Be Careful What You Witch For (A Family Fortune Mystery) (16 page)

I raised an eyebrow at Tom. He lifted a shoulder and grimaced, clearly no closer to understanding the issue than I was.

Howard blew out air. “We . . . courted a long,
long
time ago. It didn’t work out. Then
much later
”—he paused to cast a meaningful glare at Millie—“I met Millie. I can’t be held responsible for going steady with someone before I even
met
her.” He hooked a thumb in Millie’s direction and crossed his own arms.

Tom shuffled his feet and looked uncomfortable. I covered my grin with a cough. The thought of eighty-year-old Howard going steady was about to cause a fit of giggles.

“Maybe we should leave to let you two work this out,” I said.

Tom and I backed out of the store and I flipped the sign to
CLOSED
before shutting the door behind us.

“Wow, those two really keep you busy don’t they?”

Tom nodded and smoothed his shirt even though it looked freshly pressed. “She kind of scares me,” he said.

“I couldn’t tell,” I lied.

“Have you heard anything more about Diana or Dylan?”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this. I don’t really know anything for sure, but I think Mac is going to let Diana go. He let her stay at the station last night, mostly because she refused to leave, but he doesn’t believe her confession.”

The tightness in my shoulders melted at this news. I knew Mac couldn’t have been fooled by her confession. It unfortunately made it look like Dylan’s own sister didn’t believe in his innocence, though. When I mentioned this to Tom he just nodded and sighed. I realized that Dylan’s arrest must have been hard on him as well. He and Dylan were always together when they were in school. He must have wanted to help him somehow. But once he was off the case, he had no more influence than the rest of us.

We’d walked almost back to the station and I stopped to let him continue on his own. If Mac was considering letting Diana go, I didn’t want to interfere and get into a stubborn contest with him.

I climbed into my car as my phone buzzed. A text from Seth read:
Heading home—I’ll walk the dogs.
I smiled and realized how glad I was to have him here in Crystal Haven.

I had just put the Jeep in gear when someone knocked on my window. I jumped and the phone flew out of my hand.

Mac was there and I rolled down the window.

“You probably shouldn’t text even while sitting at the curb,” he said with a grin.

“People don’t usually sneak up on me while I’m in my parked car,” I said.

His smile faded. “I need your help at the station.”

26

“So, what do you need?” I had to quicken my pace to keep up with him. “I have a lot of theories about what happened. I’m so glad you don’t suspect Dylan or Diana anymore. That was just crazy. . . .” Mac stopped and I had to backtrack.

“That’s not the kind of help I need,” he said.

“Oh. What then?” I tried to hide my disappointment with a bright smile, but could tell by the way Mac held my gaze that he’d seen it.

“It’s Diana. She won’t leave.”

“What do you mean? I thought you arrested her.” I pretended innocence, not wanting to get Tom in trouble.

Mac started walking again. He explained that he’d been trying to release Diana for several hours but she refused to go home. He admitted that it had been a mistake to arrest her in the first place.

“I never bought her confession, but I thought I could use it to threaten Dylan,” Mac said.

“You told him she had confessed?”

Mac nodded. “I thought he would admit he’d killed Rafe if he thought Diana was in trouble. It didn’t work. Either he’s really innocent, or he saw through the plan and figured I’d have to let her go eventually.”

“You still think he did it?”

“I think he’s the best suspect we have.” Mac stopped walking and faced me. “He thought Rafe had killed his parents, he had access to the murder weapon, and he knew how allergic Rafe was.” Mac ticked his points off on his fingers.

“Everyone knew Rafe was allergic, many people had access to the murderous bread, and he had more enemies than just Dylan,” I ticked back.

Mac took a deep breath and continued walking. “You’ve gotten yourself involved again, haven’t you? I asked you to stay out of it. As if I don’t have enough to worry about . . .” Mac pushed the door to the station open and waited for me to enter.

Lisa smiled at us until she got a good look at our stormy faces. She took a very intense interest in her computer as we walked toward Mac’s office in silence.

“Okay, tell me what you know,” Mac said after shutting his office door.

I was unprepared for this. In the past he had just warned me off and refused to listen to anything I had to say. I took a moment to gather my thoughts. Mac’s blue-gray gaze didn’t help me to focus.

“First of all, I’ve known Dylan practically my whole life and he’s not a killer.”

Mac snorted and took a breath to respond, but I held up my hand.

“Also, there were several other people in Rafe’s life that had an issue with him. Just because Dylan thought Rafe had killed his parents doesn’t mean he was the only one with a motive.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well, Lucan Reed didn’t like the way Rafe ran the coven. They fought about it all the time.”

“You think Lucan would have killed Rafe because he didn’t like the spells he cast under a full moon?” Mac didn’t hide his sarcasm.

“And Morgan Lavelle was recently thrown out of the coven for similar reasons. She’d been dating—or something—Rafe and they had a big fight.”

“Okay, that sounds more interesting. What else do you know about Morgan?”

I shook my head, wishing I’d known I would be giving a presentation. I would have done more prep work.

“She’s creepy. And she sells knives and nasty spell kits.”

Mac smiled. I did love to see his smile, but this one wasn’t as friendly as most. This was one of a cat that had cornered a mouse. I didn’t enjoy feeling like a cornered mouse.

I crossed my arms. “If you’d given me warning, I would have come up with some better answers.” I took a deep breath. I had planned to have more proof when I told him this part, but here was my opportunity. “She’s a liar. She was at the ceremony that night, and I can prove it.”

“Go on.” Mac sat back and watched me.

I pulled the charm out of my pocket. I’d wrapped it in plastic as soon as I got it home in case there were any fingerprints left after Seth had handled it. I dropped it onto his desk with a flourish.

“What’s this?”

“Seth and I found it out where the ceremony took place in the woods. It’s from a charm bracelet that Diana sells in her store.”

“So? You aren’t trying to pin this on your best friend, are you?”

“No. That charm came off of Morgan’s bracelet. I saw her wearing it the day after Rafe was killed and it was missing this charm. I’m sure of it.”

Mac rubbed his chin and leaned forward to look at the charm.

“Okay. I’ll look into it.” He leaned back again. “By the way, Charla and I
are
looking at other people, but we had to arrest Dylan because, right now, the evidence points to him and he has a history of disappearing. That’s between you and me. Don’t tell anyone else, including anyone related to you, Diana, Alex, or Tom Andrews.”

I nodded.

Mac slipped the charm into an envelope and scrawled something illegible across the front.

“I’d really like to go to dinner with you and not talk about the case,” Mac said. He came around his desk and put his arm around my shoulders. “I thought if we could get all of this out in the open then maybe we could talk about . . . more interesting things . . . at dinner.”

I felt a little thrill down my spine at the thought of more interesting things. I really didn’t want to fight with him
or
talk about murder. I nodded agreement.

“Will you help me get your friend out of here?”

I followed him to the back, where Diana sat in one of the interview rooms. I looked through the window in the door. Someone had brought her a sleeping bag and a pillow. It looked like Alex had been sending take-out meals to her as well. The door wasn’t locked when I reached out to turn the knob. I looked at Mac and he cocked an eyebrow in an “I told you so” way.

“Diana?” I peeked around the doorframe.

She was sitting at the table with her head in her hands. Even her curls were droopy. She quickly looked up at the sound of my voice. She stood and rushed over to me.

“Have you found anything that can help Dylan?” she asked.

I nodded. “Maybe.”

“I can’t leave here until I bring Dylan home with me. He’s all the family I have. I have to get him out of here.” She took my hands and squeezed.

“I know.” And I
did
know. She’d taken over the care of Dylan when their parents died. Even though they were both technically adults, the seven-year age difference meant that Diana felt responsible for him. She’d always been more organized, more driven, and more grown-up than Dylan. They fell into a way of relating that was less sibling-sibling, and more parent-child.

“Mac says he can’t let Dylan leave yet. We have to find out what really happened,” Diana said.

“Let me take you home. You can get cleaned up, take a shower, and help us figure this out. It’s not doing Dylan or anyone else any good having to worry about you at the jail.”

In the end, Diana barely had time for a shower.

27

We turned the corner on the way to Diana’s house and saw fire trucks on my street. With a sinking feeling I detoured to see what was happening. As we got closer, I realized they were parked in front of my house. Two firemen were outside chasing Baxter.

I left my Jeep in the street, and ran to the front yard. The alarms were sounding again from inside the house. Seth called to Baxter, who seemed to be having too much fun dodging the firemen. I looked at the porch and saw that Seth held Tuffy at arm’s length and the little dog had light blue paint on his feet and belly.

“Oh my.” Diana held her hand up to her mouth. I suspected she was covering a smile.

Dad came out of the house with Baxter’s leash, and stopped dead when he saw me.

“This isn’t as bad as it looks, Clyde,” Dad said. He held his hands out to stop me from progressing toward the house.

Baxter spotted me and bounded over to say hello. The firemen gratefully followed while Dad snapped on his leash.

The two guys looked nervously from me to my father. One of them said, “Everything seems . . . safe, so we’ll be going now.”

Vi’s warning about Dad’s home repairs echoed in my head.

The firemen climbed into their truck and waved.

“Good luck, Frank!” one of them yelled. The other one laughed and beeped the horn.

“What’s going on, Dad?”

“Maybe I should go . . . ,” Diana said, but I shook my head and held up one finger.

Dad gestured toward the house. “I had set the burglar alarm to test it—I was waiting for Seth to come home so he could pretend to break in and I could time how long it took the alarm company to call.”

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes.

“I decided to fix the toilet roll holder in the downstairs bathroom while I waited,” Dad said. “I noticed it was a little wobbly the other day when I was here.” He caught my eye and quickly looked away. “Anyway, the holder fell off and I slipped and dinged up the wall a little bit.”

“That’s fine, Dad. How did the fire department get involved?”

“I’m getting to that. I got out the paint to repair the wall and then Seth arrived. He didn’t know I’d set the alarm, so when he came in, the alarm went off.”

I nodded.

“Tuffy didn’t like the noise and apparently he likes to hide behind the toilet when he’s scared.”

I was starting to see where this might be headed.

“I went to turn off the alarm, and Tuffy ran into the bathroom and fell into the paint pan.” Dad looked at his shoes. “Tuffy doesn’t like paint, either.”

Seth stepped off the porch, still trying to keep Tuffy’s feet away from his clothing. “In Tuffy’s defense, he’d never stepped in paint before. The poor guy was freaked.”

“In the process of trying to catch Tuffy, I missed the phone call from the alarm company.”

“So they sent the fire truck, again,” Seth said.

Dad’s face brightened. “The response time was really impressive.”

Dad finally allowed me to go inside. The front hallway was covered in tiny blue footprints. The path of Tuffy’s flight was well marked from the bathroom, down the hallway to the front door, where the prints began to fade and then disappeared, presumably where Seth had picked him up.

“I’ll help clean up,” Diana said. “Hot soapy water should be enough since it’s still wet.”

I took a deep breath and rolled up my sleeves, ready to clean up the mess.

Seth stopped me and reminded us that Rafe’s memorial was that evening. Skye and Faith had taken him to Big Buy, where they picked up supplies for the memorial.

Diana was horrified and embarrassed that she’d forgotten.

Lucan had put himself in charge of the plans when Dylan was arrested. He’d called Diana and said he would take over while she dealt with her brother. According to Diana, there wasn’t much actual planning to do since Rafe had left very specific instructions as to how his service should be arranged. We left Dad and Seth with a bucket and a mop and Diana explained the process as I drove her home to get ready in time.

The first part of the service was to be held at dusk in the woods with Rafe’s coven-mates and close friends. I wasn’t going to be a part of that ceremony. Diana said they would encourage Rafe to continue his journey if any part of him still lingered. Apparently both Lucan and Diana felt there was a strong chance of this since Rafe died so suddenly and because he was a control freak. Rafe wanted to be cremated, but his body hadn’t been released yet. They planned to bury his ashes near his parents’ graves in a Grand Rapids cemetery.

My whole family would attend the reception afterward. That was supposed to be a time for anyone to say good-bye. Alex had been working on the catering for the event.

By the time I returned from Diana’s place, Seth and Dad had made a good dent in the cleanup. We put Tuffy in the tub while Dad went home to warn the ladies that the reception was that evening. Before leaving, he extracted a promise that we keep this little mishap to ourselves. He said living with Vi was difficult enough without handing her ammunition.

Seth and I left a damp Tuffy and an exhausted Baxter at home and went to my mom’s for chili while we waited for the reception. Even though I told her we’d have plenty to eat once we got there, she had been planning to serve chili and so we were going to eat the chili.

I wasn’t surprised when the dinner conversation turned to pointed questions about what to expect at the reception.

“Will there be a fiery cauldron again?” Vi asked.

“I don’t like what Vi told me about invoking goddesses and elements,” Mom said. “It just seems dangerous to me, messing with all of that.” She waved her hand in the air to encompass all of the Wiccan philosophy.

“I wish we could go to the woods with Diana,” Seth said.

“
I’m
glad we don’t have to,” Mom said.

Dad focused on his food.

“What will they do at this reception thing?” Vi asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think it’s just like a regular reception after a funeral. Talking and eating.”

“Did Alex say anything about drinks?” Dad asked.

I shrugged and focused on my food, hoping they would move on to other topics. Then I regretted that thought as they began discussing Diana’s release, Mac’s inability to make a reasonable arrest, and who might have had a grudge against Rafe.

After a lengthy monologue on Wiccans and their cats and whether they were reliable sources of information in the murder of Rafe, Vi finally pushed her bowl away and announced we should stop dillydallying. Seth sputtered at the implied accusation and Mom patted his hand and subtly shook her head.

The Reading Room was in an old city building that had been converted into an assembly hall space. It was used by psychics during the tourist season for readings that had been scheduled and for walk-ins. Some of the psychics had people visit them in their homes, but more and more had begun to opt for the more anonymous Reading Room. That way they kept some distance between themselves and their clients. It could fit about one hundred people. I thought that would be plenty of space but Diana was worried.

We arrived and saw that she was right to be concerned. The streets were packed with milling clumps of mourners and Dad had to park several blocks away. He muttered to himself about how it would have been easier to walk from the house and Mom patted his arm as the two walked on ahead toward the reception.

“Wow, that Rafe was more popular than I thought,” Vi said.

“Ooh, look—some of them are wearing robes.” Seth pointed to a couple of people in black, hooded robes walking toward the building.

“I wonder if there’ll be fiery cauldrons again,” Vi said.

“I hope they don’t have that burning spice stick this time,” Seth said. “That thing smells.”

“Shhh!” I said. “You two are acting like . . . tourists.”

Vi’s intake of breath demonstrated her shock and outrage at such an insult. Seth ducked his head and shrugged.

The crowd was rowdier than I had expected and the noise level grew as we walked closer. I spotted Diana’s bright orange hair through the crowd and pushed my way through the throng, pulling Seth and Vi with me.

Diana spun around when I tapped her shoulder and I could see she’d been crying. But she smiled and said, “Isn’t it great that so many people came to say good-bye?”

I nodded, and Vi gave her a hug.

“I got worried earlier that maybe with all the talk about people arguing with Rafe that not many would show up, but look at this.” She held her arms out toward the crowd and I remembered how much she had loved Rafe. I had begun to think of him as just another victim, and a not very nice one at that, but Diana had seen another side of him and I was glad for her that so many people agreed with her. However, I was picking up a tense feeling from the fringes of the crowd. They didn’t all have their solemn funeral faces on. In fact some of them appeared to be heckling the crowd. One clump of boys in their early twenties had clearly been drinking and were still passing a couple of brown bags around, taking sips, and getting louder.

Then I looked the other way, down the street, and saw a small group of people with hand-painted signs:
PAGANS GO HOME! REPENT! FEAR GOD! WICCA
: SATAN’S LIE!
My chest tightened.
Protesters
.

I tried to usher Diana inside before she saw them, but I was too late.

“What are
they
doing here?” she said.

“Who? What?” Vi said and looked around.

“There’s Skye,” Seth said, and pointed.

Skye, dressed in a long black robe with a hood, approached the crowd with her hands up. The group stopped. Skye spoke to the woman standing in the front of the group.

“Is that her mother?” I said to Seth.

He nodded. “I think so.” Seth’s phone buzzed. I glanced over his shoulder and saw a text from Faith:
Have things gotten interesting yet?

He switched off his phone with a disgusted snort. “She knew,” he said to me.