Some Like It Witchy (23 page)

A
s we started down the sidewalk toward the Enchanted Trail, a paved path that wound around the village, I glanced at him, at the splint on his nose and the bruises forming around it.

“I
am
sorry about your nose. I thought you were an intruder.”

“I understand.”

“You were the last person I expected to find in my hallway at five in the morning.”

His eyebrow went up. “I can imagine.”

“Does it hurt much?”

“Not since the kind doctor in the emergency room injected it with the most wonderful substance in the entire world.”

I couldn't help but smile at the cheerfulness in his voice. And I truly hated to cause him more pain, but I had to get some answers about this case. “I'm sorry to hear of your mother's passing. Calliope said it was two years ago.”

“That is kind of you. As you know, the loss of a mother is something from which one never truly recovers, no matter how old you are.”

Yes, I did know. “Were you very close? I know she moved when you were in your teens.”

He gave me a sidelong look but answered. “She had a difficult time seeing my father around the village with Eleta,
so she opted to move. She set up a lovely little gift shop in Plymouth and picked up the pieces of her life the best she could. It took fifteen years or so, but she finally found love again.”

“Calliope's father?”

“Yes. John Harcourt was a good man. Patient. Especially when my mother refused to marry him—she had sworn off marriage forever after the divorce from my father. She gave up her powers to tell him of the Craft but fortunately for her, the Myrian charm still held its magic. After Calliope was born, they were all quite happy together until he died of a heart attack when Calliope was in middle school. It's when Calliope and I truly bonded. We both knew what it was like to lose a father at that age. I stepped into the role, which was easy enough to do. She's not that much younger than Lazarus.”

I glanced over my shoulder, at Calliope's house. “It was Calliope who gave the Myrian to Raina, wasn't it?”

“Yes. Calliope was kindhearted enough to lend the charm to Raina after learning of her fertility issues and desperation to save her marriage. Unfortunately, the charm did not work its usual magic.”

“That's because Kent had a vasectomy six months ago.”

Andreus stopped short. “He did what?”

“Snip, snip.” I eyed him. “By your reaction I'm guessing Raina never knew the truth.”

“No,” he said stonily. “She did not. How could he d—” Shaking his head, he cut himself off. “I shall never understand the workings of a mortal mind.”

“Archie deemed him a cretin.”

“I very much like that bird.”

I wasn't sure he'd be thrilled to know it. We started walking again. “Is Finn a mortal?”

“Alas, yes.” He shook his head and looked back toward the house. “Such unions never end well, and I fear Calliope is in for more heartache.”

I recalled what Cherise had said yesterday.
Love is not only blind, Darcy, but deaf and dumb as well.
“How did you explain away your arrest after breaking into the Tavistock house?”

He smiled his charming smile. “That I was just another curious treasure hunter. Finn already thinks I'm a little odd for dabbling in rocks for a living.”

“Rocks?” I questioned, smiling.

“And a few other things,” he said nonchalantly.

Like valuable crystals and gemstones. Mostly opals. All magical. “He must know your link to the heist.”

“He does, but he's unaware that I know for
certain
that the diamonds are in that house. He believes they're long gone, sold off part and parcel on the black market.”

We both knew that wasn't true. “Did you find them the night you broke in?”

“No. They are still in there. Somewhere.”

“How many times have you broken into the house since Eleta died and the spell on the house was broken?”

“A dozen at least, not to mention all the times Calliope allowed me in under the guise of showing the house. I was sloppy the night Nick caught me, in a rush since Calliope had told me of a bid on the house that I could not match. I feared a treasure hunter would come across the diamonds and have no knowledge of their true worth,” he said, his voice light, amused.

I ducked out of the way of a low tree branch. His tone baffled me. “You're no longer fearful of that happening?”

“Calliope met the buyer this morning at the closing on the property and shared with me who it was. My fears have been allayed, as it was not a treasure hunter at all.”

“Who was it?” I asked. He was speaking as though he knew the person.

“Uh-uh,” he chastised. “It's the nature of secrets, Ms. Merriweather.”

“Not this again.” A jogger passed us on the path. “It'll be a matter of public record soon. . . .”

“Until then, my lips are sealed.”

Of course they were. “Did you try to break in again last night?” There had been two burglars, after all. We knew Scott was one, but we didn't know the other.

“I didn't dare,” he said. “I heard it was quite the eventful night at the Tavistock house.”

“You could say that.” We continued to walk for a bit. Then I said, “Why didn't Calliope tell anyone that she's your sister?”

“Would you?” he asked, an eyebrow arched.

“Point taken.” He wasn't exactly beloved around here.

“She wanted villagers to get to know her before the family connection was revealed. Form their own judgments of her first.”

I kept thinking about what Glinda said about the Myrian. “Whoever was trying to frame you knew that the amulet Raina was wearing was connected to you. The only way that was possible is that the person knew Calliope was your sister. Who knows you're related?”

“Finn, of course. Dorothy, Glinda, and Sylar, though he doesn't know of the Craft connection. Dorothy took Calliope under her wing when she first moved here. Helped her find a place to live, found her a job . . . One, unfortunately, that didn't turn out so well.”

“Can you blame Calliope for quitting? Dorothy is . . .”

“Careful now,” he warned.

“. . . vexing.”

“She has her moments,” he said with a smile, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Does anyone else know?” I asked.

“When Calliope offered the Myrian to Raina, she confided the truth to Raina about her Craft and her connection to me. It is possible that Raina did not keep the confidence. Perhaps she told Kent, as spouses often share secrets. Not about the Craft, of course, but that Calliope was my sister.”

If so, it was possible he'd told Noelle. Because lovers often shared secrets as well.

I wasn't quite back to square one, but it was close.

“How does Calliope feel about the diamonds?” I asked. “She's made it seem as though she doesn't believe they are in the house. Was that an act for my benefit?”

“A complete act. She thought if you knew the truth about her being my sister and a Crafter that you would add her to your suspect list. She knew Raina's movements that morning. Knew the lockbox code. Knew the diamonds were in that house. Knew how badly I wanted them.”

Ha. Little did she know, she was already on my list because I thought she'd been having an affair with Kent. After learning that he'd hooked up with Noelle, I hadn't thought much about Calliope being involved in Raina's death.

But now that Andreus mentioned it . . . “Where was Calliope during the time frame when Raina was killed?”

He stopped, looked at me full-on. “Calliope did not kill Raina.”

I was beyond grateful that it was a sunny day. “I didn't say she did.”

“You implied it.”

“I was trying to rule her out,” I lied. “So, where was she?”

His dark gaze narrowed. “At the office, I assume.”

He assumed. If she was there, she would have been there alone. Kent was out with clients and Raina was with Scott,
then at the Tavistock house. Could anyone vouch for her? Phone records, e-mails, anything? It was something to look into. “You never said how she feels about the diamonds. Does she have zero interest in them?”

“I do not like the direction of this conversation.”

“I'm just curious,” I explained as we turned and headed back toward Calliope's house.

“Curiosity can be dangerous.”

He was trying to sound threatening, but the strange thing was that I didn't feel threatened. It was, I realized, an act as well. He wasn't a violent person. Sneaky, yes. Devious, definitely. But not violent.

“Calliope has been taken with the diamonds' lore since she was a little girl and our mother shared the legend with her. Circe's diamonds. Tears of the gods. She is as interested as I am, and as my father was before me, in preserving their true history. They need to be safeguarded by Charmcrafters, as we all believe that Circe was the first Charmcrafter.”

“Oh,
safeguarding
. Right,” I drawled. “That's your only interest in the diamonds?”

“Your impertinence is immeasurable.”

“I hear that all the time.”

“I am not surprised.”

“And just how are the
both
of you planning to safeguard this invaluable treasure? Divvy it up?”

His lips tightened. “The power of the diamonds is so immense that division will not devalue them.”

Wonderful. Two people with unlimited powers.

We came off the trail and headed up the street to where Cherise was still waiting. I saw no sign of Glinda or Calliope or Finn.

“It's too bad you didn't find them,” I said sarcastically.

“Yes,” he murmured.

“Did you ever try asking Eleta where they were?”

“I was never able to get close enough to her. The spell she put on the house was one of the most powerful I've ever
encountered. As a Geocrafter, she drew from the earth around the house to maintain the spell's power. Within the past few years, I sent letters hoping that time had softened her stance and that she would meet with me, but they were returned.”

“I heard she didn't want anyone to ever find the diamonds because of the heartache they caused her. She didn't want anyone else to feel that pain.”

Again, he stopped and stared at me. “Do you suppose she considered the Abramsons' pain when she killed their daughter?”

Put that way, my reasoning did seem out of sorts.

I tipped my head in consideration, recalling Pepe and Mrs. P's conversation about Eleta. How one thought she'd hidden the diamonds to prevent future heartaches, the other thinking it was to save her own skin. Maybe, as Pepe had said, it
had
been both.

“Perhaps her decision to never reveal the location of the diamonds stemmed from that incident,” I said. “She saw what happened to your father. She knew what she had done to Jane . . . It was her way of atoning.”

“Not only is your impertinence immeasurable but also your naïveté. Not everyone has redeeming qualities, Ms. Merriweather. Sometimes people are simply evil.”

I thought of what Mimi had asked last night.
Can people be both good
and
bad?

“I think most do have redeeming qualities,” I said, watching him carefully. It was, after all, why I was standing here with him.

“Then I feel sorry for you,” he said.

“And I feel sorry for you.”

We were at a standoff.

Finally, he said, “We shall agree to disagree.”

“Fine with me.” We headed for Cherise. “By the way, do you know who your father's accomplice was?”

“I do not know.”

So much for that.

“Like most everyone else, I knew nothing of the heist until after the fact. My life was fairly normal for a Crafter until that day,” he said quietly as we headed up the walkway. “Then it wasn't.”

Cherise stood up, dusted off her pants, and handed me back the folder. She looked expectantly between us.

Andreus bowed. “Now, if you'll excuse me, ladies.”

With a sharp pivot, he climbed the stairs and went into the house.

“Well?” Cherise said.

“I'll tell you all about it on the walk back.”

As we started up the sidewalk, Cherise said, “Is it wrong that I find Andreus sexy, broken nose and all?”

Here we go again. She and Ve would be playing tug-of-war with Andreus before he knew it. “Yes,” I said.

She laughed. “You're right, but I can't help it.”

“Ms. Merriweather?” Andreus called out. He'd come back out of the house and stood on the front steps.

I turned back to face him.

“Those photos . . .”

I held the file close to my chest. “What about them?”

“If it's no trouble, could you make duplicates? I—I have no pictures from back then.”

That look was back. The hollow one.

I nodded.

As we started back on our way, Cherise poked me with her elbow. “You're a big ol' sap, Darcy Merriweather.”

She probably wouldn't be surprised to learn that it wasn't the first time I'd heard that.

W
hen I arrived back at As You Wish, Ve was sitting at the kitchen counter, a half pitcher of margaritas at her elbow. I'd spent the past hour with Harper, telling her all about my day so far, starting with Andreus and ending with Andreus.

Her reaction to Ve's new relationship had been the same as my own.
Ew.

And we'd debated who killed Raina for a while.

We both kept coming back to Noelle or Calliope.

They were the only ones with no alibi.

Both had very different yet strong motives. And opportunity to commit the crime because both knew Raina's propensity to be early, the lockbox code, and knew the crime could be framed on a treasure hunter.

Noelle could have easily identified the Myrian charm as a piece possibly made by Andreus, especially if she had learned he and Calliope were siblings. It would have been easy enough to try to pin the crime on him, knowing his father had stolen the diamonds.

I was stumbling a little with trying to come up with a reason why Calliope would frame her brother, unless she was using it as a diversion, knowing he'd be cleared.

I doubted Calliope would be amenable to police questioning, but it was inevitable that she would have to sit down
with Nick. I wished him nothing but luck with that. He'd probably have a better chance with loose-lipped Finn.

“Rough afternoon?” I asked Ve, eyeing her glass.

“You don't even know,” she said, topping off her drink. “My day's been hell. My morning? Just . . . surreal. Then, do you know where I just came from?”

I shook my head.

Ve gave me a wry look. “From apologizing to Dorothy. I might never recover.”

“Drink up,” I said, wishing Cherise was here in case a calming spell was needed. She'd had errands to run, however, then promised to come back to take a look at the photos.

“Exactly.” She gulped her drink.

“Maybe just a little bit slower than that,” I said, crouching down to pet Missy.

“I ran into Godfrey today,” Ve said. “He told me all about your visit last night. I remember Scott Abramson. Nice kid.”

“Nice guy,” I said. “An FBI agent.”

Ve straightened. “Not a TV show producer?”

“That was a ruse. He has no connections to TV business at all.”

Suddenly, she came to life, sitting up straight, her eyes bright. “Can I tell Dorothy?”

“If it helps speed your recovery have at it,” I said, setting the file on the counter.

“I am feeling better all of a sudden.”

I slowly took the photos out, laying them side by side on the counter.

“What have you there?” Ve asked.

“Hopefully a clue in a haystack.”

“Either I'm drunk or that made no sense.”

I smiled. “A little of both, I think,” I said, explaining how I hoped to pinpoint who the elusive accomplice was.

“These are like a trip down memory lane,” she said, examining the photos.

“Do you recognize anyone at the funeral?” I asked, handing her the picture.

“Oh, how sad Andreus looks.”

I knew where I got my sappiness from.

“Lots of people,” she said, listing names. “Stacey, Mark, Harold . . .”

Missy went to the back door and scratched to be let out. We tended to keep her dog door closed more often than not. It limited her escapes. I pulled open the door and saw Nick coming through the gate.

It was as if Missy had a sixth sense about him, I swear.

Nick stepped in, gave me a kiss.

“And Carla, Trevor, Matthew, oh, there's Godfrey!” Her words had started to slur, syllables running together.

He said, “Do I want to know?”

“Alcohol-fueled trip down memory lane,” I said, heading into the kitchen.

“And William, and Phillip, and Marcia.”

Wait. What?

Phillip?

“Ve!” I cried.

Looking startled, she said, “What? What'd I do?”

“You said Phillip. Which one is he?” I asked, leaning over her shoulder.

She shook her head. “I didn't say Phillip. I don't know a Phillip. Which is kind of strange when you think about it. I
know a lot of people and not one named Phillip? It's not an unusual name. Isn't there a Prince Phillip?”

I pushed her margarita glass toward Nick. “What did you say, then?”

“When?” she asked.

Oh dear God. “A minute ago . . . William and Phillip and Marcia?”

She stared at the photo, pointing as she went along. “William, Phillip, Marcia.”

“You said it again,” I cried. The man she tapped as Phillip looked familiar.

Confused, she looked at me, her forehead dipped low. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

I glanced at Nick for help.

Smirking, he said, “I'll have what she's drinking.”

“Big help.” I pointed at the photo again. “This guy, Ve. Who's he?”

“Phillip,” she said. “Took me on a date once and tried to go all the way with me.” She giggled. “I let him.”

“I'm going to need a memory cleanse after today,” I muttered.

Nick was trying hard not to laugh. “I don't think Ve's saying Phillip. It just sounds that way because of the slurring.”

“Spell his name,” I said.

Looking at me like I was an idiot, she said slowly, “
F-L-I-P
.”

Flip. I wanted to bang my head against the countertop. “I'll never get those five minutes of my life back.”

“Did I tell you he took me on a date?” she asked.

“Yes!” I said quickly.

Nick patted my shoulder.

“Flip,” she repeated. “Turned out he was a flop. A big ol' flop.” She eyed her lap and wiggled her eyebrows.

“You're going to need to make that two memory cleanses,” Nick said.

I dropped my head against his chest and nodded.

“Felix. Feeeee-lix,” Ve said in a hoity-toity tone.

“Who's Felix?” I asked, suddenly on high alert. It was Andreus's middle name. The name that had been nagging me.

“Flip!” she said. “Aren't you paying attention?”

I wished I wasn't.

Nick said, “Is Felix Flip's real name?”

Ve snapped her fingers. “You got it.”

I met Nick's gaze. “What if Jane Abramson made the same mistake I did? Thinking Sebastian was saying Phillip when he was really on the phone to Flip? If Sebastian's back was to her, she might not have heard clearly.”

Nick nodded. “I can see it.”

“Was Flip a good friend of Sebastian Woodshall?” I asked Ve.

She held up two entwined fingers and stared at them. “Like this.”

He had to be the accomplice. “What happened to Flip?” I asked my aunt. “Is he still in the village?”

“No,” she said, still staring at her fingers, opening and crossing them. Opening and crossing. “Moved a long time ago. He's a Lawcrafter. I wonder if he's single now. And if he's still a flop.”

A lawyer! That was where I'd seen the name. It had been in a caption on a photo of Eleta and her lawyer shortly after the heist. Felix Blackburn.

I scanned the pictures on the counter, looking for the shot. Aha! I held it up. “Is this Flip?”

“That's him.” She made a face. “I forgot how big his honker was.”

I studied him, and it took only a second for recognition to hit me hard and fast.

“Darcy?” Nick asked. “What is it?”

I sent more gratitude to Starla for the color pictures.

“I've been played a complete fool.” I held up the photo. “Who's he look like? The hooked nose? The red hair?”

Nick let out a breath. “Finn.”