Saints & Sinners Ball Page 8

  Hattie made it to her house safely, and once inside, she turned on a few lights and began pulling leftovers from the Saints & Sinners Ball out of the fridge. Sparkle and Shine danced around her feet, snapping at crumbs Hattie dropped from above. As Hattie was fixing herself a plate to be heated, the dogs started to growl. She looked down at them confused and then a shiver ran down her spine.

  Hattie felt him before she saw or heard him. She turned and came face to face with Tucker’s spirit. Hattie started to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

  Tucker smirked. “I knew you could see me earlier today. Everyone said you had witchy skills, Hattie. I never really believed them. I thought it was a con, something to entertain the old ladies and give the young ones some hope for love. You’re the real deal, lady, and you’re going to help me.”

  “How can I help you?” Hattie asked cautiously, patting the dogs, letting them know she was okay. Hattie wanted to yell for her husband Beau, but she didn’t want to give away that her deceased husband was in the home before she had to.

  Tucker walked to the corner of the kitchen. He looked out the window. “You’re going to help find who killed me.”

  Confused, Hattie asked, “You don’t know who killed you?”

  Tucker turned back to her, his expression seemed lost as if trying to recall a memory. “No,” he said sadly. “I don’t even remember being killed. I was standing there one minute, then standing over my dead body the next.”

  “You were talking to someone when you were killed. Harper saw you,” Hattie explained. She walked up to Tucker. “Who were you talking to?”

  He looked past her, looking around her kitchen. His eyes never landing on a spot. Hattie could almost see the wheels turning in this brain.

  Finally, Tucker whispered, “I don’t remember.”

  Frustrated, Hattie demanded, “What’s the last thing you do remember?”

  “I don’t know,” he said dejected.

  “Think harder,” Hattie pressed him. “Do you remember the party?”

  “I was talking to a guy from the public defender’s office,” Tucker recalled. “Then there was someone waving to me from outside the tent. He waved for me to come to him. I followed him to the back of the property and down that clearing between the trees.” Tucker paused.

  He said annoyed, “I remember being angry, but I don’t remember anything else. My mind is just blank.” Tucker added, “I don’t remember what happened, but then I was standing over my body. That girl, your niece, was screaming. I got out of there, but now that I think of it, I don’t remember where I went.”

  Hattie didn’t really understand how death worked. She and Beau didn’t talk much about it. It had been at least five months after Beau died before he came to her. It was the longest five months of her life. Now Beau came in and out, but she was never really sure where he went when he was not with her. Beau said it would be hard for the living to understand, and Hattie didn’t press him.

  Tucker reached out his hand to touch Hattie on the arm, but it passed right through her. With concern on his face, he asked, “Why can’t I touch you?”

  “You’re dead, Tucker, a ghost, a spirit,” Hattie explained more impatiently than she meant. She softened her tone. “You can’t touch the living. It takes a lot of energy and focus, more than you’ll have right now.”

  “You’ll help me, won’t you? No one else can see me,” Tucker pleaded. “I have to know who killed me.”

  “Tucker, I’m not sure I know how to help you,” Hattie admitted. “Harper and Jackson did say they were going to look into things, but who knows what they will find.”

  Tucker’s eye got wide. “But someone other than the cops is looking to find my killer, right?”

  “Yes, my niece.”

  “Good I don’t trust the cops.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After Hattie assured Tucker that she’d help him if he promised to behave himself and not try to talk to her when her niece was around, he finally left. Hattie picked at her food, threw her dishes in the dishwasher and went to the second floor. She took a long hot shower, letting the water beat over her back and shoulders, trying to forget the stress of the day. After toweling her short hair nearly dry, Hattie pulled on a cotton nightgown and crawled into bed.

  Hattie turned the television on, just for the noise, but wasn’t really paying attention. She wanted to call out to Beau, but she was tired. Hattie wouldn’t know what to say to him. She wasn’t sure he’d be all that supportive of her helping to track down a killer.

  At close to nine, she heard Harper come in. Hattie heard her moving things around the kitchen and then walk up the stairs. “You’re home late,” Hattie called out to her.

  Harper poked her head into Hattie’s room and teased, “I haven’t had a curfew since I was sixteen. I didn’t know you were waiting up for me.”

  Hattie gave a weak smile. “I wasn’t. I just came up to bed, watching a little television before I call it a night. Come over and sit with me.” Hattie patted the bed next to her. Harper slipped off her shoes and climbed up on Hattie’s bed. Harper laid down next to her aunt and then rolled on her side, brushing her hair out of her face. “What was your project?” Harper asked curiously.

  “Do you really want to know?” Hattie asked skeptically. Harper said yes, and Hattie continued, “I thought it best given Inslee’s attitude towards me to do a little protection spell around the shop. My assistant Beatrix helped me.”

  “Are you going to do one here at the house, too?”

  “I am,” Hattie answered. Hesitantly she asked, “Would you like to help me? I know you don’t believe in all that, but I could use the help. If no, it’s okay, I can ask Beatrix.”

  Harper seemed to think about it. Then she gently declined, “I think you should probably have Beatrix help. I’m not really into it, and don’t think I’d be helpful. I’d like to meet Beatrix though. Jackson said she was nice and a great help to you.”

  Hattie didn’t argue with Harper the way she would have before. She said simply, “Beatrix is a lovely girl. She’s young, away from home for the first time, but wise beyond her years. I can ask her if she’s available tomorrow night.”

  “Sounds good,” Harper said. She yawned and started to get up to leave.

  Hattie tugged the back of Harper’s shirt. “You can tell an old lady to mind her own business, but were you with Jackson this whole time?”

  Harper laid back down, resting her head on the pillow. “Yeah, we were talking about the murder. I think we have some ideas of things to explore.”

  Harper spent the next twenty minutes going over the details and ideas she and Jackson had come up with. Hattie knew their plan now, and it seemed to be a solid one. Harper concluded by saying, “You need to stay out of it though. Let us look into it. Inslee is gunning for you. Don’t give him an excuse to do something crazy. Jackson said the cops searching here was just to show force.”

  “It’s not surprising,” Hattie said resolutely. “Inslee doesn’t scare me. But I’ll let you and Jackson take the lead. You’ll ask for help when you need it.”

  Hattie wanted to know what else occurred while they were at his house all evening. Anyone could see the chemistry between them, even if they were blind to it. Hattie had the feeling that the more time they spent together the less they’d be able to deny the attraction. Hattie just wasn’t sure they’d be willing to do anything about it. Hattie thought Jackson was a good match for Harper. He was strong, independent but would both encourage and tame, when needed, her strong-willed nature. Plus, Jackson could take care of Harper when needed as well.

  “What are you thinking?” Harper asked, bringing Hattie’s thoughts back to the present.

  “Oh, just if I were younger and single, I’d have been happy to spend an evening alone with Jackson.” Hattie smiled and peeked over at Harper out of the corner of her eye. Harper was smiling, too.

  “He’s a handsome man,” Harper admitted, her voice soft and
dreamy. “I don’t think he’s ready for anything beyond friendship.”

  “Are you ready for more than friendship?” Hattie asked, a bit surprised at what Harper just admitted.

  “I don’t know,” Harper said, sounding unsure of herself. She sat up in bed, crossed her legs under her and looked at her aunt. “When I left New York, I thought it was going to take me months, years even, to get over Nick and my marriage. Given everything that’s been going on, I’ve barely thought of him. It’s like I just slipped into this entire new life and forgot about my past.”

  Harper took an audible breath and breathed it out slowly. “I guess maybe it will all hit me at some point, but right now, it feels like I’m just ready to move forward.”

  “Nick wasn’t the great love of your life,” Hattie said gently but firmly. “He was probably brought into your life to teach you some lessons, and now you’re ready for whatever comes next. Time doesn’t indicate depth of love, remember that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just mean that it wouldn’t be unusual to have a deeper connection with someone you just met. Just because you knew Nick longer, doesn’t mean he means more to you.”

  Harper nodded, but didn’t offer her thoughts on the matter. She kissed Hattie on the cheek and said goodnight. Hattie rolled over and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “I wouldn’t have taken you for someone who snored.”

  Harper blinked once, then twice and fully opened her eyes. Jackson was standing over Harper’s bed with a cup of coffee in his outstretched hand.

  “What are you doing in my bedroom?” she asked, her voice groggy from sleep. She sat up, stretched her arms and looked around her room. There was the bra she wore the night before hooked by its strap on the desk chair. Panties were tossed on the floor as were her jeans. Harper wasn’t a slob by any stretch, but by the time she got home and was ready for bed, she was exhausted. Harper had slipped off her clothes and put on pajamas. She was grateful now she hadn’t gone to bed in the buff.

  Looking at the bra, Harper realized although she had a very thin tee-shirt on, she didn’t have on a bra. She was staring at the one hanging on the desk when Jackson snapped her out of it. “It’s a bra. You know I’ve seen one before.”

  “Well you haven’t seen mine,” Harper responded, annoyed at his presence. She grabbed the coffee out of his hand and took a satisfying sip. “Why are you here? It’s only seven.”

  Jackson walked across the room and sat in a chair facing the bed. He kicked his legs out in front of him and seemed quite comfortable invading her space. “We have work to do. Get up, lazy.”

  “Aren’t you going to be a gentleman and let me get myself together…alone,” Harper snarled.

  “You’re fine. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before,” Jackson said, eyeing her over his coffee cup. “Hattie is already at the shop. She let me in and told me to come up and wake you. Lottie and Judy are going to meet us there early so we can ask them some questions.”

  “That’s all well and good, but seriously, Jackson, I’m barely dressed. Get out.”

  “No,” he teased. “You were flirting with me last night. I want to see what I’m working with here. You’re all buttoned up usually.” Jackson barely got the words out before he cracked up laughing at himself.

  Harper was ready to throttle him.

  Jackson got up and walked to the door. Before he left, he turned to Harper and said flirtatiously, “You’re cute in the morning with no makeup on and messy hair. Maybe one day you’ll be asking me to stay instead of kicking me out of your room.” Jackson winked at her, then turned and left. He didn’t even wait for her response.

  Harper sat there with her mouth open. She wasn’t sure if he was serious or just teasing her, but he infuriated her. Harper sat in bed, with the covers up to her waist in case he came back, savoring the last of her coffee. At least he made it the way she liked it. After realizing Jackson probably wasn’t coming back, Harper headed for the shower and was ready in under thirty minutes.

  “Finally, the princess is ready,” Jackson chided her when Harper greeted him in the kitchen.

  “Why do you keep calling me princess?”

  “Because it clearly annoys you. Every time I do, you crinkle up your nose at me,” Jackson admitted. “It’s cute, like a little rabbit.”

  Harper grimaced at him, and they headed to Hattie’s shop. Harper couldn’t remember the last time she’d been there. She had to have been fifteen, maybe sixteen years old. Harper had visited Hattie since then but always skipped going to the shop. Harper felt like going there admitted her aunt’s gift might be legitimate. Jackson was right though, Harper needed to give Hattie the benefit of the doubt and respect it even if she didn’t understand it.

  Entering the shop, Harper thought she’d be overwhelmed by the smell of incense, but in reality, she was greeted with a wave of strong-smelling coffee and chocolate. It felt warm and wonderful. The tables and chairs looked comfortable and inviting. Nothing about the shop screamed dark witchy magic, not that it ever did if Harper’s memory served her. Over the years, Harper must have created an image of the shop in her head that was far removed from reality. She felt silly now. Harper had loved being in the shop as a kid.

  Jackson walked over to a table where two older women sat. They were drinking cups of tea and eating scones. He stuck out his hand, “I think we’ve met before or at least seen each other here in the shop. I’m Jackson. Thanks for meeting with us.”

  Lottie smiled up at him and shook his hand. “Anything for Hattie. I’m Lottie and this is Judy.”

  Jackson and Harper took a seat at the table. Jackson explained, “I think it’s probably a bit odd that we’d be looking into who killed Tucker Reese, but we don’t trust Matthew Inslee. The moment he got the cops to search Hattie’s house brought it home for me that maybe he wasn’t so inclined to find the truth.”

  Lottie waved him off. “We don’t need an explanation. Everyone in this town, for the most part, knows that Matthew Inslee always has an agenda, and it’s a self-serving one at that. What would you like to know?”

  Harper and Jackson had talked about a plan of action on the walk over to the shop. Neither wanted to come right out and accuse Tucker’s widow, Lizzie. But ruling her in or out at the start was important. “For us, everyone is a suspect until they aren’t. I know Lizzie was your friend, Judy, so we want to clear her as soon as possible and find the killer especially if Inslee decides to turn his attention to her. I wonder if you think Lizzie is capable of killing her husband?”

  “Lordy no,” Judy said. “I just can’t imagine she’d do it. That said, the more I thought after we talked the other day, her brother, Drew, is a scoundrel. I remember even as children he was always getting in trouble.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Tell me about Lizzie if you can,” Jackson directed to Judy. He was jotting down some notes as Judy talked. Hattie came over and put down coffee in front of Jackson and Harper. Then she slid a chocolate croissant in front of Harper and a raspberry cheese Danish in front of Jackson. She mouthed, “your favorites,” to Harper as she walked back behind the counter. Harper gave Hattie a grateful smile.

  Judy leaned into the table and spoke to them. Her voice was low and even. “I’ve known Lizzie practically my whole life. I heard through friends that she had gotten tired of Tucker tomcatting around. She was going to divorce him and go after his money.”

  “Lizzie was angry with him and ready to be done with their marriage?” Jackson confirmed.

  “Wouldn’t you be if your spouse was cheating on you?” Judy asked and looked to each of them for confirmation.

  While they both said they understood, Harper noticed that Jackson had winced at the question.

  “It wasn’t a judgment. I just wanted to make sure that was her mental state.”

  Harper wondered, “Did he know she was searching for an attorney or that she had made this decision?
”

  “From what my friends have said, yes he did. Tucker and Lizzie had a huge fight last week, and that was part of why she wasn’t at the Saints & Sinners Ball. Tucker told her that she could get the best damn attorney she could find, but that Lizzie could leave the marriage with what she brought into it,” Judy explained and then added with emphasis, “and that was practically nothing.”

  From behind the counter, Hattie asked, “Judy, we know it wasn’t Lizzie that shot Tucker. Harper said it was a man so do you know where Drew is?”

  “He’s here in Little Rock,” Judy informed them. Her face was starting to get red and she was fidgeting in her seat. “You don’t think Lizzie had anything to do with it, do you?”

  Harper looked to Jackson. He patted Judy on the hand and assured her, “We can’t get ahead of ourselves. But it looks like right now we can’t rule her out. Do you know much about her brother?”

  Judy took another sip of her tea and asked Hattie for more. “You better bring me another scone. This is too much for me.”

  Then turning her attention back to Jackson, Judy said, “Drew was always in trouble. Even when we were children, he was getting yelled at by teachers. I can’t think of a day he wasn’t in detention. As we grew older, his misbehavior became more serious. I think we were in our twenties the first time he got in trouble with the law. I can’t remember why now, but later, he got more sophisticated and then went to prison for insurance fraud. But he never physically hurt anyone.”

  “That’s good. This might not even be anything, but it warrants checking,” Harper reassured.

  “Do you know where he’s living?” Jackson asked.

  “Sure,” Judy replied. “He’s been staying with Lizzie and Tucker since he got out of prison. He’s been trying to get back on his feet, but it’s hard for a felon to find decent work.”