Dizzy Spells (14 page)

“Maybe, maybe not,” Thyme said, “but what if
Craig is the murderer?”

Chapter 21

I was driving around Newcastle, and I was
lost. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Thyme,” I said for
the umpteenth time, as yet another impatient driver blasted their
horn at me.

“Pull over and I’ll google the directions
again,” she said. “The connection just dropped out.”

I sighed and gripped the steering wheel.
“Thyme, if you look out the window, you will see that I can’t pull
over, unless you want me to drive over the cliff into the sea.” We
were driving up a long, winding hill from Nobbys Beach in search of
the café where Dianne used to work. There was a white rail beside
us, and then, a fair distance below, was the sea. Huge waves
crashed against Newcastle Beach.

“There!” she screeched. “King Edward Park.
Do you see the sign? Pull over there.”

I swung the wheel hard and ended up on a
narrow road. I parked next to a ‘No Parking’ sign. “I’ll keep the
engine running and watch out for cops while you google the
directions,” I said. “I don’t know why you didn’t bring your
scrying water.”

Thyme looked up. “Are you kidding? There’d
be no water left in it by the time we got here, the way you
drive.”

I pouted. I still hadn’t told Thyme that I
had seen images in the scrying water. I wasn’t exactly keeping it
from her, but I was still coming to terms with the fact that I was
a witch.

“There it is,” Thyme said triumphantly,
followed not so triumphantly by, “Oh, I think we just passed it.
The turn off, at any rate. You need to go down Watt Street.”

I sighed loudly and turned the car around.
It had taken four hours to get here. I wondered if there was any
point to the entire trip.

“Quick, turn left!”

I did as Thyme said, and found myself in
Hunter Street. A few minutes later, after driving once again beside
the sea, Thyme directed me to pull over outside a large brick
building. “I thought she worked in a café?” I asked. “So why does
that sign say ‘Antique Center?’”

Thyme shook her head. “It says it’s here on
the map.”

“What do we do now?”

“Drive around a little. If we see someone,
we can ask them.”

I edged the car forward, but I had only gone
a few yards when I saw a sign partially obscured behind a half-dead
shrub. “Thyme, look!”

“Waterside Eatery,” Thyme said aloud. “Yay,
we found it!”

I turned left into a parking area, although
there was only one vacant spot, and it was hard to maneuver despite
the fact it was a small car. The parking was free, the only free
parking I had seen since we’d arrived in Newcastle.

I got out of the car and looked around.
“Waterside Eatery?” I said. “Roadside, more like it. The water is
over there.” I pointed to the harbor.

“At least you can see the water between the
buildings,” Thyme said.

I shrugged. I was nervous now that we were
here. On the one hand, we could have wasted a day, and Ruprecht and
Camino would have wasted a day minding the shop for me. On the
other hand, there was a chance we would find out if Dianne knew
Thomas Hale more than as a realtor-client relationship. If so, that
would give us something to take to the police.

I opened the big glass door for Thyme to go
inside. “Let’s go and see if any of her old co-workers want to
talk.”

The interior was bright and trendy.
Carefully mismatched chairs sat at carefully mismatched tables. The
furniture was up-cycled and chalk-painted. Equally trendy patrons
lounged around, drinking green smoothies and reading
newspapers.

I walked right up to the counter. “Hi, we’re
looking for a friend of ours, Dianne Longley. She used to work
here, but we’ve lost touch with her.”

The waitress paused for a few moments.
“Wait, the lady with all the blue eye makeup?”

I looked glanced over at Thyme to see her
hand over her mouth. She was doing her best not to laugh.

I nodded. “Yes, that’s Dianne. You wouldn’t
happen to know any of her friends around here, would you? Or where
she might be hanging out?”

“I didn’t know her that well. I only work
part time, and we never did the same shifts. Every Friday night I’d
relieve her, though. She always went out to that bar across the
road with her friends.”

“Is anyone else working here today that knew
her?”

The waitress shook her head. “Sorry.”

As we turned to leave, she called us back.
“One of the girls who used to work here works over at the bar now.
She was a good friend of Dianne’s.”

We thanked her and walked back outside. “You
don’t want to go in there, do you?” Thyme asked.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go in,” I
said. “I’m just not sure what to expect when we do.”

“Just remember our plan. I’m getting married
and want to invite her to my wedding. If we find anyone that knows
her, we’ll find out if they knew Thomas Hale, too.”

I nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.”

The bar was dark inside, and there were
hardly any people in sight. I figured it only came alive at
night.

“What can I get you?” the bored bartender
asked. He didn’t look up from polishing a glass.

“We’re actually here looking for a friend,”
I said. “Would you happen to know a woman named Dianne Longley who
used to come here a lot?”

“I just started a few days ago,” he said
with a shrug. “You could ask Charlie over there, though.” He
pointed toward an old man who sat by himself at the edge of the
bar. “He’s a regular here.”

“Thank you.”

As we approached the man, I was hit by the
strong smell of whiskey. I hoped the man was coherent, and that his
memory wasn’t fried by alcohol. “Hello, ladies, lovely day for a
drink,” he murmured, fumbling with his glass.

“We’re looking for a friend,” Thyme said.
“Have you ever met a woman by the name of Dianne Longley? She used
to come here every Friday night.”

After the man chugged at his drink, he
slammed the glass down on the counter and smiled at us. “Tom Hale’s
girl? She hasn’t been in here lately. Neither has he, come to think
of it,” he said with a loud burp.

Thyme and I gasped and looked at each
other.

“What do you mean, she was his girl?” I
asked him.

“Those two lovebirds! They used to come in
here all the time together, always draped all over each other. They
were supposed to be moving away together, but that was the last I
heard from either of them.” He polished off the rest of his drink
in one gulp.

“Excuse me, is there something I can help
you two with?” a woman’s voice said from behind us. “Why are you
asking so many questions about Dianne?”

“We’re old friends of hers,” Thyme said.
“I’m getting married and I wanted to invite her to the
wedding.”

The woman crossed her arms over her chest
and jutted out her chin. “Are you cops? They’ve been in here asking
questions.”

“No, of course not,” I said. “We’re old
friends of hers.”

The woman clearly did not believe us. “What
are your names?” she snapped. “I’ll make sure Dianne gets in touch
with you.”

“Um, we’re the Winchester sisters,” I said.
“I’m Samantha and this is Deanna. Dianne has our numbers. Tell her
to call us, will you?”

With that, we beat a hasty retreat. We
didn’t speak again until we were in the car, and driving out of the
parking lot.

Finally, Thyme spoke. “Are you nuts?
Samantha and Deanna Winchester? What if Dianne’s friend is a
Supernatural
fan?”

I chuckled. “Well, it was the first thing I
thought of, and you didn’t come up with anything better. Besides,
Dianne will know it was us as soon as her friend describes us. At
least we got what we came here for. We now know that Dianne and
Thomas Hale were good friends—and more than just friends, by the
sound of it.”

Thyme shook her head. “That man was hardly
the most reliable witness.”

“Still, he knew Thomas Hale, didn’t he?”

“I don’t understand why the police didn’t
figure this out,” Thyme said.

I shrugged, and slammed on the brakes when a
bicycle pulled out in front of me. “No idea. Perhaps that old man
wasn’t here when they went in to question people, and her friend
wouldn’t tell them anything. Besides, Dianne did admit to being his
client. That would throw them off the track.”

“So we’re thinking Dianne’s the murderer
now?”

I nodded. “Sadly, yes. It sure looks that
way.”

Chapter 22

“Are we there yet?” Thyme asked, sitting up
and rubbing her eyes.

“Almost,” I said. “Did all that excitement
back there tire you out?”

Thyme shook her head. “I’m just worried what
Dianne will do when her friend tells her we were snooping
around.”

“That’s why we’re going straight to the
police station.”

Thyme peered out her window. “Like I keep
saying, I don’t think they’re open this late.”

“And like I keep saying,” I said, “we can
just drive past and see if their lights are on. If they’re shut,
we’ll just go back in the morning. With any luck, they might’ve
already arrested her, since you left a message for the detectives
that she’s diabetic. They didn’t call you back about that, did
they?”

Thyme shook her head. “No, but the desk
sergeant said he’d pass it on.”

“I just hope they don’t get mad that we went
snooping around for information.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Thyme said. “It’s
too late to turn back now.”

Surprisingly, there was a light shining from
the windows of the Bayberry Creek police station.

I climbed out of the car and stretched. My
back was sore from sitting in the car for so long.

I blinked hard when the door opened into a
brightly lit foyer. I pressed the buzzer. It chimed, echoing around
the empty room. After a few moments, a heavyset man in a blue
uniform appeared. “What can I do for you?”

“Is Detective Harrison in?” I asked him. “Or
Detective Sassafras?”

“What do you want to speak them about?” the
cop asked.

I bit my lip. He wasn’t going to make this
easy. “We have some information for them about Thomas Hale’s
murder,” I said. “I’m Amelia Spelled. I was the one who discovered
his body on my porch. The detectives were sent photos of me with
the victim and they discovered they were faked. They asked me if I
knew who would want to frame me.”

The sergeant just looked at me. “Go on,” he
said after an interval.

“Well, now I do know who framed me,” I said.
“Dianne Longley. She told the detectives that Thomas Hale was only
her realtor, but they were dating.”

“And you know this because?” he said
gruffly.

Thyme and I exchanged glances. I took a deep
breath. “Well, today we went to Newcastle to where Dianne used to
work, and we were told that Dianne and Thomas Hale were always
draped all over each other like lovebirds.”

The cop held up his hand and his face turned
beet red. “Wait! You two went all the way to Newcastle by
yourselves to ask questions about a murder suspect? Do you have any
idea how dangerous that is?” he barked. “I could arrest you both
right now for that. What do you think you are, amateur sleuths or
something? This isn’t a game!”

“Of course it’s not a game,” Thyme said,
“but you guys have had my friend in your sights since that poor
man’s body was found. You’ve had her in for questioning twice. Now
we have information to give you.”

I held my breath waiting for the cop’s
response. “And the information is?”

“Like I said, Dianne and Thomas weren’t just
passing acquaintances—they were in a relationship,” I said.

“Who told you that?”

“It was one of her friends from the bar that
she and Thomas frequented every Friday night before moving here,” I
said. “The bar is right across from where she worked, the Waterside
Eatery.”

“All right. I’ll pass that information onto
the detectives.”

Thyme leaned forward. “Do they already have
the information that Dianne is a diabetic?”

“Detective Harrison and Defective Sassafras
are in Sydney for a court hearing,” the cop said. “This information
will be passed along to them. Now you two are to stay away from
this investigation. There will be no more sticking your noses into
this case. Let us handle it.”

“But…” Thyme began.

“I’ll let you
ladies in on a secret,” the cop said. “We’re the police, and this
is an ongoing investigation. To be quite honest, and this
might shock you,
we’re already looking into it. We’re looking into it, because
that’s our job. Now, it’s not your job to go running around digging
stuff up. You don’t have a badge, do you?”

When neither
of u
s said
anything, the cop asked again. “Do either of you have a
badge?”

“No,” we said in unison.

“Then I suggest you leave this for us, and
head on home.”

We
l
eft at that
point—there was no use saying anything else. I was upset, but Thyme
seemed to be in better spirits. “He really had to say that to us,”
she said when we were back in my car. “The main thing is that the
detectives will get the information.”

“I hope they get it in a hurry,” I
said. “It’s bad timing that they’re in Sydney right
now.”

Thyme
shook her head.
“Don’t worry. They can tell the local cops what to do. They can
order them to arrest Dianne.”

“I suppose so. Anyway, why did Dianne
try to frame me? I still don’t understand it.”

“Possibly because Thomas Hale was
found on your porch, so you were the easiest scapegoat, I suppose,
but who knows? I dare say you’ll find out, eventually.”