“Right. Anything we need from here? A magic whisk? Or an enchanted mixing bowl?”
He tapped on an untitled book underneath the worktop. It looked like a home-bound affair, with hand stitched black leather and pages that seemed handmade too.
I picked it up and instantly, my tension eased a little. I clasped the book tight, pushed up the sconce bracket, and we were on our way.
To my surprise, Cosmo led me to Aunt Violet’s little study, off her bedroom. It had originally been a walk-in closet, but given her penchant for sweatshirts and loose slacks, a simple wardrobe was all she’d needed. She’d removed clothes racks and replaced them with a desk. A lamp with a cat-shaped brass base stood on it. On the shelves that used to hold hat boxes, stood her library notebooks in a neat row.
Cosmo flexed his muscles and stood on his hind legs to bat at one of them.
“Hey,” I protested. “Don’t damage anything.”
He swiped again. A red notebook fell onto the desk and opened at the last entry. It was dated the day before Aunt Violet’s death. Then my gaze fell onto a folded sheet of paper she’d stashed away. It had fluttered out and onto the floor.
I picked it up and read it. Then I read it again. A shiver ran down my spine. I could barely swallow as I sank onto the desk chair. “Is that true? Her neighbor was murdered? And she feels guilty for not preventing it?”
The doorbell rang. I almost jumped out of my skin. Where should I put the note? Why would I even want to hide it? She’d written that she’d already sent a note to that effect to the police. And yet …
“You need to go down and open. It’s Harper, with our stuff. If you don’t move, she’ll worry about you.”
My legs felt like jelly as I dashed down the stairs to let my friend in.
She stood there, with Ange by her side and surrounded by my suitcase and Cosmo’s belongings. The tiny part of my brain not occupied with the fact that my aunt was convinced we had a murderer in our midst noticed that the cat came with more luggage than me. Still, it shouldn’t have taken both of them to haul it up to my doorstep.
Ange held up a bottle of Cherry schnapps. Something was up.
She took me by the elbow and led me gently back inside, leaving Harper to deal with the rest.
I allowed myself to be taken to my new living room. Harper neatly placed the suitcase, basket and boxes against the wall while Ange took three tumblers from Aunt Violet’s drinks cabinet.
“Not those,” I said. “I’m going to give the crystal glasses and the matching carafes to Brenda.”
Ange put the tumblers back and took three plain ones. She poured an inch of schnapps into each of them. “Down the hatch with the hooch.”
After the first burning sensation, the liquid spread a pleasant warmth through my veins.
Ange and Harper shared an ominous look. “Another drink?” Harper asked.
“Not for me,” I said. Together, we plopped onto the sofa.
“It probably sounds crazy, but – well, something’s wrong in town,” Ange said. “Nick received the lab reports for a patient, and they’d accidentally attached another file too. Jake’s results. Nick says there’s no doubt. He was –”
“Murdered,” we said in the same breath.
Harper patted my hand. “Yes. Did you already know?”
“The police visit, the mention of poisonous mushrooms – it didn’t make sense for a man who’d been foraging for sixty-odd years to muddle up his fungi.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell them about the note, at least not yet.
“I can stay with you, if you want me to,” Ange offered. “You’ve had enough bad news lately.”
I glanced at Cosmo who’d padded into the room. He shook his head.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “You’ve already done so much today.”
“Are you sure? And you’re coming to dinner. No excuses.” Ange left the schnapps bottle on the drinks tray.
I followed my girlfriends, to let them out and lock the door behind them. My already confusing new beginning had taken a decided turn for the sinister. Willowmere was no longer a safe haven.
Chapter eight
