“Allegra,” Trixie said as she shook me.

  I snapped out of it and stood up. “We should call Bethany,” I said.

  “I’m on it,” Trixie said.

  I pulled my clothes out of her bag and threw them on as fast as I could. Trixie was pacing on the phone while telling Bethany what we’d found and where we were located.

  While I tied my shoes, my eyes drifted back over to the body floating in the water. It was Tim Graves. He was face up, and if I looked at his eyes too much, it started to feel like I couldn’t breathe.

  “Don’t look,” Voodoo said.

  He sat down next to me and rubbed his head against my shoulder. My hand instinctively found the area behind his ear and I scratched. As his back foot kicked in time with my scratches, I felt myself relax a little.

  Trixie came over and sat down next to me in the grass when she finished her call. “She’s on her way now.”

  “Aren’t we outside of the town limits?” I asked.

  “She said she was calling the county sheriff too, but she wanted to come out to the scene because they will probably need help.”

  The sheriff arrived a few minutes after Bethany, and they called the state police in when a local deputy spoke with Tim’s wife. She said that their RV was missing. There was a quick search of any nearby parking areas and the roads around the pond, and when that turned up nothing, the state police decided to dredge the pond.

  Sure enough, they found the RV at the bottom of the pond. Somehow, the door had opened up, and the law enforcement officials on the scene postulated that the body had floated out the door and up to the surface.

  It was nearly immediately decided that it had been a suicide or some sort of drunken accident. The coroner came to get the body, and they corroborated that conclusion.

  Bethany came over and spoke with us as the county sheriff’s deputies and the state police dispersed. “No one has any questions for you but thank you for sticking around,” she said.

  “We heard them saying it was a suicide or accident,” Trixie said.

  “Looks that way,” Bethany said, but I detected a hint of doubt in her voice.

  “You don’t think so?” I asked.

  “I don’t know…” she said and looked out at the water. “There was a wound on his head. State police and the coroner said it probably happened when he hit the water. Like, his head hit the steering wheel or even the rearview mirror. I just don’t know. Either way, you should stay out of it.” Bethany was looking right at me when she said the last part.

  “Looks like you’ve got a bad reputation with local law enforcement,” Trixie said once Bethany had walked away.

  “I don’t know if I’d put it that way. She’s even come to me to bounce ideas off of before,” I said.

  “Well, I definitely don’t think he killed himself or accidently drove his RV into the pond,” Trixie said.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because his ghost is standing over there by the trees, and he looks ticked.”

  I turned around to look, and Trixie was right. I could mostly see through Tim, but he was there. His face was a mask of fury, and his hands were gesturing wildly. While his lips were moving, I couldn’t hear anything coming from them.

  “Should we go see if we can hear what he’s saying?” I said.

  “I don’t think we’re going to be able to hear him, and I don’t really want to get near those bad vibes. He doesn’t have the energy to make himself heard, but he’ll try to siphon our energy to do it,” she said. “I’m feeling way too drained for that.”

  “I’m just going to go check it out,” I said. “We can go get something to eat and recharge after that.”

  “Fine, I’ll come with you.”

  We stood up, and Trixie brushed the grass off the back of her pants. I walked over to where Tim’s ghost was standing, but he disappeared before I got there.

  “Okay, food it is,” I said, but something about twenty feet away caught my eye.

  There was something red in between the green leaves of the nearby shrubs. I walked over to it and pushed the branches apart. It was a cooler.

  Scattered around it were dozens of empty cans. Trixie picked one up and looked at it.

  “There’s still beer in that little groove around the top of the can. These had to have been thrown here recently,” she said.

  I opened the cooler and looked inside. There was more beer and a couple of sandwiches too. “Look, there’s more here. This can’t be from this morning, though. Who would have been drinking this much that early?” I said. “We got here pretty early.”

  “It must be from yesterday then,” Trixie said. “Or last night.”

  “Well, we saw Tim at the bar last night, so he had to have died sometime between when he left and this morning. Could his body have really started to float that soon?” I pondered.

  “Ew,” Trixie said. “I mean, probably under the right conditions, but ew.”

  “I can’t believe I was in that water,” I said and a shiver ran down my spine.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Trixie said. “I mean, I had no idea. How could I?”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “I’m just so skeeved out. Like, now that it’s over, I need to go home and take a three-hour long shower.”

  “Okay, let’s get you home so you can shower. I’ll give you the oil and you can do a mini cleanse,” Trixie said.

  “Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea.”

  Chapter Four

  After my shower, I came downstairs to find Trixie and Voodoo in the kitchen eating bacon. I walked over to the freezer and pulled out two pizzas.

  “I’m going to make pizza. I’ve got pepperoni and Hawaiian,” I said.

  I went to preheat the oven, and Trixie got up. “Nope, no need. Let me handle it,” she said.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll let you. I can keep things warm, but I don’t know that I’m quite ready for baking two pizzas yet.”

  “You’ll get there,” Trixie said with a smile. “Until then, I’ve got your back.”

  I stepped back, and Trixie waved her hands over the pizzas. In seconds, the crust rose up and the cheese browned perfectly. She smiled, waved her hands over them again, and both pizzas were cut in perfect slices.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Trixie and I piled plates up high with the slices of pizza. We save a piece for Voodoo, who waited patiently at the table. There were a few slices of bacon left, so I crumbled a couple onto my Hawaiian pizza.

  “Ooh,” Trixie said. “That is an excellent idea.”

  Once we were done eating, I grabbed some lemonade from the fridge, and we went out back to sit at my patio table.

  Once we were settled, Trixie brought Tim up again. “So, who do you think did it?” she asked. “Like any idea who killed him? Or, do you think he killed himself?”

  “I definitely don’t think he killed himself. He was in the tavern last night and he got in a fight about the coffee punch cards with Jim from the bakery. I just don’t think people who are going to kill themselves get upset over coffee punch cards.”

  “Maybe he really did have a drunken accident,” Trixie said.

  “I don’t know. How would he have gotten out there? I could see someone driving around on the roads drunk and getting into an accident, but how would he have ended up in the pond? That seems really farfetched,” I said.

  “You think so?” Trixie asked. “I’ve seen some people get drunk enough that could totally happen.”

  “I didn’t really know him, but I don’t think he got drunk and took his RV out for a spin in the woods often. He just didn’t seem like the type.”

  “He got drunk and got in a fight over coffee punch cards,” Trixie said.

  “I don’t think he was drunk. He had a beer or two, and the fight happened before he could have more,” I said.

  “He could have already been drunk when he got there,” she said.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “So, you’re totally convinced it was a murder.”

  “I am,” I said. “I’m not sure if it was Jim, but Jim was not happy.”

  “Jim is pretty off balance,” Trixie said. “He seems like one of those people who has rage barely boiling under the surface. If his business is in trouble, that’s probably causing him more stress.”

  “Yeah, and Tim hit him last night. So, it’s not just that he embarrassed him,” I said, and then I realized something. “You know what else, I think I remember something that might be important.”

  “What’s that? Something about the fight.”

  “Well, sort of,” I said. “I was trying not to look at the body today, but I couldn’t help it. It didn’t occur to me until now, but he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring in the water. I saw it on his hand last night. I know I did.”

  “Oh, really,” Trixie said.

  “Yep. So, maybe it wasn’t Jim. It could have been a robbery gone wrong or something.”

  “You think he got killed during a robbery and then they dumped him and his RV in the lake?” Trixie asked.

  “Yeah, like, what if they were going to steal the RV and realized they couldn’t pull it off,” I said.

  “Ooh. That’s interesting,” Trixie said. “But there’s one person I haven’t heard you ask about.”

  “Who’s that?”

  I racked my brain trying to figure out what she could mean. Then it hit me. The one person it was most of the time when someone died.

  The spouse.

  “Tim’s wife,” I said. “Right because she wasn’t dead in the RV too. I heard that she’d called the RV in as missing. Okay, so maybe it was her, but Fiona is so sweet. She comes into the ice cream shop all of the time, and she’s the nicest person. I’ve never gotten bad vibes from her. I just…”

  “It’s okay,” Trixie said. “She’s out of town. She left a few days ago. Word around town was that her sister was having some sort of surgery and she had to take care of her sister’s kids. Boob job.” Trixie threw in the last part with a chuckle.

  “But, if she’s out of town, how did she know the RV was missing?” I asked more to the universe than to Trixie.

  “Maybe one of her friends at the RV park called her and told her. She could have tried to reach Tim and not been able to get ahold of him. She was probably worried and called the police.” Trixie said with a resigned sigh. It didn’t seem like she thought Fiona was the murderer either.

  “Okay, well, she definitely seems more like the type that would take care of her sister’s kids while her sister had plastic surgery than be a murderer,” I said.

  “Boob job,” Trixie corrected.

  “You just like saying that.”

  “What can I say? My sense of humor is very close to that of a thirteen-year-old boy,” Trixie said.

  “I wonder if Jim has heard about Tim’s death yet?”

  “I mean, I’m sure the whole town has heard about it by now,” Trixie said.

  “I know we’ve got these lemonades, but do you feel like having some coffee instead?” I asked.

  “Only if we can get some of those cheddar apple muffins he’s got on special today.”

  We put our glasses of lemonade in the fridge, and I patted Voodoo’s head on the way out the door. He was napping on the sofa, and I didn’t want to disturb him just to go sit outside Hot Bunns on the sidewalk.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I said.

  He cracked one eye halfway open. “Try not to die,” he said and then shut it again.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ve got her back. Don’t worry,” Trixie said and scratched behind his ear.

  We got in the car and I drove us over to the bakery. It was getting close to lunchtime, so we couldn’t park right out front. Instead, we had to park a block and a half away and walk.

  It was fine because it gave me time to steel my nerves. I had the sudden sensation that I really didn’t need to be involved in Tim’s death. Yeah, we’d found the body, but was that really a reason for me to be investigating? By the time we got to the bakery door, I’d decided it was. I’d seen his spirit. It was upset about something, and a restless spirit would only end up causing trouble. I couldn’t just let that go when I could help.

  We went into the bakery and got in line. It was around lunchtime, so the shop was fairly busy. Trixie was eyeing the cheddar apple muffins, but there were plenty in the display case. Unless one of the people in line in front of us ordered several dozen, there would be plenty for us.

  The bakery smelled like heaven. In addition to the coffee and scent of baking bread, you could smell the rich scent of beef stew. I looked at the menu board and saw it was the lunch special of the day.

  Even though the line moved quickly, I started to grow impatient. I hated waiting in line for things. It would have been nice if Trixie and I could have had a conversation, but she was laser focused on the muffins. A couple of times, Jim looked over at us standing in line and glared at me.

  When we got up to the counter, I ordered a bowl of stew and a cheddar apple muffin, and Trixie ordered a half dozen of the cheddar apple muffins. She wasn’t playing around.

  “He seems more agitated that usual,” Trixie said as we sat down at a table near the window. “I mean, Jim is normally a grump that hates women, but did you see the looks he was giving us? It was like he wanted to come over the counter and strangle us.”

  “I mean, he knows we found the body this morning, and he knows I saw him fighting with Tim last night,” I said.

  “You think he knows we’re onto him?”

  “We don’t usually come in here and eat lunch,” I said with a shrug. “Although maybe we should. This stew is amazing.”

  “These muffins are like little gifts from heaven,” Trixie said. “I don’t know how someone so awful can make such delicious food.”

  The bakery started to clear out around the time we were finishing up. My stew was nearly gone and Trixie was polishing off her third muffin when Jim appeared at our table. We’d been chatting and looking out the window, and he startled us.

  “What do you two want?” he asked.

  Before I could answer, Trixie piped up. “Some cheddar apple muffins and the beef stew,” she said. “The muffins are excellent.”

  “You know what I mean,” Jim said through gritted teeth.

  “I’m afraid I don’t,” I said.

  If he was going to make this about Tim, he was going to have to do it. I wasn’t spoon-feeding him anything. If his conscience was guilty, then I would let him slip up.

  “You two never eat lunch here, and the timing seems awfully convenient,” Jim said.

  “The timing? You mean with the cheddar apple muffins? Those are a seasonal special, right?” Trixie said. “They’re my absolute favorite. I wish you’d add them into your regular rotation. In fact, I was thinking of getting a dozen more before we leave.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Jim said to Trixie. “Your little friend here was there last night when that Tim guy attacked me at the bar. Now he’s dead, and the town busybody and her sassy sidekick show up at my bakery right after the body is discovered?”

  “I’m the town busybody?” I asked incredulously. “I would not categorize myself that way.”

  I mean, come on. I’d been involved in one murder investigation. This guy probably just assigned all of Knox Hills’ women with negative female stereotypes.

  “I am pretty sassy, though,” Trixie said with a chuckle. “I do resent the implication that I’m a sidekick. I’m more of a main attraction.”

  “You guys need to get out of my shop,” Jim grumbled. “It looks like you’re done eating, so I figure you’re on your way out.”

  “What about that extra dozen muffins?” Trixie asked with a smile.

  She pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of her purse and held it out to Jim. He studied it for a moment before snatching it from her and grumbling something, probably obscene, under his breath.

  We got up and cleared off the table, and by the time we were done, Jim had a dozen of the muffins boxed up. Trixie retrieved them from the counter, and we headed out. I had no idea if Jim had acted that way because he was guilty or because he was just a grumpy old jerk.

  Two days later was the morning of the funeral. For reasons I didn’t know, Fiona had decided to bury Tim in the Knox Hills Cemetery. I would have thought they’d have wanted to bury him closer to family, but perhaps he didn’t have any. I could understand that feeling.

  Tim and Fiona hadn’t lived in Knox Hills for very long, and I’d thought that they were more transient visitors than permanent residents. Since they’d lived in the RV park, they could have picked up stakes and moved on at any time. I wondered if having the funeral there meant that Fiona intended to stay.

  She had family living somewhere else, because that’s where she’d been when Tim died. I didn’t know what to make of it, but Trixie and I decided to crash the funeral. We wanted to see who showed up and how they acted.

  “What are you going to wear?”

  Trixie was sitting on my bed with Voodoo while I searched through my closet. “Black dress,” I said. “My only issue is that most of my black dresses are ones I wore to parties and stuff. Everything is either too short, or the ones that are long enough are sleeveless.”

  “Do you have a black cardigan?” Trixie asked. “You could wear one of the longer ones and just throw a sweater over it.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I said.

  Trixie didn’t have a black dress that was appropriate for a funeral either. At least not a non-witch funeral. She was dressed in a pair of black slacks with a fitted black sweater. A string of pearls made her look very first lady or Audrey Hepburn. She had her sleek black hair pulled up into a very Audrey-type style.

  “Do I need to wear my hair up?” I asked. “I haven’t been to many funerals since I was a kid.”

  I felt a pang of guilt. It still ate away at me that I’d missed Uncle Leo’s funeral. Let alone that I hadn’t been there when he passed. Or at all for him ever since I was a kid. At least the ice cream shop was still doing well, and I hadn’t destroyed his life’s work.

 

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