Catnip Cantrips (Twilight Hollow Witchy Cozy Mysteries Book 2) Page 3

  It was 9:30 by the time Logan exhausted every line of questioning. He stood to leave, glancing in the general direction of where I had told him Martha was. “I’ll speak to Cheryl first thing in the morning, then I’ll question your ex-husband. I may have more questions for you after that.”

  “Excellent,” Martha said. “I’ll meet you at Cheryl’s so I can tell you if she lies about anything.”

  I repeated her words to Logan.

  He narrowed his eyes.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  His lips twisted as he watched me for a moment. “I want to keep you off this case, but I can’t help but think how helpful it could be for Martha to be a silent part of the conversation with Cheryl. She could help guide my questions to reveal important truths I might not otherwise discover.”

  I grinned. “Are you saying . . . ”

  He sighed. “Do you think you could have Evie open the Toasty Bean for you in the morning?”

  I tried to hide my delight, but couldn’t quite manage. Here I was thinking I didn’t really want to be part of another murder investigation, yet the idea of questioning Cheryl had me all of a twitter. “I’ll have to get the baking done here first thing, but I’m sure she won’t mind swinging by to pick everything up. What time should I be ready by?”

  “Cheryl goes into work at the bank at 9:30,” Martha interjected, “so it will have to be before that.”

  I repeated her words.

  “I’ll pick you up at 7:45,” Logan decided. “We’ll go over what you can and can’t say to Cheryl on the drive.” He glanced back in Martha’s direction. “Thanks for your time. I am sorry about your . . . loss.”

  Martha beamed at him, enjoying the attention.

  He looked back to me. “And thanks for your time too. Without you, this could have easily been written off as an accident, and a murderer would have gone free.”

  I walked him to the door, then paused with my hand on the knob, remembering Luna’s remark about him easily believing me. “Hey Logan?”

  He was a warm presence at my side. “Yes?”

  I forced myself to meet his waiting gaze. “Thanks for trusting me.” I opened the door.

  “You’re welcome, and I hope you’ll eventually trust me enough to tell me the truth about what you and your sisters were doing out in those woods.” He walked outside, then called back. “I’ll see you in the morning!”

  I shut the door, then turned and leaned my back against it, worried Martha would comment on the exchange. But she was busy telling Spooky about having a real homicide detective on her case. According to her, her murder would surely be solved in no time.

  I appreciated her confidence in us, though I couldn’t quite share it.

  Chapter Five

  I woke up at the ungodly hour of 5 AM the next morning. I needed to get started on the baking if I was going to have everything ready for Evie to pick up by 6:30. She had agreed to open up for me in exchange for having Tuesday off, which was my usual day off. I was glad to give it up. The sooner we solved Martha’s murder, the better. I had not enjoyed her commenting on every single step of my baking, nor on my pumpkin print pajamas.

  I slid a fresh batch of strawberry scones onto a cooling rack, then put the lemon poppyseed muffins into the oven. I took a deep breath of air scented with sweets and baking flour. If I was going to keep up with demand, I might actually have to find a bigger kitchen.

  I grabbed my coffee mug from the counter, then looked down to Spooky who was looking up at the scones. “No jumping on the counter,” I warned. “I won’t have you getting cat hair on anything.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say his golden eyes held a hint of malice.

  I smirked. “I’ll bake you some more treats soon, I promise.”

  Martha turned her attention from the window looking out over my small backyard. “Adelaide, you’re young and single. You shouldn’t spend your free time baking cat treats. You should be making dinner for that handsome detective.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “You sound just like my sisters.”

  “Then they are wise women. Take it from me, you think you have all the time in the world, then suddenly your life is over.”

  I carried my coffee over to the dining room table and sat, looking up at her. “But you were married, and you owned a business, do you really feel like there were other things you should have done?”

  Martha’s incorporeal features softened, and for a moment I thought she wouldn’t speak, then she said, “My husband and I were never in love. We got married because I was pregnant, but soon after I lost the child. I don’t think either of us knew what to do after that, so we just stayed together. It wasn’t a bad marriage, we were close friends, but we were never in love. Once we divorced, I focused on the gallery. And that was it, that was my entire life. No great romance, no children, no nothing.”

  I opened my mouth, not sure what I would say, but she made the decision for me by turning away and floating toward the living room.

  Spooky hopped up on the table in front of me.

  I gave him a soft smile. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly happy with just you and my cafe.”

  I stroked his soft fur, then stood to go get dressed while the muffins finished baking. I didn’t see Martha anywhere in the living room, nor upstairs when I went to my bedroom. I wished there was something I could do for her loss, but she was dead, there was no going back. The only thing I could do for her now was bring her killer to justice.

  Once Evie had come and gone, I waited downstairs in a white cashmere sweater and taupe colored jeans. I had kept a small collection of baked goods to have around for myself and my sisters, and Logan if he wanted one. The strawberry scone before me had become nothing but a pile of crumbs as I waited for Logan. It was now 7:55, and I still hadn’t seen Martha again. Hopefully she wasn’t bailing on going to Cheryl’s.

  I had gone so deep into my thoughts that I jumped at a knock on the front door. I stood, then walked through the kitchen and living room to answer it.

  Logan waited outside in his customary suit. His dark hair was neatly combed. He looked very big city detective.

  “Sorry, I hit a bit of traffic on the way here,” he explained. “You ready?”

  His mention of traffic made me realize I had no idea where Logan lived. I didn’t know much about his life at all outside of his detective work. “Yeah I’m ready, let me just grab my coat. I kept a few baked goods this morning if you want anything.”

  He followed me inside, watching me as I grabbed my black wool coat, then went into the kitchen to select another pastry for the road. I really needed to start making some actual food, but baking for the cafe had me so busy I didn’t feel like I had time for it.

  I made sure Spooky had food and water, gave him a goodbye pet, then I was ready to go. Callie would be over soon to keep an eye on things.

  At my insistence, Logan selected a lemon poppyseed muffin, and we walked outside together, baked goods wrapped in napkins in hand.

  “Is Martha with us?” he asked as we walked down the driveway toward his car.

  I shook my head. “I haven’t seen her since earlier this morning. Hopefully she’ll meet us there.”

  Logan stopped walking to look at me. “Addy, the only reason you’re coming along is to translate for Martha. If she’s not going to be there, then you don’t need to get involved.”

  “I didn’t say she wasn’t going to be there, I just said I hadn’t seen her. I’m pretty sure she’ll meet us.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  I gave him a smug smile. “Well you’ll just have to take me along anyways, just in case she does.”

  He rolled his eyes, softening the gesture with a smile. “All right, let’s go. It will take around fifteen minutes to get there, and I want plenty of time before Cheryl leaves for work.”

  We got in the car and started driving, heading east for a while before veering north. Cheryl lived just on the edge of a forest, but not the
spooky forests near where my mom lived. It made me wonder why Martha and Cheryl hadn’t just planned their hike closer to Cheryl’s home. The narrow country road we traveled down was lined with plenty of trailhead markers.

  I spotted movement in the woods to the right, then grabbed Logan’s arm. “Deer!”

  He slowed the car as the creature hurtled out of the woods, darting right in front of us across the road.

  I watched it go with my jaw hanging open, in awe of its bright magical aura.

  Logan had brought the car to a full stop. “What the hell was that?” he breathed.

  I turned wide eyes toward him. “You mean that didn’t just look like a deer to you?” The creature had resembled a deer in every way, other than the magical aura, which Logan shouldn’t have been able to see.

  “It looked like a deer, but it glowed.”

  I stared at him. “You could see it?”

  “It was glowing, wasn’t it? My eyes weren’t playing tricks on me?”

  I put a hand on his arm. “Logan, I have kind of a weird question for you. Do you ever . . . feel anything when you’re around me and my family? I’ve noticed a few times that you seem a bit perplexed, like when you shook my mother’s hand.”

  He pulled the car off to the side of the road to let an oncoming truck pass, then looked to me. “When I shook your mother’s hand, it was like a strange tickling sensation. It happened when I shook Callie’s hand too. But I don’t feel it all the time, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt it directly from you.”

  I thought about it. Most mundanes couldn’t sense our magic, but it seemed maybe Logan could. “You felt that sensation because Callie and my mom we’re both doing magic on you. They like to read people when they meet them. Luna is more polite, so you wouldn’t have sensed it from her, and that type of magic is mostly beyond me.”

  “So you’re saying someone else wouldn’t have seen that glowing deer?” he asked.

  “They would have seen the deer, they just wouldn’t have seen the glow.”

  He glanced past me toward the woods on our right, almost as if expecting another deer. “So what was it exactly?”

  I shrugged. “Beats me, I’m still trying to figure out how you could see it. You might be able to sense a little bit of magic, but you can’t see ghosts like Martha. You shouldn’t be able to see other spirits either.”

  He raised his brow. “You’re saying it was a spirit?”

  “Something like that. Doesn’t do us much good to dwell on it though, we’ll probably never see it again. We should get to Cheryl’s before we run out of time.”

  He stared at me for a moment, and I wanted more than anything to know what he was thinking, but he didn’t speak on the subject further. With a shake of his head, he pulled the car back out onto the road and we continued on.

  I spent the rest of the drive deep in my thoughts, wondering if it had been a coincidence that such a deer would jump out right in front of us. We had thought the dark magic was rooted somewhere near my mom’s, but maybe it was further north. Powerful magic tended to attract lesser spirits. Where there was one spooky thing, like that deer, there tended to always be something much, much worse.

  Chapter Six

  Cheryl’s home was a massive log cabin situated in the middle of an expansive green grass yard with tall pine trees as a backdrop. We parked on her gravel driveway and both just sat and stared for a minute. The home and its surroundings were nothing short of idyllic.

  I shut my hanging jaw. “How does someone who works at a bank afford all of this?”

  I whipped around as Martha appeared in the back seat of the car. She gazed past us at the cabin. “Her parents left her this house. I’ve always loved coming to visit.”

  Logan watched me staring into the back seat. “I take it Martha has arrived?”

  I nodded. “She says Cheryl’s parents left her the house.” I turned back around and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Let’s go see inside. Maybe she’ll give us a tour.”

  “Oh she most certainly will,” Martha said as I stepped out of the car. Suddenly she was floating beside me. “This cabin is her crowning glory, even though she didn’t have to do anything but be born to get it.”

  I frowned and started walking. Martha had claimed Cheryl was the bitter jealous one, but she was making it seem like it was the other way around.

  Logan walked around the car and joined me as I left the gravel drive and stepped onto a paved walkway leading up to the house.

  “Wait,” Martha said suddenly.

  I gestured for Logan to stop, then turned to find Martha wringing her hands.

  She stared up at the cabin. “Has she been informed yet that I’m dead?”

  I repeated her words to Logan.

  He shook his head. “I think it’s odd that she didn’t report you missing. I wanted to see her reaction, so delivery of the news was delayed.”

  Martha seemed to think it over. “Well, I suppose that’s for the best. I should probably see her reaction too.”

  Logan and I turned back toward the house at the sound of the door opening. The expensive solid oak swung inward, revealing a tall, plump woman around Martha’s age, with hair dyed jet black. Her lined skin was tanned deep brown, an unusual sight in the Pacific Northwest.

  She looked from Logan, to me, then back again. “I thought I heard voices. Can I help you? If you’re looking for the nature preserve you turned one road too soon.”

  Logan flashed his badge as we reached the doorway. “Cheryl Isaac? We have a few questions for you.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Has something happened?”

  “May we come in?” Logan countered.

  It was an effort not to watch him. I thought I had seen him in cop-mode before, but I’d been wrong. He was totally different when he was questioning someone he thought might actually be a murderer.

  Cheryl seemed momentarily stunned, then quickly recovered and stepped back, gesturing for us to come inside.

  The home’s interior was just as grand as I had imagined. I looked up as I stepped across the threshold, admiring the heavy wooden beams of the ceiling. I could see the living room through the entryway, all done in rich solid tones accented with plaid. There had to be stairs leading up to the second story somewhere, but I couldn’t see them.

  Cheryl shut the door behind us, then watched us as if unsure what to do, and Logan wasn’t helping matters.

  He peered around, not saying a word. If he was trying to make Cheryl uncomfortable, it was working.

  Her cheeks went red. “Would you like some coffee?”

  Martha floated through the closed door. “Oh Cheryl, pull yourself together.”

  I glanced at Logan, then back to Cheryl. “Coffee would be wonderful, thanks.” I hoped we were playing good cop bad cop here, otherwise I wasn’t quite sure of Logan’s plan.

  Cheryl led the way through the sitting room and then to the kitchen. I watched her back, strong for her age, yet seeming somehow fragile. Could she really have followed Martha on her hike, snuck up, and pushed her? I just couldn’t see this woman as a murderer.

  The carpet was so plush and comfortable beneath my boots I almost regretted leaving it for the tiles of the kitchen, though there was plenty to admire beyond Cheryl’s back.

  She stepped aside to give me the full view of gleaming appliances and rose-colored marble countertops. I didn’t see the fridge, but imagined it was hidden behind one of the tall, pristine white cabinets.

  Logan let out a low whistle behind me as Cheryl went to fiddle with a coffee pot that probably cost more than my beat-up old car.

  He leaned in near my shoulder. “Maybe you should get one of those for the Toasty Bean,” he whispered.

  I scowled. “My machines are just fine, thank you.”

  The coffee pot started gurgling, and Cheryl turned to us, wringing her hands. “It should only take a few minutes, now would you care to tell me what this is about?”

  Logan pulled out a chair from the dining table to ou
r right. “You might want to sit down, Ms. Isaac. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  She stared at him for a moment, then quietly shuffled over to the chair and sat.

  Logan walked around the table and sat across from her, steepling his fingers atop the smooth oak surface.

  “I can’t wait to see her reaction,” Martha whispered behind me.

  I jumped, having forgotten she was around.

  Logan gave me a warning look, then nodded toward the coffee pot. It seemed I was on the clock.

  I headed around the massive marble island toward the coffee pot as Martha went to hover over Logan’s shoulder while he told Cheryl the bad news.

  I froze in my search for mugs at the sound of sobs, glancing over my shoulder to see Cheryl with her face buried in her hands. Martha seemed shocked that her friend would care so much about her death.

  Shaking my head, I opened the next cabinet and found the mugs, then withdrew three of them. I left them on the counter, then went in search of the fridge, finding it on my first try behind one of the larger matching panels.

  By the time I had set three mugs, the full coffee carafe, and a glass container of cream on the table, Cheryl had moved onto lamenting letting Martha go on the hike by herself.

  “It was just a silly headache,” she sobbed. “I could have pulled myself together and gone with her. Then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. I thought she got mad at me for canceling and went home. That was something Martha would have done. Maybe if I had reported her missing—”

  I pulled out the chair next to her and sat, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. She was gone—” I hesitated, unsure of how much information I was allowed to share. “Quickly,” I finished.

  Cheryl started sobbing louder.

  Martha’s face was twisted with emotion, and I was betting she wished she could be the one to comfort her friend.