Southern Omens (Sweet Tea Witch Mysteries Book 17) Read online

  I shook my head. “I didn’t. I would never do that.” One look at Garrick told me that he didn’t exactly believe me. He stared at the ground, his gaze pinned on Misha’s lifeless body. “You’re not listening to her, are you, Garrick?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, still avoiding looking at me. Finally his gaze lifted and latched on to mine. “For now, we need to clear the area and do an investigation. Axel, you can stay, but everyone else needs to go.”

  I took Axel by the hands. “You believe me, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. I know you didn’t do this, and I know that Betty didn’t, either.” He brushed his lips to my forehead. “Why don’t you head over to Betty’s tonight? I’ll be here late with Garrick. I’ll come by in the morning and get you.”

  Freya snapped. “You have to find out who did this! We will not rest until justice has been served.”

  Her words were directed to Garrick, but she stared at me, her intention quite clear.

  They thought I killed their sister, that I had reworked the death apple spell.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout that I had nothing to do with it, but throwing a hissy fit wouldn’t help anyone. What would was clearing the area, giving Garrick the space he needed.

  My stomach crunched uneasily, but I did as he said, moving to Betty’s side. Freya and Katrina, tears gushing (were they even real?), moved away as well. I watched them, wondering if one of them could have hurt their sister. They were all in on the plan together, and if one person is a bad seed in a family, did that mean there could be more?

  It was Freya who seemed the most angry. When I had heard Misha speaking with her sisters earlier, Katrina appeared worried about the plan, unconvinced it was the right way to go about things.

  Freya was who I needed to look at, especially as she’d pointed the finger at me. Clearly Garrick would see that I was innocent, that I had nothing to do with it.

  But that wasn’t the sense I got from him. The sense I had was that the sheriff believed that I might be carrying guilt. Surely that was just for the benefit of the sisters. I mean, Garrick couldn’t exactly exonerate me in front of them. At least he couldn’t so quickly and easily.

  But the hesitant looks he’d been throwing me didn’t sit well in my belly. My stomach clenched and pretzeled at the weighted glances he’d given.

  Garrick wasn’t on my side of things.

  And what about Betty? She had disappeared for a long time. Had she really been in the bathroom?

  I rubbed my eyes. There was no way that Betty had anything to do with Misha’s murder. I knew my grandmother inside and out. She wasn’t a killer.

  But someone was. Someone had used the death apple as a perfect excuse to get rid of Misha.

  And unfortunately, it looked like I was someone of interest—someone who had a real reason to want Misha gone. Because I loved my grandmother, right? The last thing that I would want was for her to die.

  And I had heard what the sisters said. I knew their plan, so it made sense that I would also want Misha gone. With her out of the way, Freya and Katrina wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. They wouldn’t be able to infiltrate Magnolia Cove the way they had wanted.

  My throat squeezed shut. Y’all, this looked very bad for me, very bad indeed.

  Numbness coated me as I stood on the lawn, watching Garrick and Axel put up a perimeter, cordoning off Misha’s body.

  Betty shuffled over and put a hand on my shoulder. “You okay, kid?”

  I shook my head. “This is a mess. Garrick thinks I did it.”

  Betty’s mouth tipped into a sour frown. “Someone did it, that’s for sure. Misha would never have turned the spell on herself. The question is—did the person know to remove it from me, or did they simply direct the spell at Misha?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Kid,” she said with authority, “in the spelling world everything matters—absolutely everything.”

  Excitement flooded me. “So is there a way to backtrack and trace the spell?”

  My grandmother stroked her chin. “I don’t know, but we’re about to find out.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “So you think there’s a way to reverse engineer the spell?” Cordelia asked skeptically when we’d returned to Betty’s.

  Betty nodded. “I do.”

  Amelia slumped onto the couch. “Haven’t we been here before? Trying to track down a spell. And hasn’t it not worked out for us?”

  “That has happened so many times,” I said. “Remember when Axel didn’t know who I was? We tried the same thing, and it didn’t work out for us.”

  “This is different,” Betty said.

  “I don’t think so,” I replied. “I think we need to go about this the old-fashioned way.”

  “How’s that?” Amelia asked.

  “Figure out who wanted Misha dead,” I replied. “Someone other than myself, I mean. Because clearly I look the most guilty.”

  “I disagree,” Amelia replied. “In my opinion, Betty looks the most guilty.”

  Betty scoffed. “I do not appreciate that.”

  Amelia shrugged. “You don’t have to appreciate it, but it’s true. Don’t get me wrong,” she said fast. “I’m so happy it was Misha who received the death apple and not you. Yet when you look at the facts, you’re the one who had the most to lose. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if Garrick shows up tomorrow with a warrant for your arrest.”

  “Garrick is not going to arrest anyone in my family,” Cordelia said.

  “He will if he has to,” Amelia said. “His duty is to this town, not to you.”

  “Are you trying to upset me?”

  “No.” Amelia shook her head. “I’m only saying what’s true, and the truth is just that. Someone killed Misha, and we’ve got to figure out who before both Pepper and Betty are arrested.”

  “Whoa,” I said. “You just said Betty looks the most guilty. Why’re you dragging me into this?”

  She shrugged. “Because you’re right. You look like you did it, too.”

  “So you think he’d arrest both of us?”

  “I do.” Amelia rose and started pacing. She tapped a finger to her lips and appeared deep in thought, as if she were Sherlock Holmes trying to decipher the facts.

  “Don’t bust a brain cell,” Cordelia snipped.

  Amelia glared at her before returning to her thinking process. “Pepper and Betty could have been in on it—that’s what the facts could present. Together, the two of y’all reversed the spell and sent the apple to Misha.”

  Amelia was only trying to help—wasn’t she? Still, I did my best not to snap at her. “But there’s a hole in your theory.”

  My cousin glanced at me innocently. “What’s the hole?”

  “You forgot that after I heard what Misha said, I fainted. Then when Axel and I tried to find Betty, we couldn’t.”

  “Ah, but you were the one who discovered the body,” Amelia countered. “There was time when no one was around you. So, you could have done it.” She whirled toward Betty. “And you were missing for goodness knows how long, so you could have murdered Misha, too.”

  Betty grunted.

  She brushed her hands, obviously feeling very proud of herself. “So it looks like in the end, either the two of y’all did it together or you committed the crime separately. Either way, I give it until tomorrow morning before Garrick is either bringing both of you in for questioning or he’s arresting you. I don’t know which it’s going to be, but it looks bad.”

  The doorbell rang and I screamed.

  Fear crossed Amelia’s face. “It’s Garrick. He’s come to arrest y’all. You better hide.”

  It was completely irrational, but I seriously considered ducking behind the couch or racing up the stairs. No one would tell Garrick where I was—not even Cordelia. But even though that’s what I wanted to do, instead I faced the door, prepared to accept whatever fate had in store for me.

  Amelia squeezed my shoulder. “You’ll be fine. We’ll figure out who did this, Pepper. Don’t worry. You either, Betty.”

  “Thanks,” Betty grumbled. “You kids are all upset when I’m gonna die, but you sure are sending me down the river fast.”

  Amelia splayed her hand over her chest and gave Betty an innocent look. “I am not interested in sending you anywhere, much less down a river without a paddle.”

  “Hmph,” Betty replied.

  “Y’all all need to calm down,” Cordelia said, gracefully heading toward the door. “Like I said, there’s no evidence that either Pepper or Betty had anything to do with Misha’s death. No one wanted anyone to die. I mean, Pepper might have, given what she discovered about Misha and her sisters, but we didn’t know them.”

  “That’s what I’m saying,” Amelia added. “We didn’t know them well enough to make any real decisions about them. They were so mean to Ignatius that I wouldn’t be surprised if the little kid had Misha offed.”

  The doorbell rang again. We dutifully ignored it. I think that deep down, we knew whoever it was, they were coming for either the pregnant woman or the old lady, and nobody wanted to be the one to answer it.

  Oh, Cordelia stood in front of the door with her fingers brushing the handle, but she wasn’t moving to yank it open.

  Cordelia shot Amelia a skeptical look. “There’s no way it was the kid. I mean, you’re suggesting that he basically has mafia-type connections.”

  Amelia shrugged. “He’s pretty snot-nosed.”

  “I would agree with that,” Betty said. “We never should have hosted Presents Day.”

  I slapped my thighs. “Now you’re finally getting it. The whole thing was a bad idea. Someone died and now Garrick’s outside the door coming to arrest someone.”

  “Not me,” Amelia
gloated.

  A fist pounded the door. “Cordelia, I hear y’all talking in there. Will one of y’all please open the door.”

  It was Garrick.

  She did as he asked and Garrick stepped inside, removing his hat. His boots pounded on the wooden floorboards as he stopped inside the threshold and shifted his weight back and forth.

  “Ladies, I hate to interrupt y’all,” he apologized. “But there’s some business that I need to attend to.”

  Amelia patted my hand. “Don’t you worry, Pepper. We’ll figure out who did this. You too, Betty.”

  “Actually, Amelia,” Garrick said regretfully, “it’s you I’ve come to see. I need you to come down to the station with me.”

  Betty’s eyes sparkled. “Well, Amelia, if that’s not a burn, I don’t know what is.”

  Amelia’s jaw dropped as Garrick continued. “We need to ask you some questions about Misha and her murder. You’ll want to pack a bag because you’ll be spending the night.”

  CHAPTER 10

  A xel came by the next morning, as he had promised, and I told him about Amelia. He was shocked. Garrick hadn’t said a thing to him about her and naturally my husband was worried, but I told him to go on with his day, that I would deal with this.

  “You don’t need to get involved,” he told me.

  Yeah, right. “I won’t,” I cooed. “Everything will be fine. We’re just going to visit.”

  So we packed up and headed over to the jail. Betty brought a basket of breakfast, including a cake.

  Cordelia glanced at the cake. “That doesn’t have a file in it, does it?”

  She referred to back in the old days, when grannies would take jailbirds a file so that they could saw their way through the iron bars.

  Betty scoffed. “Of course not.”

  But when Cordelia was out of earshot, she leaned over to me. “Of course it does.”

  I blanched but said nothing. It wasn’t my prerogative to tell Betty what to do. If she wanted to risk her own liberty by trying to help her granddaughter break out of jail, so be it.

  When we stepped inside the air-conditioned space, it was all too familiar. Unfortunately I had seen the interior of the jail on plenty of occasions—usually when I was visiting my family.

  Garrick greeted us with a wan smile. “Can I look inside that basket you’ve got, Betty?”

  She grudgingly handed it over. “Here you go.”

  He peeked inside, taking a long look at the cake. “Now, Betty. If I cut myself a slice of this, I’m not going to find anything suspicious, will I?”

  Betty sniffed. “Just cut on that left side, there.”

  Garrick smiled sadly and pulled out his pocketknife. He sliced on the right side of the cake. The knife did not go all the way through. He pushed the cake aside and there, plain as freckles on a redhead, sat a steel file.

  He sighed. “Now, Betty, I won’t let you see your granddaughter if you try any more shenanigans.”

  “What am I supposed to do? Let her rot in this jail?” Betty roared.

  “She’s not going to rot—as long as she’s innocent.”

  “Better not,” Cordelia said.

  He waved us off, indicating we could speak to Amelia. She was locked up in the only occupied cell in the jail. When she saw us come over, Amelia rushed to the bars.

  “Garrick says that someone saw me arguing with Misha,” she whispered. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I never even spoke to her. They searched my purse to see if I had any magical potions or things with me that would suggest that I’d killed her, and I think they’re waiting for the results.”

  “Well, the results will prove that you’re innocent,” I said.

  “I hope so,” she grumbled. “I swear that I didn’t do anything. I had not one lick to do with what happened to Misha.”

  She clutched the bars as desperation filled her voice. My heart cracked for my cousin. She was worried, and rightly so.

  “We’ll get you out of here,” Cordelia said with determination, saying the words loud enough for Garrick to hear. “They won’t find any evidence to keep you. I just know it.”

  Garrick glanced up, frustration flashing in his brown eyes. As quickly as the emotion appeared, it vanished as he looked down at the paperwork on his desk.

  Amelia stared openly at Cordelia. “Are you trying to make things worse for me?”

  “No,” my cousin answered. “I’m trying to prove a point.”

  “What’s that? That next time you bring a bigger file?”

  Betty’s cheeks reddened. “It was a good plan.”

  “Yeah, if you’re in a cowboy movie,” Amelia quipped. “But it’s not a good plan here, in Magnolia Cove.”

  “No one would expect a file when we could just use magic,” Betty argued. “It was beyond perfection. It’s just too bad that Garrick’s smart.”

  “I can hear everything you’re saying,” Garrick called out. “Where’d y’all learn to whisper? In the middle of a hailstorm out in the barn?”

  Betty placed her fists on her hips. “That is not funny, young man. When you get to be my age, you won’t be able to hear as well as you used to, either.”

  “I’m sure I won’t.” He flipped through his papers, not bothering to look up. “No more discussion on how to break Amelia out of jail.”

  We were silent for a few moments before the conversation started back up. Cordelia spoke first.

  “We’ll see what we can find out. If anyone else had a reason for wanting Misha dead.”

  “Anyone else?” The words got strangled in Amelia’s throat. Her eyes flared to the point of bugging out. “You want to find out if anyone else had a reason for wanting her dead? I didn’t want her dead to begin with. I didn’t want her dead to second-with. I never wanted her dead. No, I didn’t want Betty dead, either. But that doesn’t mean I killed the woman.”

  Cordelia flicked her hair over one shoulder and dragged her gaze to Garrick. I read her body language easily enough—she was ticked at her boyfriend, really ticked at him.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “We’ll bring lunch back later, if you want, sans nail file.”

  Amelia let her fingers drag down the bars and come to rest limply by her sides. “Okay,” she said weakly. “That’ll be fine. Sherman said he’d stop by in a little bit to keep me company.”

  I reached through the bars and took her hand. Her flesh was cold, clammy. “We’ll get you out of here. We know that you had nothing to do with this.”

  “But why,” she whispered, “would someone set me up? I mean, you and Betty are the obvious choices.”

  “As you’ve already stated,” I said through my teeth.

  Amelia’s face fell at my harsh words.

  “Sorry, I guess I’m just stressed. I didn’t mean it like that, to be so mean.”

  “It’s okay. I deserve it. I was gloating pretty bad last night when we got back.”

  “You sure were, but we still love you, kid.” Betty pressed the sausage biscuit sandwich that we had brought into Amelia’s hands. “There’s milk, too. Eat up, Amelia. You’re gonna need your strength.”

  As soon as we were outside, Cordelia starting sulking. She kept her gaze downcast and folded her arms as she quietly retreated into herself.

  I elbowed her playfully. She didn’t respond.

  Cordelia wasn’t the type of person who liked to discuss her feelings, so to get to the root of whatever was bothering her, often it was best to be gentle.

  “What’s wrong?”

  And then again sometimes I just went for it, like at that moment.

  Cordelia didn’t answer, and Betty started shuffling off in the direction of her cottage. “I’ll be at the house if anyone needs me.”

  Before I could argue and maybe convince her that she shouldn’t be alone, because, well, there was a murderer on the loose, she was speed-walking away as if she had a hot date.

  Alone, I nudged Cordelia again. “What is it?”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “It can’t be that stupid if it made you so upset.”

  She stopped and whirled toward the jail, staring hard. Her hands fell to her sides, slapping against her thighs.

  “I mean, how does he ever think we’ll get married or be together when he arrests my family and throws them in jail.”

  Oh, that was the problem. I had to be delicate in this because I was on Cordelia’s side in not wanting any of our family to be arrested, but I also didn’t think that Garrick would find any proof that Amelia was guilty. Probably within a few hours she would be back at home.