A Sprinkle of Magic (A Sugarcomb Lake Cozy Mystery Book 4) (4 page)

She pursed her lips and shook her head in disbelief.

“What?” Liana demanded, her phone still held to her ear.  “What is it?”

Clarissa stared at her best friend in horror.  “I think this was a hit and run!”

The next day when Clarissa entered the coffee shop, the atmosphere was noticeably different.  People were speaking in low, hushed tones.  Everyone looked somber, and a few folks looked worried.  It was clear that something big was going on in the sleepy small town.

Liana hurried over the second Clarissa walked in the door.

“It looks like you were right,” she said quietly.  “Al Moreno was hit by a car.”

“Is there a suspect yet?’

“No, I don’t think so.  The police are investigating, but it sounds like they’re grasping at straws.  A few minutes ago the police chief himself was in here requesting that anybody who saw anything suspicious go down to the station to give a statement.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Clarissa replied, walking over to her usual booth at the back.  She set her giant handbag down and took a seat.  “I feel terrible for Jo.  She moves here with her father to start a new business and he winds up dead?  That’s so awful!”

“Oh I know,” Liana nodded, taking a seat across from Clarissa.  “We should do something for her.  I’ll ask around and find out where she lives.  We can stop by and take her flowers or something,” she suggested.

“Poor girl, she’s new in town and doesn’t know anyone,” Clarissa said sadly.

“She knows us now,” Liana pointed out.  “Maybe we should get her flowers
and
food.”

“Definitely food,” Clarissa agreed at once.  “Something sweet might be nice.”

“So do you want to handle the flowers, then?” Liana suggested.  “I’ll take care of the food.  I mean, Jo is grieving.  The last thing she needs is for you to give her food poisoning with your terrible baking!”

“You’re a jerk,” Clarissa retorted indignantly.  “I’ll have you know that my baking is not –”

“Good?” Liana interrupted with a smirk.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Clarissa pouted.

“But it’s true,” Liana insisted.  “Your baking is not good.  It’s downright vile!”

“Humph,” Clarissa grumbled.  “It’s not my fault ingredients don’t do what I want them to.”

“Maybe if you actually measured stuff and, you know,
followed recipes
you would have more luck,” Liana suggested with a giggle.  “But hey, it takes skill to butcher recipes as badly as you do.  So congrats, I guess.”

Clarissa didn’t answer.  She was staring out the window at the donut shop across the street.  The brown paper had been removed from the windows.  There were no lights on inside the building, which appeared to be empty.  Outside, the only vehicle present was a police car.

“I wonder if Sam is working the case,” Clarissa murmured, half to herself.

“Ah, the perks of knowing a police officer,” Liana grinned.  “Careful though.  If you harass him too much, he and Amy might not invite you to their wedding!”

“Harassment is a strong word.  I don’t harass Sam.  I just ask him questions,” Clarissa retorted.  It was pretty convenient knowing a police officer.  And truthfully, the way Clarissa hounded him probably did amount to harassment.  But she wasn’t about to admit that!

Just then, none other than Sam Swanson emerged from behind the donut shop.  He was wearing his uniform and he appeared to be making notes on a notepad as he strode purposefully toward his police car.

“Speak of the devil,” Liana murmured.

“Aha!” Clarissa crowed, jumping to her feet.  “I’m suddenly in the mood for a walk!”

She rushed out the door, eager to catch Sam before he got in his squad car and drove away.

“Sam!  Sam!” she hollered as she dashed across the street. 

She was dimly aware of a car slamming on its brakes and honking at her.  Oops.  But there was no time to waste!  She needed to corner Sam now while she still could…she knew if she formally requested an interview for the newspaper, she would be denied.  Sam wasn’t fond of reporters. 

“Careful,” he said as Clarissa raced up to him.  “You nearly got hit by a car.  Plus you were jaywalking.  There’s a crosswalk for a reason, you know.”  Sam was a real stickler for rules.  He could probably afford to loosen up a little, but whatever.

“Duly noted,” Clarissa replied. 

Sam always seemed to catch her doing things she shouldn’t.  He liked to threaten to issue her tickets for various minor offences. But he never actually followed through. 

It could have been that he felt he had to tolerate her, as she was a long-time friend of his fiancée’s.  But Clarissa suspected that deep down the newest addition to the Sugarcomb Lake Police Department didn’t mind her nearly as much as he pretended to.

“Let me guess,” Sam said, cutting straight to the chase.  “You want an interview.”

“Yes please!”

He scratched his head.  “Well this will be real quick and painless.  The deceased is a seventy-one year old male.  He was struck by a car and died instantly of a head injury.  The driver fled the scene.  Right now we’re trying to track down who that driver is.  That’s all I’ve got for you.”

“There was a red jeep parked here around the time the body was discovered,” Clarissa said.  “Who does it belong to?”

Sam smirked.  “You know better than to ask me sensitive details about an active investigation.”

“You don’t know, do you?”

His smirk faded.  “Actually, I do know.”  He didn’t look happy about it.

“Come on, just tell me,” Clarissa urged.  “This is Sugarcomb Lake,” she reminded him.  “It’s a small place.  If you don’t tell me who the jeep belongs to, we both know I’m just going to drive around town until I spot it parked somewhere.  And I’m not a very good driver.”

“I know,” Sam replied with a grimace.  “Do you have any ideas how many times I could have pulled you over for traffic violations?  You really ought to take a refresher course…or just stop driving all together.”

“Stop changing the subject!  Just tell me!” Clarissa pleaded.

“Okay, fine.  The red jeep is registered to Morris Norman,” Sam said.

Clarissa nearly burst out laughing.  “Barbara Norman’s husband?” she asked, unable to hide her amusement.  “Did you go question him?  Oh that’s rich!  Barbara is one of the biggest gossips in town.  Once word gets out everyone will be talking about
her
!”

“But word isn’t going to get out, is it?” Sam asked pointedly.  “Don’t be dragging anybody’s name through the mud, okay?  It looks like Morris’s jeep was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I highly doubt he’s involved in any way.”

“You’re probably right.  He’s obviously not capable of murder.  I mean, his annoying wife is still alive!” Clarissa snickered.  It wasn’t a very nice joke to make, but Barbara Norman really knew how to grind her gears.

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw the corners of Sam’s mouth turn upward ever so slightly.  But if the stoic police officer did crack a smile at her off color joke, it was only momentary.  He quickly reverted back to his serious, rigid self. 

“I should go,” he said, all businesslike.

“Wait!  Were you able to tell anything from the tire tracks?” Clarissa asked eagerly.  “There were tire tracks all over the alley, and they veered off toward the donut shop.   I pointed them out to the officers who showed up on scene.”

“You did,” Sam nodded.  “It’s all right here in the report.”

“You can usually narrow down the make and model of a vehicle from tire tracks, can’t you?”

“If it hadn’t started pouring moments after our guys arrived on scene, we’d have tried that.”  Sam scowled.  “Luck wasn’t on our side.  Neither was the weather.”  He glanced up at the sky, where dark clouds were accumulating.  “If you ask me, I think we’re in for another downpour.”

“My weeds will appreciate that.”

“Your weed?” Sam asked, giving her a disapproving look.  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.  That isn’t legal here, you know.”

“What?  Oh!  No, no!  That’s not what I meant at all!  Weeds – like the ones growing in my lawn!” Clarissa laughed.  “It was a joke,” she tried to explain.  “I was saying that the weeds have taken over my yard.  You get it, right?  It was funny.”

“Mmm,” Sam replied, not even cracking a smile.  “I’ve got to get back to the station.  You stay out of trouble, Clarissa.  And no more running out into traffic, you hear me?” he said sternly before getting into his police cruiser. 

She waited until he was out of sight before darting back out into the street.  This time she looked both ways before she crossed the road.  Yes, she was jaywalking again…but progress was progress. 

Besides, that stupid crosswalk light was way too slow, and Clarissa didn’t have time to spare!

“I’m coming!” Clarissa called as her doorbell rang for the third time.

She hopped out of the shower and threw on her clothes.  Her hair was dripping wet, messy and uncombed.  She quickly wrapped a towel around it before running to answer the door.  When she flung it open, she was pleasantly surprised.

“Parker!” she exclaimed, instantly lighting up.  “What are you doing here?”

“Would you believe I was in the area?” he asked.

“Um…no, probably not,” Clarissa replied.

“Okay, well then how about this:  I missed you and wanted to see you.  Surprise,” Parker smiled before leaning down to give her a kiss hello. 

“This is such a nice surprise!” she exclaimed when the kiss ended.

“I know how busy you are.  I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” he asked.

“Just my shower,” Clarissa told him.  Then she winced.  “Oh, I’m a mess, aren’t I?  Hang on, I’m going to go put some makeup on and comb my hair.” 

“Okay, but you look great the way you are.”

Clarissa beamed at that.  How did Parker always know exactly what to say to make her feel good about herself?  He was like her own personal Prince Charming, sent from a kingdom far, far away to gallantly fight her insecurities away.

“Meow,” said the cat, making a beeline for Parker.

The cat had been ignoring Clarissa all day.  Any time she spoke to it, the little brat acted like it couldn’t hear her.  Any time she tried to pet or play with it, the spoiled beast turned its back and acted like she didn’t exist.  But the second Parker showed up, the cat acted desperate for attention.

“You’re going to get cat hair all over your clothes,” Clarissa cautioned.

“That’s okay,” Parker replied good-naturedly.

Cat was purring so loudly that the neighbors could probably hear.

“The cat likes you better than it likes me,” Clarissa grumbled.

“Impossible,” Parker replied as he picked the fluffy feline up.  “You’re the best.”

“Tell that to the cat!”

He grinned and sat down on the couch.  The cat strutted around atop his knees, jumping from one to the other and then back again.  Sometimes Clarissa wondered if Parker rolled around in catnip before he visited.  The way the cat behaved, one would think that was the case!

“How was your day?” Clarissa asked as she leaned forward, tipped her head and began to dry her hair with her towel.

“Oh, you know…the usual.  Every day at the office is about the same.  I work, my father bursts in and lectures me, I work some more.  But I’m here with you now, and that’s all that matters.  Let’s talk about
your
day,” Parker suggested.  “What did you do?”

“I hired someone to help me with the newspaper,” Clarissa announced excitedly.

Parker’s eyes lit up.  “What?  That’s awesome!  Who is it?”

“Her name is Sarah.  My aunt recommended her – Sarah was a student at Green City University until recently,” Clarissa explained.  “We didn’t have a chance to meet in person, but we talked on the phone for quite a while.  I was impressed.  So I hired her!”

“Nice!  When does she start?”

“Soon,” Clarissa answered vaguely.

“What does that mean, exactly?” Parker pressed.

“She’s not from here,” Clarissa explained.  “Right now she’s living in Green City, but that’s an awfully long commute.  She needs time to find a suitable place to rent in Sugarcomb Lake.  Then, once she’s moved and settled in, I’ll start training her.”

“So it could still be a while before she starts?”

“Yes, it could be,” Clarissa nodded.  “But it’s better that way.”

“Why do you say that?” Parker asked curiously.

“Well I’m just so busy right now that I wouldn’t have time to train her anyway,” Clarissa explained.  “I mean, I know I’m always busy, but this is different.  I’m trying to find out who killed Al Moreno.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Parker teased.  “As soon as I heard there was a suspicious death in Sugarcomb Lake, I knew you’d be all over it.  You just love a good mystery, don’t you?” he asked affectionately.

“I know what we can do tonight,” Clarissa giggled.

“What’s that?”

“We’re going to go pay a little visit to Barbara and Morris Norman.  A little social call, if you will.  I want to ask Norman some questions about his jeep.  And you are going to chat with Barbara,” she cackled. 

“I feel like I should be scared.”

“Come on,” Clarissa urged, shooing the cat off Parker’s lap.  “Let’s go!”

The cat glared daggers at Clarissa as she led Parker outside.

It was her turn to ignore the furry little brat.  Two could play that game.

“Aren’t we taking my car?” Parker asked a moment later as they walked right past his fancy red sports car.  He looked confused…and slightly apprehensive.  Clarissa couldn’t blame him for that.  The thought of having to interact with Barbara Norman didn’t excite her, either.

“The Normans only live a few blocks away,” Clarissa replied.  “We may as well walk.”

“Okay.  Refresh my memory,” Parker said as they began to walk.  “Is this Barbara Norman the woman who demands you write articles about her prize-winning garden every other week?”

“Ugh, yes!” Clarissa groaned.  “She’s relentless!  One week she’s calling me up to come see a pumpkin the size of a small child.  The next, it’s her rhubarb…or her squash…or her carrots.  Do you know she once mailed me a photo of a carrot she claimed looked like Elvis Presley?”

“Did it?” Parker asked immediately.

“Did it what?”

“Did it look like Elvis?” he clarified with a straight face.

“No!” Clarissa laughed.  “It looked like a carrot!”

“That makes sense.”  Parker stroked his chin thoughtfully. 

“She was livid when I told her the carrot photo wasn’t newsworthy.  For a few weeks there, I was genuinely scared of her.  I mean, I would cross the street when I saw her coming!  It was that bad,” Clarissa confided.

“Is she dangerous?”

“No, no…her weapon is that mouth of hers.  I was afraid she would start rumors about me to get revenge,” Clarissa explained.  “I’m not sure she’s above doing that.  She loves throwing people under the bus, so to speak.”

“She sounds terrifying,” Parker concluded.

“She can be.  Try to stay on her good side,” Clarissa advised.

“So you’re saying when we get there, I should compliment her on her garden.”

“I’m saying when we get there, try not to let her corner you for too long,” Clarissa corrected him.  “Barbara Norman is obsessed with two things:  keeping up appearances and gossiping.  She will try to drag information out of you!”

“What kind of information could she possibly drag out of me?” Parker asked, genuinely curious.

“She’ll probably ask you about me…about us,” Clarissa predicted, her face reddening.  “She saw us kiss at the coffee shop not long ago, so she knows we’re together.  I expect she will hound us relentlessly for any juicy tidbit of gossip she can get.”

“She sounds like a lovely woman,” Parker deadpanned.

“Ha!” Clarissa stopped outside a well-kept two-storey home.  “Here we are.”

“Here goes nothing,” Parker said, walking up and ringing the doorbell.