Murder in the Mansion Page 4

  You could have heard a pin drop once the sound of his truck faded into the distance. Everybody was looking at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  Cheri Lynn rolled her eyes. "You're not just going to sit here and do nothing, are you?"

  I closed my eyes. "I don't have much of a choice. Things aren't great right now between me and Hunter, and he needs some space."

  Cheri Lynn's eyes lit with sympathy. She'd had the sight when she was alive, and since she'd died, she'd become great at picking up nuances. "It's a tough place to be, sugar. You want me to go find out what's going on?" She held up her finger. "Don't answer that. I'm gonna go over. If I learn anything, I'll let you know."

  I nodded as she faded out, then turned to the kids. "He's still struggling over the whole Katrina thing. I think he feels helpless, though I have no idea why he thinks I need protecting."

  Addy popped in just as I said it, but as usual, she seemed to know what we were talking about. Sometimes I wondered if she lurked around, eavesdropping. That wasn't quite her style, though. She raised both her brows and crossed her arms. "Really? You can't see why he'd think that?"

  Since she mentioned it, I guess I could see his point. I'd been in more than a couple scrapes since we'd met, and he hadn't been around for any of them. I guess in his place, I'd feel the same way. In just about every instance, I'd needed somebody's help to get out of the scrape, and it hadn't been his one single time.

  "Wow," I said. "You're right."

  "Of course I am," she said, flapping a hand. "But now the question is what you're gonna do now. I've already been over there. JP's been talkin' to people, and the only person anybody saw come or go was Marybeth. That doesn't bode well for her, and you know it."

  "I realize that," I said, his upcoming vacay flitting through my mind again. "But he'll do what's right and get to the bottom of it. I'm sitting this one out."

  Whoever said the road to hell was paved with good intentions was dead on.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE KIDS DID THEIR best to keep me occupied with yard games for the next hour, and I tried my hardest to be present and enjoy one of my last evenings with them. Hunter's absence—and the reason for it—were almost palpable, though, and I couldn't keep my mind from drifting to the situation every time it had one second of down time.

  The growl of a truck rumbling up the driveway caught my attention, and I turned, expecting to see Hunter. Instead, I was surprised to see Raeann. She jumped out of the truck holding something out to me as she stomped toward us.

  "Hey! What's up?" I asked. "I didn't know you were coming over."

  "I didn't know I was either," she said. "At least not until I found this"—she shoved a bundle wrapped in cloth toward me—"in the living room again, after I'd carried it to my room for the umpteeth time this morning."

  I unwrapped it and tilted my head in confusion. It was the unicorn jewelry box I'd gotten her for her birthday.

  "Are you sure you moved it?" I asked. "Beth didn't bring it down for some reason?" The question sounded ridiculous even to me. Beth—her mom and my aunt—wouldn't have gone into her room and carried her jewelry box downstairs.

  "Where was it?" I asked.

  "Sittin' right on the entry table, same as it always is when I get home," she said, scowling at it.

  "You're saying it just moves by itself?" My mind drifted back to before I'd given it to her. There had been a few times when it had turned up somewhere outside of the closet that I'd hidden it in, but I'd written it off to ... nothing, really. To be honest, I hadn't given it a second thought at the time. There had been a lot going on, and all of it had been more important that worrying about a wandering jewelry box.

  "That's exactly what I'm sayin'. The first couple times, I just wrote it off as me bein' forgetful. I'd find it on the bathroom counter instead of on my dresser, or on my desk, maybe. But then it started showing up downstairs. I may be a little scattered sometimes, but I know for a fact I didn't carry it downstairs with me from my bedroom. At least not more than once."

  I gently unwrapped the cloth from around it and turned it over in my hand, taking a closer look at it. The onyx unicorn and polished pink crystal it stood on gleamed in the light. I hadn’t overlooked any runes or magical symbols. Though I wasn't sensitive to objects, I did have a knack for feeling magic, so I closed my eyes and concentrated. Nada.

  Furrowing my brow, I flipped it over in my hand to look at the bottom of it. Squinting, I noticed an engraving that was so faint that I'd missed it every other time I'd ever looked at it. Shelby leaned forward to read it with me.

  To Barbara with love. May you always believe in magic. Grandma

  "Who's Barbara?" she asked, and I shrugged.

  "I have no idea. I bought it at an auction months ago, remember? If I'm not mistaken, there were several estates auctioned there at the same time. There were a lot of items."

  Addy had popped in just in time to hear Rae explain what was going on.

  "Didn't somethin' weird happen with that sale?” she asked me. “You ended up gettin’ outbid originally, right?"

  "Yea," I replied. "But the woman who outbid me forgot her wallet, so it defaulted to me since I'd been the next highest bidder."

  Max, who'd been sleeping by the steps, had meandered over when Rae had arrived. He yawned, showing us his big yellow donkey teeth. "And what do we think about coincidences in the life of a witch again?"

  I glowered at him even though I knew he was right. "I didn't really think of it as a coincidence at the time. I figured it was just kismet. After all, it's the perfect gift for Rae. She loves Onyx, she loves black and pink together, and she's convinced her spirit animal is a unicorn."

  "Yeah," Max said, his fuzzy eyebrows working. "Lemme guess ... it felt like it was calling to you. That it just wanted to go home with you."

  Warmth infused my face, because when he put it like that, it did seem obvious. "Something like that," I mumbled.

  Shelby took it from me and held it between both hands. She repeated my actions of a minute ago, and closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she tilted her head.

  "What?" Rae asked. "What did you feel?"

  "Nothing," she said, then puckered her lips and thought for a second. "But something."

  "What the hell does that even mean?" Rae snapped. "Did you feel anything imbued in it or not? Is it cursed?"

  Shelby shook her head. "I didn't get anything from the actual stone, but I did pick up the slightest trace of ... essence."

  Addy sighed. "The box was obviously given in love, and it was probably cherished. It could be that you're just picking up on the emotions that somebody attached to the box."

  "Maybe," Shelby said, examining the box in the same way I had. "But maybe not. I don't think it's cursed. I don't get any sense of evil from it."

  Emma, who was a heck of a witch in her own right, held her hand out. "In case you've forgotten," she said, rolling her eyes, "stones and crystals and all things cursed are kinda my specialty."

  I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of that. In addition to several other powers, Emma was a gifted earth witch and medium, not that she needed the skill much in Keyhole, where most of the ghosts pretty much let their post-living freak flags fly.

  She took the jewelry box and repeated what Shelby and I had just done. Her brow furrowed for a second, but then she opened her eyes and shook her head, her gaze not leaving the box. "Definitely nothing evil. But I'm with Shelby. I didn't feel any magic per se, but I felt ... something."

  Awesome—this day just kept getting better. I decided to head inside before I got struck by random lightning.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MAX PLODDED BESIDE me back to the house and was uncharacteristically quiet. Once we got inside, I poured myself a glass of wine, then splashed a couple fingers of scotch into his bowl.

  "Thanks," he said. "I needed that. Watching them chase the horses around was exhausting."

  I raised a brow at him. "I just bet it was. Did you even bother to help?"

  He gave me the stink eye. "It was my nap time. I barely got a wink."

  "When isn't it your nap time?" I slid into a chair at the farm-style table and took a healthy swig of my wine. "Wanna compare days?"

  He took a couple sips of his scotch. "It couldn't have been that bad."

  "Oh really? Lemme see. Suddenly, I'm able to read minds, but have no control over it. Rae's having the same power problem, but she was almost killed by her own mop and broom when she accidentally supercharged the cleaning supplies. Norm and Sammie managed to get themselves caught in a rat trap—which, thankfully, was the humane kind—but were missing overnight. Erol was beside himself. Then somebody up and gets murdered in the mansion Marybeth just bought, and then I come home to find out the horses were running willy-nilly and Raeann has a wandering jewelry box."

  He nodded. "I guess you win. Maybe you should have scotch instead of wine. Not mine, though."

  We sat in silence for a bit. I picked up a half-eaten pizza crust from my plate and nibbled on it, wondering when Hunter was going to call. When I'd checked my phone for missed texts or calls for the umpteenth time, Max frowned at me, his bushy eyebrows drawn down. "You can't will it to ring, and all your nervous energy is killing my buzz."

  "Excuse me for being anxious about somebody gettin’ murdered. I just wanna make sure I don't miss a notification."

  Cheri Lynn popped back in as I finished speaking, her face flushed. I perked up.

  "Did you learn anything?"

  She nodded, her brunette ponytail bobbing. "Well, sort of, anyway. It seems Jim's makin' a lot of noise about his house and properties sellin' like that. Apparently, he signed the whole kit and kaboodle over to Jeremy Williams a few months before he was busted, so I reckon he saw the whole tax thing playin’ out before it did. The thing is, though, he must notta done it right or somethin' because the feds refused to recognize the transfer and he’s tryin’ to appeal."

  Jim Simpson was an arrogant hick who thought he was brilliant. There's no way he wasn't turning himself inside out because his ingenious plan to con the government didn't play out the way he'd planned.

  Then it struck me who she said he’d turned it all over to. "Wait, Jeremy Williams, as in the banker?" I asked, my voice pitching a little higher.

  She curled her nose. "That would be the one. Don’t look so shocked though. He ain't as high-falutin' as everybody thinks. He used to come to Tassels and hire out private dances. We all hated him because he was handsy, and sometimes he got rough, grabbin’ us and yankin’ us around or whatever."

  Anger spiked in me for the thousandth time since I'd taken Cheri Lynn into my heart.

  "Please tell me he was in the area when Grace was killed." I said.

  "Well, sorta," she said, hovering down so that she was sitting in the chair across from me. "He was, but he's got an alibi."

  "And how solid is this alibi?"

  She wobbled her head back and forth. "Solid enough. Most see the guy he was with as a pillar of the community."

  I sighed. "Oh, no. Tell me Hunter didn't miss somebody when he cleaned up." After Hank had been murdered, Hunter took it upon himself to root out every single one of his stooges. He put away as many of them as he could right off the bat, and let the rest of them know that as soon as they stepped one toe out of line, he'd be all over them.

  She shook her head. "He didn’t exactly miss one, but this guy’s definitely shady. And smart enough that he didn’t put himself front and center. It's Mason Brooks. Supposedly they were havin’ lunch poolside at his place, discussin’ business. Mason’s house is out that direction, though of course not in the poor part."

  "Mason Brooks, as in the accountant?"

  She rolled her eyes. "You're actin' like there are a dozen Jerry Williamses and Mason Brookses in Keyhole. Of course, the accountant."

  "But he didn't even pop up on the radar when Hunter was trackin' down the names of everybody who was in bed with Hank."

  "That's not surprising. He did all their books hush-hush. He'd come to Tassels at crazy hours, like at two or three in the morning. He never ran the chance of anybody decent recognizin' him. I never even thought about him when everything was happenin'."

  "So why's he standin' up with Jerry Williams now?"

  She shrugged. "I reckon he figures it's been a couple years and the stink of the whole Hank debacle has washed off. Or maybe there's enough money in it for him to make it worth his while."

  "Did you tell Hunter this?"

  Cheri shook her head. "I came here first."

  I nodded. "Okay, well would you mind going and letting him know?"

  "Sure," she said. "Though I think folks are tryin' hard to sell him on Marybeth."

  He didn't know about the whole connection to Hank, so I was sure that to him, it looked legit. A prominent banker said he was having a business lunch with one of the town's most successful accountants. Not exactly something out of the norm, so what we needed to do was dig up some dirt on one or both of them.

  And there was only one place to go if you were lookin' for dirt. I pulled out my phone and called Coralee.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MUCH TO MY DISAPPOINTMENT, Coralee didn't answer. That wasn't entirely strange, though. She and Buddy were outdoorsy types, and there was a good chance they were doing something that involved noise and mud. I left her a voicemail, hoping she'd check her phone sooner rather than later.

  I was determined to leave well enough alone and let Hunter do his thing, so I went to the barn and saddled up Missy, my paint mare, figuring maybe a quiet, late-evening ride would sooth my nerves. Or maybe I'd let her run and we could both release some pent-up energy.

  Just as I was putting my foot in the stirrup, a green truck rumbled around the curve in the drive. Gabi, my good friend and roommate, was home from her job at the local vet's office. She pulled up in front of the barn and hopped out, smiling. I dropped my foot back to the ground and waited for her.

  It was good to see her happy. For over a year, she'd worked at a skeezy diner on the other side of town. The owner was a pig and the place was a dump. It had been soul crushing for her. When Cody's Uncle Will had finally broken down and decided to fire the dimwit he'd hired so he could find a good office manager for his veterinary clinic, it had seemed like kismet.

  Gabi had a degree in business, so it was a perfect fit. Will got to reduce his hours enough to where he could eat something that didn't come out of a greasy bag, and Gabi got to tell her old boss where he could stick his spatula. Win/win.

  "You're awfully smiley," I said as I checked the girth strap on my saddle one last time. "An extra good day at work?"

  "As a matter of fact it was," she said, her face glowing. "I got to help deliver a litter of bulldog puppies." She scrunched her nose up, her eyes twinkling. "They were so cute! I just wanted to bring them all home."

  "Absolutely not," Max grumbled from behind me. "I'll tell you the same thing I've told Noelle and Shelby—I'll not have it!"

  "Why?" Gabi asked. "You get along just fine with Wiz."

  When fate set our friend Matt in our path just when he needed us the most, he'd come with a big, goofy German shepherd named Wizard, or Wiz for short. As much as Max grumbled about him, that was all it was—grumbling. I'd caught Max sunning himself beside Wiz in the yard more than once, and I'd even seen Wiz lying on the edge of Max's bed on the porch. He wasn't fooling me. But I let it ride because Max was unique. He wasn't an animal, but he wasn't fully human anymore, either.

  "I tolerate Wiz, which is not the same thing as liking him." He waggled his long, floppy ears, something he did when he was either irritated or uncomfortable. "Besides, Wiz is a full-grown dog. He doesn't pee on my bed or nip at the end of my tail every time I flick a fly. Nor does he whine in the middle of the night or disrupt me while I'm napping." He drew his fuzzy eyebrows down. "No puppies." He shot a few ocular daggers at us for good measure then stomped away, tail swishing.

  “Well then,” I said, smiling as he huffed off, “I guess that’s that, then.”

  “Looks that way. The boss has spoken. Want some company, or would you rather go solo?" she asked, pointing with her chin toward Missy.

  "The last thing I want is to be alone with my own thoughts right now," I admitted, then smiled. "Plus, it may be a good idea to get Mayhem out of sight for a while."

  She pulled in a deep breath and released it through her nose. "Oh no. What did he do now?"

  I gave her the rundown, and she cringed. "I am so sorry."

  I shook my head and grinned at her. "No need to apologize to me. I wasn't the one who had to chase him down and clean up after him. Shelby, on the other hand, is carryin' a wicked grudge against him right now. She's probably gonna do her best to guilt you into doing chores for the rest of the time she's here. Or she'll swindle you out of some of your clothes. She's taken a particular shine to that black peasant's blouse you have."

  Rolling her eyes, she replied, "You're probably right. Let's go ride before I have to sell him to buy a new wardrobe."

  It only took her a few minutes to pull Mayhem from his stall and saddle him up, then we were on our way. Mayhem was more laid back than most of our other horses, and the running joke was that he spent all his pent-up energy plotting.

  "So are you doin' okay?" she asked, kneeing Mayhem a little closer so we could talk once we were away from the house. "I haven't been around much, between work and hangin' out with Steve, and I feel like a crappy friend. You were almost killed a couple months ago, and now Shelby is gettin' ready to leave. That's a lot to process."

  "Nah," I said, flapping my hand. "I've been keeping busy. It's been long enough since the attack that I've pretty much stopped looking over my shoulder, and I'm doing okay with Shelby leaving."