A Southern Charms Cozy Potluck Box Set Page 6

  Beauregard sat down on the edge of the stage, his makeup running from sweat. Or maybe tears. “Tipper would have hated this.” He sniffed and pulled a hanky out of his pocket to wipe his nose.

  I hated to disagree with him, but I was pretty sure that wherever Uncle Tipper was, he was loving the mayhem.

  “Would you please explain yourself and what you want from us? I would prefer to leave this witch hunt as soon as possible,” Raif demanded. The rest who rallied around him, staring up at Mason on the stage.

  The detective counted the crowd. “This isn’t everybody.”

  Nana spoke up. “A town hall meeting is an invitation for everyone to attend and participate. It is not mandatory.”

  Mason frowned. “Then I’ll collect what I can and pursue the rest later. I need each of you to tell me your whereabouts during the First Night festivities.”

  Raif stepped forward. “Why us, sir? Why make our lives harder by holding us as responsible for Tipper’s murder?”

  “I did not say that he was murdered.”

  “You all but did!” shouted Raif. “To the entire town!” The other vampires joined their tall companion in expressing their outrage.

  Mason maintained a stoic stance on the stage, sweat glistening on his brow. “I’m trying to rule you out, not arrest anybody. For reasons I cannot, nor will, not divulge at this time, questioning all of you is necessary.”

  His eyes swept the room, and I swore he glanced in my direction. Ducking down, I held my breath. Voices echoed from below, but from my crouched position, only some of what was said remained clear.

  Mason may not have said the word murder, but his zeal to question me and now this particular group told me enough. What happened to Tipper that night hadn’t been natural. And his ramblings that I thought showed how touched in the head my distant family member had turned might have had some truth to them.

  My mind raced to organize the details of talking to Tipper. People wanted to end his fun. He knew things. And he’d said that if someone had wanted to stop him, they had to do it over his dead body.

  What else had we talked about? He’d wanted me to help him find his bowtie. The whole thing was probably to test out my abilities to locate things so that I could help him in some upcoming adventure. Except…

  With a gasp, I scrambled to my feet and hurried down the stairs. Turning the old knob and opening the door a crack, I checked for anyone around. The coast being clear, I snuck to the side door and did the same, pushing it open into the night air and running around to the back of the building out of sight, trying to piece together a plan.

  My locating abilities required touching something or somebody to pick up on whatever I searched for. A thought or memory of someone I’d never truly been in contact with wouldn’t work.

  The flap of wings and the familiar screech near my head alarmed me until an idea struck me. Taking a chance and trusting my gut, I spoke directly to the bird. “Biddy, I need to find someone. Now. Can you help me? For Tipper?” I held out my arm in hope.

  Without hesitation, she flitted down and landed on me, her head cocking side to side so her dark eyes could regard me. Recalling a picture of the person I sought in my head, I contemplated how to make a connection through Tipper’s bird to find them. Before I found my solution, the crow nodded her head.

  Spreading her wings, she took off into the darkened sky, the moon lighting up her silhouette. Disappointment filled me until she called out a stray cry, circling overhead.

  “You know exactly where I want to go, don’t you, you old Biddy,” I muttered. Knowing I must be a little crazy but trusting my instincts, I readied myself. “Lead the way.”

  Mason was right. Not everybody on his list was still there in that room. Someone had left early. Someone who’d walked up the aisle and out of the town hall. Someone who’d been wearing blood red heels.

  Chapter Six

  Following a bird flying in the night sky while avoiding being seen proved to be a challenge. Biddy’s flight path didn’t take into consideration trees, hedges, bushes with thorny bits, or the occasional vole hole to step in. She squawked in impatience, circling above me when my efforts moved too slowly for her liking.

  The large crow glided down to perch on top of a mailbox, flapping her wings and cawing. A dim light glowed inside behind drawn curtains. My heart rose in my throat while blood pumped fast in my veins. The plan in my head had gotten me as far as finding where the intended target lived. What came next?

  Biddy took off and landed on the porch, hopping around and squawking. Afraid that her boisterous insistence might draw attention to us, I rushed to her, making more noise trying to pacify her.

  The unlatching of a lock startled both of us quiet. The front door opened, and a well-dressed woman stepped out. “Biddy, is that you?”

  Without hesitation, the crow hopped up and landed on the offered arm. The lady scratched the bird’s head, mumbling sweet things to her.

  “Good evening, Ms. Eveline.” No doubt her vampire abilities had already alerted her to my presence. “I mean, Lady Eveline.”

  She smiled at me, the tips of her fangs peeking out of her lips. “No one calls me that here. Least of all you. Tipper spoke of you often and with much love, Charli, if I may call you that. Won’t you please come in?” Opening the door wide, she beckoned me to come inside.

  Following a vampire into their house might be considered ill-advised anywhere else except in Honeysuckle. That reassurance didn’t stop my heart from racing as I stepped in front of her and made my way inside.

  Large antique pieces and ornate decorations in her foyer met my expectations of what would adorn a vampire’s house. But when I followed her through her formal parlor into an inner living room, the old-world elegance gave way to furniture that could be found in pretty much any Honeysuckle household.

  Without a sound, Biddy lifted off of the vampire’s shoulder and rested on the mantle, making herself at home. Eveline glided to me after I sat down on a fluffy couch. “May I offer you something to drink? Tipper enjoyed his libations whenever he joined me here.”

  No doubt she meant something with a little kick. But I needed my wits about me. “Some sweet tea?”

  With another polite grin that showed off the sharpness of her teeth, she made her way towards her kitchen. “Ice or no ice?” she called out as her blood-red heels clicked on the hardwood floors.

  “Ice, please.”

  The time it took for her to bring the drink didn’t give me much opportunity to gather my thoughts. When she came back, she took a seat across from me, crossing her long legs and folding her hands in her lap. In a panic, I realized she was giving me the control of the conversation.

  “So, uh, I guess you and Uncle Tipper were a…I mean, you two sometimes got together…no, I don’t mean to imply…” I fumbled and sipped on the tea to calm my nerves.

  “You mean to say that Tipper and I were something of an item. The answer to that is, yes. Let us speak plain with each other, much like Tipper and I did. It makes things much easier.” Her foot in her pointed shoe bounced. “To that end, I must say that when I expected company tonight, it never crossed my mind that it might be you.”

  “Who were you expecting?”

  She sighed. “I thought perhaps Raif might stop by.”

  “You mean after you addressed him at the town hall meeting?”

  Her eyebrows raised. “You saw that?”

  I nodded and pressed harder. “It looked like you were unhappy with what he said.”

  Eveline stood up with such speed that her movement blurred in front of me. She stood next to the mantle, staring at Biddy. “You’ve been absent for a while, right? So you’re not caught up on current events here in town.” Biddy leaned her head forward to let Eveline scratch it. “Raif has been at the forefront of a campaign to get a non-witch onto the town council. You can imagine what a proposal like that might do to a town like this or how it might go over with some.”

  My mouth fell o
pen. During my lifetime in my hometown, I could only remember one incident of someone pushing for a major change like that. I must have been six. No, seven. Old enough to recognize how controversial it had been but not mature enough to understand the outcome. From what I remember, whoever it had been that suggested the change eventually left Honeysuckle, and it had stirred up some unrest amongst the non-witch magical community for a long time.

  “And Raif wouldn’t let the issue drop, no matter how much I tried to convince him that now was not the time. Especially tonight of all nights,” she continued. “But he is right. There should be more representation of non-witches at a higher level of the town leadership. However, discussing that with Tipper showed me how volatile it might get if any of us pushed.”

  For all of his good parts, Tipper possessed a deep-rooted stubborn streak and could be very difficult to deal with. “Guessing he focused on how bad change would be, and clung to tradition above all else.”

  Eveline smiled. “You knew your family member well. Tipper was no fan of Raif’s zeal. There were a few nights where it drove a wedge between us.” Her grin faded. “I suppose those were silly fights, considering I will no longer be able to verbally spar with him anymore. How I will miss that exasperating old man.”

  She slipped a dark lace handkerchief from inside her sleeve and dabbed at the pink tears pooling in her eyes. “You must excuse me. His passing has weakened me in a way I did not expect.”

  Rubbing my sore arm, I watched her emotions take over as she gave in to quiet sobs. No one who witnessed the display could dispute that her feelings for Tipper were genuine. I replayed her explanation in my head to try and figure out heads or tails of Mason’s motives.

  “Maybe you can shed some light as to why the wardens would detain Raif, Beauregard, and other vampires at the end of the meeting? Do you think the campaign for a council seat is the reason?”

  Eveline dropped her handkerchief. “Please, tell me that you are in jest. They held back all the vampires in Honeysuckle?”

  Did her fangs just grow longer and her eyes flash red? Attempting a brave face to cover my growing unease, I affirmed the information. “It’s true. Detective Clairmont read off a list of names, which included yours. And Raif protested.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I would think so. It will fuel his enthusiasm for making changes twofold, that you can count on. And it will have won no friends for that detective.”

  “Pfft. Detective Clairmont succeeds at that all on his own,” I uttered without thinking.

  “It must mean that they suspect one of us for Tipper’s demise.” She tapped her finger in thought against her lips. “No, your visit shall not be the only one of the night, if I were a betting person like our Tipper. And that man almost always won whatever he gambled.”

  A stinging tingle shot down my arm and I couldn’t hold back the shiver. The more we talked about my great-uncle, the more the ache increased.

  “So you think Uncle Tipper’s death wasn’t natural?” I gritted my teeth against the growing pain.

  Eveline shook her head. “I don’t know what to think. He would occasionally rant and rave about things in a manner that, well, I’m not sure how to say this without insulting his memory.”

  “He sounded a little touched in the head? I talked to him briefly the first night I returned to town. I think I understand what you mean.”

  Sitting back down, she leaned forward. “He was sure that someone was after him. Sometimes I’d have to calm him down, he’d agitate himself into such a tizzy. And then like that, he’d snap out of it. But never in my wildest…my dear, are you quite all right?”

  The pain in my arm throbbed with such intensity that the discomfort blocked my ability to pay attention. Unable to hide it, I clutched my limb and cursed. With concern, she rushed to my side.

  I waved her off. “I’m fine. But may I use your powder room?”

  She pointed at a nearby door. “I have a half-bath there if that will do.”

  Sweat breaking on my brow, I made it to the small bathroom with a little dignity intact. Splashing water on my face, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. A stray thought caught me off guard and made me smile through my pain. Did vampires actually need mirrors?

  A loud knocking on the front door interrupted my silly musings. Biddy cawed in agitation. The rapping persisted until the front door creaked open. Eveline spoke to whoever joined her, but the voice that answered caught me off guard.

  “I’ll ask again, where were you tonight?” Mason’s tone left no room for polite chit-chat. Holding my breath, I listened in.

  “I attended the first part of the meeting but chose to leave before its conclusion. Why?” Eveline asked. I noticed that she didn’t offer him any refreshments that might encourage him to stay longer than his welcome.

  He kept things vague after a pause. “I am interviewing all persons of interest at this time.”

  “Including me. Do not dance around the reason why, Detective. It will only prolong your time here,” added Eveline.

  Biddy squawked with thunderous indifference.

  “Is that your bird?” Mason asked.

  “You know full well it is not and whose it is. Was. That is Tipper’s crow Biddy, and she is welcome here anytime she wishes to visit.”

  “So she’s familiar with your residence?”

  “Let us not play games, Detective Clairmont. Tipper and I did have a relationship of sorts.”

  “Will you elaborate on that for me?”

  Eveline sighed loud enough for me to hear through the door. “I mean that from time to time, we would come together.”

  “You were a couple?”

  “We were together when we wanted to be. Is that clear enough for you?”

  He coughed twice. “And what do you mean by being together?”

  “May I presume by your line of questioning that you found something of interest in your examination of the body that leads you to suspect those of my kind?”

  Mason’s tone darkened. “What do you believe was discovered, Lady Eveline?”

  “By my guess, you found a bite mark. Not fresh, mind you. But still present.” A chair creaked, and I guessed that Eveline sat across from the detective much as she had me, probably unnerving him a bit.

  “Despite it being against the law, you would bite him?” An edge to Mason’s voice suggested a level of discomfort.

  “From time to time, it would happen in a moment of uncontrollable, raw passion.”

  Eww. No part of my mind wanted to think about Tipper being passionate. Joking that he could be a Southern Casanova was one thing. Having it confirmed with possible mental images took it to a whole other level.

  After a pause, Eveline’s voice rolled out like a cat’s purr. “Why, Detective, I believe you are blushing. Is it possible that you understand the effects of losing control of one’s self and giving in to the raging fire that sometimes burns within us?”

  The thought of her approaching Mason, maybe flirting with him, or even perhaps touching him did something inexplicable to me. Before I could explore the random reaction, the cold ache throbbed to life again. My hands gripped the sink to steady myself.

  Mason cleared his throat. “So, uh, the biting was consensual?”

  Her voice came out smooth as silk. “Of course, detective.”

  “One more question. Where did you stand on the issue of changing the town council?”

  Good. He managed to ask a question that nagged me as well.

  “Like all relationships and politics, we attempted to avoid confrontations when together to keep the peace.” Eveline’s response offered some insight but held back a lot more.

  “I see,” said Mason, not as confident as before.

  Eveline’s tone returned to one of annoyance. “And now that you have your answers, will you stop bothering the vampires of Honeysuckle?”

  Carefully, I leaned against the door and listened. “I have responses to some of my questions. Not all. But I suppose
that is enough for tonight.”

  “Yes,” agreed Eveline. “Considering that you are here unofficially and I am not under arrest.”

  “Yet,” underlined Mason. “Ms. Winthorpe, I will advise you the same way I told everyone else I interviewed tonight. Do not leave town anytime soon.”

  “Detective Clairmont, Honeysuckle is my chosen home. Out of all places in the world, I choose to live here. Not because it is the richest place or most fascinating, but because it is the safest place I have found. At least until now.” A cry from Biddy punctuated her statement.

  “Crazy bird,” Mason muttered under his breath. “Ma’am, I assure you, my job is to keep this town safe, no matter what people think about me while I do what needs to be done to make it so. I’ll see myself out.”

  Through the fog of pain, I worked out the facts so far. Tipper’s body must have shown bite marks. Although, if Eveline was to be believed, they were not fresh. Reason number one, Mason targeted vampires. He also knew about Raif’s campaign, reason number two. But that issue didn’t point to only one set of Honeysuckle citizens.

  My gut instinct told me that no vampire had anything directly to do with Tipper’s demise. But then why single them out?

  A light tap on the door interrupted me. “Are you okay in there, Charli?”

  Was I? A quick inventory of how I felt gave me an answer I didn’t like. Coming out of the small bathroom, I lied with a tiny crack of a smile. “I’ll live. And you? Are you okay?”

  She clicked her tongue. “That man has no idea how to comport himself. If he is not careful, he will find himself on the wrong end.” Intense emotion flashed in the lady vampire’s eyes, and I held back the desire to ask her—the wrong end of what?

  “I should get going myself.” With careful steps, I entered the living room again.

  She walked me to the front of her house in uncomfortable silence. When she opened the door, Biddy flew past me into the night without so much as a caw of goodbye.

  Eveline touched my shoulder, and a chill rocked my entire body. She ran her fingertip down to my hand. “It hurts, right?”