Bewitching Boots (21 page)

The point was that Rita might have been jealous, but I didn’t believe she would’ve killed Isabelle to get Sir Dwayne.

It had to be that Isabelle fell off the terrace. Rita walked into the garden to smoke and saw her there. Isabelle looked up and saw Rita’s face. Rita moved closer to check on her. Isabelle died. The last thing she saw was imprinted in her memory.

It made sense to me. Maybe there was even proof. Who’d called 911 to report Isabelle’s fall? It was probably Rita.

But why show me that moment if it wasn’t important?

Maybe it was important to Isabelle. It was her last memory of her life. Maybe that was all that mattered.

If we could’ve actually
talked
to Isabelle, asked her questions, we might know the truth now. Why was everything associated with the spirit world so difficult to understand? I didn’t like the idea that Isabelle might have as much to say as Wanda, and follow me around the Village, but a simple statement of the killer’s identity would’ve been nice.

I thought that the assault on Rita had something to do with Isabelle’s death—but what? Sir Dwayne had an alibi for when Rita was attacked. I didn’t know if his time was accounted for during Isabelle’s death. The two events felt intertwined in my thoughts.

Chase’s cell phone rang at six-thirty the next morning. I’d spent the entire night trying to figure it out and hadn’t noticed that gray morning light had crept through the windows.

“Who the hell—?” Chase tried to find his cell phone on the side table and knocked it on the floor.

“It must not be security people.” I yawned. “It’s not the radio.”

It was Detective Almond. He was on his way to the Village to talk to Chase about something new that he’d learned.

“I hope the monks are awake and have coffee ready,” Chase said after he’d finished talking. “I don’t want to have him in here, and I need a large coffee.”

“Why not have him here?” I asked, getting out of bed. “Only we can see the changes the sorcerer did to the apartment. We’ve had other people from the Village here.”

“I don’t know. It makes me nervous. I don’t want to worry that the apartment is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside.” He scrubbed his eyes with his hands. “People in the Village wouldn’t care even if they could see it. Detective Almond
would
.”

I hadn’t realized that he felt that way. I thought about it while he showered and shaved. He was dressed and ready to go in a few minutes. I watched as he laced his knee-high boots.

“Are you embarrassed about the apartment?” I asked him.

“No.” He pushed his braid back on his shoulder as he bent over. “But I also don’t dress like this when I go to the police station. I don’t like my two worlds colliding. That’s all.”

I went around and kissed him. “Can I come too?”

“For the coffee or the news?”

“Both. And to spend time with you before the day starts.”

“If you can be ready in five minutes.”

“Since the Village isn’t open yet, I can be ready in two minutes.” I threw my pajamas on the floor and put on the denim shorts and tank top I’d been wearing last night. “All I have to do is run a comb though my hair.”

“Why are you so awake this morning?” He got to his feet. “Usually, it’s all I can do to get you out of bed by eight.”

“Don’t ask,” I yelled from the bathroom as I combed my hair and brushed my teeth.

“You were awake all night thinking about the thing with Isabelle, weren’t you?”

“Not just Isabelle—Rita too. I think Madame Lucinda is right about what Isabelle saw.” I slipped my feet into sandals.

“What part of that was right?” he asked as we started out of the apartment. “I don’t remember anything she said making any sense.”

Detective Almond was on the stairs with his hand up to knock on the door. “I see you’re ready to go. You’re the best, Manhattan. I hope the coffee is good and hot.”

He walked past us and into the apartment.

* * *

How did it work?
I wondered as I measured coffee into the coffeemaker. I knew it was some kind of spell that the sorcerer had put on the apartment. But the other space was so small—what was Detective Almond seeing as I worked in the much larger kitchen area?

He and Chase were sitting in the living room on two chairs. We didn’t even have two chairs in the old apartment. This was the first time I’d stopped to think about it. It was probably because Chase had said something.

“We have some donuts.” I smiled at them as the coffee perked. “Would you like a few?”

Detective Almond glared at me. “That whole thing about cops eating donuts isn’t true. Besides,” he patted his belly, “I’m trying to cut back. My physical is coming up. No cream or sugar for me either, Jessie. Thanks.”

I brought my cup, and Detective Almond’s, over to the chairs. Chase got his own and filled it with as much milk and sugar as the cup would hold. I sat on the sofa, wondering where it looked like I was sitting through our guest’s eyes.

“I’m trying to make a case against Dwayne Barbee, but so far, I keep running into dead ends.” Detective Almond slurped his coffee. “Several people saw him come back to the castle before Ms. Martinez was assaulted. They had some kind of tiff after their big make-out session at the hatchet-throwing game that Jessie saw. They both agree on that account. He’s off the hook for that.”

I was happy about that for Rita’s sake, even if she and Sir Dwayne broke up.

“I’ve looked into the possibility that he could’ve murdered Ms. Franklin,” Detective Almond continued. “He’s too big to wear that green shirt we found in the secret passage, but the medical examiner is positive that the material from the shirt matches the material we found in her hand.”

“Maybe he didn’t do it,” I said.

“Whose side are you on anyway?” Detective Almond glared at me. “I discovered something in the course of the investigation that I’m not happy about.”

“What’s that?” Chase asked with a frown at me.

“We thought Ms. Martinez had phoned for the ambulance after she saw the princess fall. As far as we can tell, she was the first one to see Ms. Franklin on the ground. We’ve all gone according to that assumption. Then Mr. Barbee tells me during questioning that
he
called 911 after he went down to the garden. I checked with emergency services, and he was telling the truth. What’s up with that?”

Chase glanced at me before he spoke. “Are you sure?”

“You can listen to the tape if you like.” Detective Almond slurped more coffee. “It leaves me with a problem. Was Ms. Martinez the first one in the garden or not? If she was, why didn’t she call 911? If not, why?”

“Where was Sir Dwayne?” I asked.

“You mean Mr. Barbee?” Detective Almond didn’t look happy to realize that I was still there. Maybe I was supposed to get the coffee and disappear. But if this were the old apartment, where would I disappear to?

“Where did he say he was?” Chase facilitated.

“He said he was in her room—one of her chambermaids or whatever you call them—agrees that he was nowhere near the princess when it happened.” Detective Almond looked around the kitchen. “You got any plain bagels? I’m really hungry.”

“Sorry. We’re fresh out,” I said. “Are you saying that you think Rita was involved with Isabelle’s death now?”

Chapter Twenty

Detective Almond shrugged. “I’m saying this case makes less sense to me now than it did when I started. But that’s the way it goes when I have to investigate something here. Is there any place that makes bacon for breakfast around here?”

“We don’t do much breakfast in the Village,” Chase said. “You know that. What do you want me to do?”

“Ms. Martinez is coming home from the hospital today. Her injuries looked bad but weren’t life threatening,” Detective Almond told him. “It’s possible she knocked herself around to take away any suspicion that she could’ve been responsible for Ms. Franklin’s death. I’d like you to keep an eye on her. I know Rita. She’s a nice person—but she’s also strong as a horse. She could’ve thrown Ms. Franklin from the terrace and went down to make sure the job was done.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say,” I told him.

“I’ve seen people do worse, Jessie.” He scanned the apartment as he got to his feet. “You two are gonna have to do better than this place if you plan to have kids someday. You need something bigger, Manhattan. I’ll talk to you later—after I find some bacon.”

Chase and I watched him open the door to the apartment and leave.

“Well?” I asked him.

“I guess it looks like the old place to him.” He hugged me. “Let’s go find some breakfast and some decent coffee.”

“
Decent
? I thought it was pretty good.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

We ended up being joined by a large group of Village security guards as we sat at the Monastery Bakery. Several of them were new and had questions about their jobs. The biggest question was when they were supposed to call Chase.

“I expect you to be able to figure out what to do in most situations,” Chase told them. “I’ve decided to choose a supervisor for each shift that the rest of you can call for small things that come up. I know how confusing some of the situations can be. When in doubt, call your supervisor. The supervisors will decide when to call me.”

I stared at him with awe and admiration. He’d finally decided to delegate some of his work. I knew it was hard for him. I didn’t say anything then, but once we were alone, I threw my arms around him. “You did it! I’m so proud of you. How do you feel?”

“It’s not that big a deal.” He hugged me and then moved away. “You were right. I’ve been taking on too much. There are other things I should be focused on.”

“You’re going to put more time into your patent finding business?”

He frowned. “No. But I told my dad I’d take a look at some stuff for him. He needs an extra set of eyes.”

That sounded serious. Chase’s father had gone to prison for a short time for fraud. His family had enough money that it hadn’t really affected them. I wondered what
exactly
his father had asked him to do.

“Can I do something to help?” I was hoping he might tell me what was going on.

“No. I can handle it. I’ll be working online with Morgan too.”

Great.
Chase’s father and his brother, Morgan, both hated me and didn’t want Chase to live at the Village. His mother too, for that matter. I hoped whatever it was would be short term.

I tried not to let it hurt my feelings that he didn’t want to tell me everything. I probably wouldn’t know what he was talking about anyway. No doubt it was stock market information. I just hoped it was
legal
stock market stuff. I didn’t want Chase to go to jail.

He kissed me. “I’ll see you for lunch, Jessie.”

I was about to go check on Bill, even though it was early, when I saw Rita coming through the resident’s entrance by the Main Gate. She was alone, using a cane to help her walk, her arm in a white sling.

“Let me help you.” I took the bag she carried. “How are you?”

“As good as can be expected.” She smiled but I could see it was painful. “I had to leave my flowers at the hospital. The taxi driver wouldn’t take them.”

“I’m sorry. You should have called and we would have picked you up.”

“I didn’t think about it, Jessie, but thanks for offering.”

We walked past the mermaid lagoon. It was empty now—too early for the mermaids. Most residents weren’t up yet.

“Detective Almond paid me a call as I was being discharged this morning,” Rita said. “I believe he thinks
I
killed Isabelle. Crazy idea, huh?”

“Crazy. He came to see Chase this morning too.”

“Why does he think I killed her?”

“Dwayne is off his hit-list now. I think he knows how you feel about him.”

“What do you think, Jessie?”

“I can’t imagine you hurting anyone.” I didn’t hesitate to give my opinion. I wished I could tell her about my vision of Isabelle. I wasn’t sure how she’d take it. “There’s the thing about you not calling 911, even though you were there right after Isabelle fell. That’s what detective Almond is looking at. What happened?”

Rita was uncomfortable. “How does he know? Never mind.” She sighed. “I’m sure everyone knows by now.”

“What happened?”

“I was standing there, getting ready for a cigarette, looking at the flowers. And she fell. Just dropped down from the terrace. The sound was—I can’t describe it. But I knew she was hurt bad, you know?”

I nodded.

“I walked closer when she didn’t move, and looked down into her face. I called her name. I think she was already dead.”

Not quite.
I remembered the last thing Isabelle saw.

“And then I walked away.” Rita bit her lip. “God help me. I turned around and went back into the castle. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was like I didn’t feel anything about her being dead. It wasn’t like I thought Dwayne and I could be together if she was dead. I just didn’t feel
anything
.”

“What happened then?”

“I walked into the kitchen. Someone rang for a snack, and it hit me what I’d done. I started to call for help, but someone had already called.”

“Dwayne.”

Rita wiped tears impatiently from her face. “It was stupid and wrong. I know that, Jessie. But I didn’t kill her. She was only a kid when she came to work at the castle. I never liked her, but I wouldn’t have hurt her.”

“Is that what you told the police?”

“Part of it.” She smiled. “You know—we keep our secrets here at the Village. The rest that I told you wouldn’t have made Detective Almond think any better of me. I’m not sure what to do now.”

“I guess just get better and see what happens.”

“It’s a funny thing,” she remarked as we reached the castle gate. “I really felt like the person who attacked me did it because of Isabelle.”

“In what way?”

“I don’t know.” She stopped walking and faced me. Her face was bruised, lips swollen. “I felt like the person was punishing me for what happened, because I left Isabelle there. To begin with, I thought it
was
Isabelle. It was definitely a woman.”