Part 10 (2/2)
”I do not,” she answered. ”Which is why you'll find no marijuana on these premises.”
Nicholas said nothing. He merely turned his gaze to the gap in the hanging bundles of dried herbs.
”It is my belief, however,” Miranda continued, ”that folk medicine belongs to the people, not to a medical board. I said as much to Mrs. Hooper when she threatened to bring the drug squad down on me.”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. ”She threatened you, did she?”
”I'd insulted her twice in the course of one conversation, darling. She couldn't allow me to get away scot-free, could she, Seraphina?” Miranda scooped the black cat up from the ottoman. ”She lost her temper-and her charm-and tried to frighten us. We told her to bring the drug squad to tea, didn't we, my sweet?” Miranda cradled Seraphina on her shoulder.
”I wonder . . .” Nicholas rubbed his jaw. ”Do you think she threatened anyone else in Finch?”
”Everyone, I should imagine,” said Miranda. ”She couldn't help herself. Her spirit was distorted, twisted, ravaged by fear. Fear makes some people timid-look at what it's done to poor George-but it turns others into devouring monsters.”
”What was she afraid of?” I asked.
”Everything, anything . . .” Miranda fluttered her fingers nonchalantly. ”She needed to be in control of every situation, darling, and she used any means at her disposal to gain the upper hand.”
”Lies, threats, intimidation,” Nicholas murmured.
”That's not all.” Miranda's green eyes drifted lazily toward Nicholas. ”Just ask Peggy Taxman.”
Nicholas stiffened, but his voice betrayed only a faint perplexity.
”I understood that Mrs. Taxman and Mrs. Hooper were old friends,” he said. ”Aunt Lilian told me that they knew each other when they lived in Birmingham.”
”Peggy's distraught over Mrs. Hooper's death,” I added. ”She visits the grave every day. Lilian told us that she must be spending a small fortune on flowers.”
Miranda tossed her head dismissively. ”Guilt gelt and crocodile tears. If you ask me, she visits the grave in order to rea.s.sure herself that Mrs. Hooper is still dead.”
”You must know something we don't know,” Nicholas said. ”Care to share it?”
Instead of answering directly, Miranda asked a question in return. ”Did you know that Peggy allowed Mrs. Hooper to live in Crabtree Cottage gratis?” She rolled the r in gratis to give it extra emphasis.
”Peggy wasn't collecting rent?” I asked.
”I knew it would surprise you,” said Miranda.
I turned to Nicholas. ”I've never known Peggy Taxman to give anything away for free.”
”She did this time.” Miranda nuzzled Seraphina's ears. ”I overheard Peggy and her husband going at it one day in the Emporium's back room. Jasper was indignant. He wanted to know why Mrs. Hooper was living in the cottage free of charge. Not only that . . .” Miranda smiled lazily. ”It seems the accounts weren't balancing properly. Certain sums of money had gone missing, and Jasper wanted to know what Peggy had done with them. The spat suggested a certain something to me. Can you guess what it is?”
I was stumped, but Nicholas wasn't.
”Blackmail,” he said promptly.
”You'd make a yummy constable.” Miranda puckered her lips in his direction. ”So quick off the mark with deductions. But I'm afraid they'd make you trim your lovely hair, which in itself would be a crime.”
”I a.s.sume you reached the same conclusion,” Nicholas said patiently.
”Mrs. Hooper was a charter member of Backstabbers Anonymous,” Miranda declared. ”The only thing she used friends for was target practice.”
”Mrs. Hooper was blackmailing Peggy?” I said, scrambling to catch up.
”Well done, Lori. Slow but steady wins the race.” Miranda spoke lightly, but her eyes were deadly serious. ”I believe that Mrs. Hooper threatened to reveal something Peggy didn't want broadcast, some naughtiness from the good old days in Birmingham, perhaps. Peggy thought Crabtree Cottage would buy her old chum's silence, but I'll wager that Mrs. Hooper wanted more.”
”Hence the missing sums of money,” said Nicholas.
”Malevolent creatures like Mrs. Hooper always want more.” Miranda returned Seraphina to the ottoman. ”Ignorant people call them witches. I can think of a more appropriate term.”
”Thank you, Miranda.” Nicholas got to his feet and put a hand out to help me to mine. ”I've enjoyed our conversation.”
”I spoke to you for Kit's sake,” Miranda stated flatly. ”I've glimpsed his spirit, too, and it's pure as the driven snow. I won't have him hara.s.sed.”
”I'm grateful nonetheless,” said Nicholas. ”I hope we'll meet again.”
”You can bring the drug squad with you to tea.” Miranda's green eyes twinkled as she walked us to the door. They twinkled more happily still when Nicholas held my jacket for me while I slipped into it.
”It's a pity Mrs. Hooper died when she did,” she commented. ”She would have had a field day with the two of you.” She paused. ”But in your case, my pets, I wonder . . . Would she have been lying?”
”Miranda,” I began, but Nicholas interrupted.
”She's teasing us, Lori,” he said. ”Aren't you, Miranda?”
”I read auras, darling,” she replied. ”And yours is . . . most revealing.”
When we reached the thorn hedge, Nicholas paused for another look at Briar Cottage.
”You're convinced that Miranda had marijuana hanging from the rafters.” I tried to sound businesslike, as if Nicholas's aura was of no concern to me. ”You think she got rid of it after Mrs. Hooper issued her threats.”
”It's a distinct possibility,” Nicholas allowed. ”As Mr. Wetherhead pointed out, witches know how to protect themselves. Our witch seems to have protected herself by employing the simple expedient of covering her tracks.”
”Can we scratch her from our list of murder suspects?” I asked.
”Definitely.” Nicholas opened the squeaky gate. ”If Miranda Morrow had killed Mrs. Hooper, the coroner's verdict would have been natural causes.”
Chapter 16.
Nicholas and I agreed to put off speaking with Peggy Taxman until the next day. My energy was beginning to flag and I still had a three-mile bike ride ahead of me. By the time I reached the cottage, I knew I'd be in desperate need of a hot bath, a hearty lunch, and a long nap.
Nicholas, too, was in need of a break. We'd acc.u.mulated a lot of information in a short amount of time. He wanted to spend the rest of the day cogitating and, I suspected, enjoying a pleasant doze in the vicar's study.
I left him at the vicarage and went to collect my things from Wysteria Lodge. I let myself in through the front door this time. It didn't matter much if people saw me. My cover was already blown.
The moment I entered the office, I made a beeline for the desk, picked up the telephone, and punched in Bill's London number. I wanted to tell him about the stakeout and the morning's interviews, but most of all, I wanted to hear his voice. My head, and probably my aura, were too full of Nicholas. I needed to reclaim s.p.a.ce for my husband.
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