Susan and Andy were on top of things, but it was all too confusing for straightforward answers. Ish had an alibi. Mr. Butler had an alibi, albeit a strange one. Susan, of course, didn’t do it, and Andy was looking for people who’d seen her out and about just to cross the Ts and dot the Is ofheralibi. It almost had to be Henrietta. Except she claimed to have been at Disney, and I’d been positive that she was shocked to hear that Cordelia was dead.
After I coaxed Lou out of the closet, I rushed to work. Eleanor was off for the morning, and I would make it there just in time to open the shop at nine. I hated to be late. If an early customer came by and we weren’t open, it made a poor impression. Maybe they wouldn’t come back. I worried about things like this on days when I didn’t encounter dangerous artifacts, murderers, and criminally inclined breakfast guests.
Luckily, I was the first one there. When I unlocked the door to the shop, a strong leafy smell wafted out at me.
“What in the world?”
It was the zucchini plant. The thing had grown again. Now it was as big as a full-sized refrigerator, and it was glossy green and bursting with full-grown zucchinis. So many zucchinis.
“This doesn’t work for me,” I grumbled, pulling out my phone. I called the nursery and got voicemail.
“Ollie? This is Tess Callahan. Please call me back as soon as possible. This zucchini plant you dumped on me, er … so nicely gave me, is out of control. I need you to come over and take it back. Preferably today. This morning, even. Call me. Thanks.”
I sighed, put my purse in the drawer behind the counter, picked up a pair of hedge clippers from the gardening section, and set to work. Twenty minutes later, I put a pile of cut-up plant outside the back door in the trash bins and then went back in and sorted the hundred or so zucchinis I’d harvested into several tote bags to give away. Free zucchini with purchase sounded about right.
Ollie had better call me back quickly. I’d tried to move the whole plant outside, but it was way too heavy for me to lift or even drag. After closing time, I’d cut up some more and see what I could do if Ollie didn’t stop by.
The morning flew by. Lots of people stopped in just because they were being nosy and wanted to hear about Cordelia. I shrugged and said vague things like “how terrible it must be for Susan,” and “I’m sure Andy and Susan will discover what happened,” and “free zucchinis with any purchase!”
After a while, I started giving away the zucchinis, whether people made a purchase or not.
When I had a temporary lull at ten-thirty, I put on a pair of rubber gloves and then a pair of gardening gloves over that and took the crystal ball down off the shelf where it had sat, hidden beneath a cloth, since Monday. I started to take it to the vault, but my steps slowed as I thought about it.
I stored everything valuable that still belonged to pawn customers in that vault. At least a few of the objects were magic-infused. Did I really want to put this Eeyore ball with its negative energy and, possibly, actual dark magic in the same vault? Would it infect the other items?
I decided not to take the chance. I didn’t want the thing out front in the shop, either, though, where it could broadcast its unpleasant predictions. I put it on the counter next to the sink in the back room, pulled an old saltshaker out of the cupboard, and poured an unbroken line of salt around the ball.
When I started pouring the salt, the mist inside the ball started frantically swirling, as if the crystal ball didn’t want to be caged.
“Too bad, buddy,” I said, and then felt silly for talking to a lump of quartz. “You brought this on yourself. I’ll take you to Susan’s as soon as I can.”
When I finished the circle and then went around a second time, just to be safe, I was hoping the ball would go inert and the mist would vanish. No such luck. Instead, letters started forming on the inside of the ball. I snatched a dish towel from the drawer and tossed it over the ball before it got any further than YOU WILL …
I didn’t want to know what the Eeyore ball thought I would do. Not now, not ever. And I really needed to get rid of the thing before it made me dislike Winnie the Pooh, one of my favorite characters from childhood. Humming the Pooh bear theme song, I headed back out to the shop just in time for more gossips, er, customers, to arrive.
“I’m sure Susan and Andy will discover the truth,” I said for the dozenth time an hour later, wrapping up a purchase. “Enjoy your zucchini!”
I checked my phone and saw I’d missed a call. It was from Susan, not Jack. I told myself he’d call me as soon as he could, and then I called the sheriff back, since the shop was temporarily empty.
“What’s up?”
“Hey, Tess. I wanted you to know that we have no sign of Henrietta yet, but we’ll find her. Especially since she plans to hang out and come after Ish. Are you absolutely sure she didn’t know about Cordelia? She could have been pretending, so you’d think she was innocent.”
“I thought about that. But she was truly shocked, or she’s in the wrong business and should be an actress.”
“Well—”
“Right. Sociopaths are brilliant liars. I don’t know, Susan. I just don’t know. I thought she was telling the truth, but I tend to believe people. I wish I knew. If she was really at Disney, she should be able to prove it, right? Cameras and such?”
“If she really went to Disney, she’d be giving me details and receipts,” Susan said, skepticism sharp in her voice. “We’ll find her. It has to be her, doesn’t it? Who else would have wanted to kill my poor aunt?”
I didn’t say that there could be quite a few people who wanted to hurt Cordelia, given her life of crime and, if Henrietta was to be believed, her habit of betraying people. But imaginary suspects didn’t help the situation. Susan and Andy had to work with what they had in front of them, and all signs led to Henrietta Quirksley.
A tiny part of my mind wondered about that odd phone call. Who would have known to call Mr. Butler with a fake report of Susan being in an accident, just to get him out of the way? In a way, though, that thought led back to Henrietta. She clearly knew everything about everybody and knew how to do her research. How hard could it be to set up a fake phone call from a fake 800 number?
I sighed and pushed it all out of my mind, glad that I wasn’t the one who had to figure it out. “I don’t know, Susan. I’m just sorry you have to deal with this.”
“Thanks, Tess.” She told me that the expert another sheriff had recommended had been and gone early that morning. He’d cast a temporary neutralizing spell on the artifacts that should protect Susan and anybody else in the house from their negative energy for at least a little while until she could find a more permanent way to get rid of them.
