Gone With the Witch (20 page)

Mrs. P sat with a heavy sigh and put her head in her hands.

I rolled my eyes. “I'm going to head out before I witness any more bloodshed. Thanks for everything.” I kissed Godfrey's cheek and the tops of Mrs. P's and Pepe's heads.

It had started to sprinkle by the time I walked out of the store, the rain spitting from the sky in random bursts. I glanced over my shoulder at the shop.

I had been so certain there had to be a Craft that
could animal morph, but if Pepe swore on his honor that there wasn't, then I believed him. He held his honor in the highest regard.

What was more curious to me at this point was why none of them had debunked my notion that the Elder had been the bird.

It was very curious indeed.

A
lina Norcliffe looked very much like her sister. The same long dark hair, the same triangular face. Thin and petite, she roamed around Natasha's living room, adding items to three piles she had created on the floor.

Sell. Keep. Donate.

The sell pile was overflowing.

The donate pile was laughably small.

The keep pile was mournfully minuscule.

Apparently, Alina wasn't much for sentimentality. Or respectful mourning periods.

The studio apartment was tiny but cluttered. One quick glance was all it took to see the whole place. Kitchen, bedroom, dining space. A tiny bathroom was behind me, and clothes spilled out of a closet near the bed.

“Don't you have to wait for probate before selling Natasha's things?” I asked, wincing as she tossed books into the sell pile.

She wore a long flowing halter-style maxi dress and too much perfume. The scent was making my eyes water. When I knocked, she'd given me a long once-over, and I was relieved that Godfrey had worked his magic on me. Although I wore simple jeans and a blouse, they must have been designer quality, because she had nodded in approval. I could only imagine what her look would have been if I'd showed up in what I had been wearing.

Gold bracelets clinked on her arm as she made a sweeping motion with her hand. “It's all mine. My books, my furniture, my everything. I pay the rent, the utilities. Natasha made scraps at the playhouse. What she earned barely covered her food and makeup costs.”

The makeup, I imagined, had cost more than the food by far.

Alina picked up a toy mouse and tossed the faux critter at me. “I suppose we should get to the reason why you're here. Titania. She's a very valuable cat. I paid for her, so I should know.”

“She's
your
cat?”

“She was a gift to my sister. Natasha didn't particularly care for cats, but she believed Titania would help her break into the acting business. Titania has an audition with a talent agent next week in Hollywood, you know.”

The mouse was the only cat toy I could see. Not scratching tree, no feather-on-a-stick, no bed. I recalled how Annie craved my attention, and I grew angry on her behalf.

Do not show my hand, do not show my hand.
“You'll be taking over her career, then? Wonderful. I can't wait to see her on TV.”

“I actually haven't decided yet. . . .” She eyed me.

I suddenly realized Godfrey had been right. Alina didn't want Titania. At all. She was feeling me out to
see how interested I was in adopting the cat—and how much money she could charge me to do it. I almost did a little jig right there on the sofa.

I decided it was time someone turned the tables on the con artist.

That someone was me.

“Well, she's a beautiful cat—that's for sure. She doesn't really like to be touched all that much by strangers, but that shouldn't be too much of an issue if you're there with her to calm her down. I'm sure show business people are used to being scratched.”

“Scratched?”

I showed her the marks on my arm that Clarence's nails had left behind, and she recoiled.

“I would have brought her with me,” I went on, spinning a web, “but the less jostling for her right now, the better. Her stomach has been unsettled since leaving the Wisp, and—lesson learned—I've been keeping her confined to the bathroom for easier cleanups.” I wrinkled my nose as I lied through my teeth. “I'm sure the stains will come out of the rugs with a little elbow grease. Or at least I hope so. The smell, though . . . that'll take time. You can pick her up when you're ready to head back home.”

Horror flashed in her eyes.

I kept tight hold of the mouse toy as I said, “I've been holding off on calling a vet, because I think maybe the stomach upset is just from the distress of being moved around so much. Do you know if she gets like that every time she travels?”

“I—I don't know. Natasha never mentioned anything.”

I tipped my head. “You might want to be certain before taking her on a plane.”

She sat on the arm of a chair, and her shoulders slumped.

“Or perhaps it's her new diet. She might have a particular kind of food she likes better than the type I had on hand.” I silently apologized to Annie for making up all these lies. “And you'll probably want to buy some absorbent pads at the Furry Toadstool to line the cat carrier for the ride down to the Cape. Just keep the windows down, and I'm sure you'll be fine.”

Thin penciled eyebrows dipped down in dismay and panic. “I don't think Titania would like my house. We have dogs. Big dogs. Guard dogs.”

Somehow I doubted she had dogs at all.

“Does the Furry Toadstool have an adoption service?” she asked.

I bit back a smile as she flopped around in the web I'd woven. “No, they don't. If you don't want her, I'm sure the local shelter would take her in. It's a no-kill shelter, so that's a plus. They charge a small intake fee, but it's pennies, really.”

“A fee to drop off a cat?”

“It's a nonprofit organization, and it costs to house and feed an animal. It's not that much, really. Twenty dollars, I think.” She'd probably paid that much for only one of her fake eyelashes.

“Yeah,” she murmured, looking as if she'd knock Tiny Tim's crutch out from beneath his hand if she passed him on a street corner.

“You could always sell her online,” I said, hating the words I was speaking. “But that'll take some time to get the ad together, interview potential adopters, that kind of thing. And of course, you'd have to disclose any of her foibles, like the scratching, or risk being sued.”

I had no idea if she could actually be sued for such a thing, but knew the thought alone would hurt her where it counted most. Her pocketbook.

“There are
no
other options?” she asked, the hint of a cry in her voice.

“Does Natasha have a friend here in the village who'd take her? It would probably be the easiest transaction of all.”

She sighed. “Not really. Just Chip the cheapskate, and he's allergic.”

“Cheapskate?”

The bracelets clinked again as she waved her hand. “Just Natasha's nickname for him. They dated for a while, but he was a penny pincher.”

“And Natasha wasn't a penny-pinching type of girl.”

“Not at all. There was chemistry between them, but they were never going to last as a couple if he wasn't going to spend a little money on her.”

I stared at the toy mouse. “Perhaps you can ask Baz if he'd take Titania. Seems he was close to Natasha.”

“He hates cats. He was trying to get Natasha to get rid of Titania before they married.” Alina smiled. “He stood no chance in that argument.”

“Why? If Natasha didn't like cats all that much, either?”

“Because if things turned bad with Baz, she still had Titania to fall back on.”

I squeezed that tiny mouse so tight I thought its head might pop off.

“She needn't have worried,” Alina said breezily. “Baz stood no chance in
any
argument. He was so smitten . . . it was almost embarrassing. I warned Natasha not to get involved with him, despite his money, but she wouldn't listen. All she saw was her ticket out of here. And now she's dead, so it seems I was right. She rarely listened to me.”

It seemed to me that Alina was more upset at the fact her sister never listened to her than at the fact she was dead.

I'd never been so grateful for my relationship with Harper in all my life.

“Why the warning in the first place?” I asked.

“He had too much baggage,” she said. “Too many women. Serial cheaters do not make good spouses, especially when he was chattering about prenup agreements. She might have dumped him, too, if the threats hadn't started.”

“He threatened her?”

“Not him. I assume it was his wife. Natasha's car had been keyed, her house broken into and notes warning her to stay away from Baz found on her bed, and she felt as though she was being followed.”

“When was all this?” Glinda had been following her for a while, so that could be explained. But not the other incidents.

“Right after she started dating him,” she said. “A month or so ago.”

“Did she go to the police?”

Alina laughed. “Hell no. She accepted the challenge! There's nothing she enjoyed more than competition.”

I'd seen that myself at the Wisp.

“Natasha stepped up her pursuit of Baz. First, she withheld sex until he agreed to ditch his other women for just her, then reeled him in. He didn't stand a chance once she turned on her full charms. Last time I talked to her, she thought she had won the battle because Baz wanted to get married and the threats had stopped, but she underestimated the anger and jealousy of a woman scorned, and ended up losing everything.”

“Seems to me that everyone lost in this situation.”

She picked cat hair from her dress, frowned at it. “Yes, I guess so.”

“Did she love him at all? Baz?”

“Love is for fools,” she said, sounding as if she believed it. “And Natasha was no fool.”

At that, I said, “I should probably get going. Let me
give you my phone number. Just call when you're ready to pick up Titania.”

She jumped up. “I really can't take her back with me. I don't suppose you'd . . .” She lifted hopeful eyebrows.

I played dumb. “Me . . . what?”

“That you'd keep her?” she suggested. “She's already accustomed to your house, so I'm sure the stomach problems will stop soon.”

I was dancing inside, positively twirling. On the outside, I was trying my best to look as if I thought her suggestion was the worst idea in the whole world. “I don't know . . . the rugs . . .”

She grabbed her purse and pulled a hundred dollars from her wallet. “Here, take this. Let me pay for the rug cleaning. It's the least I can do.”

Pretending to weigh the decision, I tipped my head left and right. “I mean, I'd rather keep her than see her be sold online to just anyone. Okay, I'll take her, but I won't take your money.”

I got what I came for, and that was more than enough.

Looking relieved, she quickly tucked the money back into her purse and rushed me to the door, apparently worried I would change my mind. “Thanks. You're doing me a big favor.”

If she only knew.

I waved as I walked down the walkway, and as soon as I was out of sight, I realized I was still holding the toy mouse.

As I passed by a trash can at the street corner, I tossed the mouse in.

I didn't want to bring back any reminder to Annie of where she had come from.

Today marked a new start, a new life, for her.

One filled with nothing but the love she deserved.

“W
hat did Godfrey say when you gave him back his blank check?” Starla asked as we walked around the village green later that night.

Twink and Missy walked side by side ahead of us, straining their leashes to sniff every blade of wet grass they came across.

It was a little past eight, and the rain had stopped, but heavy cloud cover remained behind. Darkness would come early tonight.

“He dropped to his knees and kowtowed, like I was the Queen of Sheba or something.”

She laughed. “He did not.”

“He did so. But then he couldn't get up again, so Pepe started taunting him. . . . It turned ugly fast.”

“No!” she cried, laughing so hard tears leaked from her eyes.

“I had to call Harper for help. Marcus came, too, and
he pulled a back muscle lifting Godfrey up. Then we had to call Cherise, who came and fixed up Marcus and told Godfrey he needed to go on a diet. And when Pepe started to tease about that, Cherise told him he needed a diet, too. There was a lot of outrage and cursing in both English and French, and slamming of doors, though Pepe's door doesn't quite have the same impact as Godfrey's. It was more a squeak than a slam.”

Starla stopped walking and wiped tears from her eyes. “You're killing me.”

“It's been quite the day.” An understatement.

“I'd say so.”

Her hair was back to normal, as Ve had tracked her down earlier and plucked a hair from her head, too.
I
hadn't seen my aunt since this morning. She was an expert at evasion. Earlier, I'd come home to a note from Ve that she had picked up Mimi after her bookstore shift, and they were out running errands. She didn't know when they'd be back and told me not to worry.

“Still no sign of Vivienne?” Starla asked.

“None.”

Her car had been found abandoned two blocks from where Baz had been hit, behind the middle school. It had been full of her belongings, and a search had revealed a baggie of unidentified capsules hidden beneath one of the floor mats.

Preliminary tests had revealed those capsules to be cyanide.

That was the last update I'd received from Nick, hours ago. Now there was an all-out manhunt going on.

Womanhunt.

Witchhunt.

I hated thinking of Vivienne on the run. Hated thinking she'd tried to kill Baz. That she'd killed Natasha. . . .

Baz hadn't been worth it.

No one was worth it.

Missy tugged hard on her leash, veering to the right. Looking that way, I saw it was Lady Catherine who'd captured her attention.

“Good evening!” Marigold called out, all smiles, as she approached us.

Lady Catherine trotted over to sniff Missy and Twink, her long thin tail wagging happily.

“Looks like she's none the worse for wear after her adventure,” I said, patting Lady Catherine's head.

“Not worse at all.” Marigold loosened her grip on the dog's leash. “I think we're both ecstatic she's back home. I'm so thrilled that Ivy found her at Fairytails. Lady Catherine loves that place, so I wasn't surprised to hear it.”

I hadn't heard from Godfrey yet about the surveillance footage I'd asked him to view. With his current snit, I wondered if he'd even remember to check it. If I didn't hear from him tonight, I'd check in with him tomorrow.

Before any more pets went missing.

“I love a happy ending.” Starla knelt down, and Lady Catherine licked her face. “It's too bad there won't be a Pawsitively Enchanted calendar this year. I would have loved to see Lady Catherine on the cover. She had such a good chance at winning.”

“You never know in those situations,” Marigold said, obviously trying to be modest, “but I also thought she had a good shot. Ivy suggested that perhaps I seek representation for Lady. To do commercials and the like. She said she'd help because she thinks Lady's a star.”

She'd help, all right. For a fee, I'd bet.

Thinking of Marigold and Ivy, I recalled what Baz had said about Natasha not having had anything to do with his food poisoning. “Hey, Marigold, kind of a strange question, but I'm wondering about your accident a couple of years ago at the Extravaganza. How did it happen?”

Starla glanced up at me, a question in her eyes.

“That is a strange question,” Marigold said. “Why do you ask?”

I skirted the truth. “After what happened to Natasha at the Extravaganza, there have been rumors going around the village that your accident might not have been an accident, that you might have been pushed. You know how people talk. I just wanted to set the record straight. . . .”

Marigold called Lady Catherine to her side. “Please put your mind at rest, Darcy. My accident was just that. An accident. It was my own fault. I'd been drinking a bottle of water, and spilled some as I was walking down the steps.” She gave me a wry smile. “I don't think there's a more slippery surface on earth than wet marble.”

I
knew
I shouldn't have taken this case. It had been nothing but a wild-goose chase, all because Ivy was paranoid about her precious Extravaganza, which was rather ironic considering I was now suspicious that she was petnapping the entrants. Talk about a backfire. “That's good to know,” I said.

“Well, if I'm going to get Lady home before dark, I should get going,” Marigold said, eyeing the sky. “You two girls have a good night.”

We waved as she and Lady Catherine wandered off and continued our walk.

Crickets were chirping loudly as Starla looked at me. “Are you still thinking Ivy had something to do with stealing Lady Catherine in the first place?”

“I hate thinking it, but I do.”

“But why would Ivy bring her back to Marigold?”

“The reward money was probably a lot more than Lady Catherine could be sold for online. And now that talk about helping to get Lady Catherine into commercials? I'm sure she'll charge a commission. Lady Catherine might just be the gift that keeps on giving for the
cash-strapped Ivy. I just need a little evidence before I confront her about it.”

“Ivy's smart. You think she left any evidence?”

“I can only hope.”

Suddenly, Starla groaned. “Ugh, look who's coming.”

Looking ahead, I saw Clarence pulling Glinda our way.

“I'm out of here. I'll see you later, okay? Text me if you get any news on Vivienne,” Starla said, turning away.

“I will,” I promised.

In a flash, she scooped up Twink and walked off in the other direction.

Starla didn't offer forgiveness as easily as I did, and I couldn't blame her. Glinda had treated her badly. Horribly. Much worse than she'd ever treated me. And Starla had never received an apology, not that I thought it would help.

Clarence didn't give me a second look once he spotted Missy. He danced all around her, his tail wagging furiously.

Glinda was watching Starla's retreat. “She's going to hate me forever, isn't she?”

“Probably.”

She sighed. “I deserve it.”

“I know.”

Sending me a sharp look, she said, “You didn't have to agree with me.”

I shrugged. “Sorry. I'm glad to see Clarence is okay. Did Liam happen to get a look at the petnapper? I have this theo—”

“No,” she said, cutting me off. “Not at all.”

I studied her. She wouldn't look me in the eye. “Not even a glimpse?”

“Nothing.”

“Why do I feel like you're keeping something from me?”

“Not sure. Clarence, don't eat the grass!” She sighed
at the dog's antics. “Liam isn't even sure now if someone did try to steal Clarence, or if Clarence simply escaped again. You know how he is.”

“Liam or Clarence?”

She sent me a withering look. “Clarence.”

She was acting odd, but I had no idea why.

“I was hoping to run into you,” she said.

“The pen is at As You Wish. I haven't had time to put the footage on disk yet.”

“That's fine. I'll come by tomorrow morning for it. No rush now that Vivienne's wanted for murder. That puts divorce proceedings on the back burner. Which is why I wanted to talk to you.”

“About divorce? You and Liam aren't even married yet.”

She sighed heavily. “About Vivienne. She didn't do this to Baz. She wouldn't do this. You need to talk to Nick, get him to listen to reason.”

“The evidence is pretty overwhelming. Baz even saw her driving.”

“He didn't even have his glasses on from what I heard. He wouldn't have been able to identify her if she'd been standing ten feet in front of him.”

Word spread fast in this village, but she did have a point about the glasses. He'd been squinting to see me, and I'd been right in front of him. “Cyanide pills were found in her car.”

“Someone's framing her, Darcy. She didn't do this. Someone must've stolen the car from the Pixie Cottage.”

“It wasn't reported stolen.”

She flushed. “I know, but that's what happened.”

“How do you know? Have you talked to Vivienne?”

“It doesn't matter how. Listen, it makes no sense that Vivienne would run Baz over or poison Natasha. She wanted out of that marriage. We have the evidence she needs for a big payday, so why would she try to kill him?”

“If he's dead, she probably gets a lot more money than a divorce would bring, even with the cheating evidence. He's worth a gazillion dollars, isn't he? She's probably his main beneficiary.”

Glinda snapped her mouth closed, frowned, then said, “Maybe so, but she certainly wouldn't have used her own car to run him down in broad daylight. That's just plain stupid.”

It was my turn to frown. She made a good point. “Then maybe she's just a woman who's been pushed over the edge. There's the whole anger and revenge angle to consider,” I went on. “Alina Norcliffe said Vivienne had threatened Natasha. Scratched her car up, broke in to her house, warned her off dating Baz.”

Glinda shook her head. “That makes zero sense. Vivienne didn't even know it was Natasha who Baz was seeing until yesterday at the Extravaganza. Not until I told her after we saw them in the hallway.”

Yesterday. It seemed forever ago. “Do you know that for certain?”

“Know what?”

“That Vivienne didn't know about Natasha? She could have hired you just so you'd tell people she hadn't known. You'd be part of her alibi.”

“It wasn't Vivienne,” Glinda said stubbornly. “I refuse to believe it.”

“Well, okay, then. Let's say you're right. Who else is there?”

She glared at me in dismay, then took a deep breath. “I don't know. The only other person I can think of is . . .”

“Chip,” we both said at the same time.

“He definitely has motive if he loved Natasha,” Glinda said, latching on to the idea.

“But he's in the hospital. He couldn't have run over Baz.”

“Is he still there? I heard he was getting released today.”

Nick had mentioned Chip could be let out early. . . . Had that happened? And if so, what time?

“All I know,” Glinda said, “is that Vivienne is innocent, and I refuse to let her take the fall.”

“Do you know where Vivienne is?” I asked point-blank.

“I, uh—” She looked over my shoulder and snapped her mouth closed. “I have to go. I'll be by tomorrow morning for that video.”

I turned to see what had scared her off and found Nick walking my way.

Missy happily circled his feet, barking until he paid her some attention. He flopped her ears and scratched her back, and she happily rolled in the grass.

Nick gave me a long kiss and said, “Why'd Glinda rush off when she saw me?”

“She thinks Vivienne is innocent, and probably doesn't want to hear any evidence you have against her.” I explained Glinda's reasoning for thinking Vivienne was innocent, including Baz's nearsightedness and supposedly not knowing Natasha was his mistress until yesterday.

As we walked across the green, Nick said, “I don't know what to think. I don't exactly have suspects coming out of the woodwork, and Vivienne's not talking because no one can find her.”

I was going to say she would turn up, that people didn't just vanish, but around this village, they did. “Disappearing isn't exactly innocent behavior, is it?”

“No.” Nick shook his head.

Even so, I felt duty-bound to follow up on Chip. “I don't suppose Chip was released from the hospital earlier today, was he? Before Baz's accident?”

“Why?”

Missy walked ahead of us, and I retracted her leash a bit as we neared the road. I explained to Nick what Glinda and I had talked about. “He's the only other person who has motive for killing Natasha. If he killed her, maybe he was just as angry at Baz?”

“But that would mean Chip poisoned
himself
. You said yourself that he didn't look like he knew his smoothie had cyanide in it.”

I fidgeted. “Maybe he's a better actor than I gave him credit for? Maybe he drank only enough so he'd get sick but wouldn't die. So we wouldn't suspect him.”

Nick rubbed at his five o'clock shadow. “That's a lot of maybes.”

It definitely was.

“I'll call the hospital, just so we can cross him off the suspect list once and for all. Oh, and I got all five of your messages about Archie's abduction.”

I smiled. “Yeah, sorry about that. Do you know if the sack was found?”

“Waiting on a call back from the officer who took the original call,” he said, yawning. “There was nothing in the evidence locker.”

“You must be ready to drop,” I said, noting the weariness etched around his eyes. “Are you off work now? How're you feeling?”

“I'm on call if anything happens with the case, but technically I'm off for the next twelve hours. And I'm fine. Really. Just had the wind knocked out of me earlier, is all. It probably won't be the last time.”