A Familiar Tail (27 page)

My skin started to prickle, and it wasn't just from the air-conditioning. Something was wrong. I felt it in my hands and the back of my neck.

“Those documents,” I said slowly. “Could Brad have gotten them, I don't know, under the table somehow?”

Ellis stared hard at me. The bluff and hearty real estate agent was entirely gone. This was an executive manager in front of me now, and he looked like he wanted more than anything to fire me out of his particular shark tank.

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, if these documents came to light, could they be . . . damaging?”

“You want to know if they're fraudulent somehow,” said Ellis slowly. Since that was in fact one of the things I wanted to know, I nodded. “You're suggesting my mother may have been committing fraud and that Brad was going to . . . what? Blackmail her?”

“It might be blackmail,” I said. “Or maybe he was just going to give the papers to Frank so he could publish the story.”

I'm sorry, Brad. I'm sorry, Dorothy.
I didn't want to believe it. But after seeing the way Dorothy had so carefully written the people who disagreed with her out of her life, I had to consider the possibility.

No, I didn't forget that Elizabeth Maitland had lied about how she got that letter she showed me. There was another possible explanation for that.

Ellis looked at his desk again, like he was seeing the folder through the dark wood. Slowly, a grim, cold smile spread across his handsome, trustworthy face. I shivered.

“It is possible,” he whispered. “Very, very possible.” He lifted his eyes to mine. “I need to call my mother,” he said. “Find out what she'll tell me about . . . this.” He gestured to the drawer and the folder. “I don't expect it'll be much.”

“Brad . . .”

He shook his head. “If he tried to tangle with my mother, then I'm very sorry for him. She doesn't like to be crossed, as I expect you noticed. It may be . . .” He paused and then shook his head. “Anyway. I need to call her. You'll excuse me.”

“Of course,” I said, because I couldn't think of anything else to say, and I got to my feet and turned toward the door.

“Miss Britton?” said Ellis to my back. “I'd appreciate it if you kept quiet about this. At least until we've talked with Brad. I want to give him a chance to explain.”

I nodded and I smiled and I got out of there as fast as my little black pumps and pencil skirt would allow.

Back in the Jeep, I sat for a long moment, just trying to fit all the pieces together.

Elizabeth knew Dorothy was capable of carrying a grudge. She showed me a letter that suggested blackmail. She said she'd gotten it from Ellis. Ellis did not seem to know anything about it. There was another place Elizabeth could have gotten a letter like that from.

Julia Parris. Julia was ready to defend Elizabeth to the other members of the coven. She had not wanted to take
sides in the old feud. What if she had found out Dorothy had finally carried her old grudges too far? She might have gotten hold of the letter, by fair means or foul.

Or magic. After all, Grandma had called magic “the ways to get and guard.”

I could see Julia taking that letter up to Elizabeth in her lovely sitting room. I could understand neither one of them wanting to tell me the truth about it, because I had been brought here by Dorothy, and Julia was torn in her loyalties, and Elizabeth was wounded by years of distrust.

It all fit, except for one thing. I could not envision any circumstances under which Julia Parris would help cover up a fraud. Especially when that fraud was tied so tightly to murder.

Something here was still seriously out of whack.

I dug my phone out of my purse and hit Valerie's number. I figured Val would spend less time chewing me out for leaving the house than Julia.

“Hello?” Val answered her phone. “Anna, is that you?”

“I know what Dorothy was doing,” I said, to forestall that chewing out I mentioned. “Well, I don't
know
know, but I kind of know.”

“And you've kind of stopped speaking English,” said Val.

“Dorothy was working with Brad Thompson to get hold of a bunch of suspicious real estate documents. Those were the copies he was looking for. Now . . .”

“Anna,” Val cut me off, but softly. “Brad Thompson's dead.”

37

“HE WAS FOUND
in the river. Beside his car.”

Kenisha was reading from her notebook. The coveners and I all huddled together in the front parlor. We'd pulled in every chair from the dining room so there'd be enough seats. Martine was there too. I'd called to tell her about Brad because when you've just found out about a death like this, you kind of desperately need to talk with your best friend. She'd insisted on coming over, especially when she heard the coven would be here too. I mentioned her usually needing to supervise lunch service right about now. Her answer was unprintable.

The coffeepot was out and everyone had a cup, but no one was drinking. Thanks to Roger and Martine, we had plates of sandwiches and pastries, but no one was eating, either. We all just sat and listened to Kenisha read her notes.

“According to the medical examiner, the probable cause of death was suffocation resulting from aspiration of water or other fluid.” Kenisha carefully turned over the page. “Brad was probably incapacitated, maybe even passed out,
when the car went into the river. From the looks of things, he tried to climb out, slipped on the rocks and drowned.”

Didi murmured something and Shannon closed her eyes as if in prayer. I sat on the window seat with Martine beside me. Alistair curled up on my lap, and I could tell he listened to every word as attentively as the rest of us.

“You said he was incapacitated?” asked Val. She was on the window seat too, running her hand across her belly, but I couldn't tell if she was trying to soothe the baby inside or herself. Probably both.

Kenisha closed her book and tucked it away. “Alcohol was definitely a contributing factor.” I noticed how fully she'd retreated into formal police language. “We found the bottles in the backseat. We think he'd been sitting on the beach, drinking.”

Just one more. Just to take the edge off.
Memories shifted and sloshed through my thoughts and I shuddered. Martine saw and laid her hand on mine.

“Has anyone been to see Laurie?” I asked. “She must be devastated.”

“I have,” said Julia. Julia sat in the armchair by the fireplace. Max snuggled up beside her and Leo was sitting on the hearth. “Or at least, I tried to. Colin didn't want to let me in.” Max growled and she patted his head.

“No surprise,” I murmured. Given the way he felt about Dorothy, Colin wouldn't deal well with her old coven showing up after his father's death.

“No, I suppose not.” Julia sighed. “I decided not to press the issue. I can say Laurie is in a very bad way. Her sister's arriving from Philadelphia tomorrow, though, and I think there's other family coming as well.”

“Roger's taking over some food this afternoon,” said Val. “Maybe he can talk to her.”

“Why's Colin so angry?” I asked. In the back of my head, I was hearing Elizabeth's story about blackmail and Brad
Thompson and Dorothy Hawthorne. “What happened between the Thompsons and Dorothy and . . . you?”

“You mean why didn't we help them?” snapped Julia. “Why have the women who declare themselves to be the guardians of Portsmouth failed this particular family?”

“That's not what she meant, Julia, and you know it,” said Kenisha.

Julia rubbed her eyes. Leo whined and wagged and pawed at her skirt. “Yes, I do know. I'm sorry, Anna. I thought we had been able to help. We did try.”

“We cast several protections and blessings for the family,” murmured Val to her teacup. “Wishes for prosperity.”

“And there were a couple times when maybe I should have written up that kid, or Brad, and kind of didn't,” Kenisha added grimly. “Maybe I should have. Maybe if he'd felt the consequences sooner . . .”

“It's not your fault,” said Didi. “Everybody did what they could. I had Colin helping me with some of the houses on weekends. We were all keeping an eye out for ways to get Laurie some kind of part-time income, but it was difficult, with the kids and Brad . . .” She smiled at me. “I heard about the possibility of her selling some of her art.”

I'd almost forgotten about that. I'd tried to help too, and in the end, it hadn't been enough.

At least when Mom died, we had some time. It was hard, it was terrible, but we were more or less ready for it. We'd been able to say good-bye, and when she was gone, we had one another and we were all adults. But Colin wasn't much more than a kid, with a younger sister and a devastated mother.

“I can go over there today,” said Martine. “Maybe get an idea what Laurie needs. Colin might have a serious mad on at Dorothy's . . . friends, but I don't think he's going to turn away his boss.”

“Boss?” I turned to her. “Colin works for you?”

“Just started in May. You didn't know?”

I shook my head. I'd seen him in the signature white cook's jacket, but it hadn't occurred to me that he might be working at the Pale Ale. Maybe I should give up this Nancy Drew life. I clearly was not up to seeing the big picture.

“Thank you, Martine,” Julia was saying. “I think that would be very helpful.”

Martine nodded.

“But
why
is Colin so angry at you?” I asked again. “And Dorothy?”

The women glanced back and forth at one another. I shifted my weight. I didn't want to ask this question, but I couldn't just let it go.

It was no surprise that they all let Julia answer. “We've never been able to find out. I asked Dorothy, but she wouldn't say. We argued over it, but she just kept saying it was better if the coven stayed out of this for the moment.”

There it was again, Dorothy keeping her secrets from her friends. Like she had something serious to hide. Or like she'd found out she couldn't trust them.

Which is it?
I demanded angrily, silently.
Which
is
it?

All at once, a whole series of thoughts tumbled together into my brain, and the pattern they made was not pretty.

I found myself on my feet without realizing I'd moved. “I'm sorry. I need . . . I need you to go.” I hurried into the foyer and grabbed my purse off the table there. I also didn't look anybody in the eye. “I've got some calls coming in. I'm sorry,” I said again.

The women all glanced uneasily at one another. One of the dachshunds yipped at Alistair, and Alistair meowed back noncommittally. Seems that not even the dogs believed me, but everybody got up from their chairs anyway, and they all filed out the door.

All except Martine. She closed the door firmly behind Julia's back and turned to face me.

“Okay, Britton,” she said as she folded her arms. “What's going on?”

I thought about telling her that I couldn't say, or I didn't know. But the set of her jaw told me that wasn't going to work.

I sighed and retreated as far as I could, which was back to the parlor and the window seat.

“You were saying?” Martine prompted from the threshold.

Alistair jumped into my lap, purring and pressing close. I petted his back, grateful for the warmth. He blinked up at me, and I knew what he was saying. I still had doubts about Julia's motivations, and Frank's. Heck, I even had them about Val. But Martine? Not a one. Ever.

“I saw Elizabeth Maitland the other day.”

“You got in to see the queen bee?” Martine sounded impressed. “Well.
Somebody's
the special girl.”

One corner of my mouth twitched, trying to smile. “She sent a written invitation and everything. She told me . . . well, she told me a whole bunch of things. One was that Dorothy Hawthorne was a blackmailer, and that one of her victims was Brad Thompson.”

Martine drew her chin back. I saw her want to ask if I was sure, but she didn't. She just let out a long, slow breath.

“It's not the sort of thing I could bring up with all of . . . them.” I waved my hand over my shoulder.

“The coven,” said Martine. “Go ahead and say it, Anna. It's okay.”

“You know, I've got to get over being surprised that nobody's surprised,” I muttered. “Did you know the stuff they do actually . . . works?”

“I didn't, but I believe it.” I'm not sure how much surprise showed on my face just then, but it was enough to make Martine roll her eyes. “Now, why wouldn't I believe in magic, Anna? I've known about you and your Vibe for years. Not to mention the fact that my mother's parents are from Haiti. I grew up with magic in the air.” She dropped onto
the other end of the window seat. “Have you gotten any kind of bead on what these ladies really think about Dorothy?”

“You mean has anybody admitted their collective BFF was a blackmailer?”

Now I was the one getting angry. Even if Dorothy didn't entirely live up to the good-witch image, it didn't follow that her friends knew about it. I so very much wanted to like these women, even Julia. Maybe especially Julia. She might be stiff and imperious, but she was a good person. But Julia might be lying about more than Elizabeth's familiar.

On the other hand, Elizabeth might be lying about much more than where that blackmail letter came from.

“Talk to me, Anna,” said Martine. “You know you can tell me anything.”

I did know that. I had always known that. I might be making a whole set of new friends, but Martine had known me since we were both in grade school. She was the one who'd been there for every little triumph and every lousy breakup. If there was one person in my life outside my family I trusted, it was Martine.

So, I took a deep breath, and I started talking. I told her everything, from confronting Brad when we both broke in to the house, to how I found out Dorothy really was murdered. I told her about the magazine photo and the clue on the back. I told her about visiting Elizabeth and visiting Laurie, and my scene with Brad in Raja Rani.

I told her about how Frank had gone looking for Brad and how I'd tried my little trick with the automatic writing to do the same, and I saw what happened to Brad. Some of it, anyway.

Martine put her hand on my shoulder but said nothing.

“So, while everybody else was looking for Brad this morning, I went to see Ellis Maitland,” I said. “I was hoping Brad would be there, but he wasn't. I did find a file under the name Dorothy Gale, but Ellis caught me before I could read it.”

“How'd he take it?”

“Surprisingly well.” I frowned. “He's been saying all along that he wants to help Frank. Maybe he means it. Anyway, Ellis said the file was full of real estate documents, and that they were all signed by Elizabeth.”

“I don't get it,” said Martine.

Alistair shifted in my lap. I rubbed him behind the ears, but he wasn't purring anymore. “I don't either, at least not entirely. But maybe Dorothy found out Elizabeth was involved in some shady real estate deals and went to Brad to get confirmation. Either that, or Brad found out and went to Dorothy for advice on what to do.”

“Then Dorothy confronts Elizabeth and Elizabeth kills her?”

I nodded. “Val thought it was Elizabeth from the get-go. You see, nobody could find Alistair the night Dorothy died. They think . . . there might have been a spell cast to keep him away from her, so he couldn't go for help.”

Alistair hid his face under his tail. Martine was silent, but only for a moment.

“What do you think?”

“I think I don't know,” I answered. “Martine, tell me not to do this. Tell me to quit trying to play Nancy Drew and go back to Boston and move back in with Bob and Ginger.”

She snorted. “I am not your pastor, and your brother's already looking after your dad.” She paused. “Maybe I can help.”

“You sure you want to? I mean, this road had been pretty crazy so far.”

“I liked Dorothy, and I like the Thompsons. Besides, Kenisha Freeman's been pretty sure something was wrong for a long time now, and Brad's death doesn't make it better.”

“She has? How do you know?”

She looked down her nose at me. “It's a small town, Anna. Smaller for some of us. Anyhow, she has, but she hasn't got anything to take to the higher-ups. And then there's this lieutenant who's a real hard . . .”