Witch School Dropout: A Witch Squad Cozy Mystery #7 Page 18

  “It can’t be. I mean Vic was the one that got poisoned…” he said. Wiping his fingers with another napkin, he took the phone from my hand to look at the picture more closely.

  I shook my head as some of the pieces began to fall together. “That was because they tried to interlock arms and take a drink, but their arms were too short. They couldn’t do it, so Char fed Mr. Bailey her drink and Mr. Bailey fed Char his!”

  All of my friends’ jaws dropped as they remembered the adorable little incident that had occurred right after I’d taken the picture of them posing happily with their glasses.

  “So the murderer was trying to kill Char and not Mr. Bailey?” asked Jax, stunned.

  “If the poison was in Char’s glass, not Mr. Bailey’s, then yes. That must have been what happened! The murderer hadn’t anticipated them drinking from the wrong glass!”

  Alba threw her head back. “Wow, that just put a whole new spin on this case.”

  I glanced down at Mr. Bailey who had buried his head beneath his paws in my lap. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing either. The poor, poor man.

  “My mind is blown right now,” said Mercy.

  “Mine too,” I agreed. “I couldn’t imagine someone wanting to kill Mr. Bailey, but even more so I can’t imagine someone wanting to kill Char!”

  Mercy looked at me as if I were crazy. “Sweets. Louis has to be the one that did it. Think about it. He has never gotten along with Char. He kills Char so he gets Mr. Bailey’s full attention back. Things would go back to the way they were before he ever met Char. Then he frames you by putting the poison in your apron. That gets both you and Char out of the picture. You heard Mrs. Baylor and Sally. They both said how little Louis has in his life. This actually makes more sense than him trying to kill Mr. Bailey because everyone knew how much he liked him. But Char – they bumped heads.”

  The whole while Mercy spoke, Alba’s head was moving up and down like a bobble head on the dash of a car. “I agree with Red,” she said. “I was having a hard time buying the fact that Louis would kill Mr. Bailey just because he seemed to like him so much, but knowing now that the poison was intended for Char? Makes perfect sense. He and Char didn’t get along at all!”

  Detective Whitman tilted his head to the side and took in a deep breath. “You may be right. What we need is to figure out how Louis could have gotten his hands on the poison. How did he get it? You girls have said it yourselves. Louis doesn’t have magic. So how did he get ahold of it?”

  “Have you learned anymore about the composition of the poison?” I asked. “I might be able to figure it out if I knew where the ingredients came from. Some things we can only get from certain suppliers.”

  “Yeah, I just got the report back this morning. One of the main ingredients in it is a type of snake venom.”

  I sucked in my breath. “Is it from a pit viper?” I asked.

  Detective Whitman looked at me curiously. “Yeah, it is. How did you know that?”

  “Because Mr. Bailey uses the pit viper’s venom for his prevent-a-heart-attack bread. We have that stuff at the bakery,” I said. My mind began to reel. Could Louis have actually killed Char?

  “We’ve got to find out if any of it has been touched,” said Mercy excitedly.

  “Where do you keep it, Sweets?” asked Detective Whitman. “I’ll send my guys over there today and check it out.”

  “In Mr. Bailey’s office. He’s got a cabinet where he keeps some of special potion ingredients.”

  Detective Whitman looked at Mercy. “Can you find Vic’s ghost and ask how much should be in his cabinet?”

  Mercy glanced over at Mr. Bailey. I knew she just wanted to ask him right then and there, but she had to pretend like Mr. Bailey’s ghost wasn’t really inside of a dog. “Oh, yeah, I’ll ask him and get back to you,” she muttered.

  “Thanks.”

  “Alright, well maybe we should go so you can get to checking on that,” suggested Mercy. “We’ll run over to find Mr. Bailey’s ghost. I’ll shoot you a text when he tells me how much should have been in his supply cabinet.”

  “Okay, thanks for all of your help girls.”

  Mercy gave Detective Whitman a tight smile. “We’re not doing this for you, Detective. We’re doing this for Sweets and Char.”

  25

  Upon leaving the police station, we drove to Habernackle’s. The short ride was quiet. We all sat silently absorbed in our shock, trying to make sense of everything we’d just pieced together. Seated at the bar with their backs to us were two white-haired women having coffee. Mom stood behind the bar putting white Styrofoam to-go boxes into an oversized, brown paper sack.

  “Hey Mom,” I said from across the room.

  “Hi sweetheart,” she sang. “Hi girls.”

  “Hey Mrs. H,” said Alba.

  “Hi Aunt Linda,” Jax chirped.

  Holly and Sweets brought up the rear of the group. Sweets carried Mr. Bailey slung over one shoulder. He hadn’t wanted to walk in and be forced to “play” with Chesney again. He was too upset about finding out that someone wanted his wife dead to have to pretend to be a dog. Instead, he pretended to be asleep with his head resting on Sweets’ shoulder and his eyes closed.

  I glanced around the restaurant, which was empty with the exception of the three-aforementioned people. “Where’s Reign?” I asked looking around.

  “In the kitchen.”

  The women seated at the counter swiveled partially in their seats to look at us.

  “What are you two doing here?” I asked my granny and Char. I was surprised to see them there, and suddenly I became a little worried about Char. Should we tell her the new information? Should we not? My stomach did a little flip.

  “Don’t look so surprised, Mercy. We old ladies gotta eat too ya know,” Gran cackled, turning around completely on her barstool to face us.

  “Yeah, I know, I just hadn’t seen hide nor hair of you for the last couple of weeks, and now suddenly you’re everywhere.” I swirled the air around my head with one hand.

  “Char wanted one of your mother’s hot beef sandwiches, and what my friend wants, my friend gets,” she said. Gran narrowed her eyes and peered at me suspiciously. “Why are you making that face? I told you never to make that face. It’s unbecoming. And you know if you make that face too long it’ll stick.”

  I rolled my eyes. She’d been telling me that lie since I was four.

  She peered at me more closely, pulling my face towards hers with her stubby fingers. She smashed my cheeks and then pinched the tops of my cheekbones.

  “Gran! Quit!”

  She patted both sides of my face as if she were a mafiosa and took a step back. “That’s the face you make when you’re up to something.”

  I frowned at her. “I’m not up to anything, Gran.”

  “You are. Don’t lie to your grandmother. You’ve made that face since you were knee high to a grasshopper. Your old gran knows something’s up. What is it?”

  I pressed my lips together, mashing them tightly with my teeth. When I wouldn’t speak, she turned her fiery eyes towards my friends. She pointed her gnarled finger at Alba first. “You. You look like a smart girl. What’s my granddaughter not telling me?”

  Alba blew out a breath of air. “Nothing that any of you need to know,” she said crossing her arms across her chest as if to say you’ll never break me.

  Gran moved down the line to Holly who shifted about uncomfortably in her wedge sandals. “How about you princess?”

  Holly’s eyes worked overtime to avoid eye contact with my grandmother. One of Holly’s fingers wound itself in a lock of blonde hair uncomfortably. “Don’t look at me,” she said with a shrug.

  Jax was next. My stomach churned uneasily. Alba, Holly, and I would be the hardest to break, but Jax and Sweets would roll like a barrel at the top of a hill with a kickstart.

  “You,” she said, pointing that finger at Jax. “You’re a Stone, ain’tcha?”

  Jax’s eyes w
idened.

  “Gran, stop,” I stormed. “Jax is my roommate. You be nice.”

  Gran glanced over at me. “Hush now child. I’m just trying to get to know your friends.” She turned her attention back to Jax. “Sara’s girl?”

  With her lips mashed together too, Jax only nodded.

  Gran pointed her nose at Jax and sniffed the air in front of her. “You a witch?”

  Jax’s shoulders slumped forward, and her eyes darted up to meet mine.

  I gave her the smallest nod I could without Gran seeing.

  “Y-yeah,” she stuttered. It came out less confident than I’d have liked. It came out as a question. I sighed.

  “Well either ya is or ya ain’t,” huffed Gran.

  “Mom,” chided my mother from behind the counter.

  I wondered if my grandmother could truly smell the fact that Jax wasn’t a witch or if my mother had told her.

  I moved myself so that I was standing between Jax and my grandmother. I didn’t need my grandmother harassing Jax. “I said, stop, Gran,” I repeated.

  Gran shrugged, throwing her hands up on either side of her. “Fine, fine,” she said and moved on to Sweets. “Well, I guess you’re the only one that’s left, dear. What are these girls not telling us?”

  Sweets swayed from side to side on her feet. “Nothing,” she trilled, her voice high-pitched and completely telling. We were going to have to work on our poker faces.

  “Nothing, huh?” asked Gran. She curled her finger towards Char. “I bet your boss can get it out of you. Char, ask your employee to tell you what’s going on. Something’s not right. I can feel it in my bones. There’s no fooling this old witch.”

  Char walked towards Sweets. But before she asked her anything, she looked at Regis who was “sleeping” on her shoulder. She patted him gently on the head. “Aww, you girls must be working poor Reg to the bone. Look at him! The poor baby, he’s so tired.”

  Mr. Bailey continued to pinch his eyes shut so he didn’t have to act like a dog for Char’s benefit because surely she’d be able to see the difference in her dear old Regis. I was sure Mr. Bailey had feelings about the fact that his wife was now petting him.

  “Mr. – uh,” she stuttered, her face flushing red at her near slip. “I mean Regis, is, uh - having a good time with us, I think. We’re taking him everywhere we go.”

  “Good, I bet he’s having a good time! He’s a snoopy one, you know. I really appreciate you girls keeping an eye on him. I’ll take him home after the funeral if you don’t mind keeping him until then?”

  I swallowed hard. I only hoped we’d be able to extract Mr. Bailey’s ghost before we had to return him.

  Sweets’ eyes darted towards us. “Oh, yes. That’s no problem.”

  Char patted Sweets’ other shoulder. “Thank you, dear. Now, what is it Sweets? What’s going on? Is there new information about Vic’s death?”

  “I assume Detective Whitman gave you the autopsy results?”

  Char and Gran exchanged glances. Char’s eyes swung downwards before looking back up at Sweets. “Yes, he told us Vic was poisoned,” she admitted. “Is there new information?”

  Sweets’ eyes shifted around the room nervously. “Ohh,” she groaned.

  “Sweets,” purred Char. “You can tell me anything. You know that. What is it?”

  “Don’t tell her Sweets,” said Alba firmly. “Not until we know more.”

  “Yeah Sweets, lips zipped,” I agreed.

  “But…but…girls…she should know!”

  “Know what?” pounced Char. “What should I know?”

  I bit the inside of my lip. Was Sweets going to spill the beans that the killer had actually been after Char, not Mr. Bailey? That would only make Char feel worse about the murder, not better. That nugget of information should be left up to Detective Whitman to share, not us. “Don’t do it, Sweets,” I begged.

  “But maybe she can help!” Sweets shrugged.

  Char nodded. “Yes. Yes. Maybe I can help. What new information do you have?”

  Sweets blew out a breath and closed her eyes.

  This was it. I held my breath.

  “They found pit viper venom in the potion cocktail that killed Mr. Bailey,” she finally rambled.

  I exhaled. My head snapped left. Good job Sweets.

  Char made a face. “Pit viper venom? Like the kind Vic used in his heart attack prevention bread?”

  Sweets nodded. “Yeah. I told Detective Whitman that Mr. Bailey used that to make the bread. He’s sending his guys down to the bakery now to see how much Mr. Bailey had on hand. Mercy’s supposed to find Mr. Bailey’s spirit and ask how much he had on hand before he died so they would know if the venom came from Mr. Bailey’s office or if it came from somewhere else.”

  Gran frowned. “Good luck finding Vic’s ghost. He’d been following Char everywhere, but a day or so ago he disappeared completely. We’re not sure what happened.”

  Char’s eyes were watery, but she fought hard to hold it together. With her late husband’s ghost gone, it was clear she felt she’d lost him all over again. The poor woman.

  I glanced over at Mr. Bailey laying on Sweets’ shoulder with his head resting on his paws, sound asleep. We were going to have to get working on that problem, too. “I’m sure we’ll find him,” I said quietly.

  Char cleared her throat. “Viper venom, huh. Louis had access to Vic’s office, but he doesn’t make potions.”

  “He could have had someone else make it for him,” suggested Gran. “You know, there aren’t a lot of spells that I’m aware of that use pit viper venom. That stuff is dangerous if not used appropriately.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the bar, lost in thought. “Now, there is one spell that comes to mind. It wasn’t a poisoning spell though. But, I suppose if the potion were administered incorrectly, it could prove fatal. Gosh who wrote that spell, was it an Arabella? Annabella? Annabelle? Annabelle! I think it was written by Annabelle Abraham or something like that,” she said, talking more to herself now than us. “I knew of a witch who used to like that spell. It was one of her favorites, in fact. But,” she made a face and then eyed all of us as if she just realized we were in the room. “… oh, never mind,” she said, dismissively swiping the air in front of her face. “It couldn’t be.”

  “What couldn’t be?” I asked, my face heating up. “What do you know?”

  “Oh hey, sis, hey girls,” said Reign coming out of the kitchen carrying two small, square Styrofoam containers. He took one look at the serious expressions on our faces and set the food down. He leaned against the counter. “What’s going on?”

  “Gran just made us tell her some new information, and now she has information but won’t tell us,” I tattled.

  Reign looked at our grandmother. His dark eyes blazed with anger. “That seems to happen a lot, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded and put my hands on my hips and stood with my feet shoulder width apart. “It does seem to happen a lot,” I agreed. “Why is that Gran? Why does everyone have to give you information, and you don’t have to reciprocate?”

  She waved a hand at me. “Oh, you two. Always harping on your old grandmother about one thing or another. Can’t you cut this old witch a break?”

  “Maybe once you’ve told us the truth about what happened all those years ago,” I said unyieldingly.

  “It doesn’t matter. We have more important things to deal with right now. Like helping Char get through these difficult days.”

  “Why won’t you tell us what you know about that spell?” I pressed.

  “Because there’s no way the two are related.”

  “How do you know?” asked Alba.

  “Because I know,” barked Gran. “It just couldn’t be the same person. That person’s not even around anymore! And if they were, I have no idea why they’d want to hurt Vic. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “How about you let us be the judge of that. Tell us what you know,” I said, my eyes bulged as I stared at my
infuriating grandmother.

  Gran slapped a twenty-dollar bill down onto the counter. “Thanks for the food, dear,” she said to my mother. She looked at the girls and me as she grabbed the plastic bag Mom had loaded the food into. “It was so good seeing you all again. We’ve got a lot to do. Come on, Char,” she said, and the two women headed for the door.

  “Bye girls,” said Char with a wave.

  “Bye Char,” said Sweets sadly.

  I looked at the girls. “I think it’s time to see if that spellbook has been returned to the library, don’t you?”

  Alba nodded. “It’s definitely time. Let’s go girls. We’ve got work to do.”

  I could feel my mother’s green eyes following us as we left. She sensed we were up to something, just as my grandmother had. There was no hiding anything from either of them.

  26

  Running up the spiral staircase for the third time that week, my legs began to burn. I was glad we’d decided to leave Mr. Bailey in our dorm room. There’s no way his short little legs would have made it all the way to the top floor, and there was no way I was going to carry the extra weight up the stairs either.

  “Ugh,” groaned Holly as she struggled to pull herself up the remaining stairs. “We have done these stairs entirely too many times this week.”

  Jax giggled as she sprinted past Holly. “Maybe if you worked out more you’d be in better shape.”

  Holly rolled her eyes. “I don’t work out because the first place I lose weight is in my boobs.” She looked down at her chest. “And I happen to enjoy the girls’ company.”

  “So do ninety-five percent of the boys on campus,” said Alba with a laugh as she ran past, taking the stairs two at a time.

  “Ugh, Alba!” muttered Holly, kicking it into high gear.

  Clara was waiting for us at the top of the stairs. “You’re back!” she said with a smile. “If I could always have so much company!”

  “We came to see if that missing book has been returned,” said Alba.