THE WITCH AND THE TEA PARTY (A Rachael Penzra Mystery) (20 page)

“Are you and she a couple?” I asked.

“No, at least not from my point of view,” he smirked. “Not that I couldn’t make a move on her if I wanted.
She’d be no use in a tight situation, so there couldn’t be anything serious between us.”

Although I’d been reading more and more about survivalists, I hadn’t figured on ever knowing one personally. I did wonder how wise it was to advertise your position to the world. If I had that mindset, I think I’d store supplies, learn skills, and collect what I thought I’d need. I wouldn’t tell people about it. They’d know right where to come when they needed my hoard. But I guess there are all sorts of ways to survive. Even while I was thinking that, one part of my mind decided it wouldn’t hurt to collect a few basics and pack them away for emergencies.

“What can you tell me about the others who were there?” I asked, pulling my mind back to the task at hand. “It’s hard to tell much from my aunt’s and Dora’s descriptions.” I ignored his snort of contempt, and plowed on. “They hadn’t met anybody except Mrs. Brown-Hendricks before that night.”

“Let’s see, what can I tell you?” He pretended to muse over it, but I had the feeling he was bursting to fill my weak little mind with his impressions. “Those sisters, for starters,
you’d think they were joined at the hip. They do everything together, but they seem to hate each other. I have no idea why Frances let them hang around. She didn’t act as though she liked them all that much, but then suddenly, about two months ago, they were her new BFFs. I think they might be more distant relatives of some sort. Maybe they know about a family skeleton or something.

“That Brandon
Mandrell is a poor excuse for a man. An accountant, for God’s sake. What man wants to spend his life adding up numbers? His wife is a pretty little thing. She’s either madly in love with her hubby or his money. Can’t see it being him. She spent the whole night talking about how wonderful he is, what a great employee. Half gagged me listening to her.

“Karen, of course, is in love with good old Nick. She acts like a teenager around him. Frances ignored her for the most part, but you can bet she intended to put a stop to that situation before it got out of hand. She’s some kind of whiz kid in the advertising field, if you can imagine that. She doesn’t act like she has too much in the brain department, but with artistic people you never know.

“Now that brother of hers is a piece of work. No known source of income, as they say. Ha. I can tell you what his source is, and it isn’t going to be pretty if the cops find evidence in his sister’s apartment. He lives there with her, lives off her for the most part. He’s a dealer, no doubt about that in my mind. He doesn’t hesitate to hint around about it when he first meets you. Sort of testing the water, if you know what I mean. Didn’t work with me. I don’t touch that crap. He caught on fast enough and he hasn’t bothered me since.

“When I think about it,” he narrowed his eyes and watched my face to see what my reaction was going to be to his next remark. “It’s more than likely that Frances decided to take care of the problem of Karen by turning in her brother. She’d be smart enough to make good and sure the sister was smeared with the mess.”

I made my face reflect awe at his cleverness. Actually, it was the most useful thing he’d said all evening, and well might have some bearing on the case. The trouble was that I was afraid he’d already shared all that with the sheriff, so we wouldn’t have an inside track. “That is the best motive I’ve heard,” I told him. “If it’s true. I don’t know how I’d ever be able to find out any more about it. I’m not very informed about that sort of thing.”

“You can bet he’s not selling it on the street,” he said. “He’s using the contacts he makes with the middle-class and higher. That provides him with a little protection from a sting. He strikes me as the type who’d look after his hide.”

I almost laughed. He sounded so disgusted. Apparently his own claim to taking care of number one at all costs didn’t conflict with his contempt for others who were of the same mind-set. He was probably jealous of the good thing Quentin seemed to have going for him.

“Maybe you should mention your idea to the sheriff,” I said.

“Not likely!” He seemed surprised at the idea I’d think such a thing. “Best way to get along with the law is to never be noticed. Besides, it’s not bad information to keep to yourself in case you suddenly need it.”

Poor man. He certainly was a mass of contradictions. Keep it to yourself. Ha. Hadn’t he noticed that he’d just passed the idea on to me? Or did he think I was too slow to d
o anything with the possibility? I had the feeling that he didn’t think much of me or my intellect. Didn’t it occur to him that I’d pass the notion on to his buddy? Or was it a way to remove Quentin and maybe his sister from the scene. Chances were that Nicholas wouldn’t want any connection between himself and any illegal actions, at least until things were cleared up. And absence, in this case, probably wouldn’t make the heart any fonder. Once Karen was out of the picture, it was more than likely that someone else would quickly fill the void.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” I brought the interview toward a close. I thought I probably had heard all there was to hear from him, and I was tired. “You really seem to have a good grasp on things around you.” That was purely self-serving. I might want to talk to him again and he was the type to respond to flattery.

He certainly was, as I immediately found out, much to my chagrin. He stood and smiled at me, staring into my eyes. “You know, you’re a pretty woman, and you’ve got a nice setup here with the store and all. I can see that you and I have a lot in common. Maybe I’ll give you a ring sometime and we can see just how much.” He smirked outwardly.

I gagged inwardly. “I’m awfully busy this time of year,” I smiled as best I could manage. “But it sounds like it might be interesting.”

He winked. “I’ll keep you in mind,” he assured me.

Thank goodness he left without
making any physical pass. I don’t think David would have been capable of remaining quietly on the stairs and letting me handle it. I had no doubt I would have managed just fine, but male egos… Poor things.

As it was, the car had barely backed out of the driveway when David entered the room. “That moron didn’t touch you, did he?”

“No, of course not. We had the table between us and I had no intention of seeing him politely to the door,” I laughed. It was a genuine laugh, too. I was enjoying his jealousy, so unexpected from him. It was perfectly natural behavior considering our relationship, but he had always been so cautious in the past, never infringing on anything that might be considered my territory.

I gave him a good solid kiss. “I’d better call Aunt Myrtle before she barges in. She’ll be watching from Dora’s, I’m sure.”

He returned the kiss with good measure, but didn’t try to prolong things. “We’re going to have to take an evening off from these sessions,” he threatened.

Sounded good to me.

Aunt Myrtle, much to my surprise, didn’t seem in any hurry to get back and hear what had gone on. “I’ll be there shortly,” she promised, but she didn’t mention what was holding her up.

“I think they’re up to something again,” I told David when I got off the phone. “I got a flash of what she was thinking. It had something to do with trees or something.”

He looked puzzled for a moment, but brushed the worry aside. He simply cannot get it through his head that she’s devious, dangerous, and deceitful. “Probably something about gardening,” he said vaguely.

I answered the phone. Fortunately David seems to find nothing odd or unusual in my propensity for hearing bells in my head before they ring
for the rest of the world. It was Patsy, wondering if the coast was clear. I assured her that it was. If I ever got a moment, I intended to talk to her about Aunt Myrtle’s odd behavior. She, at least, wouldn’t blow me off. She knew her great aunt too well.

David sighed and prepared to leave. “At least I’m getting free meal
s with the woman I love every night,” he said.

“Who said they were free?” I teased.

“I’m paying by not complaining about all the time together we’re losing—private time.”

We nuzzled and kissed as intimately as possible in the entryway, knowing my aunt
could pop through the door any moment. Reluctantly we parted, he heading toward the great outdoors and me to let the dogs inside.

Aunt Myrtle
did show up as David pulled out of the driveway and she was already replaying the tape while I finished clearing up the dishes from the captain’s visit. She’s becoming a regular techno-nerd. Whatever had happened to the sweet, naïve, auntie of old? “I don’t know which of those men at the party is the most repulsive,” she said. “And I’m not crazy about any of the women, either. I talked to the Shelley Lang sister. She seemed pleasant enough, but her sister interrupted before I really got to know her.”

“We’re hearing them at their worst on the tapes,” I reminded her. “They have to be a little nervous sitting here being grilled.”

“I’d hardly call what you’re doing ‘grilling’,” she told me, quite critically. “You need to ask tougher questions and keep at them.”

“I’m playing ‘good cop’ during this round of questioning,” I explained. When
had she become an expert on grilling suspects? Next she’d be wanting me to install a floodlight to shine in their faces.

“That makes sense,” she conceded. “Maybe when you get down to serious que
stioning, I should be present, you know, kind of guiding you.”

Thankfully I had nothing in my mouth, so I didn’t choke. “I think I have to do this alone. We don’t want Nicholas knowing we’ve got the original tape and are taping these sessions. He’d demand to hear them, and he’d have some rights, at least with the ones we’re recording now. You and Moo…
Dora
might want to make a list of ideas about what I should ask. That might help me.”

“A crib sheet,” she sounded delighted.
“You could write a few of the more important things on your palm. Or maybe we could have some with large print displayed in a drawer by the coffee pot. You could slide it open and glance at the questions when you get up to offer more coffee.”

“That’s a good idea,” I perked up at the thought. “I think I’ll pass on the hand idea, but if the print is nice and big and the questions are separated by a line or two, I should be able to
get a half dozen of them into the conversation. They have to be ones I can fit in easily,” I warned her. “I’m not good at interrogation, so they’ll have to suit my style.”

She looked a little disheartened, but that didn’t discourage her for long. “We’ll just write down the main questions to remind you what you need to dig into. You can work them in however you want.”

Sure, hit the ball back into my court. “Only about half a dozen,” I insisted. “I don’t want a long list. It’ll just confuse me.”

Unfortunately for my ego, she seemed to accept that without demur. I really need to work out a program that makes people respect me more. Maybe I should take a course of some kind, but the mere thought of needing one was rather depressing.

Patsy arrived and broke up my morbid train of thought. “I can’t wait to hear what he had to say. If he really is into the survivalist thing, he’ll make sure he brings up every motive anybody else might have. Joe looked him up, and it sounds like he’s got a pretty unsavory past. Not many convictions except for petty stuff, but the law is keeping an eye on him.”

Aunt Myrtle quickly restarted the session. My niece added, in a casual aside to me, “I’ve made up a list of questions for you to ask from now on.” She dug into her purse and dragged out several sheets of typing paper. “I think you need to be more specific when you talk to them.”

My aunt smirked a little, but said nothing.

I relapsed into my depression.

I was still sulking a little the next morning when Nicholas called to tell me that my next visitor would be one of the sisters, whichever one won the argument about who should go first. From his dry tone of voice, I assumed he’d given up on mediating the argument. “When I mentioned that whoever went second would have the advantage of knowing what to expect, they didn’t like that idea either.”

I sympathized and assured him I would just take whoever came first, and then talk to the other one the next night, he seemed relieved. Coming from the large family that I do, I knew there was no sense in eit
her of us, or anybody else for that matter, trying to make peace between siblings.  Sometimes brothers and sisters can make one understand the concept of devouring one’s young.

We amused ourselves off and on during the day
by laying odds on which sister would arrive triumphantly at the door that evening. Aunt Myrtle, the only one of us who’d met them, came down heavily on the side of Stella, but that might only have been because she’d talked to her personally. Just to keep things balanced, I favored Martha.

As it turned out, we’d underestimated both sisters. When I opened the door, it was to the two of them, standing side by side. Awkward. I smiled
weakly at the space between them.

“We’ve decided to come together,” I was informed. “Neither of us has anything to hide from the other.” That was Martha. At least my choice had gotten the first word in. Did that make me a winner?