Aunt Thelma called me as I was walking back to the car. "There’s someone on their way to the inn that I think you should talk to," she said after our lines connected.
"Who is it?"
"Mr. Haggerty's editor. His name’s Thomas Crum. He came to track down his journalist after Mr. Haggerty quit returning calls. I just broke the news of his passing. I didn't tell him any other details. He's getting his bags now."
"I'll be there in ten minutes.”
Amelia was entertaining our new guest when I walked into the lobby.
"A Pulitzer Prize? Are you certain?” The man, who I presumed to be the editor for Witch Reader’s Magazine, bent forward to get on the same level as the young psychic.
"Yes, but it's not going to be where you're at now. You're going to have to go work for the mortals in order to land the prize."
"Interesting. I'll keep it in mind.”
"Good luck! It was nice meeting you." Amelia waved enthusiastically to the editor and then turned to meet the twins. Beatrice and Sabrina were waiting nearby. The trio walked out of the lobby together, talking a mile a minute.
"It seems like Amelia is happier," I said to my aunt.
“I talked to her mom earlier, and she said that Amelia likes telling fortunes, but only when they're good."
"Downfall to the profession, I suppose. If only there were a way she could choose what she saw."
"What did you say?" Aunt Thelma asked. It was a rhetorical question. I could tell by the twinkle in her eye.
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm not sure yet, but I'll let you know when I figure things out." The editor approached the registration desk. “Mr. Crum, this here's my niece, Angelica, who I was telling you about. She's been working with the sheriff's department and finding out what happened to your journalist." I smiled at my aunt. If only the sheriff's department considered my interfering in their cases as helping.
"I'm very sorry for your loss," I said after shaking Thomas's hand.
"Thank you so much. I hate to say it, but I'm not surprised. I always knew David's mouth would get him in trouble. If he hadn't been such a good writer, I would've fired him years ago. Can't help but feel a bit responsible."
"Because you didn't fire him?" I asked.
"For sending him here. I knew it was a mistake. A man like David Haggerty didn't appreciate the simple things in life. But I was short-staffed, and I thought if I sent Catherine along, the two could work together. Is she around?"
"Who?" I asked.
"Catherine Kelly. She's the other journalist judging the town," Thomas clarified.
"Catherine? I don't know a Catherine." I turned to my aunt to see if she knew who Thomas was referring to. "Mr. Haggerty checked in solo," I explained.
Aunt Thelma tapped her chin. "But you know what, there was a reservation for a Catherine Kelly now that you mention it. She never checked in."
"What do you mean she never checked in?" Thomas asked.
"She was a no-show." Aunt Thelma looked down at the calendar as if she was looking for a note but came up empty. "No phone call or anything; she forfeited her deposit, and I charged her for the first night."
"That doesn't make sense. If you will excuse me, I'm going to see if I can reach my junior editor." Thomas stepped away and walked toward the lobby's seating area. Aunt Thelma had started the fire while I was out and added a couple of fleece throws to the back of the brown leather couch, creating a comfy scene. I'd love to wrap up on the sofa with a cup of hot cider and a good book if I wasn't solving a murder.
We tried not to eavesdrop, but Thomas's voice carried courtesy of the lobby's vaulted ceiling. From the sounds of it, his junior editor hadn't heard from Catherine.
"That doesn't sound good. I wonder if this mystery woman is the one who killed Mr. Haggerty?"
"I don't know, maybe." I had to admit that I liked the idea of someone from outside Silverlake being responsible for Mr. Haggerty's death.
"Speaking of Mr. Haggerty, I was thinking about how no one saw him with the coffee cup Friday night. What if he went out Saturday morning? He could've walked out of his room's sliding glass door and got a cup of coffee without any of us seeing him."
"And leave his door unlocked? That doesn't sound like him," Aunt Thelma remarked. She was right. I said as much. If Mr. Haggerty had gone out his sliding glass door, he wouldn't have been able to lock it behind him.
We were both quiet for a moment while we thought things through.
"I think we're making this harder than it has to be," I said. "Maybe Mr. Haggerty walked right through the lobby and out the front door. Where's Percy?" Lately, I saw his wife more than our resident poltergeist, but he had to be around somewhere. Percy worked the midnight shift. He always had for as long as I could remember.
"He popped off to visit his brother in Idaho. There was a birthday party amongst the living that he thought he could crash. Something about a great, great nephew.”
"He worked Friday night through Saturday morning, though, didn't he?"
"He did, but only until about seven o’clock. Emily came in after that."
Emily worked part-time at the inn and had since picked up more hours. She might be young, but she had a solid work ethic. She was an early riser too, which suited me just fine. I preferred working midmorning through late afternoon. "Let me call her and see if she remembers seeing Mr. Haggerty come through."
I took out my cell phone and did just that. I wasn't surprised when Emily answered right away. Her punctuality was one of the reasons why I hired her. That and perhaps she reminded me a bit of myself.
"Hey, Angelica. Is everything okay?" my employee asked.
"Yes and no."
"Oh? Do you need me to come in? I can't right now, but I'm free in an hour.”
"No, it's not that. You heard about our guest that passed away, right?" Emily had left before we discovered the body, but I had assumed she would have heard about it through the grapevine.
"What? No! I left town yesterday and spent the night up at Georgia State. I'm almost back now. We had a guest pass away?"
"It was Mr. Haggerty. You know that journalist."
"I know who you’re talking about. Wow, I can't believe that. How did he die?"
“I can fill you in on that later, but right now, we're trying to find out if you saw him yesterday morning when you were working. The sheriff is trying to determine the time of death." Okay, I was trying to determine the time of death, but I was sure the sheriff wanted to know too.
"Let me think about it." I gave Emily a thinking minute. “You know what, I did. He came through the lobby, probably around eight o'clock. I'm not positive, but it was before your aunt came down for the morning, and she's usually behind the desk by eight thirty.”
"You did? Do you know if he had a cup of coffee with them?"
“Eh … I think so? I'm not positive because it always seemed like he had a coffee cup with him."
"It did?"
"At least every morning I saw him,” Emily commented.
"Okay, you've been very helpful. Thank you so much. Drive safe, and I'll see you, what, tomorrow morning?"
"Bright and early," Emily said, and then we hung up.
Aunt Thelma looked at me expectantly.
"What did she say?"
"She saw him before you came down for the morning, and she thinks he had a cup of coffee with him."
"Looks like you narrowed down the time of death."
"I know." I stood lost in my thoughts.
"But?" She could tell I had a lot on my mind.
"I'm torn. Do I hunt down this Catherine person, retrace Mr. Haggerty’s final hours, or should I look for the sapphire?" I hadn't forgotten about the missing gemstone.
"Leave the sapphire to the town council. I'm not as worried about it as I was last night,” Aunt Thelma confessed.
"How come?" I wondered what could possibly have changed in the past twelve hours.
"I forgot about the precautions we added after the last theft attempt until Mike McCormick caught up and reminded me."
"Added precautions? Like what?” They couldn't have been too effective if someone had still been able to steal it.
“It's top-secret, official council business. I could tell you about it if you were a member..." Aunt Thelma allowed her sentence to trail off. It was no secret she wanted me to run for a spot on the council, but I thought one Nightingale on the committee was plenty. "I wouldn't have said anything except I know how you worry.”
"So, you don't want me looking for the sapphire?"
"Don't stick your head in the sand or anything. If you hear something, I expect you to look into it, but no need to go hunting for clues. I have a feeling the sapphire will turn up when it's supposed to."
"Well, that isn't cryptic or anything," I replied dryly.
"Now, where is my wand?" Aunt Thelma patted her pockets and smoothed out her hair. She was known to use it like a hairpin from time to time, but she came up empty.
"You misplaced it again?"
"Don't look at me like that. Studies show that people who frequently misplace things are creative geniuses."
"You just made that up."
"Hm, prove it." Aunt Thelma lifted the desk calendar to look under it, followed by the computer keyboard.
"I thought you put a charm on it so you'd be able to find it?"
"I took it off." Aunt Thelma tapped her temple. "Finding things helps keep your mind sharp."
I shook my head. "You don’t have another bowl of pretzels lying around, do you?"
"Aren't you cute."
“I’m being serious."
Aunt Thelma slipped into the back office and returned with her purse. She unceremoniously dumped it on the counter. Out fell a half-eaten candy bar, two tubes of lipstick, a pack of bubblegum, her wallet, and a gold watch. "Oh look, my watch and my favorite lipstick! I was wondering where they went to. Everything I need except for my wand." Aunt Thelma drummed her fingers on the countertop.
"Where did you have it last?" It always helped me to retrace my steps.
Aunt Thelma snapped her fingers. "Oh, I know. She turned around to the office, and this time, I followed her. Aunt Thelma pulled open the desk drawer and retrieved a romance novel. Her wand was tucked safely in between the pages. "I needed a bookmark."
"Of course you did."
"What? It worked."
"You could've used a piece of paper, an envelope, a receipt. Look around. It's an office. There's paper everywhere," But Aunt Thelma wasn't listening to me. She was too busy reading her book.