Leighann Dobbs - Mystic Notch 02 - A Spirited Tail (23 page)

“We wait. We watch. And we get ready to take action.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

I sat in stunned silence on my living room sofa, a salt shaker in one hand and one of Elspeth’s plump, juicy tomatoes in the other. I ate the tomato like an apple, sprinkling salt on each bite, hoping it would help me digest the information Elspeth had delivered about Bruce and Charles.

My distracted gaze fell on the glass orb on my coffee table, as the clues whirled around in my head.  The orb was glowing red, reflecting the color from the tomato in my hand, only much brighter. I leaned forward for a closer look and it appeared as if snow was falling inside like a snow globe. 

That’s odd
, I thought. Then I noticed the salt shaker in my hand had tipped and was spilling on the table. The falling granules of salt must have been reflected in the orb. I threw some of the spilled salt over my left shoulder and returned to my thoughts. A niggling voice in my head told me something wasn’t right … of course, something wasn’t right. My carefully built theory about Gladys and Charles had just been blown to smithereens.

This changed everything, but when I thought about it, it made sense… back then, their relationship would have been less acceptable. It might have even ruined Charles’s career. No wonder the letters had sounded so desperate that no one could find out … especially Lily.  

But where did that leave me with my Gladys theory? And how did Lily’s murder figure into it? Or Bruce’s, for that matter.

I tried to visualize what I’d seen at Bruce Norton’s house in my mind. Was there a clue on his table that I’d overlooked? I thought about the cuttlebone. Jimmy had said they were for birds, but there were no birds in any of the Van Dorn pictures. And how could a bird be a clue, anyway?  Maybe cuttlebones had other uses?

That brought me back to the link between Bruce’s murder and the murders fifty years ago.  Maybe Bruce was going back to the house to get the love letters when he was killed? But why kill him? Obviously, whoever killed Bruce didn’t want to be seen at the Van Dorn house, so it had to be the killer from fifty years ago. But who else was old enough? The only other people I could think of were Elspeth and Claire.

Elspeth had been out of town when Bruce was killed, so it couldn’t be her.

I rummaged in my leather hobo bag that slouched on the couch beside me, pulled out the silver business card holder and slipped out Claire’s card. Even though I really didn’t want to, I had to talk to her.

Claire was quickly bubbling up to the top of my suspect list. She’d been in town during all three murders, she had a rivalry with Charles and she seemed very eager to get her hands on those journals. I had no idea what was in them, but several people were acting like they were very important and I had to wonder if they were important enough for someone to kill three people over them.

Claire answered on the first ring.

“Hi, Claire, this is Willa Chance from the bookstore.” 

“Yes, Willa. Did you find the journal?” Her voice raised a hopeful octave at the end of the sentence.

“No. Sorry. No journal. But I did find some photo albums and it looks like you’re in them.”

“Well, it’s no secret I was a contemporary of Charles Van Dorn.” 

“So, you admit were around when Lily Johanson and Charles died?”

“Yeees.” She drew the word out and I wondered if it was because she didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking.

“And you knew Bruce Norton.”

“Of course. Willa, what are you trying to say?”

“It’s just that there’re a lot of unanswered questions from all the deaths and you’re one of the few people who was around at the times of all three of them.”

A sigh came over the line. “I don’t know why you would care about fifty-year-old cold cases, but if you’re implying something wasn’t right about them, I would agree.”

My brows flew up in surprise. I had expected her to deny any knowledge, or get mad, or hang up on me, or maybe even all three. “You thought something wasn’t right back then?”

“Yep. Look, If you wanna talk, I’m at Earline’s Diner. They’re open until ten. You can meet me here if you want.”

It was eight thirty and I could get there in ten minutes. Plenty of time. “Okay, see you in ten minutes.”

I snapped the phone shut and sank back into the couch. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to meet with Claire. After all, she hung around with Felicity Bates and one of the Bates family members had tried to kill me before. Not to mention that Claire, herself, probably had something to hide if she’d changed her name. She could even be the one who killed Charles, Lily
and
Bruce. 

 But all my clues that had been fitting nicely into place were now torn apart and she was the only one I could think of who might have an answer.

Besides, we were meeting in a diner. What could she possibly do to me in public?

***

The neon sign of Earline’s Diner cut through the dark night like a beacon. The large glass windows showed two lone customers inside, sitting several booths apart, reminiscent of an Edward Hopper painting.

I glanced behind me as I got out of my Jeep. On the way out, headlights behind me in the distance had mirrored my every turn, making me uneasy. Glancing back, I watched the car drive past the entrance to the diner. I noticed it was black—the same car that had been following me. How could that be possible if Claire was sitting in the diner? Maybe she and Felicity had spilt up or, it was just my imagination that the car was even following me? Probably my imagination.

Claire looked up and smiled when I entered. She almost looked friendly, but I didn’t let my guard down. I still wasn’t sure if she was friend or foe—probably foe, considering who she kept company with.

I slid into the booth opposite her, eyeing the remnants of eggs, bacon and toast on her plate. “Where’s Felicity?”

Claire waved her hand “Oh, I don’t spend all my time with her.”

“No?” I raised my brow at her. “Only when you are following me around, I guess.”

“Following you?  We haven’t been following you. Well, maybe that one time … or twice. But you make it sound like I’m a stalker. I’m not.”  

“But why would you follow me?”

“To see if you have the journal. Anyway, we haven’t been following you lately and my association with Felicity is only one of necessity.”

“Necessity?”

“Yes, but never mind that. Do you want coffee?” She signaled for the waitress, who came over with two pots.

“Decaf, please,” I said and the waitress angled one of the pots at my cup and poured, then sauntered away.

“So, what did you want to know about Charles Van Dorn?” Claire asked after the waitress was out of earshot.

My investigator’s instincts kicked into gear and I leaned across the table. “How close were you with Charles?”

“Oh, we were quite close. We were in the same business, so …” she shrugged.

“And you spent a lot of time at his house?”

“Sure, when I was in town. I wasn’t here often, though. I had a lot of engagements around the country, as did Charles.”

“I read you were rivals, so your relationship wasn’t always friendly.”

She scooped some egg yolk onto a piece of toast. “Oh, that? That was all for publicity. We never had an adversarial relationship.”

“Really? That’s not how the papers made it out.”

 “Oh, the papers. That’s what they do, try to create conflict where there is none. Although I will say Charles and I did encourage that sometimes … you know, it kept people interested in us.” She winked at me.

“So, you didn’t have any problems with Charles? Like maybe something you might have wanted to take revenge against?”

“Of course not.”

I sipped my coffee and studied her for a few seconds. “Then why did you change your name?”

She blinked. “Change my name?”

“Yes, the article in the paper called you Claire Voyant. I might never have figured out it was you if I didn’t see you in one of Charles’ photo albums.  What are you hiding?”

She laughed—not the witchy cackle I’d expected, but a light melodious sound. “Oh, dear, that was just my stage name. It was perfectly acceptable back then. “

I narrowed my eyes. “So you didn’t have a falling out with Charles before he died?”

“No, in fact I was there that day.”

My brows flew up. She was
there
? That could mean two things: either she might have a clue about who killed him, or she did it herself.

“You were at the house the day he died?” I asked. “Why?” 

She speared a small piece of sausage with her fork. “We were trying to talk to Lily’s spirit, if you must know.”

“You were?”

She nodded, swallowed and patted her lips with a napkin. “Yes. As you know, Charles and I were mediums, so it seemed the natural thing to do. “ 

“To do for what?”

“Why, to talk to Lily, of course.”  She gave me a knowing look and leaned across the table, touching my arm with her hand. “You do know what I mean, don’t you?”

I shrank back, squirming in my seat. Did she know about me, or was she just acting cagey, trying to feel me out? I decided to keep quiet—I didn’t want the word to get out about my unique talents.

“Why did you want to talk to Lily. Was it about her murder?” I asked.

“Of course. Lily was a dear friend.” Claire’s face pinched. 

“So you thought she’d reveal her murderer? But why not leave that to the police?”

Claire made a face. “The police didn’t take the case seriously. I got the impression they thought we were ‘outsiders’, not worth their time. Plus, I don’t think they thought very highly of show-people. They didn’t listen to anything we said, so we decided to take matters into our own hands. I knew Lily was being stalked by someone, but the police wouldn’t listen.”

“Charles?”

“Goodness, no!”  She looked at me as if I were crazy. Knowing what I knew about Charles and Bruce, I figured it wasn’t him, but I’d wanted to see what Claire thought.

“Who, then?”

“We never found out. There were so many people around in those days. But Lily was terrified. She said she’d gotten some strange notes. Of course, she did have an eye for Charles but he did not return her feelings.” Claire gave me a knowing look.

“So, you don’t think Charles killed her?”

“No, he was no killer.”

“But the paper said she had his cuff-link and that she had spurned his interest.” 

“The cufflink was a plant. Charles had said his favorite pair had gone missing during the house party that weekend.”

I settled back in my seat, my palms wrapped around the mug of coffee in front of me. “Who else was there the night Lily died?”

Claire pressed her lips together and looked up. “Let’s see. There was Bruce, me, Bill Parker, Charles, Lily, and that annoying writer.”

“What about house staff?”

She shoved her food around with her fork while she thought. “I seem to remember Gladys was there and the cook—Mabel something-or-other. The cook stayed in the kitchen. I didn’t know her well but Gladys was always around. She was more like a sister to Charles, especially after he and his brother had a falling out.”

“And you didn’t notice anyone acting strange or anything weird happening?”

Claire shook her head. “No. We found Lily the next day and she had the cufflink.  Charles claimed he was being framed but the police didn’t listen.”

“And what about the night Charles died? Who was there?”

“The same people … well, except Lily, of course. We wanted a small group because we were hoping Lily would name her killer and we could try to clear Charles.”

“And did she?  Did you talk to Lily?”

“No. We couldn’t even do the séance because someone had taken Charles’ crystal.”

“Crystal?”

“Yes, he always used large, round crystal when he contacted the departed. He couldn’t talk to them without it, but that day it was missing, which was odd, because naturally he protected it like gold.”

“What about you? Couldn’t you talk to her? Your card says you are a medium.”

Claire smiled patiently. “Yes, but unfortunately, Lily didn’t come to me. I can’t just conjure people up at will. They have to come to me. I think you know that not all of us have the talent to manifest at will.”

I studied her as I took another sip of coffee. Was she being evasive or telling the truth? I couldn’t conjure up ghosts when I wanted to, either, so I had no reason to doubt her. Plus, I’d been peppering her with questions pretty hard and she seemed unfazed. My gut instinct told me she was telling the truth.

“So, you were the last person to see Charles, then?”

“Well, I wasn’t the very last person to see him. The usual gang was still there when I left. I had to catch a train that night and couldn’t stay over.”

“What about Gladys? Was she still there?”

Claire thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess she must have been. She was always there.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

I woke up the next day with a headache. The Van Dorn case was getting confusing and I wasn’t sure I could trust any of the information I’d gotten from Claire. I hoped Charles would make an appearance today and clear up a few things for me.

I dressed in a silky, black tank top and tan capris. Not that I was dressing for the dinner date I had with Striker or anything, but I did take some extra time to tame my red curls and swipe on mascara.

I got to the shop early and the regulars came in with their coffees. Ranger flopped down in front of Josiah and Pandora shot me a disgusted glance, reminding me I needed to find a forever home for the Golden Retriever or I would soon be too attached and end up keeping him for myself. I had considered Striker but hadn’t seen him with the dog enough to try to coerce him into taking him.

“I see you still have Bruce’s dog,” Bing commented, as if reading my mind.

“Yep, trying to find him the perfect new home.” 

Ranger looked up at me, a deep V creased in the area in between his eyes as if he knew what I had said.