Daggers & Donuts Page 2

  Damien and I were so shocked when they showed up at Marcall’s the day before our Easter celebration that we could barely talk. TMZ has nothing on Gladys.

  She’s a tall, thin woman with a shock of fuzzy gray hair who always dresses impeccably. Today she’s dressed for the festivities with linen shorts, a red blouse, and a red, white, and blue scarf knotted at her throat.

  Her navy-blue straw hat is perched jauntily on her head. “Good morning, Gladys!” I call out to her while Tom lets himself into the restaurant to unload the supplies.

  “Oh, thank goodness you’re back!” she cries. “I’ve just heard the most dreadful news! Darla Wagner, the magician’s assistant, was found murdered in the park at the festival.”

  “It’s true,” I confirm.

  “I’ve also heard that she was riddled with machine-gun bullets.”

  “Uh, no, that’s not true.” I’m not sure how much I should let on at this point. I don’t want to mess up Drew’s investigation or anything, but I doubt there’s harm in pointing out that she was not gunned down in a hail of bullets.

  “But you’re the one who first discovered the body?”

  “Regretfully, yes. Well, technically, it was the rabbits, but they just showed me where to find her.”

  “There’s been some talk that when Harold hired her as his assistant, it’s because something was going on between them,if you know what I mean,” Gladys tsks.

  “Really? Isn’t she a little young for him?”

  “Young and naive! It’s not like she had experience in that line of work either. She was waiting tables at Denny's when he hired her. They tell me that Hilda Barnes, his girlfriend, was furious. She’d taken to following the poor girl around town thinking she might catch them in the act.”

  I ponder the news for a moment. “That would give Hilda motive to kill, wouldn’t it?”

  Gladys nods her head vigorously. “It would certainly give me motive to kill!” she growls as she mimics shooting someone.

  “Gladys!” I exclaim. I can’t decide if I should be scared about this or laugh at her theatrics.

  “That’s what would happen if I had ever caught my dear Barney; God rest his soul, messing around with some young chippy behind my back.”

  “I can’t imagine that your late husband ever even considered it for a second,” I reassure her.

  Once again, for good measure, she makes shooting gestures with her fingers. Yikes.

  After I’ve sent Gladys and her finger guns on her way, I help Tom put everything back.

  “You know you don’t have to help me put all of this away. You can go to Damien now if you want.”

  Tom shakes his head. “He just texted and said he’s with his mom at his aunt’s house, and it’s all very chaotic and that I should just stay here and help you.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Trust me, I’m sure. Damien wouldn’t tell me to stay here if he didn’t mean it. He also said to tell you that you’re still supposed to go to the fireworks show tonight.”

  My mouth drops. How did he know exactly what I was thinking?

  Tom smiles in answer to my thoughts. “Because he knows how you are and knew that the first thing you’d offer to do is come right over and help out. But he also remembered that this is your first time entering the fireworks display contest, and he insists that you be there for the show.”

  “You picked a great guy Tom.”

  He beams at me. “I know.”

  “Tell him that the moment he needs anything, I’ll be there.”

  Tom nods. “I will tell him that, and I assure you, he already knows it as well.

  After we finish up at the cafe, Tom and Bubbles get ready to head home while I do the same with my own furry companions.

  I can’t stop thinking about Damien’s cousin and what he must be going through. To have your girlfriend stabbed to death in broad daylight, in the middle of a festival even, is so harsh. I can’t even begin to understand it.

  But then I feel guilty thinking about this evening’s events. I was really looking forward to the entire thing. A picnic with all my friends and then the fireworks show. Crested Peaks is beginning to feel like the first solid home I’ve ever had, despite the close calls I’ve had with crazed criminals. I

  It’s so different from New York City in every way. And yes, I lived here as a teenager, but the only thing I saw back then was my own angst as an orphan. Now, I purposely take time to do things like sip tea while reading a book, on the wrap around porch of my grandma’s house. I stare up in awe at the jagged mountain edges that surrounding the entire community and I wonder how I never noticed this before.

  I also failed to appreciate how the community really cares for and looks out for each other. I know my neighbors’ names, and they know mine. When I come home from work in the winter, after a long day at the café, I often find that someone has shoveled my sidewalk for me.

  The friends that I’ve made working at the café have become the family I never had. Their loyalty is fierce, and I love them for it. And now my heart breaks for what Damien’s family must be going through. Darla’s family too. I don’t know them, but I can’t imagine losing someone so young in such a violent way.

  I’m in a somber mood as I climb the steps to my home, the home my grandmother left me. Still, when the rabbits and Stumpy all scramble up the steps beside me, racing for the door in a competition to see who gets there first, I can’t help but laugh. The three of them are the most entertaining creatures I could have imagined. And even though Marshall and Marcus basically adopted Stumpy without telling me I’m glad they did.

  I just never imagined, when I returned to Crested Peaks, that I’d live with three dead body finding, crime-solving, talking fur balls.

  Chapter 4

  I feed the boys an early dinner, which they all happily inhale, and then pass out for a quick nap before leaving for the fireworks and picnic event at the Hotel Glacier. When the rabbits invited a newly homeless Stumpy to move in with us a few months ago, they did it without bothering to even ask me first.

  He followed us out to the car after closing the cafe one evening. When I asked what he was doing, the rabbits said they told him he could live with us because the new tenant next door, where he had lived for years, threatened to take him to the shelter if he didn’t leave.

  He’s a gray tabby cat who has stumps for back legs. He claims he’s a war veteran. As much as I’d like to doubt that, once upon a time, I didn’t believe in talking animals either, so who knows.

  I haven’t heard from Drew since we left the festival, which doesn’t surprise me. There’s a reason he made detective within only a few years of joining the force, even though it’s almost unheard of. So, when Miranda texts me to see if I want to ride to the fireworks show with her and her boyfriend Miles, the town librarian, I quickly agree.

  I’m eager to discuss what seems to be the latest Crested Peaks murder, as well as what I sensed with Harold, the magician. I text Drew to let him know I’m riding to the hotel with Miranda, and I’m relieved when he writes back to say he’ll meet us there later. I was worried he might end up canceling altogether.

  The fireworks show in Crested Peaks is unique because the displays are artfully designed by witches and wizards, and there’s a competition involved for the best display. Miranda won last year. And while her display this year is mostly a secret, from what little she’s told me, I bet she’ll win again.

  Since this is my first year designing a display, mine is pretty basic, but I’m still excited about it. We don’t do traditional fireworks shows here because we’re in the mountains, and the pine trees could catch fire if a stray spark landed somewhere it shouldn’t. Another special part about our show is that it’s mostly silent, with no booming noises, so it’s pet and veteran friendly.

  Some of the experienced Supernaturals, like Miranda, include music with their display, but I’m not that adept yet. Each display is limited to 60 seconds. They had to implement that ru
le because one year, a wizard produced a three-hour show, and everyone else got bored and went home.

  The event is held behind the Hotel Glacier, overlooking the lake, with the picturesque mountains as a backdrop. Harvey, one of our favorite ghosts who lives at the hotel, gets especially excited because it’s one of the town events he can actually attend. He was killed at a shootout in the hotel in the late 1800s which made it his permanent home.

  He’s been very helpful with solving the last two murders because being at the most popular hotel in town, he sees a lot of people come and go. And as a ghost, he can move around the huge and elaborate hotel, undetected, when he wants to.

  Once Miranda and Miles arrive at my house, Miles takes the picnic basket from me to load in their car. He busies himself trying to talk to the rabbits and Stumpy. He’s fascinated by the fact I can communicate with them, and he’s always hoping somehow they’ll slip up and say something to him.

  Miranda is my amazing magic mentor. My parents were Supernaturals, who also happened to be con artists, that were killed over a deal gone wrong, and that’s when I was sent to live with Gran. As a teenager, I chose to deny my magical abilities, so I wouldn’t turn out like my parents. After high school, I moved to New York City, hoping to escape my past.

  Thankfully, however, when I moved back to Crested Peaks, I realized it wasn’t the magic that made my parents crooks; it was just my parents’ period. But after more than two decades of refusing to develop my craft, I sorely needed proper training and a ton of practice. Miranda has been a huge help with that. ​

  “Heard anything from Drew?” Miranda asks.

  “He’s busy with the case, but he’ll meet us at the hotel as soon as he can.”

  “What about Damien?” she asks, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Tom insisted we aren’t needed at this time. Damien texted later and insisted that we enjoy ourselves at the picnic. He said that there will be plenty of time tomorrow for us to fuss over him and his family.” I respond.

  “I can’t imagine what they must be going through.”

  “I was thinking the exact same thing earlier. I still feel a little guilty for going to the events tonight, but Damien says it’s so chaotic at his aunt’s house right now we would just be in the way as it is.”

  “I’m sure he’ll let us know when he’s ready.”

  “By the way, there is something I want to ask you about.”

  “Of course,” Miranda replies.

  “When Harold saw Darla’s body, he was distraught. Like over the top upset, which seemed odd for someone who’s just her boss. But that wasn’t the really weird part. I felt the same overwhelming and electrifying energy that I did when The Jackal was holding me at gunpoint. I’m still struggling to make sense of it.”

  “Like a gut feeling?” Miles asks.

  “It’s so much more than that. It’s more like an energy. It’s just something that I know. Without a doubt. Like with The Jackal. I knew she was about to pull the trigger and that I had to act fast.”

  “And that’s when you used magic to hit her with the whiskey bottle and deflect the gun,” Miranda reminds us.

  “Yeah,” I respond softly.

  “As you know, there are some Supernaturals who are pure psychics, and there are empaths too. But my guess is, as a witch, you also have inherited some form of psychic ability.”

  “That’s exciting and scary all at once,” I point out.

  “Indeed, it is,” Miranda responds.

  “Did your grandma have psychic abilities?” Miles asks.

  I shake my head regretfully, “I don’t know. She never mentioned it, and I never noticed it. And here’s another question, why didn’t I get that same feeling when Bryce held me at gunpoint?”

  Miranda pauses thoughtfully. “When you first came back to Crested Peaks, you were just beginning to acknowledge you’re a witch. I suspect that as you practice and accept your powers on a deeper level; you’ll not only gain and polish skills, your natural abilities will be heightened as well.”

  “How many times have you been held at gunpoint?” Miles asks.

  “Too many!” Miranda and I answer in unison.

  When we arrive at the fireworks picnic, it looks like the entire town is here. Marshall, Marcus, and Stumpy all run off through the crowd in search of their friends and to beg treats from as many people as possible. Miranda, Miles, and I snag a prime spot right next to a 100-year-old maple tree.

  “How is it with so many people here, this spot isn’t taken? This is the best spot in the area!”

  Miranda giggles.

  “What?” I ask her.

  Miles leans over to whisper to me. “She does this every year - she bewitches the spot to look like there’s a big, noisy family already sitting here. The Supernaturals know it’s bewitched, and anybody who isn’t invited by Miranda who tries to sit here develops a sudden case of poison ivy rash. The Non Supernaturals see a large and boisterous family in this spot and move on.”

  “How come I don’t think of things like that?” I ask.

  “Stick with me kid, you will eventually!” Miranda laughs.

  We lay out the blanket and unpack the picnic basket while I text Drew to let him know where we are.

  He texts back:

  Under the usual tree?

  How did you know?

  Miranda manages to snag that spot every year for some reason.

  “Are you nervous about your first magical fireworks display?” Miranda interrupts our texting.

  “A little. Although, as you know, it’s pretty basic. Nothing fancy.”

  “Everyone will love it, I’m sure.”

  “What about your display?”

  “Oh, I’m more than ready. And Penelope Fishbea won’t know what hit her.”

  I look at Miles in confusion. This is the first I’ve heard this name.

  “Penelope Fishbea is Miranda’s magical arch nemesis.”

  Miranda screws up her face. “She’s a hack! And a cheater! And she beat me twice in the last five years. And whenever she does beat me, she spends the year rubbing it in my face.”

  “The nerve!” I exclaim in mock offense.

  “Right? I swear she has spies out there just hoping to catch a glimpse of what I’m working on. I have to be so top secret about the whole thing.”

  I shrug my shoulders at Miles, “Even I know very little about her display.”

  “She doesn’t tell me either,” he says.

  “You can never be too careful,” Miranda grumbles.

  I’m extra happy to see Drew walk toward us a few minutes later. “Hey everybody!” he calls out, carrying a bottle of wine and a fresh baguette from our favorite bakery.

  Miles jumps up to greet him as they shake hands. “Hey Andrew, glad you could join us. Now I don’t have to spend the night outnumbered.”

  “I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it. This new case has us all tied in knots at the station. But I think we’ve done everything we can for the day. Plus, I didn’t want to miss our first Independence Day celebration together,” he says as he leans in to kiss me.

  Initially, he refused to kiss me until the first case that brought us back together was solved. And yes, I said back together because he once kissed me in high school and then didn’t speak to me again because his parents didn’t want him associating with riff-raff like me.

  I just didn’t know it at the time. I spent 10 years assuming he thought I was a horrible kisser. A decade later, I came back to town bearing a grudge. And deservedly so! And yes, every time we kiss now, my stomach still does flip flops. He’s just that good.

  He’s tall and ridiculously good looking. Maybe too good looking. Gladys fawns over him whenever he’s in Marcall’s, and even Damien and Tom insist on reminding me how sexy he is. It’s absurd, really.

  “Wow, it is our first 4th of July celebration together, isn’t it? Time flies when you’re having fun, I guess,” I wink at him. Of course, I’m having fun. I’m crazy a
bout him.

  Drew grows somber, “Now for the things that aren’t so fun. I should fill you in on what we’ve learned so far because I know if I don’t tell you, you’ll just go out on your own and try to gather the information that way. And I don’t want you interfering again.”

  Miranda and I make exaggerated innocent faces at each other. “Who us?” I ask.

  Drew groans. I know it frustrates him that I keep ending up in these situations, and then I feel compelled to solve them. But I maintain it’s not my fault. The excitement just seems to find me.

  “I don’t want anyone else to hear us, though,” he says, glancing around. “It’s bad enough I’m telling you as it is.”

  I glance at Miranda questioningly, and she nods her head.

  “But I’ve never done this for real,” I protest.

  “Go ahead, you can do it. Just like we practiced earlier.”

  Drew looks at us, confused, as I concentrate on forming an invisible barrier around us. No one can see the barrier, but we can shout as loud as we want inside it, and no one will hear us.

  I explain this to Drew once I’ve formed the barrier, but he wonders how we can know for certain that no one will hear us. Miranda, happy to demonstrate, shouts, “Hey you!” so loudly at a guy walking by that she makes the rest of us jump. But that guy doesn’t even flinch, and neither does anyone else.

  “Well, now that I’ve gone deaf,” Miles says, looking at her with dismay while sticking a finger in one of his ears, wiggling it around.

  I laugh and shake my head. That’s Miranda for you.

  Drew doesn’t waste any time. “First, the coroner estimates the time of death at some time between 11:00 and 11:30 AM. Given that you found her at almost noon, he was able to pinpoint the time to a narrow window.”

  I gulp. I can’t believe I got there shortly after she had been killed. I feel horrible. What if we had been able to interrupt the killer beforehand? She might still be alive right now.

  Drew looks as if he can read my mind, “Don’t do that to yourself, Char. Believe me, it’s a never-ending cycle that you don’t want to put yourself in. You couldn’t have known what was happening, and even if you had been there – who knows, we could have two dead bodies right now.”