CHAPTER 12
The music flowed out of the speakers in the Joneses’ kitchen. Bach, if Mia’s classical music training at the one private high school in the Boise area held true. Mia had wanted to attend the local high school where all her friends from elementary and junior high had gone, but her parents had insisted on the Catholic school run by Bishop Kelly. Four years of excruciating hell from being the misfit. Those kids had been born into their cliques. Mia hadn’t had a chance even before she opened her mouth.
Music, singing, or just listening to a violin solo along with an unhealthy attachment to the library and a goal to read through all the books in the collection had kept Mia sane for those years when she didn’t have a single friend.
When she graduated and escaped to college, then cooking school, Mia knew she’d never return to the campus. Not for homecoming, or career day, or even to bring her kids to the school. She was done with the place. She’d never been invited to any reunion and she’d never attended. The process worked well for both parties. Mia didn’t have to shoot anyone and the pompous jerks didn’t have to die.
No wonder she’d taken Christina under her wing when she’d arrived at the house Isaac and Mia had shared. Mia saw herself in Christina, even if her upbringing was a lot more privileged and refined than Mia’s own.
Mia glanced at the door, hoping her thoughts would bring her wayward sous chef back home. Christina had been disappearing for days now. Isaac had returned to Boise on Monday, just like he’d promised, but Mia could hear him playing on her sympathies at night, when he called to harass his sister.
Now that she was out of the relationship, she didn’t know what she’d seen in Isaac in the first place. They hadn’t really talked for years, not about what mattered: their relationship, their future. No, their conversations had been all about work and remodeling and Isaac’s family. The problem with denial was that when you really opened your eyes you were standing on the edge of the world, waiting for a push over the brink.
She set out the Green Goddess dressing she’d prepared earlier and emptied the rest of the items from her tote bag. She looked at her list. She had to get going or the food wouldn’t be ready in time. She couldn’t fail.
Mia had finished chopping the onions when Christina finally showed.
“Sorry I was late. We didn’t have a clock.” Christina pulled on an apron and turned to the sink, washing her hands.
“We?” Mia smiled. Maybe there was something to keep Christina hanging around besides the job. She liked having company around the house.
Christina blushed, grabbing a towel from the rack. She pulled out the cutting board and glanced at Mia’s prep list. “Where do you want me to start?”
“You’re lucky we’re running late or you’d never get away with dodging my question like that.” Mia glanced at the list. “We need to get the squab started.”
Christina bit back a smile, but Mia saw it anyway. She’d have to ask Grans about the young men in town. Mia just hoped it wasn’t one of the spoiled rich kids from Sun Valley, slumming it with a Magic Springs girl. Many a heart had been broken when the real girlfriend showed up for the weekend to stake her claim. Even though Mia had been a summer resident for most of her teenage years, she’d never fallen for the prep boys. Give her a bad boy to the core, and if he had a little grease under his fingernails, more the better.
The two women worked side by side for the next hour. The only conversation centered around preparing the salad bar Mia had imagined. Chicken Green Goddess, Ahi Tuna Surprise, How Green Is My Valley, Not Your Mama’s Potato Salad, oven-roasted squab, and a selection of cheeses. Not the most gourmet of meals, but all the salads were spot-on delicious. The hostess needed a spread that wouldn’t offend the more down-to-earth business sponsors her husband’s firm were courting. As Mia put the last bowl on the buffet table, Carrie Jones came by to see her.
“I love it. I can’t believe you pulled this together so quickly.” Carrie used a fork and speared a potato from the salad. She swallowed, then squealed. “The food is amazing. Jacob is so going to love me.”
“I’m glad you like it. Everything’s out and displayed, so my assistant and I will leave now. What time do you want us back to clean up?”
“How about ten? My husband plans on taking the group out to the Lodge for a nightcap.” Carrie pressed a key into Mia’s hand. “Just lock up when you’re done. Leave the invoice in the kitchen, I’ll have a check waiting for you when you come back for your things. Thank you again. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Satisfied customers always bring me repeat work.” Mia put on a hostess smile. Especially because the phrase seemed forced, Marketing 101 level. She didn’t have to worry because Carrie had already disappeared back into the living room. Mia heard her call out that dinner would be served in the dining room and took that as her clue to duck back into the kitchen.
Before she could escape John Louis blocked the door. His smile looked more like a crocodile opening his mouth. “Well, if it isn’t Mia Malone. Have you considered my offer? Ready to get out of here and start your new life?”
“This is my new life, so no, I’m not ready.” She stepped around the jerk. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
His hand reached out and squeezed her arm hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. If they had been anywhere else, Mia would have used her ten years of martial arts training to put the waste of space on his butt. “Look, sister, I need that property. And if you haven’t figured out yet, I get what I need around here. I would have thought what happened to Adele would have spooked you enough. I don’t like it when I’m ignored.”
Mia set her jaw. “Now you’re trying to tell me that you killed Adele?” She laughed, the sound harsh and tinny. “I don’t think you have the balls to actually kill someone. Sure, beat around a defenseless woman or two, but not kill.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of.” John leered at her. “Maybe you need to find out?”
She shrugged out of his grip. “In your dreams, buddy. I think, though, that Mark Baldwin will be very interested in this conversation, and the fact that you sound so much like the man who called and threatened me over the phone the other night. Do you like pushing around girls?”
Now his face was beet red. “You don’t know who you’re messing with. You should have left when I told you to. Now you’ll just be collateral damage.”
A polite cough sounded in the doorway of the dining room.
John spun away and almost ran over a portly man who was obviously looking for the food. Mia greeted the man with a quick smile, then pushed on the door to the kitchen. She had to get out of there.
As she stepped away, she felt a hand on her arm. She looked up into a pair of deep-brown eyes in a face she didn’t recognize. “Can I help you?”
The man blushed and pulled away his hand. “I’m sorry to bother you, I just wanted to see that you were okay. You’re Mia Malone, right?”
“Since I was born.” She let out a breath. “Sorry. My conversation with John has me a little on edge. Thanks for showing up; he’s intense.”
“No one deserves to be talked to in that manner. Not even his wife, who has taken his crap for years.” The guy eyed the buffet table as he continued. “I’m Barney Mann.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Mann.” Mia waited for her breathing to slow. The man in front of her stood five-foot-two, maybe three. Mia saw the heels on the shoes under the cheap suit. From what she could tell by the girth of the man, he might have been five-foot wide as well. His eyes now peered at her from a puffy face. “Are you enjoying the party?”
“Normal chitchat crap. You’d think these people would learn how to get a life. It’s always the same thing: who they saw, who they know, what they paid for their new car. I get tired of talking within the first fifteen minutes of one of these things.” Barney grabbed a plate and filled it with potato salad. He took a bite, “This is actually good. Too bad it’s just picnic food.”
“Mrs. Jones wanted a more casual presentation.” No way would he get her to talk bad about the only client she had who was alive to give a reference.
“Carrie. That girl may have married well, but her husband would have been better off sending her to a finishing school rather than the plastic surgeon to enhance her assets. You know she’s from Alabama, right? And not the good part either. If there is such a thing.”
Mia bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. The guy may not like gossip, but he sure had his own to spread around. She nodded and stepped to the left to the kitchen door. “I’d better go. Enjoy your meal.”
“Wait, I need to talk to you.” Barney shoved another spoonful of potato salad in his mouth and chewed with his mouth open. He set down his plate and held up a finger, holding her in the dining room.
Mia waited, more out of curiosity to see if the man would choke before he asked his question.
Finally he swallowed and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his suit. “I’m Adele’s attorney.”
Mia waited. When he didn’t continue she prodded. “And?”
“I understand her nephew has been spreading some gossip of his own. Like telling people you killed Adele.” The man’s eyes went sharp as he watched her for a reaction.
“I can’t control what other people say, but I didn’t kill Adele. Why would I?” Mia refolded a linen napkin that had been lying on the table.
“I believe you. I’m sure there were many others with actual motive to kill my client. I just thought you might like to know what he was saying.” He glanced at the doorway. “John has been egging him on, at least in my opinion. You must have gotten on his bad side quick. You’ve only lived here, what, two months?”
“My grandmother told me years ago that it didn’t matter what people said about you, the only opinion that mattered was your own.” Mia glanced at the kitchen door. She wanted to rush through it, run home, put up her feet, and forget about tonight.
“True.” Barney Mann leaned closer to Mia, and she could smell the cologne covering an odor of sweat and decay. The man would be following Adele into the next life sooner than he knew. “Honestly, I think Mr. Danforth has a secret. A secret that could affect your grandmother.”
“I don’t understand. What does this have to do with Grans?” A chill hit the back of Mia’s neck under the collar of her chef jacket. Laughter sounded in the hallway; the rest of the guests from the party were arriving for their meal.
“I’ll keep you informed.” Barney glanced at the people coming into the room. “Just keep your grandmother safe.”
Mia reached for his arm to ask him more, but he shook her off and went to the hostess. “What an amazing spread. Did you spend all afternoon in the kitchen yourself?”
Mia heard Carrie’s laughter as she slipped into the kitchen, Barney’s words still ringing in her ears. Keep your grandmother safe.
Christina leaned against the counter, talking in a whisper into her cell. She froze when she saw Mia.
“You can go. I’ll need you back here at ten to help me clean up.” Mia pushed Christina’s coat into her arms. “Who am I to stand in the way of young love?”
Christina blushed, mouthed the words thank you, then exited the house through the back door. Mia watched as she climbed into a two-seater sports car, probably worth more than most houses in good neighborhoods in Boise. So much for hoping she wasn’t seeing one of the Sun Valley elite. “Lord help us if he dumps her,” she muttered to the empty kitchen.
Mia grabbed her purse and coat. As she dug in her purse for the envelope with the invoice for the Joneses, she pulled out the letter to Christina. The one she’d never given to her. She’d put it on Christina’s bed as soon as she arrived home.
When she arrived at the school she groaned. She’d forgotten to turn on the downstairs lights again. The building’s windows gaped black at her, reminding her of the haunted houses she used to draw in Mrs. Stewart’s second-grade class.
Fear trembled through her for a second and she gripped the steering wheel, considering her options. She could go to Grans for a few hours, she could go grocery shopping, she could . . . She could get her butt up out of this car and go into her house. She knew the feeling was a natural result of the attack. But there was no way a criminal would get away with breaking and entering, hitting her on the head, and make her afraid of her shadow. That was not going to happen.
Mia, determined to fight the fear, grabbed her bag and left the warmth and safety of her car. She slowly made her way up the walk, telling herself the lack of speed had more to do with the slight chance of an ice patch and less to do with the fact that she knew she’d be hit as soon as the door opened. And once again she’d be in the back of the ambulance, talking to Trent’s very charming brother.
Now why couldn’t Christina date Levi? The guy seemed nice enough. Maybe a bit of a player, with all the coven stuff. So many witches used the coven roster as their personal little black book. The thrill of the hunt, along with the risk of being turned into a frog, or a snake, or even a garden gnome.
Not for the first time, she wished her magic worked like normal witchcraft. She would have loved to be able to turn Isaac into the slimy, stomach-dragging creature he’d become. But as a hearth witch, her spells and charms seemed to be limited to mostly three things: healing, cooking, and world peace. She’d tried cleaning spells, but had had limited success. The world didn’t seem to be taking on the daily peace charms she chanted in her kitchen after Christina went to bed. Kitchen witches in history had been the village healers. Not the most scary or powerful image. Mia thought about Gloria’s smile as she pictured the kitchen witch doll in her kitchen. She knew more than Grans had explained. Mia wondered what secrets the doll carried.
She stood at her door, key in hand. Stalling; she was stalling. Glancing around, Mia didn’t see anyone lurking in the shadows. She slipped the key in the door and tried to push it open. It hit something on the other side. Mia’s stomach clenched.
“Who’s there?” she called out. Instantly her face flushed heat. Did she really think her attacker would introduce himself before bopping her on the head again? She slipped her hand in her pocket and felt for her phone, just in case. Then she pushed the door again.
This time it slowly creaked open, and Mia realized a box blocked the doorway. She flipped on the light switch, and bright shop lights gleamed around the hallway. The electricians had been in today when she met with the contractors and had stripped out the old lighting fixtures, but apparently hadn’t gotten the new recessed lighting installed yet. So they’d left her with standing lights that made the entry look like an airport runway.
Satisfied no one hid in any dark corners—mostly because there weren’t any dark corners to be found, at least in the foyer—Mia slipped in the door, closing and locking it behind her. She needed to get in control of this fear. Maybe Grans had a safety spell she could wear until she felt more in control. Glancing at the object that blocked the door, Mia was surprised to see the box was wrapped in silver paper and ribbons. She picked up the gift and headed up the stairs to her apartment, leaving on the hallway lights for the moment. She’d be meeting Christina over at the Joneses’ in a couple of hours. She had just time enough to grab some dinner herself and maybe kick back with the mystery she’d been trying to read for the last month. Not like her life hadn’t been mystery enough.
After slipping into her apartment she set the box on the table and turned on the lights in the living room. Again she locked the door to her sanctuary. Better safe than sorry. She walked down the hall, turning on lights as she walked. The brightly lit apartment might be glowing from a casual glance from a townsperson, but the glow helped ease the chill Mia felt. She moved into the bedroom and went right to the bathroom. Slipping out of her chef jacket, Mia turned on the shower, letting the water heat.
She pulled her hair out of the clip that held it up and stared longingly at the bed. She’d been up since five, running from one fire to the next. Sleep would be nice, but she knew if she laid down her head, she’d sleep right through the cleanup. Regretfully, she turned away from the bed and walked to the shower, every muscle in her body screaming.
Ten minutes later she emerged from the bathroom and slipped on a black T-shirt and jeans. She sat on the bed and pulled on her leather boots. She leaned back and closed her eyes for just a second. Then she remembered the gift she’d left in the kitchen. She glanced at the clock as she walked through the hallway. Seven thirty; lots of time. She put the teakettle on to boil and grabbed a piece of bread, slathering on peanut butter. Putting the bread on a paper towel, she sat at the table. She watched the box as she ate her sandwich.
Couldn’t be Isaac. In the five years they’d been together, the man had never given her a gift. Trent? But why would a man she barely knew leave her a present?
She finished her dinner and brushed the crumbs from her hands, excited to find out. She unwrapped the box and pulled off the lid.
There, in a bed of red tissue paper, was her knife.
The whistle from the teakettle screamed.