rudely that I was momentarily stunned. I could see Craig nodding in agreement over her shoulder, although her own husband looked shocked. She then leaned in close to me and whispered, calling me some of the rudest names I had ever heard. In fact, some of them I had never even heard. She then pretended to pat me on my shoulder, but pinched me viciously.

I slapped her across the face as hard I could. She crashed backward into the seats behind her, knocking strangers in every direction. Several people stood up. I knew I’d have to leave. Giving Kayleen a last sour look, I turned and walked outside, hoping Thyme had managed to do her part.

I hugged my arms around myself and sat on the steps of the funeral home’s chapel. I’d hugely embarrassed myself, and what I’d done to Kayleen was wrong, even if I felt she deserved it.
People are going to hate me for that
, I thought,
but if Thyme got it done, it was all worth it
. The commotion inside grew suddenly louder as the front door opened, but quieted down again as it closed gently.

“Are you okay?” It was Ruprecht. He sat down next to me and looked out to the horizon.

“I’ve been a lot better,” I admitted. True, I’d also been worse, but I also hadn’t ever slapped somebody at a funeral. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to do it again.

“Now, you didn’t necessarily handle that in the most elegant fashion, but as far as I could tell, Thyme did her part, so we’re that much closer to catching the killer.” He smiled warmly at me. “It was selfless of you to embarrass yourself for a good cause like that. It was less selfless to slap that woman across the face, but at least that was for two good causes.” He chuckled, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little with him.

“I couldn’t think of a good one-liner,” I admitted with a smile.

Ruprecht turned to me. “A one liner?”

“You know, a line after you do something exciting, like in the movies, or on
Buffy
. I could have said ‘Eat this’ if I’d hit her with one of my cakes, or I could have said, ‘I won’t take this sitting down’, and hit her with a chair, or something.” I laughed, albeit somewhat hysterically.

Ruprecht chuckled with me. “I think you made your point as it is, to be honest. More importantly, we’re much closer to discovering the identity of the killer. I think Sue would have approved of your actions, even if it does lead to a less than ideal reputation around town.”

“You think that people are going to hold this against me for long?” I hadn’t really had time to process how long people might be upset with me over this, but I realized it could be a very long time.

“No, I don’t. Not for long, anyway. Grief makes people do silly things, and Kayleen is immensely unpopular around town. She’s alienated so many people. Plus, we can help steer people away from accusing you of any wrongdoing.” He smiled reassuringly.

I smiled back, but I wasn’t fully reassured. I could handle the gossip and people being upset with me, but I wasn’t sure the business could survive too much of a negative reputation.
This plan had better work
, I thought.

 

 

Other books

How Animals Grieve by Barbara J. King
Sleeping With the Wolf by Maddy Barone
Tea by Laura Martin
Falling Angels by Tracy Chevalier
The Lopsided Christmas Cake by Wanda E. Brunstetter
One Thing More by Anne Perry
Dropped Threads 2 by Carol Shields
Scratch by Gillan, Danny