A Witchy Valentine (Harper Grant Mystery Series Book 4) Read online

  I thanked him for his time and left the hardware store, shivering as I stepped out onto the street.

  “Well, he wasn’t exactly a wealth of information,” Monty commented.

  I had to agree. I was getting nowhere fast with this investigation.

  But, that was only one suspect down. I still had another three people to question. Barbara, Laura and John Gastineau. If they didn’t reveal any clues, I supposed I could try to track down the people who had played the French soldiers, on John’s side, in the re-enactment.”

  Finding Monty’s killer was turning out to be a lot more work than I’d envisaged.

  Chapter 13

  We headed to see Barbara next. She worked at Cherrytown’s stables, which was half a mile out of town, along a narrow road.

  As we pulled up on the side of the road next to the stables, I smiled. Even in February, it was a pretty sight. There was an old brick cottage nestled in the middle of a lawn dotted with early purple crocuses. The traditionally built stables were only a short distance away behind the cottage. I’d never visited before, but Jess had taken some riding lessons here shortly after we’d moved to Abbott Cove.

  It was a large stable, and besides riding instructors giving lessons, they also cared for and housed horses for people who didn’t have enough land of their own to do so.

  I had no idea how many horses they had at the stables, but I could see a couple in the closest exercise yard, along with two riding instructors. A small girl of eight or so was sitting on a pony, being led in a slow circle by an instructor. She was having a great time, and her laughter drifted over to us.

  I walked past the cottage, toward the stables, avoiding the puddles of mushy snow on the ground.

  Monty drifted along behind me. “Barbara works with the animals,” he said. “She’s not really a people person.”

  That didn’t surprise me in the least.

  When we reached the stables, I walked along them slowly, peering into each one.

  Most of them were empty and clean, but as we approached the end of the first row, I spied a beautiful, dappled gray mare. Her head poked out over the stable door, and she snorted as we drew closer. I wondered if she could sense Monty, or whether she associated visitors like me with sugar lumps and treats.

  I reached up to stroke her soft muzzle and then jumped when I heard a stern female voice say, “Who are you?”

  I whirled around and saw Barbara standing close to me.

  She wore jodhpurs, a body warmer and a thick woolen sweater. Her skin was tanned from working outside, and her cheeks were ruddy from the cold. She ran a hand through her cropped, light brown hair.

  “I’m Harper,” I said. “Maybe you remember me from this morning?”

  She looked at me through narrowed eyes, and I shifted uncomfortably. She certainly had an unnerving stare.

  “Oh, yes,” she said but didn’t smile. “I remember. What are you doing here?”

  “I wondered if you had time for a chat,” I said.

  She looked me up and down critically and said, “Not really. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  I must’ve looked so crestfallen that she felt sorry for me. “Okay, I can give you five minutes but only if you help me muck out the stable. The broom is over there.” She opened the stable door and pointed to the far corner where a broom was propped up against the wall.

  “Okay,” I said following her into the stable. I couldn’t help reaching out to stroke the pretty, gray mare again. “She’s gorgeous,” I said.

  “She’s injured,” Barbara said bluntly. “Apart from twenty minutes’ exercise three times a day, she needs to be rested. She had something stuck in her hoof. The vet treated it, but it will be some time before she is back to her normal self, won’t it, girl?” Barbara tugged softly on the horse’s mane, and the horse responded by resting its head on Barbara’s shoulder as a sign of affection.

  Barbara’s stern tone softened as she looked at the horse, and I could see she did love animals. I guessed she couldn’t be all bad.

  I grabbed the broom and began to sweep out the dirty straw lining the floor of the stable.

  “So, what did you want to talk about?” Barbara asked coming quickly to the point.

  “Do you know who killed Monty?” I asked.

  I thought as Barbara was a direct and to the point person, she would appreciate a direct question.

  Barbara frowned. “I think that’s a matter for the police department.”

  “I’m asking because I’m worried. If there is some lunatic on the loose, he could target us next.”

  Barbara didn’t seem in the least worried. “Why would he do that? It makes no sense.”

  “Maybe one of us saw something at the re-enactment or noticed something odd that didn’t seem significant at the time,” I suggested.

  Barbara paused her sweeping and frowned at me. “I didn’t notice anything odd. Not until Monty collapsed anyway. That was odd, of course.”

  “Have you been questioned by the police yet?”

  Barbara shook her head. “No, but I’m sure they’ll be coming to see me soon. Have you?”

  “Not really. I spoke to Deputy McGrady from Abbot Cove earlier, but other than the questions they asked us at the scene, I haven’t heard anything.”

  “Well, I’m sure we’ll hear all about it once they catch the killer.”

  “I suppose you’re right. How long did you know Monty?”

  “I met him shortly after he arrived in Cherrytown.”

  “Did you like him?”

  “He was all right. I prefer animals to humans most of the time. There’s no nasty side to animals. What you see, is what you get.” She reached out to pat the mare on its flank.

  I sighed. It didn’t look as though Barbara had any pertinent information to share either. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so impatient.

  Chief Wickham and Deputy McGrady might solve the case quickly on their own. I couldn’t imagine Officer Tardy being much help, but I supposed I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. He could be a crime solving genius deep down.

  I’d intended to question everybody today because I had a shift at the diner tomorrow. I wanted Monty to feel reassured that I was putting in the effort to help him.

  I smiled at Monty, who was hovering outside the stables, watching us eagerly. He had so much faith in me, and I was starting to think it was misplaced.

  Sure, I’d managed to solve a couple of mysteries in my time, but that had been largely down to luck. Maybe I wasn’t up to the job.

  I decided I would finish helping clear out this stable and then move on and try to talk to Laura or John if I could find them. When Barbara and I had almost finished, I heard a familiar voice outside the stables.

  I dropped the broom, and it clattered on the floor.

  Barbara looked up sharply, frowning, “What did you do that for?”

  I didn’t answer but instead peered out over the stable door.

  Walking directly towards our stable, were Chief Wickham and Deputy Joe McGrady.

  “Oh, no.”

  In ten seconds, I was going to have to try to explain what I was doing here, and I was sure whichever excuse I made up on the spot, it wouldn’t be convincing enough.

  Barbara joined me by the stable door. “What’s wrong? It’s just the police. They’re obviously here to question me about this morning again. They’ll probably want to talk to you, too.”

  I quickly shook my head and tried to explain to Barbara. “You don’t understand. They’ll be furious if they find me here. They have some crazy idea that I’m interfering in their investigation. Please just let me hide here and don’t let them see me.”

  Barbara frowned at me and shook her head. “I shouldn’t be hiding you from the law.”

  “Oh, please,” I begged. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just naturally inquisitive. I can’t help it.”

  Barbara paused for a moment and then sighed and said, “Stay in her
e and keep quiet.”

  Barbara stepped outside, shutting the stable door behind her, and I crouched down beside the gray mare, hoping nothing spooked her while I was in such a precarious position. I didn’t get too close to her back legs just in case.

  I figured from my position I would be able to overhear the conversation, and with a little luck, I might learn more about the case.

  “Good afternoon, Chief, Deputy,” Barbara said.

  “I hope you can spare us a few moments, ma’am,” Chief Wickham said.

  I crouched down low in the stable.

  Please, please, please, don’t let him find me here.

  “Is this about this morning?” Barbara asked, sounding even more stilted than usual.

  I frowned. Of course, it was about this morning. Why else would they be here?

  “First, I’d like you to describe what happened this morning in your own words,” Joe McGrady said.

  I listened closely to Barbara’s description of what had happened at the battle re-enactment, but nothing stood out for me. She had seen the same thing as me and hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

  “Do you know if Monty had any enemies, or if he’d upset anyone recently?” the chief asked.

  “I think he parked in Enid Travis’s parking space outside the Italian restaurant last week. She was quite unhappy about that.”

  Chief Wickham sighed. “Enid is eighty-two and a regular churchgoer, She is highly unlikely to have killed Monty. Did he have a row with anyone else?”

  “Not that I know of,” Barbara said, sounding bored with the conversation.

  They must have moved a little further from the stables because their voices grew quieter, and I had to strain to hear them.

  I shuffled closer to the gray mare, and unfortunately, Monty chose that moment to zoom into the stable. I guess horses could sense the presence of ghosts because the pretty gray mare let out a tremendous whinny and raised her front legs before stamping them down.

  I pushed myself back against the stable wall to avoid getting trampled and glared at Monty.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think. Barbara doesn’t sound like she’s got any information that will help us.”

  I jerked my thumb, indicating that Monty should go outside so he could listen in on their conversation, but he didn’t get the message.

  Then I heard Chief Wickham say, “Is something spooking that horse?”

  I heard his footsteps crunch on the gravel right beside the door and froze.

  Monty’s eyes widened as he stared outside. “Oh, sorry Harper, I think he is coming into the stable.”

  I held my breath and then heard Barbara say, “Don’t worry about her. The horse is a little temperamental. She’s always doing that for no reason.”

  Chief Wickham’s footsteps retreated, and I breathed freely again.

  “Thank you, Barbara. Thank you,” I murmured.

  But I couldn’t hear their conversation now.

  I whispered as quietly as I could to Monty, “Get out there and listen to what they are talking about.”

  “Ah! Of course, sorry.”

  He zoomed off and thankfully didn’t spook the mare this time.

  I’d been crouching for so long, I was starting to get a cramp in my leg. I shuffled awkwardly, trying to get rid of it, and that attracted the horse’s attention. The gray mare decided to come over and see what I was doing.

  I tried to push her away gently as she crowded me, but that didn’t work. She obviously found the twitching, squirming woman on the floor of her stable very interesting. I guess it wasn’t every day she had someone hiding from the law in her stable.

  I heard the voices grow louder again and immediately stopped moving.

  “Well, thank you for your help,” Joe McGrady said.

  “No problem,” Barbara said. “Do you have any idea who did it yet?”

  I leaned closer, desperate to hear Joe’s reply. But then to my horror, the gray mare shifted around, so her backside was facing me. I saw her tail lift slightly and knew what was coming next.

  I slapped a hand over my mouth and smothered a groan as the horse decided this was a perfect time and place to go to the toilet.

  I gagged a little and tried to tell myself at least it was fresh. A lump of straw-scattered poop landed right beside my leg. I scooted away, trying not to make any noise.

  Shallow breaths, Harper. Shallow breaths, I told myself.

  “We have a number of leads that we’re following up,” Joe said, giving Barbara a stock answer that really told us nothing.

  I gritted my teeth and wished they would hurry up and leave.

  It was probably only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity before they left, and Barbara opened the door to the stable.

  I staggered outside, taking deep breaths of fresh air.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Barbara asked.

  I pointed at the gray mare accusingly. “She went to the toilet right in front of me.”

  I looked down at my coat, brushing off bits of debris, and hoped I didn’t have anything smellier than straw stuck on my coat.

  Barbara smirked. “Nothing wrong with a bit of fresh horse manure.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. I was only inches away from the horse’s butt.”

  I wafted a hand in front of my face, sure I could still smell the poop.

  A smile spread across Barbara’s usually stern face, and she started to laugh. I’d never even seen her smile before.

  Monty joined in. “You have to admit, Harper, it was quite funny.”

  I glared at them both, treating them to my best death stare. Unfortunately, that only made them laugh harder.

  Chapter 14

  We took the car back into town, and I told Monty I thought it would be a good idea to try and speak to Laura again. Because there must have been a reason she couldn’t get away fast enough when I had cornered her in the hardware store. My instincts told me both she and Nigel were hiding something. Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with Monty’s murder, but I couldn’t rest easy until I found out what was making her so jumpy.

  Monty went along happily with my plan. He really was the easiest ghost I’d had to work with so far.

  It must have been such a shock to realize he was a ghost, and it can’t have been an easy adjustment over the last few hours. Despite that, he was polite and sweet, and that motivated me to try even harder to help him.

  Monty told me that Laura worked in the hair and beauty salon in Cherrytown. It was owned by a woman called Molly Cutler and was the hub of gossip in Cherrytown.

  As Monty didn’t know Laura’s home address, I figured we would start at the salon. And if what Monty said was true and the salon was a hive of gossiping women, maybe we could gather some information that way, too.

  I parked just off Main Street and walked the short distance to the salon.

  The salon sign hanging above the window was bright pink and printed with swirling, white letters, indicating it was The Cherrytown Salon. I was starting to think they didn’t put a lot of thought into their signs. They weren’t into gimmicks, that was for sure. Direct and bland must have been the Cherrytown motto.

  The salon frontage had a smaller window than the hardware store, but even from outside, I could see it was busy. There was a line of women with their heads beneath large dryers. Another woman sat alone on a stool, flicking through a magazine, waiting her turn.

  I pushed open the door and almost crashed into a small table where a middle-aged woman with curly hair was painting a client’s nails a brilliant shade of fuchsia.

  The warmth of five driers and the smell of perming lotion hit me immediately.

  “Oh, I am sorry,” I said as I closed the door, glad to see I hadn’t done any permanent damage.

  “Not a problem, sweetheart. What can I do for you? Are you looking for an appointment? Hair or nails?”

  I detected a slight southern accent and wondered where she was from originally.
r />   “Oh, no, sorry. I was actually hoping to speak to Laura. Is she here?”

  The woman shook her head. “No, haven’t you heard? There was a murder this morning, and poor Laura was there when it happened. She is really shaken up and couldn’t come into work this afternoon.”

  Shoot. There went my plan to unearth Laura’s secrets. “Oh, I did hear about it actually. I was there this morning, too, and I wanted to ask Laura a couple of questions about it,” I admitted. “I don’t suppose you could give me her home address?”

  As soon as I had mentioned the fact that I was at the scene of the murder that morning, a dozen pairs of eyes turned to look at me.

  A woman at the back getting her hair dried shouted out, “Molly, can you turn this infernal dryer off. I can’t hear what she’s saying.”

  I smothered a smile. The women at the salon weren’t even trying to pretend they weren’t listening in on our conversation. At least, they were honest about their curiosity.

  Molly finished painting the last nail of the woman in front of her and put the lid on the polish. “You’re not done yet, Mrs Clarkson,” Molly said looking pointedly at the woman who’d yelled out. Then she turned back to me.

  “I’m Molly Cutler, Laura works for me, but I don’t feel comfortable giving out her home address. I’m sure you don’t mean any harm, but I won’t do it without her permission.”

  My shoulders slumped. I couldn’t catch a break.

  Seeing my disappointment, Molly sighed. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give her a call now, and if she gives me permission, I’ll tell you her home address. How’s that?”

  “That would be very kind. Thank you.”

  I turned around and smiled at Monty. He was hovering by the door, looking a little afraid to move further inside the pink, women-only domain.

  Molly nodded and walked out to the back of the salon. While I waited, I took a look around. I guessed Molly must have a thing for pink. Everything was pink. The hairdryers, hairbrushes and combs, the walls and even the frilly curtains hung in the window.