One Potion in the Grave: A Magic Potion Mystery (15 page)

“I could use a little of that myself,” Marjie said, lifting an eyebrow.

“But who would make my coffee?” I asked with a sweet-as-sugar smile.

“Sass,” Marjie snapped.

Gabi said, “Thanks, Carly. And thanks for just . . . listening.”

“Anytime.”

“I should go. I’m sure everyone’s wondering where I’ve gotten off to. Thanks for your help last night, Miss Marjie. And thanks for not shooting me yesterday in your yard.”

Marjie folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t make me regret that choice.”

Gabi tipped her head. “Why would you?”

“Because, child, I can’t abide a fool. If a girl like you decides to marry into that family, you’re too stupid to live.”

Chapter Seventeen

A
couple of hours later, I came down the stairs to find Marjie sitting on the couch, poking away at Katie Sue’s phone. She was trying to figure out the pass code.

“Might as well do something useful while I’m sittin’ around here,” she said.

I stood next to her, picking cat hair from my dark shorts. Hazel and Eulalie had already been by, quacking over Marjie’s injuries and rehashing the news of Katie Sue’s death—I’d eavesdropped on the conversation from my room, not in the mood to join the conversation.

Over bacon and eggs, Marjie and I had chatted about Katie Sue’s case and her return to town. I told Marjie everything I knew, from Katie Sue’s possible affair with Warren to her seeking a hex from Delia. I spilled the tea about my run-in with Lyla and how I’d promised to help Jamie Lynn. And I revealed how I knew Cletus had hurt Katie Sue before, because I’d read it in her energy.

Marjie had remembered Katie Sue well—including the switching she’d given her that one time. She hadn’t
recognized her last night, but I didn’t know if that was because of Katie Sue’s transformation into Kathryn Perry . . . or if her injuries had been too severe.

It felt good to let it all out—and I knew Marjie wouldn’t go shooting off her mouth, either. Her gun, maybe. But not her mouth. She’d kept quiet when my other aunts went on and on about poor Katie Sue—and didn’t so much as taunt either when both suddenly claimed they had known who Katie Sue was the whole time and weren’t fooled by her phony name.

My aunts hated having anything pulled over on them.

“It’ll be a miracle if you figure it out,” I said, nodding to the phone.

“I don’t believe in miracles. If I figure it out, it’ll be from sheer will.”

“Don’t you mean stubbornness?”

“Patience,” she corrected, pursing her lips.

I couldn’t help but smile. “I have a couple of errands to run, but I’ll be at the shop after that. Just call if you need anything.”

She harrumphed.

I whistled to the cats. It was time to go.

“They can stay,” Marjie said. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

I narrowed my gaze. I didn’t come out and accuse her of actually
liking
the cats, but I could tell she did. “Don’t let them take advantage of you. Especially Poly.”

“Don’t worry none. Go on with you now. And don’t forget to bring me back that bone potion.”

I’d just picked up my purse when a shout from the street caught my attention. I strode to the front window and pulled back the curtain. Reporters filled the lane,
curb to curb. Warren Calhoun stood on Aunt Hazel’s front porch and was trying to calm the crowd with grand arm gestures. Everyone stilled.

I blinked. Until now I never fully understood the power that man held over people. But I saw it now.

“What’s going on?” Marjie asked.

“Looks like Warren is giving a press conference,” I said, pulling open the front door. This I had to hear.

I leaned against the porch pillar and wasn’t the least bit surprised when Marjie followed me out, nightshirt and all.

She hopped over, and used the railing for support. “He’s a fine lookin’ man, isn’t he?” she said. Then
tsk
ed. “The devil in disguise.”

I glanced at her. “Not many can see through him.”

“I’m not one who’s ever been blinded by charm.”

Truer words had never been spoken.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Warren boomed. He didn’t need a microphone for his voice to carry.

A reporter shouted, “Is it true one of Landry and Gabi’s wedding guests was found dead last night?”

“Who was the woman?” another yelled. “A friend of the bride or groom?”

Warren held up a hand again, silencing the questions. “It is with a heavy heart that I tell you one of this family’s dear friends, Dr. Kathryn Perry, had an unfortunate accident last night. While partaking in a nature hike, she slipped and fell off a cliff. Though she initially survived the fall, she later succumbed to her injuries. Louisa and I offer our deepest and heartfelt condolences to Dr. Perry’s family.”

Family friend? Unfortunate accident? I gasped at the
expert way he’d spun what happened. It had been no accident. His
mistress
had been murdered. My breakfast churned in my stomach.

“Can you confirm that Dr. Perry was drunk when she fell?” a reporter shouted.

I fumed. I hadn’t smelled alcohol. Clearly this was just another rumor.

Warren’s deliberate hesitation was a silent affirmation. However, he followed it with, “I’m unaware of her condition at the time of her death.”

I wanted to shout out at the way he was manipulating everyone, making them truly believe she’d been drunk and had fallen. I couldn’t, however, without hurting Dylan’s investigation.

“But didn’t Dr. Perry eat dinner with your family last night before her walk?” A reporter glanced at his notes. “At the Delphinium restaurant? A waiter places her there at the same time your family was dining. Surely you’d notice if she was intoxicated.”

I stiffened. Katie Sue had been at the Delphinium? Why had she been there? It had to have been around the time she was supposed to have been meeting with Jamie Lynn.

Warren’s jaw jutted. “If Dr. Perry was at the restaurant, it was merely coincidental. She didn’t dine with the family.”

“Is it true Gabi was the one who found her?” someone asked.

“Yes. In a selfless attempt to rescue Dr. Perry, Gabi herself was injured, breaking her wrist and suffering a facial wound. She’s been released from the hospital and is doing well this morning.”

There was a flurry of questions about the severity of the wounds, and if she’d be permanently scarred.

Marjie mumbled something under her breath. I was glad I couldn’t hear what she’d said.

“What of the wedding, Senator Calhoun?” someone asked. “Is it still being held tomorrow evening?”

Warren dipped his head and steepled his fingers under his chin. Drawing in a dramatic breath, he lifted his face and said, “In light of this unfortunate incident and Gabi’s injuries, the wedding is postponed indefinitely. Louisa, Cassandra, Landry, Gabi, and I will be leaving this afternoon to have Gabi seen by her personal doctor back in Shady Hollow. We request your cooperation in honoring our privacy as Gabi heals. I’m sure you all understand.”

There was another round of questions, mostly about the wedding and when it would be rescheduled. Warren simply brushed the questions off with a “Too soon to know.” He answered a few more questions, then ducked back into the Loon. The reporters left with a front page story to file.

I was left filled with disgust.

“The Calhouns might not have been notified yet that Katie Sue’s death was a homicide,” Marjie said. “That’ll change their plans right quick. They’re not going anywhere until Dylan has a chance to question them.”

Time was ticking.

I just hoped I figured out exactly what happened to Katie Sue before the Calhouns got the all clear to leave.

Because if any of them had something to do with her death, and the longer it took to solve the crime, the more time they had to fabricate alibis and bury all the evidence.

“Any news for me yet, Carly Bell?”

I was in the middle of watering Mr. Dunwoody’s flowers when Aunt Eulalie called over the fence that separated the two yards. It took me a second to remember what kind of news she’d be looking for.

Then I remembered. A man. She wanted me to find her a man.

“Not yet. But I’m working on it,” I lied. If I’d told her I hadn’t had the time to even think about looking I wouldn’t have heard the end of it. “I want to make sure I pick some good candidates. These things take time. You don’t want any ol’ man off the street.”

Beneath the brim of a large straw hat, one of her eyebrows lifted in skepticism.

Hmm.
Maybe any ol’ man would do after all.

“How long?” She wore a prim sixties-style pink dress. Capped sleeves, white belt cinched at her narrow waist, and an A-line skirt. Yet she was walking around her yard in bare feet.

I tipped the watering can, drenching a flower bed. Beautiful pink petals drooped under the assault. “Hard to say.” I tried to buy myself some time. “A week, maybe two.”

She
tsk
ed.

“You deserve the very best, don’t you?” I asked, playing to her vanity. “The best takes time to find.”

“Yes, yes I do.” She fluffed her hair. “The best deserves the best. But if you could hurry the process, I’d appreciate it. Marjie has Johnny. Hazel has John Richard and now Earl as well. I have . . . no one but myself.” Pressing her hands to her chest, her voice rose. “And
though I’m simply fabulous on my own, I think my fabulousity should be shared with a fabulous companion.”

“That’s a lot of fabulous.”

“I know, Carly Bell,” she said earnestly. “I know.”

“How’s Earl doing?” I asked. I hadn’t heard much after initial word of his attack.

“Lapping up Hazel’s attention like a thirsty dog at a watering hole. The fawning”—she shook her head—“is positively nauseating.”

“Is Hazel thinking of cutting John Richard loose?” Finally?
Please-oh-please.

“Heavens, no. She loves having the attention of two men.” Lifting her nose in the air, she sniffed. “I think it’s shameful.”

Shameful only because it wasn’t Eulalie the men were fawning over. If that were the case, it would be perfectly acceptable.

Her blue eyes flared. “She’s done moved Earl into the Loon until he’s recuperated.”

She did? “I didn’t think she had any rooms left.” It was, after all, why Katie Sue was supposed to stay with me.

“She has him splayed on her pullout sofa in her suite like they’re at some kind of campout. People will talk. It’s not decent.”

People.
Meaning Eulalie. Her words, however, reminded me of my conversation with Dylan this morning. Of how my aunts would talk if he showed up at my place using lights and sirens. I ducked my head so she wouldn’t see my smile. One of these days I might just take Dylan up on that offer.

But then other parts of our conversation seeped into
my thoughts. Of Katie Sue and her jewelry. What had become of it? Had it been a robbery gone wrong? Or made to look like a robbery gone wrong?

I couldn’t help but feel, deep down, that the Calhouns were at the bottom of what had happened to Katie Sue, but it would be foolish of me not to consider that Katie Sue’s own family had something to do with her demise. Cletus, especially. All that expensive jewelry would have been an added incentive to get rid of his stepdaughter.

Eulalie leaned on the fence. Sunlight slashed across her lower face, highlighting her sharp jawline and the curve of her beautiful cheekbones. Mercy be, but she did look
a lot
like Meryl. “I’m not looking for the kind of man who will fawn on me.”

“You’re not?” I asked. Because it seemed to me that Eulalie adored fawning. “What kind of man are you looking for?”

“Oh,” she said dreamily. “Someone who’s highly intelligent, but smart and funny. A man who has his own money and isn’t afraid to spend it. A man with some age. I don’t have time to train a puppy, if you know what I mean.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

I wondered if I could wash my imagination out with soap.

“A man who loves the ballet, a man who doesn’t mind when I need my own time, a man who will cook and clean, a man who will buy me pretty sparkly things yet surprise me with flowers from the garden. A man who’s grounded but a dreamer as well. A man—”

“Aunt Eulalie,” I interrupted.

“Yes?”

“How many traits on that list are must haves?”

“Why, all of them, of course. You just said, the best deserves the best.”

I was pretty sure
she’d
said that. “I’m afraid a man like that is going to be hard to find.” Especially in Hitching Post, Alabama. The ballet?
Mercy.

“Don’t I know it. Why do you think I’ve been single all these years? I refuse to settle.”

Settle.
My word.
Where was I going to find this perfect man? “It might take me more time than I thought.” Like a year or two.

Her lip jutted. “But Marjie and Hazel . . .”

I eyed her suspiciously. “How much of finding this man is because you’re looking for love, and how much is because you’re trying to keep up with your sisters?”