She looked up at Alex, tears shimmering in her big brown eyes. “That was when I noticed that the door to his bedroom was open.”
“He keeps his door closed?”
“Yes, when he sleeps. And he’s never up before I get there, so I thought it was odd. I went to the door and peered in. I noticed that the bed was empty and that there was light coming from the bathroom.”
“What did you do then?”
“I...I called out to him. I didn’t want to go in and catch him in his birthday suit. I called Stan three times, and when he didn’t answer, I went in. I was worried, you know, he’s been fighting a nasty chest infection.”
“Was he taking anything for that?”
“Penicillin.”
Alex nodded. “What happened next?”
“I went into the bathroom and….and…” Tears fell from her already red and puffy eyes.
“And you saw him in the tub?”
She nodded.
“Was there anything else you noticed? Anything out of place? Anything that shouldn’t have been there?”
She shook her head.
“Did you touch him, or try to revive him? Try to pull him out of the tub?”
“No, goodness, no.”
“How did you know he was dead? If you didn’t check for a pulse, or touch him?”
“I didn’t. But I knew something was wrong, so I called 911.”
Alex nodded. He applauded her actions. She did the right thing. If she had tried to revive him, water would have sloshed out of the tub and he would be marking this as an accidental drowning.
“Thank you, Jean. I’ll find someone to drive you home. Is there someone that can stay with you?”
She nodded. “My daughter.”
“Why don’t you call her, and I’ll find Deputy Coleman to drive you.” Alex turned to leave the kitchen.
“Oh, Sheriff, there was one thing, now that I think of it.”
He turned back. “What is it?”
“When I went into his bedroom and into the ensuite, I swore I could smell cinnamon.”
“Cinnamon?”
She nodded.
“Okay, thank you, Jean. If I have any other questions I’ll call you.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Sheriff.”
Alex stepped out of the kitchen and ran into Deputy Coleman. He was smiling and shaking his head.
“What did you do to Jill?”
“Gave her an order.”
“She is some pissed at you.”
“I’m sure she’ll get over it.”
“If you think that, you don’t know Jill.”
“You’re right, Deputy, I don’t know her. I don’t know anyone. All I do know is that we have a dead body. And that body is dead for a reason. Now, if everyone would get their heads out of their asses, then we could solve this case quickly and quietly. It’s not as if the guy died by magic.”
Ted flinched and looked away from Alex’s intense stare. Alex caught the motion. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, something. You looked like you had an idea.”
“No, no ideas.”
“Listen, Ted, police work is half hard work, half gut feelings. Something clicked in you when I said
‘the guy died by magic’. Now what is it?”
“This is a small town, and everyone knows everything about everybody.”
“Yes?”
“What would you say if I told you I know someone that didn’t like Stan very much?”
“I would say, excellent, we have our first suspect, who is it?”
“Anisa Crowley. Our local witch.”
Chapter Three
Anisa rubbed at her temple again. The headache Awas getting worse, stronger, more centralized.
This morning she had a dull throb all over her head, but now it was situated in her temples. It was if someone was pushing pins into the side of her skull.
She dropped her hand and smiled at the woman she was serving. She knew she was just a browser.
Madeline was always just a browser. The one and only thing she ever bought from Anisa’s shop was the lavender incense, and it had been on sale.
Madeline's husband had died two years prior, and ever since she’d been trying to gain a reputation for being an eccentric old lady. When Francois had been alive, Madeline had been the perfect wife, perfect hostess, and perfect townsperson. She now wanted to shed those labels and lead the life she always wanted.
Except, she never really wanted to go too far. She had a reputation to uphold.
Madeline held up the crystal pendant to her aging eyes. “This is lovely, dear. What does it do again?”
“It aids in finding love. It’s a sensuality stone.”
“Well, I definitely don’t need that.” She handed it back to Anisa. “You take it, dear, maybe it will help you find a husband.”
“I don’t need a husband, Madeline.”
Madeline dismissed her speech with a wave of her dainty bejeweled hand, and continued to rummage through the shelves.
Anisa shook her head, then looked down at the stone in her hand. It seemed to warm against her skin.
Odd, she thought. Never happened before.
The little bell at her door rang. She looked up as the door opened and Ted and another man came in.
She smiled at Ted.
“Hi, Ted. Did you come for some more bath salts? I just made up a new batch.”
Ted blushed. “Ah, no, sorry, Anisa. I…I…this is Sheriff Branwell.” He stepped to the side and waved his hand at Alex.
Anisa felt her heart stutter in her chest as she looked him over. He was a tall man with wide shoulders and trim waist. His unruly dark hair brushed at his collar and flirted at his brow, overlooking incredibly dark blue eyes. He had an impressive presence. The weight of his aura pressed back on her, circled around her, brushed softly against her skin. Anisa had to suck in a breath to stop the moan that quivered on her lips.
He had gifts. Gifts he had no idea he possessed.
“Morning, Sheriff.”
He nodded stiffly.
“Ah, Sheriff needs to talk to you. In private,” Ted said softly his eyes flitting to Poppy, Anisa’s young employee, who hovered nearby, her dark brown eyes wide with interest.
“Sure. How ‘bout we go in the back?” She motioned to the gauzy curtain that separated the back rooms.
“What’s up?” Poppy asked as she bounced excitedly from foot to foot.
“Can you watch the store, Poppy? I’ll only be a minute.” She eyed Alex. He continued to stare at her intently.
“Sure.” She smiled and waved her fingers at Ted.
“Hi, Teddy.”
Ted blushed again. “Um, hi, Poppy.”
Anisa led them into the back room where there was a small round table, and two chairs. The table was covered with a white embroidered cloth, and had two candles on it, a gold and a silver, both in elegant ornamental holders.
She gestured to one of the chairs. “Would you care to sit?”
“No, thank you.”
“Well, I will, if you don’t mind?” She pulled out a chair and sat, crossing her long legs.
* * * *
Alex watched the movement carefully. He liked to watch people as he questioned them. Everyone had tells. Ways their bodies moved, or infliction in their voices told stories. Told truth or guilt. So far the only things he could tell about Anisa Crowley was she was drop-dead gorgeous and she was mad as hell for their intrusion.
He had almost lost his breath when he first saw her. She was a vision of golden splendor. Her long wavy hair was piled haphazardly on top of her head.
At any moment, it looked like it would come cascading down like a glittering waterfall. He desperately wanted to pull the pin and bury his hands in it, brush the silky strands across his face.
Her eyes were also golden. Amber would be the color, he supposed. They were exotically shaped, almost like a cat's. When they had landed on him, measuring him with heated appraisal, he thought he’d go mad with desire. Under her prim, flowery dress, he imagined a body generous with womanly curves and honeyed secret places. He could almost feel the silk of her skin under his hands, as they itched violently in his pockets. He had to bite his tongue to control the urge to spring on top of her and rip away the concealing fabric.
Never before in his life, had he had such a brutally sexual reaction to a woman. It scared the shit out of him.
“Was there something you wanted?”
Her sultry voice shook him out of his trance. He pulled his stare away from Anisa and glanced around the room. Ted looked at him questioningly from the corner of his eye. Alex rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. He had to pull it together.
“Did you know Stan Hart?”
Anisa frowned. “Yes, I know him.”
“What was your relationship with him?”
“No relationship, thank you.”
“You sound bitter when you say that. Stan’s not your favorite person?” Alex cocked an eyebrow. He could hear the disdain in her honeyed voice.
“Not really.”
“You’ve had words over the years? Arguments?
Heated arguments?”
“You could say that. Stan, has a problem with…me.”
“And that made you…angry?”
She sat forward in her chair and put a hand onto the table. “What is this all about?”
Ted sighed. “Stan’s dead, Anisa.”
She gasped and put a shaky hand to her mouth.
Finally, a reaction he could deal with. She was hiding something.
“Deputy, could you excuse us?”
Ted looked at Alex, then back to Anisa. “Um...”
“I’d prefer if he stayed, Sheriff Branwell.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Because I don’t like the way you’re looking at me.”
Alex swore he saw her eyes flash as she spoke, just as he felt a cold tendril of air wrap itself around his body, touching, and caressing him. Shivers vibrated up and down his spine. The little hairs on his arms stood at attention. The feeling made him want to back up a step or two. But he clenched his jaw and stood his ground. He never backed away from a confrontation. Although Anisa was still sitting still across the room, he felt very confronted. She had not made any movement, but it still felt like he had been slapped across the face with a long, cold hand.