Midnight Spells Murder Read online

  He gave her a smile. His cool blue suit jacket made his teeth look even whiter—if that was possible. A sparkle could show up at the corner of his mouth like in a toothpaste commercial, and she wouldn’t be surprised. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said. “That little incident over Memorial Day? You were the town hero for unmasking the murderer.”

  “That’s an overstatement,” said Zo. Harriet Hobbs, her newspaper editor, had noted more interest in her Happy Camper column after the event, however.

  “Really?” he said. “Why would my boss suggest talking to you then?”

  “Maybe he thinks you need to find inner peace.”

  From the counter, Harley sputtered a laugh.

  Justin glared. “Laugh all you want, but you’re tangled up in this. The entire store is. So is your friend, Julia Parker. I know Roberto is her ex-boyfriend. Don’t think I’m not checking up on that lead next.”

  Zo wondered where he was getting his information. She didn’t even know Jules dated Roberto until last Thursday. How did Justin?

  “When can we sit down for an interview?” he asked.

  The nerve of this guy. “Let me tell you something my first editor told me. Honey attracts more flies than vinegar. If you want an interview, you should try being nice.”

  “My broadcast is number one in the area,” boasted Justin. “I don’t need advice from you.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “No comment, then?” Justin looked pleased with himself.

  “No comment.” After they left, Zo turned to Harley. “I always feel like I need a shower after talking to him.”

  “I don’t know why he’s so popular.” Harley was still glaring at the door.

  “Two words: great hair.” Zo grabbed her vest from the hook in the back room. “I’m going to drop off a few gift cards at the theater. I’ll bring us back lunch. What would you like?”

  “Ooh, a salad from Green Market,” Harley requested. “And you’d better warn Jules about Justin. I have a feeling she’s next on his hit list.”

  “Agreed,” said Zo. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

  Zo started toward the theater. The streets were calm and quiet, a nice change from the busy weekend. The hum from the corner café was the only sound Zo heard as she crossed the street. A crumbly brick building, it didn’t have a sign except Café, and locals called it The Café. This morning, like every morning, folks were filling up on eggs and bacon, pancakes and sausages, and jelly-filled donuts. Crowded with people, it wasn’t a restaurant mentioned on the tour guides. And luckily, too. Its obscurity kept prices low.

  The theater was also noisy, but, unlike the happy humming café, the sound was disruptive. Nikki was arguing with Marianne’s ex-husband. Neither noticed as Zo entered the lobby; the disagreement was that intense. Zo scanned the posters on the wall, not wanting to pass out her gift cards until Jake left.

  “It’s rightfully mine, you blood-sucking thief,” shouted Jake. “The will says so. It’s all there in black and white. Everything belongs to me now.”

  “Marianne was a season subscriber,” said Nikki. “You don’t need a ticket.”

  Jake jutted out his chest, which also expanded the size of his belly. His flannel shirt stretched tightly across his midsection. “You think I’m not smart enough for your shows? Let me tell you something, I’m smarter than you think.”

  When Nikki didn’t respond, the lobby fell silent. Coolheaded, she wasn’t about to let a man like Jake Morgan intimidate her or goad her into a screaming match. After a few minutes, she calmly gestured toward the door. “I’d like you to leave.”

  “You would, would you?” He took another step toward Nikki. “Well I’m not going to.”

  Zo decided it was time to intervene and walked over. She wasn’t going to let Nikki face the bully alone. “Is something wrong?”

  Nikki’s cool eyes never left Jake’s. “Jake was just leaving, before I call the police.”

  “The police don’t scare me.” Jake rocked on his heels. “I got nothing to say to them.”

  Zo pulled out her phone. “They might have something to say to you.”

  “Man, you women are testy,” said Jake. “Forget it. I’ll come back when you’re ready to talk.”

  “Don’t bother,” said Nikki. “Our conversation is over.”

  “That’s what you think,” Jake proclaimed.

  Zo’s eyes followed him out the door. “So that’s Marianne’s ex.”

  “A piece of work, isn’t he?” Nikki smoothed her blond hair, which was tucked into a French twist. “As if I don’t have other things to worry about besides this weekend’s seats. If you ask me, it’s a little premature for him to be taking in a show. His wife of twenty years died four days ago. How can her box seat matter to him right now?”

  Zo agreed. He seemed too excited about his new wealth.

  “Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t come here to hear my problems—or Jake’s,” said Nikki. “How can I help?”

  Zo handed her a gift card to Happy Camper. “My way of saying thanks for giving me the necklace. I also brought a couple for the crew. They told me they found the necklace in the dressing room.”

  “That’s so kind of you.” Nikki’s shoulders relaxed in her well-tailored blazer. Apparently, Jake had made her more tense than she let on. “Have you found out anything else about your birth mom?”

  “Not yet,” said Zo. “At the Halloween party, Hattie mentioned going through old playbills. I think that’s a good idea.”

  “Absolutely,” answered Nikki. “I have a box of them in the basement storage room. I just haven’t gotten that far yet. Later, it might be fun to hang some on the walls or in a display case. Would you like to take a look?”

  “That would be wonderful,” said Zo. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time today. Another day?”

  “Stop by any time,” said Nikki. “Just make sure to wear your old clothes. The place is a mess.” The phone in the will-call booth rang. “I need to grab that. The crew is in there.” She pointed to the theater.

  Zo walked in. The smell of paint told her the group was still working in the balcony, so she took the side stairwell up to the second floor. Sean was fastening new chair cushions. Deep crimson, they matched the theater curtain on the stage below. Like the main floor, the balcony would soon be ready for use.

  “You’re back,” said Sean.

  “I wanted to say thanks for finding my necklace and for your work on renovating the theater.” Zo handed him an envelope. “It looks amazing.”

  He wiped his hands on his jeans before taking the card. “What’s this?”

  “I own Happy Camper,” Zo informed them. “It’s a gift card to the store, just a small token of appreciation. Without work like yours, Spirit Canyon’s history would vanish. Thanks to you and your group, the theater will be here for years to come.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” said Sean. “We feel the same way. That’s why we volunteered.”

  “You’re not getting paid?”

  He shook his head.

  Zo was impressed. “Wow, even more reason for the gift cards.” She scanned the balcony. “Are the others around?”

  “I sent them for more supplies,” said Sean. “I’ll make sure they get them if you leave them with me.”

  Zo gave him the rest of the envelopes. “Tell them thank you, will you?”

  “Sure thing,” he said.

  Zo went down the steps, out the door, and toward Spirits & Spirits with a new zip in her step. It wasn’t the cold air that had her moving quickly. It was the sense of community spirit. This is what she wanted to get into her column, the feeling this time of year brought with it. She needed to do something extra special at Happy Camper. The theater was doing a food drive. Hattie was probably doing a book drive. Zo had done a toy drive l
ast year. What could she do this year? She was still racking her brain when Duncan came up behind her in the Spirits & Spirits parking lot.

  “Come with me, and don’t say a word,” Duncan whispered.

  “Is this a stick-up?” said Zo.

  “No, but I like the way you think,” murmured Duncan. “Follow me.”

  They ducked into the alley behind the store.

  “So what’s this about?” asked Zo.

  “You’re writing a column about giving back for the holidays, right?”

  Maybe Jules had been giving him mind-reading lessons. Zo had considered the article all the way here. “Right. Why?”

  “I’ve been thinking about doing something at Spirits & Spirits,” said Duncan.

  Zo shot him a look. “At Jules’s store.”

  “I came to you first because I knew how Jules would react,” said Duncan. “Just this way.”

  “And I’m supposed to…?”

  “Be more open.” Duncan gave her shoulders a shimmy. “You’re adventurous. Spontaneous.” He quirked a brow. “A risk-taker.”

  Far less handsome men had turned her head with talk of adventure. She needed to move this along. “Okay, tell me your idea.”

  His eyes flickered. They lighted up the drab sky, which had turned steel gray. “A little concert, Sips and Swings. I’ll play the guitar, and Jules will serve the wine. All proceeds for the concert will go to charity.”

  It was a solid notion. But Jules might wonder if it was just another way to promote himself or his guitar lessons. She told him.

  “That’s where you come in,” Duncan answered. “If you say you came up with the idea, she’ll take it more seriously. It won’t sound self-serving.”

  “Is it self-serving?” She noted the scales of justice tattoo on his arm. Maybe he was being honest.

  “No,” said Duncan. “It’s about giving back, to the community.”

  “I have to give you props for not smiling,” said Zo. “You almost had me.”

  “What would it take to convince you?”

  Not much, Zo thought, but she kept that to herself. “How about a reason? Besides the community.”

  “I live here, too, you know.” His face softened. “It’d be nice to be a part of something.”

  At a core level, she understood the need to belong. It wasn’t until she opened Happy Camper that she felt connected to the community. It sounded as if Duncan was searching for a way in, and if she could help him, she would. “All right. I’ll put in a good word for you, but I’m not going to lie. You have to tell her it’s your idea—and no country music.”

  He stuck out his hand. “Agreed.” He frowned. “Your hand is cold as ice. Take my coat.”

  “I’m okay,” said Zo.

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they walked around the corner and into the parking lot of Spirits & Spirits. “Is that better?”

  Was hot chocolate better with peppermint schnapps? Heck yes it was better. Up until the moment Justin Castle’s lackey shoved a camera in their direction, she’d felt like she was wrapped in a warm blanket.

  She kicked herself for not calling Jules right away. She had no idea Justin would show up so soon.

  “Hello again, Zo.” Justin looked between her and Duncan. “I hope we’re not interrupting.”

  Zo shrugged off Duncan’s arm. “Your purpose in life is to interrupt. What do you want?”

  “We’re here to talk to Julia,” said Justin.

  “About what?” Duncan’s eyes had a new hardness to them.

  “That’s none of your business,” argued Justin.

  Duncan didn’t move from the front door of Spirits & Spirits. His arms across his chest, he stood sentinel, blocking the door.

  Until Jules jerked it open. She was dressed in black leather pants that showed off her stunning full figure. “Does someone want to tell me what’s going on? I’ve got a tarot-card reading in ten minutes, and you all are blocking the path.” She looked at Duncan. “You’re late.”

  “Justin is here about Marianne’s death.” Zo sputtered out the words as quickly as possible. “He wants to talk to you.”

  Justin tilted his head. Not a hair moved. “Marianne died under suspicious circumstances. We need to talk.”

  “Let the man through.” Jules held open the door. “If I know anything, it’s suspicious circumstances.”

  Justin paraded past Zo with a smug look on his face. His cameraman followed.

  “What are you doing, inviting him in?” whispered Zo.

  Jules held up a hand, her white shirt sleeve billowing in the breeze. “You have to handle guys like Castle head on. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  Zo hoped so. In her opinion, Jules had a little too much confidence in her otherworldly abilities. Sometimes Zo wondered if she’d convinced herself she was invincible.

  But there was nothing she could do when Jules shut her out. Leaving her and Duncan in the proverbial dust, Jules ducked in the other room, far beyond Zo’s reach or influence. The only thing left to do was bring Harley lunch.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Zo was grateful for the crunchy carrots in her salad. She could chomp on them without saying a word to Harley about the ordeal at Spirits & Spirits. Here she was, trying to save a friend from a headache, and the friend embraced said headache. What was Jules thinking? Zo had no idea, except one—sales. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Justin left with a growler of local brew before the conversation was over. What’s more, Duncan looked miserable watching the two of them disappear behind her consultation curtain. He didn’t have a chance to tell Jules about Sips and Swings, and Zo didn’t have the opportunity to back him up. She stabbed a cucumber.

  “Just so you know, cucumbers aren’t dangerous,” said Harley, pulling her eyes away from the computer. “A broken plastic fork is another matter, however. My friend had to have five stiches because of one.” She returned to the computer screen, eating her salad. “Went clear through the roof of her mouth.”

  Zo scrunched up her face. Harley was a treasure trove of youthful facts. “Ew.”

  Boot heels alerted her to a customer, and Zo put down her fork to greet the newcomer. It was Brady Merrigan. “Officer Merrigan. I’m starting to wonder if I should sign you up for a frequent shopper punch card. The holidays are right around the corner.”

  “It’s the first week of November,” said Brady. “Don’t talk to me about the holidays.”

  “Understood,” said Zo, “but we’ll have to talk about them soon. My column is due Friday, and I need to know what the station is planning for charity.”

  He let out a whistle. “Dag nabbit, I forgot all about it. Let me get back to you.”

  “Before Friday,” reminded Zo. “Thursday at the latest.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He flipped open his notepad. The writing on the page was meticulous, bulleted, and numbered. He obviously cared about his work as much as the town. “But first, I’m here about a restraining order. For one Nicole S. Ainsworth against Mr. Jake Morgan. She said you overheard him harassing her this morning and could corroborate her story?”

  Zo applauded Nikki’s move. It was smart to keep Jake from pestering her at the theater, and he was sure to return another day. He’d said as much before he left. “Yes, I was there. He was very pushy. Belligerent.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about it?” said Brady.

  She reiterated the story. “If you ask me, despite being obnoxious, it’s a little premature. The last thing on his mind should be his ex-wife’s box seat.”

  “Technically it’s his, at least until the end of the year,” said Brady. “Nikki says Marianne renewed it every year for the last five years. She thought of the box as hers.”

  “Don’t you think it’s strange, though, considering everything he’ll acquire?” questioned Zo. “Why bo
ther Nikki about the seat?”

  “She says they never got along when he and Marianne were married. She encouraged Marianne to leave him.” Brady tapped his notebook, perhaps mentally underscoring his decision. “Which makes the visit sound like harassment. He’s rubbing her face in the fact that everything belongs to him now.”

  It made sense. Jake seemed like the kind of person who needed to have the last word. And if he murdered Marianne, it was her last word—and breath. “Does he have an alibi?”

  He shut his notebook with a smile. “Does he have an alibi? You know I can’t discuss the case with you, Zo. But nice try. I admire your determination. It’s served you well over the years.”

  She shrugged. Determination and a little luck went a long way.

  Brady stopped short of opening the door. He turned around with his hand on the knob. “By the way, my brother Patrick told me about the costume party. It was a neighborly thing of you to do.”

  “Don’t mention it,” said Zo. This was as close to a thank you as she would get, but she appreciated it all the same.

  With the touch of his hat, he was gone, like a cowboy in an old western. She went back to her salad, but it had lost its appeal. Tossing it in the trash, she trolled Sunday’s old newspaper, looking for antiques. With the aftermath of Spirit Spooktacular, she hadn’t had the chance to check upcoming auctions. She noticed a collection of first edition Louis L’Amour books. She circled it with her aqua-colored pen. Hattie Fines would want to know about that. Closing the paper, she told Harley she was going to the library.

  Zo considered the library “Hattie’s library.” The little brick building at Main and Juniper was her domain. Hattie managed four book groups, three hobby groups, and children’s story time. If something was going on at the library, chances were she’d had a hand in putting it together.

  This afternoon, however, she wasn’t organizing events. She was arguing with an employee when Zo arrived. Zo hadn’t seen the woman before, and Hattie was really peeved. Zo thumbed through a copy of Time magazine at Hattie’s desk while she waited for them to finish, but it was hard not to overhear bits of their conversation. The newbie was not following directions.