Revenge of the Witch Page 12

  “Yours. Always yours.” I looked at Dazielle. “I will handle Puddles if you agree to all of that.”

  “The other angels won’t be happy if the sign goes,” Dazielle said.

  “Wiggles will do his best not to steal and pass gas, but that’s the deal,” I said. “Unless you want to escort Puddles home and question her?”

  Dazielle licked her lips. “No! Fine, deal made.”

  “Address the fairy cake order to me at Cloven Hoof,” Wiggles said. “I like pink frosting and sprinkles.”

  Dazielle tutted and turned away.

  “Hang on,” I said. “With Dewey dead, that means Josh is no longer a suspect. Do you still have him in a cell?”

  Dazielle turned back and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn’t have a leg to stand on. “I agree. Josh was there all night. Unless he has an accomplice, he can’t be involved.”

  “You have to let him go.”

  Dazielle raised her chin. “It could have been Rhett. His disappearance is now looking increasingly suspicious.”

  “Or worrying. We have two bodies on our hands. Will you now take Rhett’s disappearance more seriously, or are you going to wait for another body to turn up?”

  Dazielle looked around the trees. “I’ll admit it’s unusual. I’m still not convinced that Rhett’s in any harm.”

  “You said that about Dewey and look at him. You have to get your angels searching for Rhett. He could be victim number three if we don’t hurry.”

  “We need to assess this crime scene first.”

  “What’s there to assess? Dewey’s body is close to the location Serath was found. The magic used feels the same. It’s the same killer. Someone is taking these guys, cursing them, and burying them. We have to stop this.”

  “How is Rhett’s disappearance linked to this? It makes sense if someone had a grudge against Serath and Dewey and acted on that. They were friends and could have done something that annoyed an enemy, but they don’t run in the same circles as Rhett. Why would Rhett be the next victim?”

  As I rubbed my forehead, I grudgingly accepted Dazielle’s logic, but I wouldn’t be reassured until I saw Rhett and made sure he wasn’t lying in a soggy grave with a terrified look on his frozen face.

  Puddles groaned and flailed on the ground.

  Dazielle swiftly backed away. “If you want to be helpful, get Puddles out of here and talk to her. Where was she last night? Did she argue with Dewey recently? What did she really think of Serath? We need to know all these things before we can move forward.”

  I gritted my teeth. I didn’t want to babysit Puddles, but she could have useful information. I felt torn between staying and trying to find anything that helped in my search for Rhett or dealing with Puddles.

  “Where’s my Dewey?” Puddles said weakly from her prone position on the ground.

  I knelt next to Puddles, still looking at Dazielle. “I’ll talk to her. As soon as you know what went on here, you let me know.”

  “You do the same. If you get suspicious that all is not well with Puddles, don’t let her out of your sight.”

  I helped a bedraggled looking Puddles to her feet. The front of her pastel pink suit was covered in swamp slime, and her hair stuck to one side of her face with an unattractive mesh of green slime.

  I picked some slime off her cheek and wiped her face with the sleeve of my jacket. “You’ve had a shock. Let’s get you out of here.”

  “I can’t leave without Dewey.”

  “Dewey isn’t going anywhere. The angels will help him. Come back to Cloven Hoof. Let me give you something for the shock.”

  Puddles looked down at her clothes and gasped. “I can’t let people see me looking like this. I have a reputation in Willow Tree Falls. People won’t take me or my business seriously if they see me looking so... so grubby.”

  “If anyone sees you, they’ll understand. It’s not uncommon to faint when you get bad news.”

  “No, absolutely not. I cannot go to Cloven Hoof. I must get changed.”

  I had nothing in my apartment that would be suitable for Puddles. I liked black, denim, occasionally sparkles, but there were no pastels in my closet. “Let’s stop by your house and grab some clothes.”

  “I need a shower before I can do anything.” Puddles fussed over her muddy skirt. “This will need to be dry-cleaned. It’s my favorite suit.”

  It was amazing how quickly she’d forgotten her grief over her dead nephew when she saw her suit was ruined. “Okay, we’ll go to yours.”

  I hurried Puddles away from the crime scene and through the trees, Wiggles walking beside me. As Puddles walked, she muttered to herself and scrubbed ineffectively at the mud, only succeeding in smearing it all over her. I hoped Puddles could hold her sanity together long enough for me to question her.

  As we neared the edge of the trees, she slowed and backed into me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Check to make sure nobody can see us,” Puddles said.

  “We can’t avoid everybody.”

  She waved a hand at me, her bottom lip trembling. “I can’t let anybody spot me in this state. It’s too humiliating.”

  I peeked out of the trees. “The coast is clear.”

  She bustled past me, her gaze shooting from side to side as if she expected a crowd to leap out and start taking pictures.

  “Quick! Hide!” Puddles squeaked in terror and threw herself behind a hedge as two people approached and walked past.

  Wiggles jumped after Puddles. All I could see was his tail wagging and heard the sound of Puddles’ startled gasps. I was not sure I wanted to know what was going on behind that bush.

  I nodded a greeting to the people and tried to act like it was completely normal for me to be standing by a bush on my own. I waited for them to get out of sight. “Come on. They’ve gone.”

  Puddles crept out, her hair tangled with brambles. “Your dog is a menace.” She wiped a hand across her cheek.

  Wiggles trotted out. “I was being friendly.”

  “You can’t keep dodging people, or it will take hours to get to your place.”

  “I’ll dodge if I like. This is my reputation at stake.”

  “And my sanity,” I muttered.

  After two more near misses and two more hedge dives from Puddles, my patience snapped. “This is ridiculous. Grab my arm. I’ll use a cloaking spell to get us back to your place.”

  Puddles’ mouth opened. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Trust me. I’m not doing it for you.” I extended my arm to her.

  “I always knew you were a good girl. I never listened to the rumors.” Puddles grabbed my elbow as I flung magic over us, concealing us from anybody who walked past.

  “What rumors?”

  “Oh, you know how people make things up. If ever anyone said anything bad about you, I defended you.”

  I highly doubted that. Most of the rumors probably came from Puddles, but that was a discussion for another day.

  As we entered Puddles’ tiny cottage, the smell of lavender hit me. It was like entering a pastel pink, unicorn wonderland. Everything Puddles owned came in a pastel shade. From pale lemon to unicorn blue. She had it all. She also had an inordinate love of doilies. Tiny scraps of lace were dotted everywhere.

  “Wait in the living room while I change out of these things.” Puddles dashed up the stairs, and I took a few moments wandering around the living room with Wiggles, inspecting the china figurines and unicorn paraphernalia.

  I turned to find Wiggles with a piece of lace sticking out of his mouth.

  I grabbed it and pulled it out. “Stop that. I know you have a weird fetish about lace but leave the doilies alone.”

  Wiggles grunted as he looked around the room for something else to chew on. “Puddles has too much lace. It’s not the same as chewing a pair of panties, but it’s close. She won’t miss a few bits. Stuff some in your pocket for later.”

  “No
chance. Sit and be a good boy.”

  He grumbled to himself as he continued to look around the room.

  Puddles returned twenty minutes later, wearing a baby-pink velour lounge suit, her hair bundled in a towel, and a fresh application of lipstick, also in pink.

  “Let’s talk about what happened,” I said.

  Her eyes widened, and she nodded as she settled on the edge of her floral couch. “What happened to my Dewey?”

  “It looks like the same thing that happened to Serath.”

  She shook her head. “Who would want to curse my sweet boy?”

  “That’s what we need to find out and fast. This is the second time it’s happened, so the killer could strike again.”

  Puddles clasped her hands together. “But why Dewey?”

  “Puddles, you have to admit Dewey was no angel. He got thrown out of my bar and fought with Serath just before he died. That was in a single night.”

  “Dewey had nothing to do with Serath’s death.”

  “We know that now.”

  Puddles slumped in her seat. “I always thought Willow Tree Falls was a safe place.”

  “It’s not that safe. It’s full of magic using creatures. Magic is unstable. Power corrupts. Accidents will happen.”

  Puddles’ expression was mournful. “This wasn’t an accident.”

  “You’re right, and we’re back to square one in figuring out who’s involved. Can you think of anyone who has a grudge against Serath and Dewey? Has anyone threatened them recently or come to the house looking for them? What about Bart? Did he fall out with them?”

  “Nobody would want to hurt them. They’re good boys. And Bart is a sweet boy. They were all friends.”

  “You said Serath had black magic items in his bag,” I said. “Did you not like the idea of Dewey associating with someone who dabbled in the dark arts?”

  “Who would like that idea?” Puddles lurched forward in her seat. “Do you think I killed Serath because of that?”

  I didn’t, not really, but I had to ask. “It could have been an accident. Maybe you got rid of Serath and Dewey found out. Would your darling nephew keep quiet if you’d committed murder?”

  Puddles stared at me with her mouth open. She snapped her jaw shut and nodded. “I’ll admit I was not keen on Serath, but I would not kill him. He was leading my nephew astray and look where it got him. He’s dead.”

  “Have you still got Serath’s bag?”

  “Of course. I’ve yet to return it to his family.”

  “Can I take a look at what he brought with him?”

  “It’s in the hall closet.” Puddles bustled out and returned with a navy holdall, which she gave to me.

  I opened the bag and sifted past the boxer shorts and socks. I lifted out a small book of spells and flicked through it. “These spells are aimed at tourists. Maybe Serath didn’t know what he was doing when it came to dark magic.”

  “It’s a slippery path,” Puddles said. “You start dabbling in the dark stuff, and things get out of control.”

  “And you know that how?”

  She shot me a glare. “I suspect you know the answer to that. I’m sure Dottie hasn’t kept quiet about my past. In my defense, I was a young girl and experimenting. Everyone goes through that phase. I have nothing to be ashamed about. And I promise you this, I do not touch dark magic now.”

  I sorted through the rest of Serath’s things and found a small envelope tucked in the bottom of the bag. I pulled it out and inspected the contents.

  “What have you got there?” Puddles asked.

  “Old newspaper clippings.” I lifted one up. “Do you remember that girl who went missing five years ago, Sandy Bishop?”

  “I know a little about her. She was a quiet girl, pretty in her own way. She lived on the edge of the forest with her mother.”

  “She vanished one day. Nobody found out what happened to her.” I stared at the crumpled clipping that detailed her disappearance.

  “Some speculated she’d met a young man, and they eloped.”

  “Her mom left the village not long after. She said she couldn’t stay because the memories were too painful. It was weird. There was no trace of anything out of the ordinary, and her things weren’t taken.”

  Puddles nodded. “Why has Serath got clippings about Sandy in his bag?”

  “They are about the same age. He might have known Sandy from school. They could have been friends when they were younger.”

  “Maybe they were sweet on each other, and he hoped he’d find her when he came for his visits. He’s here every six months or so, even though he doesn’t have family in the village anymore. How romantic.”

  It might be romantic, but it was also unlikely, given the way Serath behaved around women. “He doesn’t strike me as the sensitive type.” I tucked the clippings back into the envelope and put it in the bag. This search had gotten me nowhere.

  “Going back to Bart, are you sure they were still friends?”

  “I’m certain. He’s an angel. He’s out getting my shopping. If you’re looking for someone who is always getting in trouble, what about your boyfriend, Rhett?” Puddles asked.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What about him?”

  “If it wasn’t one of his gang members who killed Serath and Dewey, maybe he’s directly involved.”

  I sighed. I did need to find Rhett and ask that question. “He’s missing, the same as Serath and Dewey.”

  “Is he now? I wonder what he’s up to.” Puddles sniffed. “It won’t be anything good.”

  “Be careful before you point the finger at other people. You have a lousy alibi for the night of Serath’s murder, and I bet you were home alone last night, as well.”

  “I was until Bart came back. I have a reputation to keep. It doesn’t do to be seen out on a work night.”

  “Your only alibi is yourself again?”

  Puddles flapped her hands in the air. “Stop trying to blame me and figure this out. My sister will never forgive me for Dewey’s death. She’s always considered herself better than me because she married and had a family.”

  “I’m sure your sister will be devastated about what has happened. This has nothing to do with her being better than you.” I tilted my head. Or did it? Was Puddles so jealous of her sister’s perfect life that she wanted to mess it up? She decided killing Dewey was the way to achieve that? But a double murder all because you haven’t got a husband and two kids? It seemed unlikely.

  “She’ll find a way to blame me for this, even though I’m innocent,” Puddles said.

  I stood and handed her Serath’s bag. “The angels will be in touch when they have more news about Dewey.”

  Puddles seemed to have forgotten she should be looking grief-stricken instead of annoyed. She swiftly dabbed at her eyes. “Of course, any news. I must be the first to hear.” She walked me to the door.

  I nodded goodbye as I left the cottage with Wiggles. I was in need of a long soak in the tub and a good night’s sleep after that pastel-themed adventure.

  This investigation felt like it wasn’t going anywhere fast.

  Chapter 14

  I wandered into Bite Me for a late breakfast the next morning with Tilly Machello and Wiggles.

  Tilly pointed at a table by the window. “I’ll be with you in two minutes.” She served someone before hurrying over with a plate of breakfast flapjacks and a huge pot of tea.

  She grinned as she settled in the seat opposite me, her blue eyes sparkling. “I heard you’ve had an adventure in the forest.”

  “Who’s been talking?”

  “Your Granny Dottie was here yesterday. I can’t believe what’s going on. Have you got any idea who’s throwing curses around?”

  I sampled a flapjack. It was still warm from the oven and sweetened with plump raisins. “The angels thought they had someone, but it’s not him. I am wondering about Puddles, but the more time I spend with her, the less likely she looks like a real suspect.”

  Till
y chuckled. “Puddles Lavern, serial curse killer. That’s something I can’t see happening.”

  “She still needs to stay on the suspect list. Her only alibi is being home alone when the curses were handed out. She could be putting on a good act.”

  “Who else have you got in the firing line?” Tilly poured the tea.

  I let out a sigh. “Well, with Rhett doing a disappearing act, I am wondering about the gang’s involvement.”

  Tilly arched an eyebrow. “He’s in hiding?”

  “He might be. We were supposed to have breakfast yesterday, and he didn’t show. Even his gang is worried. They’ve been looking for him, but I’ve heard nothing from them, so I have to assume he still hasn’t shown up.”

  “He’ll have serious making up to do when he does resurface. You don’t stand up Tempest Crypt and get away with it.”

  I nodded, my mouth full of flapjack. I was less angry now and more worried. This was out of character, and with Serath and Dewey dead, I needed to know Rhett was okay.

  “Is there anyone else who needs your special investigative attention?” Tilly asked.

  “The angels are interested in Izzie.”

  “You are joking! Why are they interested in Izzie?”

  “She dated Serath for about five minutes. They think it’s a perfect motive. They consider her a dangerous ex-girlfriend who sought revenge.”

  “Is Izzie the jealous type?” Tilly said.

  “It’s not her. I’m sure of it. She was working the late shift the night Serath died.”

  “Which leaves us with?”

  “The only remaining friend who is still alive,” I said. “I haven’t spoken much to Bart. He was with Serath and Dewey both nights. Although, he claims they separated, so he wasn’t around when they were cursed.”

  “Which seems awfully convenient.”

  “It does. What’s to say they didn’t fight? He needs talking to, but I haven’t seen him around. He’d better not skip town before I get to quiz him.”

  “Bart is your prime suspect?”

  “I’m not interested in Izzie, and I can’t find Rhett to talk to, so he’ll have to be.”

  “Is Bart a magic user?”

  “He must be. He got into Cloven Hoof, no problem. I don’t know if his magic is up to much, though.”