Poetry in Potion Read online

  “What kind of potion?” I pressed. “How does it connect to Louisa?”

  “She was a potion teller, duh,” Britta said. “Plus, she foretold Cronk’s death. You were there, according to Louisa.”

  I maintained a calm demeanor and tried again. “Britta, what kind of potion? Is it even a type that Louisa has in her inventory?”

  The Valkyrie gave me a blank look. “I guess so. She has, like, a hundred bottles in her stall. All the colors.”

  So Louisa’s murder charge seemed to be hinging on ‘I guess so.’ Wonderful.

  “Would it be possible for me to bring Louisa to my office to interview her?” I asked. “Josie is there and it would just be more comfortable for me to sit in my chair, especially since Althea added extra cushions to it.”

  Britta rubbed her cheek. “I don't know. I mean, murder is kind of serious, right? What if she kills you in your office and escapes?”

  “Althea is there, too,” I reasoned. “And I have Tiffany for protection. You’re welcome to accompany us, if you like. But you’d have to stand outside the door and wait for her. Our conversation is confidential.”

  Britta glanced down the hallway. “You can use the conference room here.” She quickly punched her forehead. “Wait, no you can’t. Stan’s been using it because of the extra paperwork in connection to the market.”

  I tapped my foot on the floor. “Please, Britta. I can feel my feet swelling the longer I stand here.”

  Britta scrutinized my belly. “That’s not the only thing that’s swelling.” She threw out her hands in acquiescence. “You’re lucky I like you, Hart. Meet me out front. I’ll bring the prisoner.”

  “Louisa,” I corrected her. “Louisa Loomis is her name.”

  “Fine, I’ll bring the murder suspect Loomis out to you. Judging by the rate you walk, I’ll probably lap you.”

  I rolled my eyes and headed back toward the lobby. Paisley was still at the counter polishing off the last of the noodles. She smiled when she saw me.

  “Thanks for that,” she said. “I was finally able to eat something. Britta is a warrior even when it comes to the battle of the noodles. I swear I’ve lost ten pounds since we started dating.”

  As promised, Britta and Louisa were hot on my chunky heels. “I’ll drive us,” Britta said. “Official business and all. Hart, you’ll have to push the passenger seat all the way back or you won’t fit.”

  “Britta!” Paisley said.

  Britta’s expression was pure innocence. “What? She literally won’t fit.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. The truth was that I took no offense. Britta was simply being Britta. The Valkyrie didn’t have a mean bone in her body, just a few awkward ones.

  “How are you, Louisa?” I asked, as we approached the deputy’s jalopy. Although it was a short drive, I appreciated the weight off my feet.

  “I’ve certainly been better,” Louisa said.

  “I guess you didn’t see your arrest in one of those potions of yours,” Britta said.

  Louisa rolled her eyes. “Gee, that’s the first time I’ve heard that one. Clever.”

  Britta chuckled to herself. “I know, right? Sometimes I wonder how I come up with these things.”

  I maneuvered my body into the seat and closed the door. “I bet this is a little different from any police experience you’ve had elsewhere,” I said to Louisa.

  She shrugged. “This is my first time involved in a police matter. I’ve never even had a speeding ticket.”

  “It’s true,” Britta said. “We were able to check her records. It’s pretty cool to be able to check other systems for criminal history. One of the perks of being connected to the outside world now.”

  “Well, there wasn’t a need before,” I said. “It would have been nearly impossible for anyone to have outside criminal activity.” With a few exceptions, of course. Residents like Daniel had lived prior to the curse and had amassed a long history, whereas others were born and raised within the confines of Spellbound. In fact, it was Raisa’s criminal history that was the reason the town had been cursed in the first place.

  We arrived at my office door and Britta pulled the car curbside. “I’ll wait out front. I might issue a few parking tickets if I get bored, but otherwise just let me know when you’re done and I’ll bring her back.”

  “Thanks,” I said. It took me a few tries to extricate myself from the car, but I managed. I opened the door and noticed someone already in my office. “Hey, Josie.” I frowned. “What are you doing?”

  Josie McGill stood in front of the bookcase and appeared to be rearranging items. The wererat had been hired to replace me while I was out on maternity leave, so I’d reluctantly agreed to let her shadow me until the birth. It was vaguely annoying to have someone looking over my shoulder at the time. I had enough of that at home with Gareth.

  “Oh, I hope you don’t mind,” Josie said. “These were out of alphabetical order. I also added a few books that might come in handy. I was surprised to see you were missing a couple of critical volumes.”

  I sauntered past her and dropped into my cushioned chair. “I wasn’t responsible for inventory,” I said. “If you recall, I was kind of thrown into the deep end here. I was originally a different kind of lawyer in the human world.”

  Her lips curved into a faint smile. “Of course. How could I forget? You weren’t trained for this at all, were you?”

  I bristled. “I wouldn’t say at all. I did go to law school and practiced as a lawyer, just not this kind of lawyer and not in a paranormal town. The rules are different here.” I inclined my head toward Louisa. “Today, I’ll be interviewing Louisa Loomis. She’s been accused of murder.”

  Josie clapped her hands, practically giddy. “Oh, how wonderful. A murder charge.”

  I shook my head. “No, Josie. Not wonderful. Someone died.”

  “And I’m being wrongfully accused,” Louisa added.

  Josie dropped her gaze. “Apologies. It’s just that I’ve never been involved in such a serious matter. It’ll be excellent training for me.”

  “Yes, because it’s all about you.” I picked up my pen, prepared to take notes. Part of me missed the elegant scrawl of the quill, but it was nice to have access to regular ink again. I pointed my pen at the chair beside Louisa’s. “Sit and observe, please.”

  Josie dutifully sat and mimed zipping her lip. I shifted my focus to my client. “I don’t have a file yet, so I’m not sure what evidence Sheriff Astrid has, other than a potion killed Claire.”

  “You mean aside from the fact that the defendant told the victim she was going to die?” Josie interjected.

  I glared at her and she immediately averted her gaze. “The questions are being asked of Louisa.”

  “Claire and I didn’t like each other,” Louisa admitted. “She would watch over my shoulder when I gave readings and criticize me.”

  “Yes, I witnessed that firsthand, remember?” I asked. “Any idea why she picked on you like that?”

  “Because she was awful?” Louisa offered, somewhat unhelpfully.

  “You don’t have a specific history with her?” I asked. “Nothing happened between you to draw her ire?”

  “I never did anything to her,” Louisa said. “She was just miserable all the time. I had the misfortune to be placed next to her more often than I’d like.”

  “So she bullied you?” I pressed.

  “There’s your motive,” Josie said.

  I rubbed my temples. “We’re not trying to prove her motive, Josie. That’s Rochester’s job.” As the prosecutor, the wizard Rochester would be trying to prove Louisa’s guilt.

  “I’m just playing devil’s advocate,” Josie sniffed.

  “I don’t need a devil’s advocate, but thanks,” I said.

  The adjoining door opened and Althea stepped into the room. Her snakes writhed and hissed beneath her headscarf. “I thought I heard voices.”

  “Hi, Althea,” I greeted my Gorgon assistant. “This is Louisa Loomis, our client.”

  “I heard about what happened at the market,” Althea said. “It must have been so upsetting for you.”

  Louisa fidgeted in her seat. “This hasn’t been my best day, I’ll say that much.”

  “It can’t have been that upsetting,” Josie said. “I mean she saw the victim’s death in her potion.”

  “Did you see you’d be arrested for it?” Althea asked.

  Louisa shook her head mutely. She seemed to be holding something back and, for the first time, it occurred to me that she could actually be guilty.

  I turned to Althea. “Would you mind getting a drink for Ms. Loomis?”

  “Coffee?” Althea offered. “I can order from Brew-Ha-Ha. They deliver now.”

  Louisa perked up. “A thistledown latte with a dash of hope would be great.”

  “Done,” Althea said. She gave me a look. “No caffeine for you, little momma.”

  Josie held up a finger. “I’ll have a….”

  “Coffee. Black, like your soul,” Althea said. “Got it.”

  I shot my assistant a quizzical look. It seemed we’d need to have a conversation later.

  “And two sugars, please,” Josie called sweetly as Althea returned to her own office.

  “Josie, would you mind going outside and asking Britta if she’d like a drink, too?” I said.

  “Can’t Althea do it?”

  I gave her a pointed look. “Did I ask Althea?”

  Reluctantly, she vacated her chair and went out the front door. As soon as I heard the click, I aimed Tiffany at the door and said, “Ignore the calls, she’s Facebook blocked/secure this door so it stays locked.”

  “You have a wand,” Louisa said, surprised. “Aren’t you a sorceress?”

  “It’s a long story.” I set aside the wand. “I have to be honest, Louisa. You’re holding back information and I’d like to know what it is.”

  Louisa squinted at me. “Are you psychic?”

  It struck me that she didn’t say too. “Louisa, are you psychic?” She had to be. She was a potion teller. She predicted Claire’s death. She told me about my baby, not that I could prove her right yet.

  Louisa inhaled deeply. “No.”

  My stomach plummeted. “Not even a little bit?”

  Louisa covered her face with her hands. “No,” came her muffled reply.

  Spell’s bells. This made things worse. If Louisa only pretended to predict Claire's death, that would make it seem like she did it on purpose, as a threat that she later carried out.

  “You didn’t see anything in the potions about my baby at all?”

  “I’m sorry,” Louisa said. “I’ll refund your money, I promise.”

  “Why do you pretend to read fortunes in potions?” I asked.

  “Why else? Because it pays the bills,” Louisa replied. “I used to work in the accounting office of a car dealership, but I got laid off a couple of years ago.”

  I studied her. “And how does one go from an accounting office to a fake fortune telling scheme?”

  “I always wanted to travel,” Louisa said. “As a potion teller, I get to set up a stall wherever there’s a market for my services. It’s a win-win.”

  “Except it’s not a win for the customer because you don’t offer any real services,” I said. “You exploit everyone’s trust.”

  Louisa blew a raspberry. “I pour pretty liquids together and conjure a nice image. Something the customer might want to see. I spread hope and joy. What’s wrong with that?”

  “You told Claire Cronk you saw no future for her. How is that spreading hope and joy?”

  Her mouth twitched. “That was hope and joy for everyone else. I thought that if I put fear into her, she might strive to be better.”

  The doorknob rattled and I knew Josie was trying to fight her way through the spell. Tough luck.

  “Let’s keep this between us for now,” I said.

  “You don’t want your understudy to know? That’s what she is, right?”

  “She’s meant to take over while I’m on maternity leave,” I said. “Hopefully, we can clear your name before that happens.”

  “Wow. Trials are that quick here?”

  I chewed my lip. “I’m hoping it doesn’t get that far.”

  Louisa leaned back slightly. “You don’t want this to go to trial?”

  “It’s a murder case, Louisa,” I said. “Rochester is an excellent prosecutor. If he finds out you’re a fake…” I waved my hand dismissively. “Best not to think about it at this stage.”

  Louisa’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I didn’t kill her, I swear. Please don’t let them convict me.”

  Althea’s door burst open and Josie stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowed into suspicious slits.

  “You should call a handyman. There seems to be trouble with the door. It’s sticking.”

  I wore an innocent expression. “Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”

  Althea appeared behind her with coffee cups. “I come bearing sustenance.”

  “Thanks, Althea. You’re the best,” I said. The Gorgon distributed the drinks.

  “What’d I miss?” Josie asked.

  “Nothing important,” I lied. “Louisa was about to tell me more about her background.”

  Josie feigned a snore. “In that case, it’s a good thing I have caffeine now.”

  “A client’s background can be extremely important to their case,” I told her. “You’d be surprised what you can learn if you ask the right questions.”

  “She’s right,” Louisa chimed in. “She seems to have a knack.”

  I shushed her with my eyes.

  Josie perched on the edge of the chair and moaned. “Yes, yes. I know all about perfect Emma Hart. How will I ever fill her shoes…I mean, flip-flops?”

  I tucked my feet under my chair, suddenly self-conscious.

  “When is your baby due?” Louisa asked.

  “It’s a mystery,” I said. “The healer says it can be any day now.” We weren’t sure about the gestational period for an angel-sorceress-demigod hybrid. No one was.

  “It looks more like any minute,” Josie said.

  “I still remember when my little brother was born,” Louisa said. “It was pretty cool.”

  “How old were you?” I asked.

  “Fourteen.”

  “That’s quite an age gap,” I said. “Are you close?”

  She lowered her gaze. “Not exactly. He’s my half-brother. My parents divorced and my dad married someone else when I was ten. Once Alfie came along, I was sort of…forgotten. That’s why I’m not much of a magic user. My dad was the magical one, but he didn’t spend enough time with me to pass along any tips.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “She died when I was fifteen,” Louisa said. “After that, I was sort of homeless. My stepmom didn’t want me to move in with them, so I crashed with friends for a year and they got me my first job.”

  “At the car dealership?” I asked.

  “Oh no. That was years later,” Louisa said. “I’ve had a lot of jobs. Nothing seems to pan out for me long-term.”

  “Oh, are we telling sad stories now?” Josie asked. “Let me see if I can think of one.” She took a long sip of her coffee and I had a fierce wish that Althea added a splash of compassion to it. Or maybe flatulence.

  There was a knock on the door and Britta poked her head inside. “How much longer are you going to be? The sheriff wants to know when the prisoner will be back in her cell.”

  “Just a minute, but I’ll need to see her again once I’ve had time to review the file.” I gave Louisa a sympathetic look. Despite the shocking truth about her potion telling abilities, I had a hunch that she was being truthful about her innocence. I didn’t claim to be psychic, but my instincts had proven to be right time and time again, so I was inclined to trust my gut.

  “Can I bring the latte with me?” Louisa asked.

  “Of course,” I said. “I’ll be back for you as soon as I can. I’ll make sure we have all our meetings here so you get some fresh air and exercise.”

  Louisa rose to her feet while I staggered to mine, and not without serious effort.

  “Maybe you should consider using a cane,” Josie suggested.

  “Good idea,” I said. “I know exactly where I’d put it.”

  Josie didn’t seem to catch on to my idle threat. She simply smiled at Louisa. “Look forward to seeing you again soon!” She wiggled her fingers happily and I wished there was a way that I could keep working after the birth, if only to prevent the wererat from taking over my caseload. Maybe the town would get lucky and no crimes would be committed during my leave. If only.

  “I can drive your car over later if you want to stay here now,” Britta offered.

  “Actually, I need to take a drive, so I’ll come now.”

  “What about me?” Josie asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the bookcase. “I see a few more books that need rearranging. Maybe start there,” I said and sailed out the door.

  Chapter Seven

  I returned to the scene of the crime the next day to see what I could learn on my own and was surprised when I spotted Bryan in their stall. He was surrounded by a small crowd, all offering their condolences. I gently pushed my way through the thong of bodies.

  “Bryan, what are you doing here?”

  It seemed to take him a moment to remember me in the sea of other faces. “Hello again. Emma, right?”

  “Yes.” I addressed the group. “Would everyone mind giving us a moment in private, please? I’d really appreciate it.”

  Paranormals clapped Bryan on the shoulder and shook his hand before returning to their respective stalls. It was touching to see the outpouring of support from the other business owners.

  “How can I help you?” he asked. “Did you need more treats? That’s what you bought, right?”

  “Yes, but that’s not why I’m here. Bryan, why are you working? Your wife just died.”

  He removed a checkered handkerchief from the front pocket of his shirt and dabbed his face. “I know it seems strange, but I don’t have a choice. We’d be in breach of contract if I didn’t show up. Claire would kill me if she weren’t already…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.