Spelling Mistake (The Kitchen Witch Book 4) (7 page)

“No, I don’t,” Samantha said. “I wish I did. I’d like to see that, that…
woman
end up in prison.”

Chapter 14

I didn’t think it would be hard to cater the official opening of the new Council Chambers. After all, we were only catering the cakes. There were no meals being served, and we didn’t even have to make the coffee, which was just as well, because neither Thyme nor I were trained baristas. I was good at drinking the stuff, but I had no idea how to make it professionally.

Thyme and I had spent the previous day baking. To be more precise, Thyme had spent the previous day baking and I had been her assistant, running around and collecting ingredients for her—and no, I hadn’t mixed up the salt and the sugar. I hoped so, anyway. I had done all the frosting, and had done a good job, if I do say so myself.

There had been no sign of Fred, or Alder for that matter. I was a little upset. If Alder had meant to kiss me, then why hadn’t he contacted since?

I carried a tray of lemon meringue cupcakes from Thyme’s car to the back of the new Council Chambers building, in which was their cramped but spotless kitchen. Not a cockroach in sight. That didn’t surprise me. Cockroaches could survive a nuclear holocaust, but not a Bayberry Creek winter. Thyme had tried to teach me to make meringue the previous week, but I’d made rubber instead. Perhaps I should patent it.

“More boring speeches,” Thyme said, as she struggled under a huge load of strawberry basil shortcake cupcakes.

“We don’t have to be in there listening,” I pointed out. “Don’t forget, we’re setting out the cakes for afterward, so we can stay in here meanwhile.”

“And eat as many cupcakes as we like,” Thyme said, punctuating her remark by popping a peach cobbler cupcake in her mouth.

I pulled a face. “Thyme, don’t eat all the merchandise.”

“Go on, you know you want to,” she said through a full mouth of crumbs.

I shrugged and devoured a raspberry pavlova cupcake.

“So what’s happening with Alder?” she asked me.

I finished eating the cupcake before I spoke. “What do you mean?”

Thyme gave me a playful swat. “You know what I mean! Are you guys dating, or what?”

“I don’t really know,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

“Well, did he kiss you?”

I felt my cheeks flush, and that was a giveaway. Thyme opened her mouth to say more, but then the hunky constable along with the dour Sergeant Tinsdell walked into the kitchen. I was relieved. I didn’t want to get into the whole did-the-entity-make-Alder-kiss-me-or-not scenario, not right now.

The constable stopped and smiled at Thyme, while Sergeant Tinsdell walked straight over to me. “What are you doing here, Miss Spelled?”

I bit back the urge to say ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ and instead said, “I’m catering the cupcakes to be served after the opening.”

The sergeant simply nodded and walked into the main room, where people were already collected. The constable smiled at Thyme again and then followed him. The two officers took seats at the back of the room.

I turned to Thyme. “So what’s happening with you and Constable Gorgeous?”

Thyme stared at a spot on the wall. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I smiled. Now that I had some ammunition, I figured that Thyme wouldn’t give me the third degree about Alder to such an extent, not now that I could get my own back.

I busied myself setting out the cupcakes onto nice plates, and onto cupcake tier stands. I had recently bought some vintage and antique bone china stands for occasions such as these. I arranged some cookies and cream cheesecake cupcakes on a Royal Albert china stand that featured a pretty rose design with gold trim and polka dots. Thyme set some triple chocolate cupcakes on a Tuscan china stand, their color set off nicely by the pale mint green of the china. The sugary aroma was hard to resist.

It didn’t take long, and soon we had finished. “This is boring,” Thyme complained.

“You’re telling me,” I said. “And I had to shut the shop to be here, so I’m likely losing business.”

Thyme rearranged some red velvet cupcakes. “When your business grows, you can employ another staff member.”

“That’ll be the day,” I muttered. “Why are all the speeches so boring? Why can’t anyone make an interesting speech? You know, like a speech from a soap opera. That would be funny. I wish they would.”

Thyme agreed with me. “This speaker acts like he thinks an election’s coming up. He’s singing his own praises. It would be comical if it wasn’t so boring.”

I laughed, and then joined Thyme at the doorway. I could see everyone was restless. I hoped the speakers didn’t go overtime, because I wanted to get this over with and head back to the shop. The speaker continued in a monotone, albeit a loud one. “Do you think we could leave, just for a bit?” Thyme asked, but I knew she was joking.

“I’m going to sit down and read a book on my phone,” I told her. “Do you have any books downloaded to your phone?”

Thyme’s face brightened considerably. “What a good idea!”

Just then everybody gasped. I looked into the main room to see that a new speaker was at the microphone on the stage. Judging by everyone’s reactions, this speaker wasn’t boring. My stomach sank. I knew at once what was going on.

“Yes, we owe a big thanks to Councilor Robinson for his speech here today. Why do I say this? Well, it was good of him to leave his lunch with his
assistant
, the young and beautiful Miss Austin.” Another collective gasp went up from the crowd.

Thyme turned to me. “Did you wish for anything?”

“I must have,” I said. “What are we going to do?”

“Well, unless you can figure out how to banish him on the spot, there’s nothing we
can
do.”

I stood there, frozen to the spot, my hands pressed to my cheeks, as Fred continued his speech. “I wish you’d stop!” I said. Nothing happened, so I added, “I wish you’d stop speaking right now.”

Fred kept speaking, although he looked up at me and smiled. “Why didn’t that work?” I said to Thyme.

“How should I know?” she asked me. “Perhaps he has to fulfill your first wish at the expense of later wishes? I have no idea.”

“And which Councilor said he was on a business trip to the Sunshine Coast, but there was no business involved. Not if you don’t count
funny
business.” Fred paused to laugh. “And what about the Councilor who always expands his expenses sheet? I think you’ll find those expensive airfares to Sydney are fabricated, considering he drove and didn’t fly.”

At that point, someone killed the sound to Fred’s microphone. Fred waved and walked off the stage.

“I suppose it could’ve been worse,” Thyme said. “Just don’t say the W word anymore.”

I nodded, too afraid to speak. Just then, I caught sight of the detectives standing at the back of the building. “Look, Thyme, it’s the detectives. They must think the murderer’s in the room.”

“Chances are that the murderer
is
,” Thyme said. “I sure hope the detectives are making more progress than we are.”

“We’re not making any more progress at all,” I said.

Thyme nodded solemnly. “Exactly.”

The speeches came to an abrupt end after that, so it was lucky that Thyme and I had the cakes already set out nicely. The barista didn’t even have the coffee machine warmed up, so everyone headed for the cakes.

I was so busy working that I didn’t hear someone speaking to me. I looked up with a start to see Helen Harden. “Amelia, I’m so glad you’re not sitting, for once. How’s your back?”

“Much better, thanks.”

“You should book another appointment.’

I was about to say that I didn’t think it necessary, when Thyme caught my eye and nodded her head ever so slightly. “Yes, that’s a good idea,” I said. “I’ll call and make a booking when I’m finished here.”

Helen smiled, selected a vanilla cupcake, and turned away to engage in conversation with an elderly lady.

“What was all that about?” I asked Thyme.

“Remember when she said Scott cheated them out of some land, and her husband looked annoyed? Make an appointment and then pump her for information! Not just about her own problems with Scott, because she probably has more dirt on him than that.”

“What a good idea,” I said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that sooner.”

Chapter 15

Every particle of air in the room was overcome by the pungent smell of oil of wintergreen. I was lying in traction once more, but thankfully, there had been no sign of Fred.

I was even beginning to enjoy myself, although that was probably too strong a statement. I was relaxing, but it did seem a waste of time, considering that my back had felt fine for the last day or so. Still, this was a fact finding mission. I hadn’t found too many facts yet, but I was waiting for the right time. Unfortunately, Helen hooked me up to the machine and then left the room. She was speaking to someone on the phone, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying, as the door was shut. She did sound quite angry, given that her voice was raised, but I just couldn’t make out the words.

As I lay there, I became more and more anxious that I wouldn’t find out anything, so I decided to listen in. I carefully unstrapped myself and tiptoed to the door.

“No, I didn’t tell the cops!” I heard Helen say. “Anyway, he’s dead, so you should be relieved. That takes care of
your
problem, but it doesn’t take care of ours.”

Unfortunately for me, she then lowered her voice. I pressed my ear to the door, but I couldn’t hear any more words, not enough to make sense. Who on earth was she speaking to? I really had to find out.

I was deciding whether to go back and try to strap myself in, when Helen’s voice rose again. “Yes, but why don’t the cops ask Kayleen? Scott sold her a block of land. He told her the sewer system was available and close, but he lied. It turned out that the sewer was a long way away. That meant that she couldn’t build a house on it, not unless she put in a very expensive sewer pump station. The cost was prohibitive, so she was stuck with the block. She couldn’t even sell it, not for anywhere near the price she paid for it. Now that block’s just a millstone around her neck.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “Yes, Kayleen’s a mean piece of work. I wouldn’t put it past her to murder someone, not at all. If you ask me, she’s the one who killed him!”

There was silence for a while. I started to move back to the table, when Helen spoke again. “No one knows he was blackmailing you. No, I won’t tell the cops. You don’t need to worry. Truly.”

I wasn’t game to push my luck, so I hurried back to the table. Just as well I did, as Helen came in the room while I was attaching the buckles to my ankles.

“Amelia, what are you doing?”

“I thought you must’ve left, so I was going to look for you.”

Helen smiled. “No, remember I said it would take fifteen minutes? You have another five.”

I laid down and she closed the straps. I had to think fast. Who had she been speaking to on the phone? Someone was blackmailing the victim and didn’t want the police to know. It wasn’t Kayleen, because Helen had mentioned Kayleen, but Kayleen herself did have a motive for murder. Still, I had to find out who Scott was blackmailing. Could it have been his ex-wife, Penny? She was in town at the time of the murder. I spoke as Helen was adjusting the traction machine. “I didn’t see Penny Plank at the memorial service, although I did see her in town the other day.”

Helen nodded. “There was no love lost between Penny and Scott. She’d hardly go to the memorial service for him. I’m sure she won’t even go to his funeral.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to inject surprise into my voice. “I assumed Penny was only in town for the service.” Helen shook her head, but didn’t say anything, so I continued. “Do they have any children?” So as not to appear to be too nosy, I added, “It would be awful if they did.”

Helen made her way to the door. As her hand reached the door knob, she turned to me. “Yes, she has three children.”

“How awful,” I said, “losing their dad.”

Helen frowned. “They haven’t seen him for years. The divorce was very nasty, and he did everything he could to avoid giving Penny child support. She really hated him.”

Helen left, leaving me once more alone with my thoughts. Was Scott blackmailing his ex-wife? Even if he wasn’t, she appeared to have had a nasty relationship with him. Yet was that enough reason to give her a motive for murder? And why had she been in town at the very time her husband was murdered?

And, if it wasn’t Penny, who was the person on the other end of the phone? Scott had been blackmailing whoever it was. And Kayleen was even more so looking like a probable suspect.

I now had more questions than answers.

Chapter 16

After work, Thyme and I headed straight to Ruprecht’s shop,
Glinda’s
. I had received a brief text from Alder saying he was out of town, and would be in touch as soon as he got back. I supposed that was better than nothing.

Camino was already there, as was Mint. Camino, thankfully, was for once dressed in her street clothes. “We’re exhausted,” Mint said with a sigh. “We’ve been reading through translations of ancient texts to try to find a way to banish Fred.”

Ruprecht shook his finger at her. “Now Mint, I told you it would be no use. Amelia’s the only one who can banish that spirit.”

I yawned and stretched. I wasn’t in a spirit-banishing mood. The last few days had left me tired.

“How about a nice cup of hot lavender tea?” Ruprecht asked me.

“Thanks, but I think I’m calm enough already,” I replied. “I don’t suppose there’s any wine on offer?”

Mint held up her own wine glass. “Sure is! Red or white?”

“White would be great, thanks.”

Soon we were all sitting around Ruprecht’s table. That’s how Ruprecht preferred it when we held meetings such as this one.

The light was dim, being provided only by the candles that perched in the sockets of the sconces, as well as three black verbena-scented candles in the center of the table.
Glinda’s
always held a suggestion of the otherworldly. Who knew what shades dwelled in the recesses of its recesses and alcoves? Glinda’s was entirely enigmatic, and that was one of the reasons I loved the store.

I drew my attention back to the matter at hand. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Ruprecht, how has the spirit managed to get into my house, yet hasn’t been in yours? I assume you have your house spelled somehow to keep it out?”

“That’s right, Amelia. I have protection spells and wards all over my house.”

“I would’ve thought my house had those. I suppose I need to put some up?”

The others laughed. “No Amelia,” Ruprecht said. “Your house
itself
is a ward, one big ward. If that spirit meant you any harm, it wouldn’t have been able to get into the house.”

“But surely the spirit isn’t well meaning toward me?” I said in disbelief.

“Not everything is black and white,” Ruprecht said. “Haints themselves have different personalities. This appears to be a mischievous haint. Has it taken your keys or perhaps your purse?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have your keys been misplaced lately, and then you’ve looked for them, only to find them appear somewhere that you had already looked?”

I frowned. “No, that hasn’t happened.”

Ruprecht appeared to be thinking that over for a few moments. “Okay, well then, I still think it’s a trickster type of spirit, but it least it isn’t doing anything like that. That’s something to be grateful for, I suppose.”

“Have we ruled out Fred as a murderer then?” I said hopefully.

Ruprecht shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Amelia. It does appear to be a haint with some sort of a sense of humor, but a haint’s sense of humor is not that of a human’s. I suggest you figure out how to come into your powers, and banish him, as soon as you are able.”

I was frustrated. “But how? You’ve said that before. How do I find a way to come into my powers?”

Ruprecht looked solemn. “Only you can find that answer, Amelia. For that, you need to look deep inside yourself.”

I nodded, although I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. I just hoped he wouldn’t go on to quote Confucius, Socrates, or Master Yoda.

“Amelia found out something interesting today,” Thyme informed them.

I shot her a grateful look for changing the subject. “Yes, I went to Helen Harden, the physical therapist, for another back treatment, but really to try to get information. As you know, at the memorial service she said that Scott had cheated her over a land deal.”

“So you found out about that, did you?” Camino said.

“No I didn’t, so we still need to find out about that,” I said. “But I overheard her talking to someone on the phone. She seemed quite annoyed about something, and she promised the person that she wouldn’t tell the cops that Scott was blackmailing whoever it was.”

Ruprecht leaned forward, the candlelight flickering over the sharp angles of his face. “Did she mention a name?”

“No, that’s just it. She didn’t. But she did mention Kayleen’s name, so obviously she wasn’t speaking to Kayleen. She did mention that Scott sold Kayleen a piece of worthless land. Apparently, he told her the sewer service was available, but he lied. Now Kayleen’s stuck with the property.”

“We need to look into that more,” Ruprecht said. “We now know that he swindled Kayleen, and also cheated Helen and her husband Henry over some land. We need to find out the specific details, because that is likely to have some bearing on the murder.”

“Who would know about it?” Thyme asked.

I shrugged. “It’s a wonder the whole town doesn’t know.”

“It shouldn’t be too hard to get the information,” Ruprecht said. “Now let’s look at the facts before us. Scott Plank had crooked dealings with Kayleen, and with Henry and Helen Harden. He was also blackmailing someone else.”

“And there’s more,” I said. “Helen told me that Penny Plank despised her ex-husband. She said that Penny would never have gone to his memorial service, and she doubted Penny would even go to the funeral. She didn’t tell me why Penny was in town the day of Scott’s murder—I mean, I don’t think she knew. The only other piece of information I got out of her was that Scott did everything he could to avoid paying child support to Penny.”

One of the candles on the table had burned all the way down, so Ruprecht replaced it with another large black candle, and lighted it. He sat back down and stared at the flame for a while. “So that gives us five suspect groups,” he said finally. “And in no particular order, they are Fred, Penny Plank, Helen and Henry Harden, Craig and Kayleen, and the mysterious blackmailer.”

“Where do we go from here?” I asked him. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I at once feared he would tell me one again to come into my own and banish the haint, while quoting ancient philosophers in a dead foreign language, so I hurried to add, “I think we need to find out what Penny Plank was doing in town at the time.”

“Quite right,” Ruprecht said, and to my relief, he didn’t say anything more.

“And we need to find out who the blackmailer was,” Camino said, “but I have no idea how we’re going to do that.”

Ruprecht cleared his throat. “Something we
can
do is find out about Scott’s crooked land deals. I’m quite sure that if he cheated Kayleen as well as Helen and Henry Harden, then he would have done the same to others as well.”

“But that could give us more than five suspects,” I said sadly.

“Maybe so,” Ruprecht said, “but it could also help us narrow down the suspects. Tomorrow is Saturday, so Amelia, why don’t you and Thyme drive to Port Macquarie to see what you can find out about Penny Plank? Perhaps she’s having an affair with someone from Bayberry Creek.”

“Do you think so?” I asked, interested.

Ruprecht smiled. “No, I don’t especially think so. It was just an example of the information you could find out about her.”

“But the drive to Port Macquarie is ghastly, right down that horrible mountain,” Thyme said. “I always get carsick.”

“How long does it take to get there?” I asked.

“It’s a few hours,” Thyme said. “We can’t leave there after we shut the shop at midday and go down and back in the same day. It would be tiring—we’d be back too late at night, and besides, it wouldn’t give us much daylight to spy on her.”

“Mint can mind the shop for you.”

Mint shot a look at her grandfather, but then nodded. “I don’t mind. That’s a good division of labor. The two of you go to Port Macquarie to spy on Penny, while Ruprecht and Camino can ask questions. I’ll mind the shop.”

Thyme did not look impressed. “It’s a horrible drive. Port isn’t all that far from here, it’s just that you can’t drive fast when you’re spending most of that time going up and down the mountain road. A really winding road.”

“Doesn’t sound very appealing, but we could find out some really good information. Plus we can easily drive there and back in the one day.” I gave Thyme a reassuring smile, but she didn’t smile back.

“And Camino and I will ask around about Scott’s real estate dealings,” Ruprecht said.