Authors: Rose Pressey
“What can I do for you, young lady?” He placed his scissors down and grabbed the little brush, knocking the hair off the guy in the seat who’d just had most of his head shaved.
The other men sitting around the room glared. I knew they were dying to know what I wanted with Mr. Hanley. Talking in front of them wasn’t something I could do. I didn’t know who knew of the magic and who didn’t.
“I know you were just at the meeting, but I thought I’d check in to see if you’d noticed anything new.” I stared at him, hopeful.
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Elly. It’s got me worried something fierce.”
He leaned against the wall. We still garnered curious looks. “I guess we’re running out of time.”
I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot. All eyes focused on us. I wasn’t sure what Mr. Hanley would tell them about our conversation. Oh well, that was for him to decide.
He continued, “Even if they close the town, it won’t end there. It makes me so damn angry.”
His face and ears grew red. Mr. Hanley had always had a permanent red hue, though, always sweating and appearing as if he’d pop a vein at any moment.
“Mr. Hanley,” I said. “Do you happen to remember anyone from here or a nearby town who gave magical haircuts? The person had their powers taken away about five years ago.”
He tapped his chin with his finger. “You know, now that you mention it… I’d forgotten all about that. There was one lady over in Lexington. She was heavy-set with brown hair. She had a lanky teenage daughter. What was her name…” He rubbed his head as if it was the magic eight-ball and would give him the answer. “Oh yes, Nancy Richards, I believe. Have you heard of her?”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “No, I’m afraid not.” If I could find Tom, then I could tell him about my attraction to the shears in the museum.
“Why do you ask?” Mr. Hanley asked.
I gestured over my shoulder. “I was at the museum and saw the shears.”
He nodded. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t help more. I’ll let you know if I think of anything else.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Mystic Hollow was a small town but obviously, we weren’t immune to lawbreaking. Regardless, I’d try my best to stop anyone from destroying this town.
After stopping in what seemed like every shop, I was exhausted and hopeless. And all alone. Where was everyone? I’d called Mary Jane and Rory but they hadn’t answered. I’d tried everything and talked to everyone but I had still come up empty-handed. I didn’t know what else to do.
The whole trip had been unproductive other than me buying an antique decorative plate. Leave it to me to shop while investigating a murder. My other visits hadn’t really yielded anything, either. Someone had to have seen or heard something.
Sydney said that she’d called in the higher-ups within the Organization. Was that just a an empty threat? I couldn’t take the risk. If she had, I knew that they’d soon close the doors on every business in town. Where would we go? What would we do? Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t realized that I’d ended up in front of The Plaid Peacock. It was the one store I hadn’t been in today. Mystic Hollow’s newest resident probably didn’t have any new information for me, but it was my last shot. Wishful thinking, sure, but what other options did I have? I was on my own and had no idea what do to next.
As I neared the door, the bell jingled and Sydney stepped out. I hurried over and hid in the alley so she wouldn’t see me. The last thing I needed was to have another confrontation with her right now.
Once Sydney had disappeared down the street, I slipped back over to the shop. I peered through the glass, but didn’t notice any movement. I stepped inside the store, but still didn’t notice anyone—no customers and no employees. Magic was strong by the entrance. Had it come from Sydney? I sure missed Kiki and wished she’d come back soon. Why did a murder have to take place when Grandma Imelda and Kiki decided to vacation? I bet they’d be glad they had. As a matter of fact, I wished I’d gone, too.
“Hello?” I called.
A rustling noise sounded from the back room.
“I’ll be right there,” the female voice called.
I recognized the woman’s voice from my visit with Tom. Alice popped out from the back doorway. If it was possible, she looked thinner than when I’d met her. She wore slim-legged beige slacks with a white gauzy blouse. Vibrant-colored bangle bracelets lined her wrists.
“Oh, hello.” She smiled. “I was just eating a snack while taking my break.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I can come back later.”
“No, no. I just figured I’d eat while it was slow. No problem. What can I help you with?” She moved closer.
Now that she asked, I had no idea what the answer was. She’d already said she didn’t know who had come to the store after performing the magic. If she’d thought of anything, she probably would have contacted Tom. Had Tom been back in though? I had no way of knowing.
With some quick thinking, I said, “Oh, I just stopped in to look around. It’s been a while since I checked out the candles.”
What a terrible sleuth. I couldn’t think of one question to ask her. They might as well post an out-of-business message on the Welcome to Mystic Hollow sign.
She gestured. “Well, feel free to look around and let me know if you need anything.”
“Sure thing.” I smiled.
I made my way around the shop, picking up several candles and figurines, then placing them back in their designated spots. Alice watched me. I saw her out of the corner of my eye. Did she think I would steal something? I guess she just wanted Kiki to know that she was doing a good job. When I reached the front of the store, I stopped in my tracks. The shiny object stood out like tofu on Mystic Café’s menu. There in front of me was the same type of knife that had been used to kill Mr. Wibble. It was an exact replica. I’d never found mine, so I’d resigned myself to the thought that the murder weapon had come from Mystic Café’s kitchen.
Now I knew where Grandma Imelda had purchased it. I picked up the knife and studied the raised dots decorating the handle.
“It’s very pretty, isn’t it?”
I tossed the knife down. It made a loud clang as it hit the table. I spun around and clutched my chest.
“Oh, I’m so sorry if I startled you. I shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
What was with the personal space invasion all of a sudden? Maybe I was just being paranoid. Did Alice know that the weapon used to kill Mr. Wibble looked exactly like the one I tossed onto the table?
“It’s all right. I was daydreaming and didn’t hear you. I do that a lot.” I gave my best attempt at a smile.
She reached over and picked up the knife. A chill ran down my spine as I looked at the cold metal blade. The vision of Mr. Wibble behind the Dumpster rushed back into my head.
“Ms. Kiki has several utensils in this style.” Alice clutched the knife tightly in her hand. “Although I thought they were all gone by now.”
I swallowed hard. She was making me very uncomfortable.
“There’s a cake server and knife, too. Aren’t they lovely?” She pointed toward the set with the large knife in her hand.
I looked at my wristwatch. “Oh, will you look at the time. I’m really late. Gotta skedaddle. Do tell Kiki hello for me when she returns, will you?”
“I sure will.” She winked.
I almost tripped over my own feet as I hurried out.
Chapter Thirty-Two
An idea had sparked in my mind on the way back to Mystic Café. I knew I’d recognized the scarf beside Mr. Wibble’s body. Maybe it had belonged to the killer. Just because my visits around town hadn’t produced any solid leads didn’t mean I’d give up easily.
After hurrying back through town as if I was in a race, I made it back to the café. In addition to needing to use my laptop, I needed to check on Mary Jane. I was still on a sleuthing high. No way could I stop without a little more searching.
I turned on my computer and did a search for the designer of the scarf. Within a few clicks, I’d found what I was looking for. I picked up my cell phone and dialed, praying that my friend, Alexia Rogers, would answer. After a few rings, she picked up.
“Am I ever glad to hear your voice,” I said.
“Elly, how are you?” Alexia asked. We’d met in my short time in New York City, and instantly bonded over our lousy ex-boyfriends. “What’s wrong?”
“I need your help. Your friend Max who owns Bliss,
do you think they keep any records of customers who buy the Penelope scarves?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure. I’ll definitely ask for you. She probably won’t be able to provide a name, but maybe a description of the person would help.”
“Anything would help at this point. Thank you so much.”
“What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into? I didn’t think it was possible to get into trouble in such a small town.” She chuckled.
I snorted. “You’d be surprised. But it’s a long story. I’ll call you as soon as I can fill you in.”
That was a lie. I wouldn’t be able to share the magic with her. I’d have to think of another story. I hated lying, but I had no choice.
“I expect a visit from you to New York soon.”
“You got it,” I said.
She laughed lightly again. “Okay, I’ll call you as soon as I find out.”
I tapped my fingers against the table, contemplating what I wanted to do next. Part of me wanted to let it go, but the other part was stronger and won over. I dialed Tom’s number, but he didn’t answer. I wanted to share with him the information I’d found. Okay, I really wanted to know if he’d left me on my own. How could he do such a thing? Regardless, I’d make it through this.
Once I clicked off the phone, Mary Jane practically skipped through the door. Didn’t she remember that we were closing the entire town soon? Why was she so happy?
“I did a Google search and found out that the scarf was sold exclusively at a boutique in New York,” I said when she neared.
“Don’t you think the police have checked that already?” Mary Jane asked.
I shrugged. “I assume nothing now. Anyway, I’m relying on you for my information from the police.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
She gave a devilish grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Anyway, they don’t have a secret weapon like me. A friend from New York lives and breathes fashion. She knows a lot of people and has a lot of connections in Manhattan. She knows this woman, Maxine, who owns a boutique that sells the scarves exclusively and may be able to tell me for sure who the scarf belonged to.”
“Good luck… speaking of New York. There’s only one person who’s from New York City around here.”
I frowned. “Well, not technically. Tom was in New York when this happened. I came back from New York recently and Mr. Smith from the bank told me he travels with his wife to the city frequently. Not to mention, Sydney Whiteman was in New York with Tom. So does that mean we’re all suspects?”
She shrugged. “If it was as clear-cut as that, I guess the police would have figured it out by now.”
“So tell me, what did Sheriff Jasper mentioned about the case? Doesn’t he ever talk in his sleep?”
She blushed. “No, he hasn’t said anything yet. He was tightlipped about everything with the investigation throughout lunch.” Mary Jane was slipping in her gossip abilities. She turned to mush around Sheriff Jasper. “Anyway, I’ll make sure to let you know if he mentions any details. Should I try to slip a tape recorder into the room?”
“Well… if you don’t mind. Okay, no, no, I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble.” I smiled. “Besides, I don’t want to accidentally hear anything that goes on before y’all fall asleep.” I shivered at the thought.
“Very funny.” She tossed a sugar packet at me.
I still didn’t know much more than I had before my whole day of sleuthing, so I had no choice but to open the café again. Even if no customers came in. I had to at least give it a try. Closing up now would only be admitting defeat.
With a loud swoosh of the door, Sydney Whitman walked in. Mary Jane and I fell silent as we stared at her.
“Elly, I’m sorry I don’t have good news. The Organization wants to close the café and all of Mystic Hollow immediately. I think they feel strongly that Tom is responsible for the bad potion and…” Her face grew colder. “That he murdered Mr. Wibble.”
I knew this time would come, but it didn’t make it any easier.
“I don’t understand this whole mess.” I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes and blew out a deep breath.
As much anger as I knew Mary Jane would have toward Sydney, oddly enough, she had a huge smile on her face. She was freaking me out.
“So tell me, Sydney, what proof do you have that I did anything wrong? That Tom did anything wrong? Aren’t we innocent until proven guilty?”
I was feeling spunky, but what did I have to lose? Could things get any worse? I thought not.
“You may be innocent until proven guilty, but that doesn’t mean I can continue to allow you do things wrong while I figure out if the first charge is true. I have to keep you from doing any more harm. And since Tom took off, that leaves you.”
“So your way of solving this is to shut the whole town down while you figure out who did this? And if you never figure it out, well, the heck with Mystic Hollow? Is that the way it is? This town means everything to a lot of people. I know you don’t care, but they sure do. It’s their home. You just come in here all willy-nilly throwing your magical weight around.”
“I can understand that this is hard on you. I really do, but I have to do my job.”
Yeah, well, I had to do my job too, but that didn’t seem of any concern to her.
“I’ve been delaying this, Elly, I’m not sure how much longer I can do that. Especially now that Mr. Wibble is gone.” She looked down, then finally acknowledged my stare. “Look, I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any promises.”
She stepped closer and slid the paper over toward me. “We have laid out plans for Mystic Café. All businesses will stop all magic immediately.” She stared at me, waiting for an answer.
What did she expect me to say? I couldn’t exactly tell her no way, not happening. Did she expect me to jump for joy and say oh, goody gum drops? I would have loved to tell her to get the heck out of the café and not come back. Oh, and not to let the door hit her where the good Lord, well, you know the rest.
The few clues I’d found didn’t instill much confidence. I needed to solve this or Mystic Hollow would be no more. I could deal with the café being closed (okay, I couldn’t), but I wouldn’t let the rest of the town be affected by this. She grabbed her bag and draped it over her shoulder.
When she reached the door, she turned to face me. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded and watched as she hurried out the door.
***
The static rattled across the line. “Grandma Imelda, can you hear me?”
Her words were garbled, but I recognized her voice. “I can barely hear you, honey. Is everything all right? How’s the café?”
She probably thought I was calling to tell her that the café had burned to the ground. In reality, it was much worse than that.
“It’s Mr. Wibble.”
“Mr. Wibble?” She sounded confused. “Did a magic spell go wrong?”
Yeah, you could say that, but I wouldn’t add to her stress. I’d keep that part of the dilemma a secret. “Mr. Wibble is dead.” The words came out as if I’d ripped off a bandage.
“Oh, dear.” Her voice shook. “Are you okay, honey?”
“I’m fine.” My voice began to shake in spite of how hard I’d tried to keep myself together.
“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” she said through the static.
“No, don’t cut your vacation short. I’ll call you as soon as I find out anything. There’s nothing you can do right now.”
“Just be careful, dear, people aren’t always who they seem. How did it happen?” Her words were jumbled again.
“I don’t know.” It was the truth. I didn’t have answers for her. “I love you, Grandma.”
“I love you too, Elly.”
The line went dead. I was lucky that I’d gotten to speak with her for that long. As soon as I’d put my cell phone away, I regretted calling her. I’d ruined her vacation. There was no reason I should have called her. She could have enjoyed her time and then found out when she’d returned. Sometimes I was completely clueless. When would I learn? But her message about people not being who they seemed was true to her usual enigmatic style. I sat there for a minute trying to get my thoughts together. Not an easy feat as of late. Just when I thought one problem was over two more would pop up.
There was no other choice but to close the café. I’d find Rory for support. He always knew the right words to say to make me feel better. It would be tough to find any good in this situation.
As I made my way to the car, someone tapped me on the shoulder and I almost jumped out of my skin. I clutched my chest.
“Sorry to scare you,” Tom said, looking me in the eyes.
My stomach clenched. “It’s no problem,” I choked out. “I swallowed my Tic Tac, but it’s all good.”
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
“Well, I know Sydney told you that Mystic Café is no longer able to perform magic, or any other place in town. It’s for the best, I guess, because I know I couldn’t keep the café open without the magic. The food would be lousy. I can’t help anyone—why would they want to come to the café?”
“You don’t believe that,” he offered.
I let out a deep breath, attempting to calm my frustration.
“Don’t tell me that. I do the magic. I cook the food with the magic. That’s the only way. If Mystic Hollow is gone, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
He gestured toward the café. “You cook the food and then add the magic. You don’t make it any better because of the magic. But Mystic Hollow isn’t shutting down if I can help it. Come on. I have somewhere I think we should go.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I have a hunch about the magic trail and who killed Mr. Wibble,” Tom said with a spark in his eyes.
“You think you know where the magic came from?” I asked.
“I have some idea,” he said with a smile.
“Sydney said you’d left for good,” I said softly.
His eyes narrowed. “I would never do that to you.
I thought I could solve this without causing more problems, but I didn’t leave. I had to visit someone in Lexington to confirm my suspicions. I don’t know why Sydney told you that. I wanted to convince the Organization that I was responsible for the spell so that they wouldn’t close the town.”
“You can’t do that. I won’t allow it.”
He grinned. “Try and stop me.”