Pies and Potions (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

After a short drive, we pulled up to the hotel. This was the only decent hotel in town. Luckily, the owner had put Tom at one end and had given Sydney a room at the other end. It would be awkward for them to run into each other all the time. The building looked like it hadn’t changed since the 1950s. All that was missing was poodle skirts and a hot rod parked in front.

“Have you talked to Sydney since Mr. Wibble was murdered?” Mary Jane asked as she unfastened her seatbelt.

“No. I guess she’s needed time to compose herself. Who knows, maybe the killer is looking for her, too.” I stared at the building with my hands still clutched around the steering wheel.

“I bet there’s been chaos at the Organization since this happened,” Mary Jane said, reaching for the door handle.

“I imagine so, yeah. Anyway, like I said, I bet Sydney feels really weird for having to investigate her ex-boss. I know I would.”

“What’s her next step, do you know? Has she said anything? Given you any idea of what might happen next? Other than having to shut the whole town down?” Mary Jane asked.

“No idea.” I shook my head as I hopped out from behind the wheel, threw my purse over my shoulder, then grabbed the bag with the red velvet cake. “The more I think about it, the more I think she’ll be convinced this is bribery. Can they arrest me for that?”

Mary Jane furrowed her brow in thought. “I don’t think so, but what do I know? I don’t know this magic business.”

We made our way across the parking lot to room number fourteen. Only a few cars dotted the lot. “You know, I think this is the exact room that Tom stayed in when he was here before.”

Mary Jane’s mouth fell open. “What?” she asked sharply. “You didn’t tell me you were in his room. What the heck is going on? I thought I was your best friend. You certainly don’t have to tell me everything, but I think there’s an unwritten rule somewhere that you have to tell me when you’re in a good-looking man’s hotel room. It’s best friend code or something. I’m hurt.” She folded her arms in front of her chest.

“Calm down. Nothing happened. I went to ask him to quit playing games and really help me reverse the spell on Rory. He said he was doing all that he could and I left. End of story.” I knocked on the door again, wishing that Sydney would answer before Mary Jane threw a hissy fit right there in the parking lot.

“There’s a whole lot in between that I think you’re leaving out,” she huffed.

Finally, the sound of movement came from the other side of the door.

“Who is it?” Sydney called. Anxiety sounded in her voice.

I’d be nervous about answering the door too with a killer wandering around. What if the killer wanted Sydney as his next victim? Someone could have a vendetta against the Organization. The lock rattled and Sydney inched the door open, revealing a sliver of her face.

“Sydney, how are you?” I asked.

Her hair was frazzled as if she’d just woken. We were probably responsible for ruining her nap.

“I, um, brought you some of my red velvet cake.” I thrust the cake toward her.

A sly smile slid across her face. “Bribery. I like it.” She slid the chain from the lock and opened the door, but didn’t invite us in. “Thank you.” She reached out and took the cake from my hand.

“I got your note. You wanted to see me?” I asked.

She lifted the plastic wrap from the cake, took a whiff, then set the plate down. “I’m sorry, Elly.” She could barely look me in the eyes. “Considering what happened, the Organization has authorized the shutdown of the Mystic Hollow.”

I tried to remain calm. “Don’t you think that’s a little drastic?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t make the rules, so there’s nothing I can do about it,” she said with a disapproving tone to her voice.

“Does Tom know yet?” I hadn’t seen him since the meeting and I was beginning to worry. What if something had happened to him, too. My stomach turned at the thought.

“I talked to him early this morning as soon as I found out. He said he was leaving town.”

What? How could he leave without even telling me? It wouldn’t look good to the police or the Organization that Tom had left.
We were a team now, trying to solve the crime. Why would he do this to me? I wouldn’t let this town go without a fight. “I don’t intend to allow this to happen, you know? Tom can leave if he wants, but I plan on finding out the source of the spell and Mr. Wibble’s killer.” I pointed my finger for emphasis.

She gave a pitying smile. “I admire your perseverance. Good luck to you.”

That was it? That was all she had to say? This magical organization was the worst. At least Tom had tried to help me the first time. What was I saying? He’d disappeared now, skipped out on me and left me alone in this battle. I shouldn’t be surprised. It was tough to count on anyone. Rory was right. What did I really know about Tom?

“Can I be honest with you, Ms. Blair? I think secretly you want the café to close. I don’t think you really want to be here. I think you really resent having to run the café.”

I felt Mary Jane nudge me. She was like a bull trying to break out of the gate. If I didn’t stop her, she’d let Sydney have it.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Mary Jane fumed.

I blocked her body, keeping her at bay. Sydney ignored Mary Jane’s red face.

“Forgive me, Ms. Whitman, but you don’t know what you’re talking about. I love the café. Mystic Hollow is a lot different from New York City. It’s such a laid-back town that you can almost fall asleep just walking down the sidewalk. I wouldn’t give that up for anything.”

“I don’t believe you. I think you want to go back to New York,” she said with a sly smile.

I thrust my arm out to the side, blocking Mary Jane again. I’d have to get her out of their before she did something she’d regret later. “Like I said, I love Mystic Café. It’s my life. Believe it or not, I can’t think of anything else I’d want to do. Sometimes you don’t know what you want until it’s forced on you. Thrown in your face or thrust onto your lap. I’m glad to be back in Mystic Hollow. I enjoyed New York City very much, but this is the place I want to be.”

Sydney sighed. “Fine. I’ll contact you as soon as I have more details about the town closing. Remember, no more magic, effective immediately.” She started to close the door, then added, “Oh, and thanks for the cake.”

With that, she closed the door in our faces. Mary Jane lunged past me and pounded on the door. I grabbed her arm. “Let’s go, Mary Jane. There’s nothing more we can do here.”

She spun around and stormed toward the car. “Oh, I’m so mad. I want to tear her limb from limb.”

“Remember, she’s just doing her job. Can you do me a favor?” I asked as I slipped behind the steering wheel.

“Anything,” Mary Jane said as she let out a deep breath and slid onto the passenger seat.

“Talk with Sheriff Jasper and find out anything you can about the murder. I doubt he’ll tell you anything, but it’s worth a shot. I’m going to finish where Tom and I left off yesterday.”

“I can’t believe he’d take off without saying goodbye.”

“I can’t either,” I said as I drove across the parking lot. “As you can see the parking lot is empty. His car isn’t here.” I pointed.

Who would want to harm Mr. Wibble? He was nice as far as I could tell. I mean, sure he’d wanted to close down the café, but like Sydney, he’d only been doing his job. I hadn’t held that against him. He didn’t have the most charismatic personality, but he was nice enough. And Grandma Imelda sure did like him. In fact, she’d said he kind of carried a torch for her for many years. But she had been a married woman and he’d never made any unwanted advances on her over the years. Nevertheless, I supposed everyone had enemies, even little Mr. Wibble. Rory’s ex-girlfriend sure hadn’t liked me. Luckily, she’d realized that their relationship was over and left Mystic Hollow before either one of us ended up injured.

My mind was overwhelmed with thoughts and theories about what had happened. Run-ins with people over magic spells gone wrong wouldn’t have been out of the question for Mr. Wibble. But why had someone from Mystic Hollow murdered him? As far as I knew, there were no open investigations in town. Well, other than Tom… and now me. Again. I could have told Grandma Imelda that I would be a magical disaster just waiting to happen. As a matter of fact, I thought I had told her as much.

Maybe someone had followed Mr. Wibble to Mystic Hollow and then murdered him. But why had they chosen to do it behind Mystic Café of all places? Why not in his car? Or hotel room? Had they wanted to set me up? And if so, why? So many unanswered questions.

My head was swimming. How would I ever discover the truth? At least Sheriff Jasper knew about the magic and could take that into consideration as part of the investigation. I needed to know more about Mr. Wibble. Where had he been before coming to Mystic Hollow?

“There’s the sheriff now. Here’s your chance to ask him yourself.” Mary Jane pointed as we neared the courthouse.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I pulled my old Mustang up to the curb. The sound of the engine caught the sheriff’s attention. Mary Jane straightened her shirt and smoothed down her hair.

“How do I look?” she asked.

“Fantastic, as usual.” I smiled. “Remind me to ask you about the spell you gave him when all of this mess is over,” I said as I cut the engine.

Sheriff Jasper walked up to the car and leaned down when Mary Jane opened her window.

“Sheriff Jasper, how are you today?” I nodded.

“Things could be better,” he said while ogling Mary Jane. If she thought he wasn’t interested in her she was mistaken. They looked like two love-struck teenagers. I might as well have been invisible.

I cleared my throat and they finally looked my way. “We”—I gestured toward Mary Jane–“were wondering if you’d had any new information about the murder. Do you have any idea who did it?”

Sheriff Jasper quirked an eyebrow. “Now, Elly, you know I can’t share any of that information with you.”

“And why not?” I asked, as if I didn’t know, but it was worth a shot. Mary Jane would have better luck getting answers from him, in my opinion.

“It’s an ongoing investigation that you’re not a part of, well, other than being the one to discover the body and the owner of the murder weapon.”

Oh yeah, there was that tiny detail of the murder weapon. I swallowed hard. He had me there. I couldn’t let that get me down though. I had to be tough. A sign of weakness could possibly make me look guilty, and that was the last thing I needed. Obviously, he wasn’t going to share any details with me. Darn him. But I had a secret weapon and she would be my inside source. Mary Jane could have to get information out of him. Surely, he wouldn’t be able to resist her sweet smile. A dirty trick for me to pull, sure, but I had to do something. With any luck, that magic spell was still working and he’d share a little more information with her than he’d normally intend.

“Do you ladies know of a good café? I could use some lunch.” He patted his stomach.

“The drugstore is open. They serve sandwiches.” We all knew the drugstore’s food was lousy, but I digress. If someone would take the crime scene tape down from behind my café and find the killer, I might have some customers and make it worthwhile to stay open. Okay, that was a little too snarky to say out loud, but the truth, nonetheless.

Sheriff Jasper stared, but was unable to offer a comeback to my statement. Mary Jane looked torn.

Finally I said, “Mary Jane. Why don’t you and Sheriff Jasper go to the café and make yourself a sandwich? I have a couple of important errands to run.”

By the look in Mary Jane’s eyes, I knew she was aware of what my important errands were… I was on a mission to find the killer and the practitioner behind the botched spell. Whom I knew by now were one and the same. My instincts told me that the murder and the spell happening at the same time wasn’t a coincidence.

Sheriff Jasper didn’t seem to mind my recommendation, and neither did Mary Jane for that matter.

“I am hungry,” he said with a smile.

I hopped out from behind the wheel and handed Mary Jane the keys to Mystic Café. “I’ll see you in a bit.” I winked and turned away heading down the sidewalk with one goal in mind: solve the crime.

As I made my way past Mystic Café, Henry approached. “How are you doing, darling?” he asked.

I was happy to notice there was slightly less liquor aroma following Henry these days. His wife had died several years ago and he’d never been the same. He had sold their home and moved into the little hotel in town. He lived off his retirement money. Apparently, all he’d wanted was money for his room and money to drink on. Perhaps things were turning around for him.

“Hi, Henry. Where are you headed today?” I asked.

“I’m just on my way to the bookstore. I’ve got myself a part-time job.” He puffed out his chest.

“Congratulations, Mr. Henry. That’s wonderful news.” That made me so happy. He deserved to find happiness after his wife had passed.

“Thank you, my dear.” He let out a sigh. “It’s a shame about Mr. Wibble. I guess his nephew will be happy now.” Henry shook his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you know? Bob Fisher never got along with his uncle. He just wanted to run Mystic Time Antiques.” He gestured in the direction of the store.

“I had no idea,” I said as I looked down the street.

Why didn’t anyone tell me these things? You’d think Mary Jane would have been the first one to discover this information.

“Why would his nephew be happy about his death? I’d think this would be something that would make him upset. Were they close?”

“Nah, I don’t think you would call them close. His nephew was upset because he made him run that strange museum. Bob just wanted to fool with the antiques all day long. I’m still not sure what that museum is all about. But what do I know? I’m just an old man. I never knew about that art and stuff,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

I knew what the museum was for, but I couldn’t share that information with Henry. The museum was where items with the wrong spells attached to them were stored. They couldn’t exactly throw them away. They might get into the wrong hands. Sure, they could try to reverse the bad spells attached, but there were no guarantees that it would really take effect, so for that reason, off to the museum they went. I was just glad that I didn’t have an item in there… yet. Items came in from all over the region.

“Thanks for the info, Henry.”

“You’re not trying to track down the killer yourself, are you?” he asked. “I wouldn’t want you to be hurt. Your grandmother would be devastated.”

“No, no. Nothing like that. I just like being in the loop, that’s all. Maybe I’m a little too nosy.”

“You’re just curious like your grandmother, that’s all.” He gave a little salute and continued down the sidewalk. “Talk to you later, gorgeous.”

“Bye, Henry.”

There was one place I needed to go, and that was Mystic Time Antiques. Tom had to have known that Bob Fisher was related to Mr. Wibble before I’d found out. Why hadn’t he said anything? Furthermore, wouldn’t Tom be worried about me trying to take on this mess on my own? Whatever. I didn’t need his help. Some things a girl just needed to do on her own, anyway. I’d show the Organization, and everyone for that matter, that Elly Blair could be a force to be reckoned with when she set her mind to it.

I made my way down the sidewalk. A heaviness of heat mingled with magic still hung in the air. It moved with me as I walked along the street. My T-shirt stuck to the small of my back. I reached back and moved it, the simple gesture a brief relief from the heat. My cell rang and I clicked it open. “Are you okay, Elly?” Rory asked.

“I’m fine,” I said in a less than confident tone.

“I just had this odd feeling that you needed me.” Worry sounded in his tone.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re wonderful?” I asked him.

He chuckled. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m telling you now. I think you’re wonderful. I promise I’ll be okay, and I’ll call if I need anything.”

He sighed. “All right. I’ll be waiting.”

I hung up, and after a few more steps, I arrived in front of Mystic Time Antiques. The sign dangled over the door. An open sign was displayed in the window. The outside door to the museum next door had been closed when I tried the door. It was only open two days a week. But probably closed forever if Bob had any say in it, and I guess now he would.

“May I help you?” the voice sounded from the back of the store.

I had recognized a family resemblance. I couldn’t tell his height because he sat on a stool behind the counter as he’d been sitting most of the time at the meeting, but he had the same round face and short nose.

“Oh, I’m just looking, really. Thank you.” I smiled.

My plan of action was to ease into the questions. If I bombarded him instantly, he might freeze up. I’d only been in his shop once about five years ago, which was odd really, because I liked antiques and shopping for bargains was one of my favorite hobbies.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he muttered as he looked back down at his newspaper, as if he knew I wouldn’t buy anything. At least he hadn’t kicked me out immediately.

I moved slowly across the space, picking up a few knickknacks and pretending to be genuinely interested. After moving around the perimeter of the room, I inched closer to the counter where he sat. When I neared, he looked up from his paper, almost irritated by my presence. Did he recognize me? After last night, how could he not? I’d been able to stay under the radar when Grandma had been running the café, but now everyone knew who Elly Blair was. He’d never come into the café as far as I knew other than for the meeting. Obviously, he knew about the magic and was involved, but I hadn’t heard anything about him being able to perform the magic. Hmm. How could I ask without annoying him even more?

“So, this town has been crazy lately, huh? I’m sorry about the meeting last night… if you feel I’m causing problems for Mystic Hollow.” I glanced over at him as I perused the shelf of knickknacks beside him.

“Par for the course,” he mumbled and lifted the newspaper again.

This conversation wasn’t going to be easy. I picked up a small plate and held it up. “How much for this?” Maybe he’d think I was really there to buy something.

“Four dollars.” He flipped the page.

“I could use this in the café as a decorative piece.” I turned the piece over in my hands.

He looked over and shrugged his shoulders.

I cleared my throat and continued, “Remember me from the meeting?” I ignored his scowl and smiled at him.

“I remember,” he said dryly.

If he was aware, then he knew that I was the one who’d discovered his uncle’s body. I had to offer my condolences.

“I’m very sorry about your uncle. I hope they discover who’s responsible for this very soon.”

I looked at him for a reaction. He didn’t make a move, no twitch of his lips or barely a blink of his eyes. Finally, he folded the paper and placed it on the counter, as if giving in to the fact that I wasn’t going to stop talking anytime soon. He really could work on his customer service skills. Maybe he was just being icy toward me because of his uncle. I’d have to move the conversation along in a hurry before he kicked me out of the store.

Releasing a big sigh, he said, “Thank you. I appreciate that.” He opened his mouth, then paused. After a couple seconds, he continued, “We weren’t very close.”

Unsure of what else to say, I offered, “I’m sorry.” I placed the plate on the counter in front of him. “If you don’t mind me asking, why weren’t you close to him?” Who was I kidding? Of course he would mind. I was pushing my luck by asking so many questions.

He stared me up and down, then said, “I think there was some resentment because I didn’t go into the magic business. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I had no interest in performing the magic. I’m happy with my little shop. It’s what I like. Not to mention the bane of my existence, the museum.” He gestured next door with a tilt of his head. “I hate running that thing. I’m always afraid I’ll pick up the wrong magic spell from some item that I’ve been forced to take.”

Why was he sharing all of this information with me? He’d seemed so distant one minute, and the next he was sharing his innermost feelings.

“Do you have to do it? I mean, take care of the museum? Couldn’t you just tell him no?” I asked.

“I had a responsibility to the family. Why do I have to be the one responsible for these things? Maybe now that he’s gone I won’t have to worry with the place anymore,” he said with a shake of his head.