Witch Slapped (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 1) (18 page)

Officer Nelson closed his eyes, likely asking whoever was in charge up there for patience, before he popped them back open and pointed to the parlor. “I’ll ask one more time, Miss Cartwright. Please wait for me in the other room, or I’ll be forced to cuff you.”

“Cuff this!” I shouted up at him, but I inched my way out toward the parlor. Handcuffs weren’t a part of my plans today. They’d mess up my date with Forrest.

I left the room with a squinty-eyed glare at Officer Nelson and Hendrick Von Jerk, just to let them know I meant business.

Huffing, I stopped at the reception desk, where Sally gave me stink-eye.

I openly sighed. “Okay, I’m sorry. I tricked you and I suck for doing it, but I really needed to talk to him. I just want to know who’d hurt Madam Zoltar. I just want to help.”

I don’t know why I was telling Sally my tale of woe—if it was a way of explaining my desperation or if I just needed a “poor baby.”

“You don’t have a paralyzed dog named Belfry, do you?”

My eyes fell to the floor in guilt. Sometimes, when I’m in the zone, I do whatever it takes to get the answer I want to hear, and collateral damage is inevitable. “No. No dog. But I’ve been accused of murder. So there’s
that
hanging over my head.”

Sally tapped my arm, her gaze softer. “Oh yeah. You’re the lady everyone’s calling a murderer.”

Yeah. That’s me
. “I did
not
hurt Madam Zoltar.”

Sally nodded her sandy-blonde head. “Oh, I totally believe you. I’d believe that creep did it before I’d ever consider you a suspect. He’s so rude. Treats us all like we’re his indentured slaves, barking orders, demanding we do all sorts of stuff.”

Grrr. If I could only use my power one more time, I’d use it to whack that Hendrick so hard, his brain would spill out of his ears. But then a thought occurred to me.

“Do you know where he was when Madam Zoltar was killed? Was he here at the inn?”

She paused in thought then her eyes shone with disappointment. “You know, as much as I’d like him to spend a few centuries in jail, he really was here that morning. Up early, too. I remember because he was aggravated I’d spent so much time talking to the man who was checking out. But gosh, he smelled so good and he was so cute. He was chatting with me and looking for a place to grab some fish and chips, and I was recommending that amazing food truck next to Tito’s, The Deep Sea Diver, all while Mr. Von Adams rolled his eyes and huffed at me.”

Fish and chips…

“
Fish and chips
!” Win barked.

I tried to contain my excitement. This had to mean something. No way could fish and chips come up this often without it meaning something.

“Fish and chips? Yum! One of my favorites. There’s a truck that serves them next to Tito’s? How did I miss that?”

“He kind of comes and goes to avoid permit-violation fines. Guy who owns the truck’s name is Jacob. He doesn’t want to pay for the permit to have the truck parked. Sort of a rage-against-the-man kinda hipster dude. But if you know Marvin Wexler, from the town inspections office, you know what a by-the-book kind of guy
he
is. He’s a total stickler for the rules. It’s sorta become a joke to see how long Jacob can avoid Marvin before he catches him.”

“Do you remember who the guy was that wanted the fish and chips? What his name was?”

Now she rolled her eyes at me. “Aw, c’mon. I think you know I can’t tell you that. I’m already in enough trouble, don’t you think?” She hitched her jaw toward the kitchen, where the police were still talking with Hendrick The Horror. “I can’t afford to get fired, Miss Cartwright. I need this job, and Coraline’s a great boss, but she’s going to get some serious flack for what I did for you because you can bet your cute purse, that monster in there will make her miserable.”

I gave her my best sad-panda face. “I get it. I just hope he wasn’t the one to hurt Madam Zoltar, because that would be just awful. And the way things are going for me, I need all the suspects I can get. I figure it couldn’t hurt to ask him a few questions, you know? Anyway, speaking of, you must be Liza’s friend, right? She mentioned you worked here…”

Guilt shone brightly in Sally’s eyes. “It’s so awful what happened to her nana. She really was tight with her. Super close. Mrs. Martoni was a great lady. I feel so horrible”

“So do I. I had tea with Liza earlier and she was a total wreck.” I sighed forlornly. “Anyway, it’s fine. I understand your position. I just hope that guy had nothing to do with this. Whoever he is…”

Sally popped her lips then pulled me in, cupping her hand over her mouth. “Okay, listen. I can’t tell you his name, but I think he said something about heading somewhere warmer with less rain. Oh, and he dressed really nice. The kind of guy who wears a fancy trench coat.”

My spine tingled. A Burberry trench coat, perhaps?

I gripped her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you, Sally. You’ve been a huge help. I promise to make getting into hot water because of me worth your while.”

For now, my head was swollen with whirring thoughts and theories. I needed to get back to the car and talk them out with Win.

Whirling around, I went for the door, but Officer Nelson, wet blanket award winner of the year, stopped me. “Miss Cartwright? In a rush to get somewhere?”

I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming. Turning, I pointed to my wrist as though I wore a watch. “Killing spree. I don’t want to be late. Gotta run and set up the sacrificial table. It’s tedious work to get everything right. Can we exchange pleasantries later?”

Officer Nelson actually smirked as though he were fighting a smile. Go figure. “I’ll need to ask you about your side of the events with Mr. Von Adams.”

“I’ve got an appointment with you guys at three today anyway. So it’s a date. Gotta run, the chicken sacrifice waits for no one!”

I ran out the door to the tune of a low chuckle that definitely didn’t belong to Win.

Jumping in my car, I threw the key in the ignition and headed toward the area of Jacob’s fish-and-chips truck.

“And they say spies are manipulative,” Win teased.

“Don’t pile on. I’ll already hate myself in the morning. Belfry? Do me a favor, take this down: Send Sally a year’s worth of cat food and kitty litter.”

“Got it, Boss.”

Win chuckled. “So let’s discuss. I assume we’re on our way to the fish-and-chips food truck?”

“You bet we are. Maybe he’ll remember the guy. I mean, maybe MZ was trying to tell us that this guy was staying with that Von Asshat at the inn? I still don’t know what that has to do with her son Dan and what he supposedly knows, but I have this tingle in my gut we’re on to something, Win. I don’t know what, but it leads somewhere.”

“I’d agree.”

The rush of adrenaline I always felt when I was close to figuring something out coursed through my veins. “Oh! Something else, didn’t Sally say he smelled really good? Belfry, remember you said whoever went into Madam Z’s store while we were there smelled good, too? But we skedaddled because we thought it might be the police?”

Belfry hopped out of my purse and onto the seat. “Oh yeah. Whoever it was
did
smell good. Really good.”

“And holy total recall!” I yelped, hitting my hand on the steering wheel. “I just remembered something else! When we went into Madam Z’s the first time, I remember smelling perfume or cologne or something. It’s what made me think she was somewhere in the store, but I didn’t smell it anymore when we were near her body. I know there’s a connection here. I just know it!”

Pulling up to the sidewalk where the food truck vendors were located, I put the car in park and jumped out in search of The Deep Sea Diver.

Tito was outside, under one of the tents set up to keep you dry as you ate, wiping down a table. I forgot all about our tiff and waved to him. “Tito!”

His glossy ebony head popped up, and then he realized it was me and his chubby, innocent face turned into a scowl. “Oh, no, no, no
, senorita
—ju no come to my truck! Ju bad, bad lady!”

Tito began to back away, but I held up my hand. “Tito, c’mon. Do I look like someone who’d murder a nice little old lady?”

His finger shot upward. “Ju might no look like bad lady, but bad ladies come in goat’s clothes!”

I stopped advancing on him and frowned, letting my arms fall to my sides in defeat. “That’s sheep’s clothing, and okay. I understand. But can I ask you one small thing?”

He looked affronted, his eyes wide as he slapped the inside of his forearm. “Ju wanna know what kinda blood type I got?”

Okay, this murder accusation stuff was really getting out of hand. “Where’s the guy with the fish and chips? Is he here today?”

Tito shooed me away, wiping his hands on his dirty white apron. “No! He bad like ju. Well, no as bad. He don’ kill me. But he no like rules! Now go!”

I’m usually not so easily defeated, but if I haven’t mentioned, I normally don’t deal with the living when I help a spirit other than to pass on a message. I’d never been this personally involved or had this much hate thrown my way my entire time as a witch.

And it was beginning to get to me. Tears began to well in my eyes as I skirted the food truck patrons and headed back to my car, defeat a sharp pang in my gut.

I slid inside and turned the key in the ignition, gnawing the inside of my cheek to keep from crying as I pulled away, leaving Tito and his heated scowl in my rearview mirror.

“Aw, Stevie. Don’t cry. I can’t deal with you crying more than once a year at Christmas, when you make me watch all those stupid Hallmark movies. C’mon, Buckaroo, chin up,” Belfry said softly, crawling from my purse to shimmy along my arm and settle on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Stevie. But I promise you, Tito will rue the day.”

Sniffling, I shook my head. “I know I’m letting it get to me. But it’s
Tito
…” My voice cracked. “He’s the nicest man on the planet and he thinks I’m a hardcore killer. I don’t know why that hurts so much, but it sure stings. I think I need to regroup. Just give me a few minutes at home to catch my breath before we have to meet Mr. Lipton at the police station, and I promise I’ll be rarin’ to go.”

Win cleared his throat, his warm aura somehow warmer. “Take all the time you need, Stevie. You’ve had a rough morning.”

As I drove down the road that took me to the house, I smiled my gratitude. Flying past the Sound, which normally brought me such joy, I all but ignored it, so caught up in what to do next.

Enzo’s truck was at the bottom of the mudslide we called a driveway, the bed filled with two-by-fours. Well, that was something anyway. Maybe I’d actually have a wall to hang a picture on.

I slipped my heels off and pulled on my work boots, preparing to make the arduous climb to the front porch. I didn’t say anything more—at this point, I was just too deflated. Though, the sight of the porch, and the holes now covered in protective plywood, did give me hope.

I pushed the door open to the tune of Tony Bennett and the sound of a drill. “It’s just me, Enzo!” I yelled before kicking off my boots and heading up the staircase.

The drill stopped for a brief moment then returned to its droning. Trudging down the long hallway to my bedroom, the plan was to maybe grab a quick bath, relax before I had to attend my flaying at the police station.

When I rounded the corner, I stopped dead and gasped in surprise.

“Do you like it?” Win grumbled in my ear.

It was a bed. A bed every girl who likes a cozy nook to bury herself in dreams of. I almost couldn’t move my feet into the room to approach it.

“Oh, Win,” I whispered tearfully. “It’s beautiful.”

It was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Built directly into the wall where the windows faced the Sound, was the most amazing queen-size bed I’d ever seen. Fashioned like a huge window seat, the entrance was hexagon-shaped, framed with crisp white molding on top and edged on either side of the entry to the mattress with scrolled brackets. Beneath the bed, there were three drawers with matching scrollwork along the bottom.

As I approached and looked closer, I inhaled. Inside this heavenly creation where I’d rest my head was a plump mattress with a blue and white chintz comforter and tons of fluffy pillows to match. All around the interior of this peaceful nook, including around the white, thickly framed trio of windows, wainscoting had been installed and painted a pale lemon.

But the best part of this magnificent structure was the pure white bookcase directly above the headboard, built into the nook’s wall and harboring one lone hydrangea and plenty of room for some of my favorite gardening books.

It was like coming home to a warm hug, and I didn’t know how to say thank you.

“Enzo’s got a stained-glass pane coming to place in the center window. But I hoped this would do for now.”

“Do?” I squeaked, fighting more tears. “It’s amazing. It’s the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Hey!” Belfry chimed from my shoulder. “Did you forget the Best Birthday Gift Ever of 2003?”

I giggled a watery sound. “How could I forget my Madonna tickets and neon-green scrunchie?”

“I’m rather sure I’ll never be able to top that, Belfry,” Win assured.

“Darn right you won’t, Winterbutt. I’m going to catch a power nap, folks. Wake me when we’re ready to take this guy down.” Belfry slid from my shoulder and headed to the broad-leaf plants in the bathroom.

I sat at the edge of the bed and wiggled my toes. “Win, this was too kind of you. I don’t know how you knew something like this would appeal to me, but it rocks.”

“Bah. There was something about a vision board in your old apartment, an uncomfortable futon, the colors pale yellow and blue, and your love of the water. It was nothing, really.”

He’d been talking to my spirits again. I didn’t understand this man. One minute he was as brisk as a wintry wind, the next, warm as a tropical island. Complex and infuriating, delightful and considerate.

“Who made this in such a short time?”

“Enzo, of course. And his sons, Tomasso and Patritzio. They own a mill and woodworking shop here in Seattle. Beautiful place. Madam Zoltar helped me find a picture from the description I had and she placed the order for me.”