“So do I. I had tea with Liza earlier and she was a total wreck.” I sighed forlornly. “Anyway, it’s fine. I understand your position. I just hope that guy had nothing to do with this. Whoever he is…”
Sally popped her lips then pulled me in, cupping her hand over her mouth. “Okay, listen. I can’t tell you his name, but I think he said something about heading somewhere warmer with less rain. Oh, and he dressed really nice. The kind of guy who wears a fancy trench coat.”
My spine tingled. A Burberry trench coat, perhaps?
I gripped her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you, Sally. You’ve been a huge help. I promise to make getting into hot water because of me worth your while.”
For now, my head was swollen with whirring thoughts and theories. I needed to get back to the car and talk them out with Win.
Whirling around, I went for the door, but Officer Nelson, wet blanket award winner of the year, stopped me. “Miss Cartwright? In a rush to get somewhere?”
I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming. Turning, I pointed to my wrist as though I wore a watch. “Killing spree. I don’t want to be late. Gotta run and set up the sacrificial table. It’s tedious work to get everything right. Can we exchange pleasantries later?”
Officer Nelson actually smirked as though he were fighting a smile. Go figure. “I’ll need to ask you about your side of the events with Mr. Von Adams.”
“I’ve got an appointment with you guys at three today anyway. So it’s a date. Gotta run, the chicken sacrifice waits for no one!”
I ran out the door to the tune of a low chuckle that definitely didn’t belong to Win.
Jumping in my car, I threw the key in the ignition and headed toward the area of Jacob’s fish-and-chips truck.
“And they say spies are manipulative,” Win teased.
“Don’t pile on. I’ll already hate myself in the morning. Belfry? Do me a favor, take this down: Send Sally a year’s worth of cat food and kitty litter.”
“Got it, Boss.”
Win chuckled. “So let’s discuss. I assume we’re on our way to the fish-and-chips food truck?”
“You bet we are. Maybe he’ll remember the guy. I mean, maybe MZ was trying to tell us that this guy was staying with that Von Asshat at the inn? I still don’t know what that has to do with her son Dan and what he supposedly knows, but I have this tingle in my gut we’re on to something, Win. I don’t know what, but it leads somewhere.”
“I’d agree.”
The rush of adrenaline I always felt when I was close to figuring something out coursed through my veins. “Oh! Something else, didn’t Sally say he smelled really good? Belfry, remember you said whoever went into Madam Z’s store while we were there smelled good, too? But we skedaddled because we thought it might be the police?”
Belfry hopped out of my purse and onto the seat. “Oh yeah. Whoever it was did smell good. Really good.”
“And holy total recall!” I yelped, hitting my hand on the steering wheel. “I just remembered something else! When we went into Madam Z’s the first time, I remember smelling perfume or cologne or something. It’s what made me think she was somewhere in the store, but I didn’t smell it anymore when we were near her body. I know there’s a connection here. I just know it!”
Pulling up to the sidewalk where the food truck vendors were located, I put the car in park and jumped out in search of The Deep Sea Diver.
Tito was outside, under one of the tents set up to keep you dry as you ate, wiping down a table. I forgot all about our tiff and waved to him. “Tito!”
His glossy ebony head popped up, and then he realized it was me and his chubby, innocent face turned into a scowl. “Oh, no, no, no, senorita—ju no come to my truck! Ju bad, bad lady!”
Tito began to back away, but I held up my hand. “Tito, c’mon. Do I look like someone who’d murder a nice little old lady?”
His finger shot upward. “Ju might no look like bad lady, but bad ladies come in goat’s clothes!”
I stopped advancing on him and frowned, letting my arms fall to my sides in defeat. “That’s sheep’s clothing, and okay. I understand. But can I ask you one small thing?”
He looked affronted, his eyes wide as he slapped the inside of his forearm. “Ju wanna know what kinda blood type I got?”
Okay, this murder accusation stuff was really getting out of hand. “Where’s the guy with the fish and chips? Is he here today?”
Tito shooed me away, wiping his hands on his dirty white apron. “No! He bad like ju. Well, no as bad. He don’ kill me. But he no like rules! Now go!”
I’m usually not so easily defeated, but if I haven’t mentioned, I normally don’t deal with the living when I help a spirit other than to pass on a message. I’d never been this personally involved or had this much hate thrown my way my entire time as a witch.
And it was beginning to get to me. Tears began to well in my eyes as I skirted the food truck patrons and headed back to my car, defeat a sharp pang in my gut.