One Potion in the Grave: A Magic Potion Mystery (16 page)

Hands on hips, she said, “I don’t like your tone.”

“Because,” I said, shading my eyes against the sun, “if you’re just competing with Hazel and Marjie, that’s a game I can play. But if you’re looking for love . . . true love . . . I need to know.”

Her lips pursed. “Does it have to be one or the other?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I want you to look for Mr. Right, but I recognize that may take some time. In the meantime . . .”

“Any man will do?”

“Not
any
man,” she said, shaking her head. “I have
some
standards. But if you could find someone who would make Hazel and Marjie’s eyes turn green with envy . . . that’d be perfect.”

“Now who’s shameful?” I asked, smiling.

She gave me a saucy wink. “Who do you think Hazel learned it from?”

Chapter Eighteen

D
èjá Brew smelled like a little piece of heaven as I pushed through the doors, the cowbell clanging my entrance. Odell must be baking something chocolaty, because the oooey-gooey scent permeated the air, making me crave a fudge brownie something fierce.

Jessa glanced up with a welcoming smile as she took an order at a nearby table. I strode to the display case and eyed the goodies.

“I’ll get you fixed right up, Carly,” Jessa said, heading around the counter.

“Could you please make it a brownie instead of a cookie, Jessa? And throw in a few cupcakes as well. I have some buttering up to do.”

“Sure thing, sugar.” Jessa went about gathering goodies. “What’s the latest on poor Katie Sue Perrywinkle, Carly? I was shocked when I found out who’d died last night.”

“I haven’t heard too much yet,” I said, trying my best not to spill too much. Telling anything to Jessa was like
taking out a full-page ad in the local paper. “I think Dylan’s meeting with the coroner this morning.” I didn’t mention that Katie Sue had been murdered. That news would be out soon enough.

“That poor little orphan Gabi, though,” Jessa said, shaking her head. “Broken arm, jagged cut on her face, wedding ruined . . . If I were her, I would’ve went ahead and married that Landry Calhoun. Hooked him but good before he could get away. He’s a fine specimen of man.” She fanned her face.

“That he is,” I said, shifting uncomfortably.

Jessa pushed a pastry box my way with the cupcakes inside, and handed over a bag with the brownie and a cup of coffee. “How’s your mama taking the news of the wedding cancelation?”

I tightened the lid on the cup. “I’m afraid to call and ask her.”

She tipped her head back and barked out a laugh. “You always were a smart one.”

“My daddy’s taking care of her—he usually knows just what to do.”

“Always has,” Jessa agreed.

They were good together, my parents. Loved each other fiercely. I suddenly wondered what it had been like for Landry and Cassandra to grow up with parents who seemed to privately despise each other. I couldn’t imagine.
I
had commitment issues, and I’d seen firsthand that love could last. No wonder Landry didn’t want to marry.

I paid my tab, said my good-byes, and had just stepped into the Ring when I heard my name being called.

Smiling, I found Ainsley running toward me across the park in the middle of the Ring, her hands pressed to
her chest to keep her boobs from bouncing around. I couldn’t help but laugh.

When she finally reached me, she bent to catch her breath. “I’m going to regret that come tomorrow,” she said.

“Maybe so, but you sure brightened my day.”

Smiling, she said, “Well, hold on to your britches, because I’ve got more news to make your day.”

“Like what?” We started walking toward Potions.

“After I heard that press conference this morning with Senator Calhoun, I went straight to work, tapping into every gossip line in town.”

“Why?”

“To find out who saw Katie Sue at the Delphinium last night. I figured it’d help you create that timeline like you wanted.”

My eyes lit. “Did you find out who it was?”

“Of course I did. No one knows how to work the gossip mill in this town like I do.”

“You do have a gift.”

“Just be glad I use my powers for good not evil.”

“I think the whole town is grateful for that.” Smiling, I said, “Who was it? The server?”

“Junior McGee. And not only that, but I’ve already exacted a promise from his mama to get him to stop by Potions later today to tell you all about it.”

I reached out and gave her a quick hug. “Thank you.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “It was nothing. Makes me feel better to help out.” She reached into her cleavage and pulled out two sets of keys. “I need to give these back to you, too.”

“What’re these?”

She dropped them in my hand. “Katie Sue’s keys.”

“They’re what?”

Sheepishly, she said, “I might have borrowed them last night from her purse. One set’s the original, the other is the copy. I just got to thinking that it couldn’t hurt to take a peek inside her house in Shady Hollow, and the police are probably going to confiscate all her things soon.”

She was flat-out nuts. “If Dylan finds out . . .”

“No need to go blabbing.”

“It
would
be good to see her place. She might have pictures. Or a diary or something.”

Eagerly, she nodded. “This is what I’m saying.”

“How about tonight?” I asked. “You game?”

“Oh, hell no.”

I stopped, stared at her.

“If I ever got caught breaking and entering, Carter would kill me. This is as far as my criminal inclinations go. You’re on your own from here on out.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “I’ve got to get back. Call me later!”

I watched as she headed across the Ring, then shook my head and eyed my next destination. Caleb Montgomery’s law office. I had a favor to ask, and I was armed and ready.

Cupcakes were his kryptonite, and I wasn’t afraid to use them to assure that he’d help me figure out what was going to happen to Katie Sue’s estate.

I took a deep breath and pulled open the door to Caleb’s office. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I blinked repeatedly, thinking I was seeing things.

I wasn’t.

“John Richard Baldwin, as I live and breathe. What’re you doing here?”

He sat behind the reception desk—a desk that had been vacant for months. Caleb was a perfectionist, and none of the assistants he hired ever lasted long. John Richard’s dark hair was smoothed back, and he wore a crisp light blue shirt, the top button undone. He was younger than I was by a few years and was a rookie attorney, only a year or two out of law school.

“Well, if it isn’t Broom-Hilda,” he said, teasing me with the phony name I’d given him the first time we’d met.

“You can just call me Hilda now, seeing as how we’re going to be kin soon.” I scrunched my nose. “Uncle John Richard has such a nice ring to it. Hazel’s so happy, you know. Winter weddings are simply beautiful.” I batted my eyelashes. “Can I be flower girl?”

“Stop,”
he groaned. “You know perfectly well we’re not getting married. We’re not even dating.”

“I don’t think Hazel knows that.”

“I keep telling her. She refuses to listen.”

“No surprise there. We Fowl women like to hang on to our men.” I flashed to an image of Dylan waiting for me at the end of a long aisle. “Most of the time. Every once in a while, we’re stupid and let a good one go. Now are you going to tell me what you’re doing here? Does Caleb know you’re sitting there? Because I think if he sees you behind that desk, I’ll be bailin’ him out of jail later. He’s a bit possessive of his office furniture.”

“Yes, he knows I’m here. He hired me.”

“I think I should sit down.” I pulled up a chair and put the box of cupcakes on the desk. “Say that again.”

He rolled his eyes. “He hired me.”

My jaw dropped. “As a receptionist?”

“Administrative assistant,”
he corrected.

“There’s a good use of your law degree.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I was a little rash in moving here after I was fired from that Birmingham firm. I thought I’d be able to open my own firm right off. . . .”

“You’re not used to small towns, are you?”

“I’m like Alice in Wonderland around here.”

Wonderland fit. This town was a madhouse.

“Caleb took pity on me, and hired me on. I’m starting out here behind this desk, but if we get on well enough, then he said he’d consider hiring me on as an attorney.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“Pride goes before the fall, Carly. And I don’t like falling. Right now I’m grateful for a paying job.”

In this day and age it took a lot of courage to set ego aside. “You’re all right—you know that, Uncle John Richard?”

“Aw, shucks,” he said. “I’ll talk to Hazel about the flower girl gig. Now”—he cleared his throat— “how may I help you this morning?”

“I came to see Caleb.”

“Do you have an appointment?” he asked, clicking a few buttons on his computer.

“I don’t need an appointment.”

He lifted both eyebrows in surprise. “I see. Are you two, you know . . .”

“No!”

The door to Caleb’s office opened, and he came out grinning ear to ear. He’d obviously been eavesdropping on us. His light eyes shimmered with humor. “Oh, come on, Carly, you know you love me.”

“I do, it’s true.” But not like that. “I even brought you cupcakes.”

His good humor vanished in a flash. He crossed his arms. “What do you want?”

I scooted to the edge of my chair. “Say someone you know just died . . . How soon can you find out the financial situation of that person? Wills and such?”

He tipped his head back and let out a breath. “No.”

I stood. “Come on, Caleb. Please?”

“No.”

John Richard’s head turned side to side as Caleb and I verbally volleyed.

“Don’t you think you owe me? After not believing me about how much danger Katie Sue was in and joking about it? I think I remember you saying that I didn’t have a sense of humor anymore. Them are fightin’ words, Caleb Montgomery, yet I let it go, the good friend that I am.”

His gaze met mine, staring, staring, staring, until he finally blinked. “What kind of cupcakes?”

I threw my arms around him. “Thank you.”

“Stop with that,” he said, wiggling. He wasn’t much for affection. “Tell me what you know about Katie Sue’s new life as Kathryn Perry. Probate probably won’t be filed for a month or so, but I can send out some discreet inquires, see if we can determine who her attorney is.”

“Wait a sec,” John Richard said, brightening. “Are you talking about Dr. Perry? The one who died last night?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You didn’t know her, did you?”

“Not personally, but I do know her attorney. I used to work in the same cube farm as him at Doughtree, Sullivan, and Gobble. . . .”

I glanced at Caleb. “Hiring John Richard is paying off already.” I grabbed my brownie bag and said, “I need to go. You’ll let me know if you learn anything?”

“What is it you’re looking for, Carly?” Caleb asked.

I grasped the bag and looked between the two of them. “I want to know what happens to all Katie Sue’s money. Does it go to Jamie Lynn? Did she have a change of heart about her mama or Lyla and leave some to them? Because with a fortune like hers, that could be a big motive for murder.”

Chapter Nineteen

O
ne of my favorite parts of the day was that quiet time in Potions before I opened. When it was just me and the comforting scents of the shop. I had half an hour before I turned my
CLOSED
sign to
OPEN
, and I had a lot to get done.

First things first, I stepped into the potion-making room. I quickly went through the steps to release the grimoire from its secret hiding spot in the tall wooden cabinet my grandfather had constructed decades ago.

I slid hidden panels and lifted secret boxes until I pulled the leather-bound journal from its hidey hole. Taking a seat on a stool, I carefully flipped pages, looking for a recipe that would help with Jamie Lynn’s symptoms.

Leila Bell’s handwriting was a thing of beauty. Scripted letters that bespoke of a different era when people took pride in their penmanship. That being said, over the years, the book had deteriorated some, and various splashes and spills marred the pages. Some were near impossible to read. I’d been telling myself for years to
recopy what I could, but there was something so magical about
this
book,
these
pages, that I hated to put this one away forever.

After a few minutes of searching, I came across a potion to ease muscular aches and pains. I searched another few minutes for something that would help with nerve pain specifically but found nothing. Which wasn’t all that surprising considering there probably wasn’t much known about nerve conditions when Leila Bell was alive.

I tapped a page and wondered—not for the first time—if I should try concocting my own recipes. I’d always relied on the tried and true, but maybe it was time to branch out.

I let down the leaf in the cabinet, providing me with ample work surface. A counter to my left, below the pass-through window, also had plenty of space and housed a sink.

Sunbeams poked through the front windows of the shop as I gathered ingredients from the baskets and bins of dried herbs, essential oils, and supplements for the potions I needed to make. Agrimony, barberry, bee balm, and a few others for Jamie Lynn’s potion, and pine oil and rosemary for the bone-healing potion for Marjie and Gabi. I preheated the oven in the break room and then headed back to the small room where all the magic happened.

As I chopped the agrimony, releasing a lemony scent, I thought about Jamie Lynn’s ailments and wished I knew exactly what was causing her nervous system to attack. I racked my brain to match symptoms to diseases and started to wonder if it was a parasite of some sort.
The warm waters of the South were breeding grounds for all sorts of microscopic bugs that could wreak havoc on a body. And it would also explain why I hadn’t been able to read the disease right off the bat—I couldn’t diagnose what I’d never experienced.

I smiled at the recollection of an old memory, of Grandma Adelaide sneaking me into hospitals in Huntsville to visit “a dear friend,” when in reality we’d go from room to room and
feel
what was wrong with the patients. It was how I’d first learned to diagnose. These days, security was much tighter, but back then, those little trips had been more invaluable than medical school would have been.

The phone rang, and I dashed into the front room to answer.

“Carrrrrly,” my mama wailed. “The wedding’s been canceled.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

She said, “What am I to do with the thousands of dollars’ worth of flowers sitting in my chapel? I ask you, what am I to do?”

I winced, having forgotten about the floral delivery. “The Calhouns are still covering the cost, right?” I hated thinking of my mama being on the hook for such a big expense.

“That’s not the point, baby girl,” she said shrilly. “The point is I can’t walk down the aisle of the chapel for the roses, hydrangeas, and peonies filling the place!”

“Mama, take a deep breath.” And a tranquilizer. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

She sniffled. “You’ll come over and help out your mama like the good girl you are?”

Mama was a good actress, I’d give her that, but when you had been part of her theatrics for thirty years, you knew when you were being played. “You want my help with those chairs, don’t you?”

“Oh! Now that you mention it, that’d be wonderful. You’re such a sweet girl for offering.” Her voice sharpened. “There’s three hundred of them that need to be folded up, stacked up, and put up as soon as possible. When can you come by?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I need to find someone to cover the shop for me.”

“If that’s more important that your ma—”

I cut her off. “I’ll see you when I see you, Mama. I have to go.”

“But—”

I hung up.
Mercy.
She could have at least bribed me with cupcakes. It was the only decent thing to do.

After grabbing two potion bottles—fuchsia—from the colorful display, I headed back to my work. In no time at all, I had the herbal part of the recipes done. I funneled Marjie’s and Gabi’s into the pink bottles and turned my attention to Jamie Lynn’s potion. I wanted her to drink it as a tea, so her method of delivery was a little different. I went back to the cabinet and unearthed the Leilara from its hiding spot and twisted the top off the tiny silver flask. I inserted a dropper and sucked up enough drops for all three potions.

Over Jamie Lynn’s bowl of herbs, I squeezed in two droplets, for Marjie’s and Gabi’s just one. White tendrils of magic rose up, swirling and twirling before dissipating. I capped the flask and replaced it and the grimoire back in the cabinet and closed it up tightly.

I added distilled water to the fuchsia bottles and stoppers, then shook them, watching the bits of herbs and oil floating in the liquid. I set them aside and turned my attention to Jamie Lynn’s. I scraped the magical concoction onto a baking sheet, then headed to the oven in the break room. I needed the now-wet herbs to dry. I baked the herbs for five minutes, then quickly put the mixture into a tea filter and pulled the drawstrings tightly to close it up. I then placed that tea bag into a purple velvet pouch and set about printing up directions.

I’d just placed the last instruction label on the tags when I heard a knock at the door. I glanced through the pass-through and saw a gangly young man peering into the shop.

Junior McGee.

I owed Ainsley big time for this one.

I wiped my hands on a dish towel and quickly pulled open the door. He smiled broadly when he saw me and said, “My mama sent me over. She says hello, and wanted me to give you this.” He handed over some sort of loaf wrapped in foil.

I sniffed it. “Banana bread?”

“She makes the best in town.”

“I don’t doubt it.” I motioned him into the shop and toward a stool at the big worktable. “Thank her for me, will you?”

“Will do.” He grinned again.

I bet he made a lot of money in tips. He just had a happy, easygoing way about him. “Thanks for stopping by,” I said. “You want a Coke? Some coffee?”

“No, thanks. But, Miss Carly, I’m not altogether sure why I’m here,” he said, shrugging.

I tucked my hair behind my ear and said, “I don’t really know how to explain it, other than to say you have information I need.” I sat next to him. “I need to know all about Katie Sue Perrywinkle’s visit to the Delphinium last night.”

His eyes flared for a second. “Sure thing. I’m feeling badly for Jamie Lynn. Terrible shocking what happened.”

“You know Jamie Lynn?”

“Same graduating class.” He shrugged again. “Heard she’s been sick, too. Been meaning to pay her a visit, but . . . just haven’t yet.”

I swung my locket on my chain. “Sometimes it’s awkward to see someone you know sick like that, but just remember she’s still the same ol’ girl underneath.”

He didn’t look like he believed me.

“I didn’t realize it was Katie Sue who’d come in last night—I didn’t recognize her or nothin’. She was just acting strange, so she stood out.”

“Strange how?”

“Real nervous.” He brushed long bangs off his forehead, swooping them off to the side. “Fidgety. Kept getting up, walking around.” He ducked his chin and his leg wiggled.

“What else?” I pressed, because he was nervous about something.

“I probably shouldn’t say anything, but maybe it doesn’t matter, because she’s dead? But that’s also why I think I should tell you.”

“What?” I asked, feeling nervous just from sitting next to him.

“She paid Jimmy Banks five hundred dollars to slip something into someone’s drink.”

My jaw dropped.

“He couldn’t turn down that kind of money, not with his mama just losing her job. . . .”

“What did he slip and into whose drink?”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know what it was. It was purple liquid stuff in a little vial.”

Delia’s hex, no doubt. “Do you know whose drink?”

“All I know is it was one of the fancy women.”

Mercy.
Had she hexed Louisa Calhoun with baldness? I imagined the matriarch waking up today, losing handfuls of hair. She wasn’t going to handle that well at all.

Or had it been Cassandra? Or Gabi?

Oh, that Katie Sue had gumption to spare.

“Where can I find Jimmy?” I asked.

“He’ll be working tonight. Starts at four.”

“Thanks, Junior, you’ve been really helpful. You can tell Jimmy I’ll be stopping by.”

“You’re not going to”—he winced—“get him into trouble, are you?”

“Why? Because he spiked a customer’s drink with an unknown substance? Could have been poison in that vial for all he knew.”

Color bloomed on his cheeks. “When you say it like that . . .”

“But no, I don’t aim to get him in trouble,” I said, sliding off my stool, “however, I might scare a little sense into him.”

But only
after
I found out who’d been hexed.