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“Mrrow!” Trixie stood up on the stool, her ears alert. She cast a glance of what could only be called approval at Maddie.
“Yes!” Suzanne eyes lit up. “After all, we solved Mrs. Hodgeton’s murder last month, didn’t we? I’m sure we can do it again.”
“Detective Edgewater also solved it, remember?” Maddie pointed out.
“Yeah, but at exactly the same time we did,” Suzanne replied. “In fact, you got there before he did. Anyway, we know what we’re doing now.” Suzanne’s strawberry-blonde ponytail swung from side to side in her enthusiasm.
“Mrrow!” Trixie agreed.
Maddie wasn’t quite so sure, but she knew she had to do something about the situation, even if that meant investigating the death herself – with the help of Suzanne and Trixie.
“Okay.” She looked at the inside of the truck and stifled a groan. She and Suzanne had to pack up before they could drive the truck back to her house. Although they were allowed to park it on the square during the day, the town council didn’t allow them to leave it there overnight.
“Let’s take the truck back to my place first,” Maddie suggested.
They tidied everything away, Suzanne looking at the sample plate of health balls with a frown.
“There are still some left.” She showed the plate to Maddie.
“Will they keep?” Maddie asked.
Suzanne shook her head. “Want some?”
Usually, Maddie would take a couple but right now she didn’t feel like eating.
A man she’d met today might have been murdered – and she was implicated in the crime.
“No.” She attempted a smile. “You have them.”
Suzanne covered her mouth as she yawned. “It’ll save me from cooking dinner tonight.”
“Good idea,” Maddie replied.
Once everything was packed up, Maddie and Suzanne jumped into the cab, Maddie starting the engine.
Some of the other vendors had already left, although there were still a couple of sheriff’s deputies standing around the judge’s tent.
Suzanne snapped her fingers. “Maybe the judge did it. Dave was found outside his tent.”
“Maybe,” Maddie agreed, concentrating on turning the truck out of the square. There were still some festival goers lingering on the green, as well as heading toward their own vehicles, and she needed to be careful.
Once they were out of the congested area, Maddie’s shoulders relaxed.
“He seemed nice, though.”
“Who?” Suzanne asked. “Oh, the judge.”
“Yes.” Maddie turned into her driveway. “I better get Trixie inside. She might want to stretch her legs after being in the truck all day.”
“Mrrow!” Trixie agreed.
Maddie carried Trixie to the house, the cat’s soft fur caressing her hands.
“Wouldn’t it be great if you could do a spell that would open the front door for you?” Suzanne joked, as Maddie juggled keys and Trixie. “Do you want me to take her?”
“I think I’ve got it.” Maddie thrust the key into the lock, the door opening easily. She set down Trixie in the hallway, the Persian scampering along the carpet and into the kitchen.
Maddie fed Trixie in the kitchen, giving the cat her favorite beef and gravy in her turquoise bowl.
“Want something to drink?” Maddie asked Suzanne, opening the refrigerator again. “I’ve got milk, juice, water, and soda.”
“I’ll have some juice. Thanks.” Suzanne reached up and got out two glasses from the cupboard near the fridge.
Maddie sipped at her glass of orange juice. Trixie licked the beefy bits in her bowl as if it was the finest meal she’d ever eaten, and Suzanne flopped down on a pine kitchen chair.
“I don’t know if I could drink a cup of coffee again,” Maddie admitted.
“I know what you mean.” Suzanne looked sympathetic. “But it wasn’t your coffee that killed him, Mads. I’m sure of it.”
“I only hope Detective Edgewater is.” Maddie set down her glass of orange juice. “So, where do we start? Should we make a list of suspects first?”
“Good idea.” Suzanne scanned the bare wooden table that matched the chairs. “Got a pen and paper? Or your laptop?”
“Here.” Maddie rifled in a kitchen drawer and pulled out a big notepad and a pen. “This should do for now.”
“Okay.” Suzanne counted on her fingers. “Besides Dave Dantzler—” she paused for a second “—there was Jill, Bob, Claudine, the judge, and the newspaper reporter. Anyone else?”
“You, me, Trixie—” the feline looked up from her bowl at the mention of her name and then continued eating “—and Ramon.”
“There’s no way Ramon is a suspect!” Suzanne sounded shocked.
“I agree it’s unlikely.” At her friend’s scowl, Maddie amended it to, “Incredibly unlikely. But he was there – for some of the time at least.”
“And so were your parents,” Suzanne pointed out. Then she sighed. “And my brother – at the judging.”
They stared at each other.
“There’s no way your brother killed him,” Maddie stated.
“No.” Suzanne sighed. “I think coming up with the right suspects is going to be harder than we thought.”
“Yep,” Maddie agreed, feeling gloomy.
After a couple of minutes of silence, only broken by the white and silver kitchen clock tick-tocking on the wall, Maddie said:
“Maybe we should start with the people Dave interviewed when he accompanied the judge on his rounds.”
“Good idea.” Suzanne’s ponytail bobbed as she nodded. “Maybe he scammed some of the other vendors as well.”
“It doesn’t seem as if he blackmailed Claudine for free coffee, though.” Maddie bit her lip, not wanting to be unkind about the older woman – her nemesis – although sometimes it was hard not to be.
“Yeah,” Suzanne agreed. “But you heard what she said to Detective Edgewater – she would have gladly given him free cappuccinos. So maybe she killed him because he didn’t want her coffee!”
They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“It feels wrong to laugh.” Maddie sobered.
“I know.” Suzanne sipped her orange juice. “But it doesn’t sound as if he was a nice man.”
“So let’s write down who he met during the judging round,” Maddie suggested, picking up the pen.
“Okay. You – sorry, Mads, but maybe we should write down everyone we knew he interviewed and then delete the people we know are innocent – like you.”
“Agreed.” Maddie reluctantly wrote down her own name.
“And Jill,” Suzanne continued. “And Bob.”
“And Claudine.” Maddie wrote down the name of her rival.
“Definitely include her,” Suzanne agreed. “And the nice older married couple I met when I went to get us lunch. They mentioned they’d been interviewed by Dave and the newspaper reporter – his name was Walt, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Maddie nodded. Then she frowned. “But I didn’t meet that older couple.”
“They looked like they were in their late fifties,” Suzanne informed her. “I literally bumped into them while waiting in line for the beef sliders, and we got talking. They asked if I was taking part in the competition and I said you were, and then they told me about their interviews. They seemed really sweet.”
“Where are they from?” Maddie asked.
“Somewhere near Aunt Winifred.” Suzanne scrunched up her face, attempting to remember. “It was pretty noisy at that stall, everyone in line talking to each other, and I didn’t quite catch the name.”
“I’m sure we can find out if we need to.” Maddie wrote down the information Suzanne had given her.
“Maybe you could do a spell!” Suzanne’s face brightened.
“Maybe,” Maddie said doubtfully. “My powers didn’t kick in with that full moon last month.”
“I know.” Suzanne’s expression fell. “I was really hoping they would.”
“Me too,” Maddie replied. She’d been half expectant and half anxious at the thought of receiving her full powers – if indeed there were full witchy powers for her to receive. What if she couldn’t control her new abilities? What if every new spell she tried to cast ended in disaster?
But nothing had happened the night of the full moon, or the day afterward. Even when she’d attempted a new spell from Wytchcraft for the Chosen, it hadn’t worked. Only the Coffee Vision spell she’d mastered when she was seven had.
And she hadn’t tried the Tell the Truth spell again. It had come in handy last month during her and Suzanne’s investigation into their customer’s murder, but what if she couldn’t cast it again? Perhaps she was better off not knowing whether she still had the ability to make that enchantment work.
“When is the full moon this month?” Suzanne asked.
Trixie glanced up from her now empty bowl, looking interested.
“In three days’ time,” Maddie replied.
“Mrrow!” Trixie said, as if she’d known the answer to Suzanne’s question all along.
“Maybe you’ll come into your full powers then,” Suzanne said.
Towards the back of Wytchcraft for the Chosen, a crumbling page had stated that a true witch didn’t come into her full powers until she turned seven-and-twenty. Maddie’s twenty-seventh birthday was last month.
“Maybe,” Maddie said noncommittally. Would she ever find out if she really was a witch? Or perhaps she only had a small gift – the ability to cast the Coffee Vision spell and last month, the Tell the Truth spell.
“So how many suspects do we have?” Suzanne asked, peering over at Maddie’s list.
“Six. Me, Jill, Bob, Claudine, and the older married couple I haven’t met. I counted them as two people.”
“I think we should include the judge, and Walt the newspaper reporter,” Suzanne said. “They accompanied Dave on the judging round.”
“Good idea.” Maddie wrote down their names.
“So that’s eight,” Suzanne remarked. “Now cross off your name, and we’ll have seven.”
Maddie slashed a line through her name, glad Suzanne believed in her innocence.
“Seven suspects is a lot, though,” she said to her friend.
“Yes, but at least it’s a starting point,” Suzanne replied.
“Mrrow,” Trixie agreed.
They both looked at the white Persian and smiled.
“So what do you think we should do next, Trix?” Maddie asked.
“Mrrow!” Trixie trotted into the living room, then turned around and looked at them, as if expecting them to follow her.
“I think she wants us to look at the spell book,” Maddie said.
“Good idea, Trixie,” Suzanne called out. Then she stifled a yawn. “Man, I’m tired.”
Maddie glanced at the kitchen clock. “Is it eight p.m. already?” Suzanne’s yawn was catching. Maddie covered her mouth with her hand. “Do you want to come over tomorrow and we can look through the book then?”
“Mrrow!” Trixie trotted back into the kitchen, seemingly agreeable to Maddie’s suggestion.
“Sounds like a plan.” Suzanne smiled, then stood. “I’ll get going and come back tomorrow morning, after breakfast.”
