Pretty Witches All in a Row (4 page)

If Brady noticed the slip up, he gave no evidence of it as he replied.  “Will do.  Oh and Park was able to reach the parents, not a whole lot of helpful info there, she wasn’t in regular contact with them.”

“Let’s plan on regrouping for lunch unless we get a break.  Send me what you get on the two witches though.”
              “You got it.  Might want to be careful what you say to ‘em though, you might get the evil eye or a curse on you or something,” Brady added a playful warning.

“It’ll never happen; I lead an honest and virtuous life, that protects me from all evil hoodoo,” Gibson quipped.  “Well, an honest one anyway.” 

“Okay, but the line is on you to end up with boils or at least a rash by the day’s end.”

“I’ll take that action,” Nick grinned, pulling out into traffic as he switched on his blue tooth.  “Twenty dollars says I last at least until the end of the week until I’m stricken down by some unspeakable malady that defies explanation.”

“If it’s unspeakable, how are we gonna know you’re stricken down?”

“I’ll leave you to figure out the details, I gotta go do cop stuff now.”  Gibson disconnected before he got drawn into it any further, knowing Brady could easily spend the next twenty minutes hammering out all contingencies for the bet.

* * *

The corporate offices for Naturelle Organics were pleasantly decorated in cool tones of sea foam blue and green, very modern with frosted glass and brushed nickel in the construction.  The massive reception desk dwarfed the thin bespectacled girl behind it in comparison. 

Nick approached with a friendly smile, drawing out his badge; he held it up for the receptionist to see.  “Good morning, Tracy.”  He read her name from the name plate.  “I’m Sergeant Gibson.  I wonder if you would be so kind as to direct me to who might have information on a former employee here?”

Tracy blinked up at him owlishly.  “Oh… I guess that would be Terri in HR.  Why don’t you have a seat Sergeant, and I’ll tell her you’re here.  May I ask who the employee is?”

“Skye Mackenzie, thank you,” he answered readily enough, already moving to take a seat. 

With a prim smile, she picked up the phone, dialing an extension.  A frown pinched her features and she hung up.  “Excuse me; I’ll go see if I can find someone to help you.” 

“Take your time,” Nick replied, drawing out his phone to review an email from Brady with a partial list of clients.  He recognized Annaliese’s name on the list as well as Meiliyn’s, but the rest of them were new to him. 

Tracy reappeared with another tight smile.  “It’ll be a few more minutes; I’m afraid Terri’s unavailable at the moment.”

He hated waiting.

The minutes stretched on, and he was about to get up and light a fire under Tracy’s butt when the door opened and a woman approached, a pleasant smile on her face.  Nick felt his pulse kick it up a notch or two at the sight of her, and he straightened in his chair.  She was beautiful, it didn’t take much to see that right off the bat, but there was something else about her that made him sit up and take notice.  Ebony hair was pulled up in an elegant twist at the nape of her neck, an errant strand escaping to curl against the slender column of her throat.  The severe grey skirt and blazer she wore were softened by ample curves, the steep heels accentuating the shapeliness of her legs.  Dark eyes and full lips were perfectly enhanced by cosmetics, not too much, not too little and the effect was striking. 

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Detective,” she smiled graciously.

Nick launched himself out of the plastic chair, a smile replacing the dumbstruck stare he was sure had been on it moments before.  “Not at all Miss…”

“Ryan, Sera Ryan,” she extended her hand. 

“Thank you for seeing me, Miss Ryan.”  Nick accepted her hand, which was cool and limp, the barest of handshakes.  “I’m Sergeant Gibson; I’d like to ask you a few questions about one of your employees.”  Releasing her hand, he produced his ID again, but she didn’t bother to look at it.

“Of course, won’t you please follow me?”  Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed for the interior door she’d come out of.

Resisting the urge to mutter that he’d follow her anywhere, Nick trailed along behind, watching the interesting things happening underneath her skirt when she walked, before snapping himself out of it.  She led him through a wide hallway past several employees, all women, who watched him with undisguised interest. 

Sera opened the door to her office and entered, gesturing to the seat opposite her desk.  “Please have a seat, won’t you?  Would you care for something to drink?  Coffee or water?” 

The placard next to her door bore the inscription ‘Seraphine Ryan, VP of Marketing’.  Wondering how he’d ended up in her office instead of Human Resources, Nick followed her in, waving away her offer of refreshments.  “No, thank you Ma’am, I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”

Nodding, she shut the door firmly, moving to take her seat behind the desk.  “Now then, I understand you have some questions about Skye Mackenzie?” she asked, crossing her legs and clasping her hands demurely in her lap. 

“I do,” Gibson nodded, drawing out his notepad.  “Only I thought I was going to be speaking with Terry in HR.  Not that I’m complaining, mind you,” he gave her his most charming smile. 

“I’m afraid she’s in the middle of a meeting at the moment, and we didn’t want to keep you waiting,” Sera answered smoothly.  “What is it that you would like to know?”

Nick caught on to the flicker of impatience behind her eyes, and wondered if it was because she was a busy executive or due to the nature of his visit.  “Did you know Miss Mackenzie personally?” 

“Yes, I did.  She worked for my division some months ago.”

“Oh?  In what capacity?”

“We occasionally set up displays in local businesses with samples, literature on our products, and where they can be purchased.  She would transport them to the various locations, set them up, tear them down…”

“Do you normally meet all of the display girls in your employ?”  It seemed unlikely for someone of her status to be involved at that level. 

There was the tiniest bit of hesitation before she responded.  “I do.  Perhaps it’s a bit of micro-management, but I like to meet with everyone who comes into contact with the public on our behalf, to let them know of the expectations placed upon them.”

“And what was your impression of Miss Mackenzie?” 

This time the pause was longer as she seemed to choose her words carefully.  “She seemed a little scattered, but she followed instructions well enough.  We never had any complaints about her work.”

“When did she stop working for you?”

“About three or four months ago I’d say, I can get the exact dates for you if you need them.”

“Was she let go or did she quit?” 

Her jaw tightened for a fraction of a moment before her placid smile returned.  “She quit, rather abruptly as I understand it.”

“Oh?  Was there an incident leading up to that?”  Nick made a note to follow up on the point with her friends.

“Not that I’m aware of, but then again, I didn’t have much contact with her after she was hired on.” 

“I see,” he nodded.  “How many people do you have setting up these displays for you at any given time?”

“Just the one, and it’s not full time work at that.  Our local presence is formidable, but we choose our venues carefully.” 

Formidable.  Interesting choice of words.  “Were you aware of any personal problems… any incidents here at work or out on the job…?”  He left the question open ended.

“No, not that I can think of.  But like I said, I didn’t know her very well.”

“Alright, I think I pretty much have everything I need for now.  Thank you for seeing me, Miss Ryan,” he smiled, rising to his feet.   

Sera remained seated, leaning back a little in her chair as he rose.  “May I ask, why the inquiry?”

“Miss Mackenzie died last night,” Gibson replied gravely.  She blinked, and he could see her processing it, but didn’t know her well enough to know exactly what it was she was processing.  He was struck by the thought that this was a tightly controlled lady and she didn’t like to give anything away.  Was that because she felt the need to be in control at all times regardless of the circumstance, or did she have something to hide?

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sera murmured softly, rising to her feet.  “If there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to call.”  There was no mistaking the note of finality in her voice; the interview was at an end. 

Nick nodded; there was nothing more he was going to get out of that one.  “Have a good day, Ma’am, I’ll see myself out.”

* * *

His phone chirped as soon as he stepped out of the elevator and Nick pulled up his email, glancing over the info Brady sent about the two witches Annaliese identified.  In addition to their addresses and phone numbers, he included the information he’d been able to dig up on them for starters. 

Meiliyn Xiang, age twenty-five, single, lives with a room mate Bonnie Myers in the Crosspointe Apartments on 122nd.  No record. Has a brother, Khang, age twenty-eight living in Gresham. Parents Chang and Miu Yi Xiang reside in Bremerton, Washington and own a dry cleaning business there.   Has two years of community college, licensed massage therapist in the state of Oregon and Washington. 

Eleanor Wentworth, age seventy-four, single, lives alone in a rented house on Cooper St. near 82nd.  No record.  No siblings or known family.  Retired. 

Not too much to go on for either of them, but they’d do a more thorough check if necessary.  Since neither of them had a listed job they might be at, Nick decided to hit them up at their residences.  Keying in Meiliyn’s address into his GPS, he started off to the East side.  Twenty minutes later, he was climbing back into his car after finding her not at home.  Sitting in the car, he considered his options.  He could call her cellphone and arrange a time to meet her, or he could stick around for a bit and see if she came back, or move on to Ellie’s place.

He hated waiting.

Starting up the car, he fed the address in for Eleanor’s house.  This time luck was on his side and his knock at the door was answered after a brief pause by the woman herself. 

Ellie Wentworth looked like everyone’s favorite grandmother.  Her long graying hair was gathered back into a fat braid and then coiled up at the crown of her head.  A long string of pearls looped around her throat and matching earrings hung from her ears.  Wearing a high necked, floral print dress with an apron, she dried her hands as she pulled the door open.  Pale blue eyes looked to him expectantly, without a trace of annoyance at finding a stranger on her doorstep.  “Can I help you?” she smiled pleasantly. 

“Good morning, Ma’am,” Nick smiled back just as pleasantly; he could be polite when the occasion called for it.  “I’m Sergeant Gibson, I wonder if I might ask you a few questions about Skye Mackenzie?”  He showed his badge and waited for her to inspect it to her satisfaction.

“About Skye?  Oh dear, I hope she’s not in any trouble,” she clucked, pulling the door open wider.  “Please, won’t you come in?”

Interesting, that was the second time her friends made the assumption she was in some kind of trouble.  “Thank you, Ma’am.”  He stepped across the threshold, observing the interior with interest.  It didn’t look different from any house he’d been in before, no peculiar knick knacks or pagan artifacts like he’d seen at the victim’s house, but then again; he was only being shown the parlor.  “Out of curiosity, what makes you think she’s in trouble?”

“You’re with the police aren’t you?  I assume you’re not here because she’s won the Nobel peace award,” Ellie chuckled, shutting the door. 

“No, I’m not,” Nick admitted, moving deeper into the room. 

“I’ve got the kettle on, would you care for a cup of tea?”

“No thank you, Ma’am, I’m fine.”

“Sit then, I’ll be back in half a tick.”  She shooed him towards the seating group in front of the fireplace as the whistle of the kettle rose shrilly. 

Instead of sitting, Nick continued to examine the room, noting there were no books referencing new age or pagan subjects.  Though there was an interesting stone carving hanging over the fireplace mantle, depicting a man’s face surrounded by leaves that became his beard and hair. 

“Here we are,” Ellie called out brightly, returning with a tray laden with a silver tea service and a plate of muffins.  “I brought an extra cup in case you change your mind.”

“This is a very interesting art piece you have here, Miss Wentworth,” Gibson pointed to the carving.

“Oh, that’s an old piece, handed down through the family for generations,” she smiled with obvious pride.  “It’s quite a nice representation of the Green Man.”

“Green Man?”  The carving was done in a dark grey stone, not at all green. 

“Yes, it’s a common enough motif.  You know they’ve been found all over the world?  In all cultures and religions; it’s fascinating really.  Would you care for a muffin?”  She held out one of the chocolate, oversized muffins delicately from the paper cup. 

“Oh, I shouldn’t…”  Nick shook his head, moving over to the seating group.

“You do like chocolate don’t you?  Besides, if you have one then I don’t have to feel so bad about sabotaging my lunch and having one myself,” she smiled engagingly.

“Well… maybe just one.”  Nick accepted the muffin, it did look appetizing and chocolate, chocolate chip muffins were definitely his favorite.  “Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Oh please, call me Ellie, everyone does.”

Peeling back the crinkled paper cup, he hesitated with the muffin halfway up to his lips.  Should he really be accepting food from someone he was interrogating in connection to a murder case?

“You’re not worried I’m trying to fatten you up like Hansel and Gretel are you?” Ellie chuckled.  “Don’t worry, there’s nothing sinister about my muffins; in fact, they’re from Costco.”

Flushing at being caught, Nick gave her a self conscious smile.  “I was thinking about what you said about sabotaging my diet.” 

“Oh posh, you don’t look like you need to diet.”  She waved away the concern.  “But we could go halfsies if you’d rather?”  Ellie picked up a butter knife from the tray and deftly sliced a muffin into two pieces, setting each on a napkin and leaving it for him to choose if he was going to take a piece.  “Now then, what’s all this about Skye?” she asked, pouring out a cup of fragrant tea.