Witch One Dunnit? (Rachael Penzra mystery) (17 page)

       “Or them,” David said, tentatively.

       “No, no,” Lucinda argued.  “Not
them
.  This wasn’t a group killing.  Somebody wanted my girl dead.  There has to be a reason.  If we find out who did it, we can figure out the reason after that.”

       “Who profits?” David asked. 

       “To put it bluntly, I do.” Lucinda frowned.  “And I didn’t kill her.  I’m the only one who profits financially by her death.  I’ve already insisted the police department be given full access to my accounts.  I don’t want them wasting any time worrying about my financial position.  I have no need of her money.  Her father and I had talked it all out before he left his wealth to her.  This isn’t a case of me secretly losing all my
own
money and wanting hers.  I like having money, but I’m not obsessed with it.  And I certainly don’t like money as much as I liked having my daughter alive!” 

       Her little outburst took me somewhat by surprise.  It was the most emotional I’d heard the woman get since her daughter’s death.

       David frowned this time.  “I don’t think that’s in question,” he assured her.  “But I do think you were wise to place the information in the hands of the police.  There are many reasons for killing, but when there’s obviously wealth of some kind involved, it’s the first place to look.”

       “She had friends from school,” Patsy added her mite.  “They might be able to tell us something she said or did recently that was unusual.”

       “I can’t imagine any customers in the store would have anything to do with it,” I said.  “But a lot of her time can be accounted for by us.  That last day all three of us were here in the shop, and there was no question of anything about the store worrying her.  At least she didn’t act like it.

       “She was laughing and telling us about the woman who was trying to buy herself a grass skirt, believing she could get closer in touch with her spirit guide, a Hawaiian princess, if she did a hula before entering a trance.  They always pick princesses and such, don’t they?”

       “Not Elena,” Lucinda said.  “Her guide is a nobody, barely literate.   Actually not literate at
all
in our sense of the word. “

       “Elena?” David prompted.  “I know Elena.  She suggested that you might need help here.  That’s why I came in to ask.”

       “She’s a member of our coven,” Lucinda told him, without the slightest hesitation, apparently finding nothing strange in his knowing Elena and coming to me for a job without having mentioned it.  “We’re witches, you know.  Well, young Patsy here isn’t, are you, dear?”  Patsy shook her head, blinking a little, accepting what was obviously a rebuke.  “We aren’t a large group; this isn’t a large area.  Rachael isn’t a member.  We hope she’ll join us at some of our meetings, but she seems to prefer to be a loner.  Her aunt was rather like that, although she did join us. We held her in very high esteem.”

       That statement reminded me of how Aunt Josie had sounded in the last few weeks of her life when she mentioned the coven.  Something had been bothering her, upsetting her, about her association with the group of witches.  At least I
thought
there had been something bothering her ... I’d have to think about it later.

       “Was your daughter a witch?” David didn’t seem to be the least bit fazed by the news he was working for a witch, and this struck me as odd.  Surely it wasn’t everyday the average person found himself with a witch for an employer, not outside of Salem, Mass.  But perhaps his acquaintance with Elena was closer than he made it sound and she’d mentioned it. 

       Lucinda didn’t hesitate to answer honestly.  “Oh yes!  Shelly looked simply lovely in her robe.  She had a perfect oval face structure, very much like my own.  It was beautiful when her cowl framed it.  And she was so committed to the Craft.  She even planned to write her own book.  She always got straight A’s in English, and I was planning to see it published even if I had to pay the expenses myself.  Ronnie was going to take photographs and draw pictures for it, so it would be a real family affair.  Ronnie’s my nephew.” she added for David’s benefit.

       “Could she have seen something and written about it, maybe in a journal or diary?” Patsy asked.  “You know, someone doing something they shouldn’t be?”

       Lucinda looked blank.  “What on earth are you thinking of?  If she’d seen anything upsetting, she’d have come straight to
me
with it.  We were very close, not at all like mother and daughter.  More like friends.”

       Personally I thought they’d behaved
exactly
like mother and daughter and not at
all
like friends, which was nothing unusual, and certainly nothing to be ashamed of.  I remembered Shelly’s smug look when I told her that her discount was only for her, not for her mother.  Yes, she’d been the typical rebellious daughter.  That, I’ve always felt, is a good thing.  We become our mothers soon enough without ever at least
attempting
to create our own selves.  On the other hand, I’d certainly seen and felt nothing that could be construed as real enmity between them, certainly not on Lucinda’s side.  She had loved and adored her daughter.  She hadn’t killed her for some obscure, maniacal reason.   At least I didn’t think she had.

       No, I
knew
she hadn’t.  I’d been hit with waves of her anguish off and on since the tragedy, and in none of them had there appeared the least hint of mayhem.  Lucinda might be able to hide her thoughts from me if she were clever enough—and eternally vigilant—but once I received her thoughts, as I had, she couldn’t control them enough to fool me.  It was a rare occurrence when I got into a mind clearly.  If I were going to get anywhere with my gift, I had to learn to trust it in certain circumstances.

       It seemed simple enough.  I was exonerating myself, Patsy, Lucinda and probably Cheryl-the-dingbat.  Poor Cheryl’s mind was as easy to read as a book – a picture
book.  It certainly didn’t hold any dark secret.  That still left me with far too many possibilities, without taking into consideration a total stranger, someone who had nothing whatsoever to do with the coven.

       “Lucinda, can you think of any reason why Shelly would have been in the store in the middle of the night?  Did she have a key, do you know?” I asked, trying to gather some useful information.

       “Oh, she didn’t come in here on her own,” Lucinda said confidently.

       “Why do you say that?” Patsy asked.

       She shot my niece a scathing look.  “Because she simply
wouldn’t
have, that’s why.  She was forced to come in here.  Or maybe she was already ... Maybe she was already
dead
when she was brought in here.  Whatever the case, there’s no way she came into Rachael’s home uninvited.  She wouldn’t have done something like that.”

       I gave Patsy a look that told her to leave well enough alone.  Lucinda’s opinion wasn’t apt to be unbiased, and I probably shouldn’t have asked the question of her in the first place.

       While I struggled with my thoughts and emotions, Lucinda had turned all of her attention unto David.  “I’ve thought of asking everybody I can think of to have his or her fortune told by Elena,” she told him.  “Surely she could see something in their lives to know if they’re guilty.  But both Robert Court, he has the antique store next door, and Ronnie, my own
nephew
, have refused to cooperate.  And of course Karyn doesn’t want to do anything Robert doesn’t approve of.  A number of the other coven members have refused, too.  I could talk Ronnie around, I’m sure, even if I have to go through his father, but now
Elena
refuses to help.  It would be interference, she says, and she never interferes.  With what?  She just sighs and shakes her head. Believe me, I’m beginning to have second thoughts about some of the people I thought were my friends.”

       “I wouldn’t take it too personally,” David soothed her.  “Or as any indication of guilt.  Most of the time we men don’t know what we’re thinking
ourselves. 
It’s a little disconcerting to think of having someone else
tell
you what’s on your mind.  And as for

Elena ... Well, it seems to me that people with gifts – or curses, if you choose to think of them that way – can become extremely stubborn once they find a way they can comfortably live with their abilities. They know what they can handle.”

   David certainly did have a way with women, because Lucinda didn’t argue with him, only gave a disgruntled nod.

   “Don’t you think the sheriff is a competent man?  I met him out fishing a few weeks ago.  He seems capable,” he added.

       “He’s looking for a
witch
!” she scolded him.  “He thinks it’s some sort of ritual thing.  He says he’s looking into all the angles, but I don’t believe him.  Witch hunts are nothing new, and they might take different forms nowadays, but there are still bigots damning anybody who thinks differently than they do.  I don’t trust his judgment.”

       “The police don’t think that way,” Patsy was indignant, no doubt for Joe’s sake.  “They look into anything and everything.  After all, they’re trained for this sort of thing.  They aren’t going to be fooled by this nonsense about a ritual murder.”

       “When you’ve lived a few more years, young lady, you’ll know differently,” Lucinda snapped at her.  Patsy’s mouth opened for a fresh attack, but she seemed to recall the circumstances, and merely lowered her head.  Lucinda took it as a meek gesture.  I took it for what it was.  My niece was lowering her head so her real thoughts wouldn’t show.  Children might have been truly modest in the past, but nowadays a lowered head is more apt to be in preparation of goring you than in submission.

       I leaped into the fray, maternal to the core.  “I don’t think the sheriff is going to close his mind to any of the possibilities.”  Pacify the child first. They’re usually the first to say the wrong thing.  “But I can understand the temptation to pin the blame.  I’m sure they’re taught the obvious suspect is the most likely suspect.”

       Perhaps I wasn’t wise to bring attention to myself.  “What have you found out,” Lucinda turned her understandably touchy temper toward me.  “You haven’t called me to tell me anything.  Are you even
trying?
”

       “I’ve been working on opening myself up,” I assured her.  She would understand the cleansing ceremony and the trance. 

       I noticed that David’s eyebrows had taken a trip towards his forehead.  “Ah, I suppose I should mention that on top of being a witch I also have minimal psychic powers.  I hope that doesn’t disturb you,” I said politely. 

       “Nooo,” he said slowly.  “Your religion is your business.  I’m just going to assume if you get angry at me you’ll just fire me, not turn me into a toad.”

       I knew this wasn’t the proper time for laughter (and so did Patsy) but David had delivered his last line so seriously we couldn’t help ourselves. 

       Lucinda wasn’t the least bit amused.

       “I had great faith in her Aunt’s perceptions,” Lucinda told him seriously.  “Her opinion of Rachael was that she possesses an unusually high degree of psychic ability.  She just hasn’t learned to control it properly yet.”

       That put me in my place.  Her faith was in Aunt Josie, rather than me.  I didn’t know if the idea made me feel better or worse.  I turned back to David.  “I don’t belong to the coven, so I don’t really know any of these people well.  I just inherited the store a few months ago.  Lucinda is right, though, about the fact that I’m an amateur.  I’ve had the power all my life, but until recently I’ve done my best to bury it.  I don’t know if you can understand...”

       Patsy rescued me.  “All of my Great Aunts, along with my mom, used to think Aunt Josie was nuts.  She was my grandpa’s twin sister. Every now and again one of them would call her and she’d pick up the phone and answer with, ‘Hello, Fern,’ or whoever it happened to be.  They had no sense of humor about it.”

       “I think it scared them a little,” I said, in defense of my mother and aunts.

       “Well, it’s human nature to be afraid of things you don’t understand,” David said slowly.  “If you don’t mind a little unsolicited advice, Rachael, I’d be very careful with your powers and use them wisely.  I’ve known a few psychics in my time, and the ability to see into someone else’s mind is not to be taken lightly.”