Karma Camellia: Village Flower Shop Cozy Mysteries by Nancy Warren

Author:Nancy Warren [Warren, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ambleside Publishing
Published: 2022-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

It was hard to concentrate at work the next day. Images of the wolf flashed through my mind. Startling gray-blue eyes penetrating mine. At the hospital, Mick had described the dog to the incredulous staff, and I’d watched as he was wheeled away. The police arrived and said they’d come to take statements from us both tomorrow after they’d had a chance to interview Mick.

We returned home, exhausted. Char was shaken up and went to bed early.

I’d asked Norman to keep an eye on her during the night. “Time to earn your familiar stripes,” I’d said, and for once, Norman quit playing the fool and took his job seriously.

Maybe too seriously.

He’d been acting peculiar all morning, sitting solemnly inside the window of Bewitching Blooms, watching the high street. At first, I’d thought he was looking out for Char. But his gaze was too unfocused. No wisecracks. No demands for food. He was eerily quiet.

“Come on now, you’re spooking me,” I said, trying to cajole him from whatever funk had taken hold. “That last customer had a piece of toilet roll stuck to her shoe the whole time she was choosing those tulips. And no wisecrack from you? Was it too easy or something? Tell me what’s up?”

Norman preened himself and then hung his head. “Dolores wasn’t much, but I lived with her. Can’t believe she’s gone.”

It was the last thing I was expecting Norman to say. Maybe my witchy intuition didn’t extend to parrots. I told him I was sorry; it hadn’t occurred to me that he might be fond of his previous person. I couldn’t say owner, as I didn’t think anyone could own Norman. He was his own bird. He’d seemed pretty keen to get away from Dolores and attach himself to Char, and that’s exactly what had happened. He used those colorful wings to steer his own destiny.

“She wasn’t much,” he said. “But she looked after me when I was between witches. Maybe if I’d been with her, I could have saved her. Pooped in that little schmuck’s eyes so he couldn’t see to kill her.”

A laugh was surprised out of me on a day when I hadn’t expected to laugh. A killer swayed from his mission by parrot poop? Now that would be a headline for Willowers Weekly. Maybe all that target practice had been for a reason. But Norman’s guilt was almost more than I could stand. Between Char’s certainty, and my own gut instinct, I wasn’t convinced that Mick did kill Dolores. Even with the pain of his wounded leg, Mick had stuck to his story, desperate to convince us of his innocence. I sensed he was telling the truth. I shared my feelings with Norman, who was pretty skeptical. I feared that was how the police would see things, too. It would be so easy to put Dolores’ death down to Mick and his past mistakes. But maybe Norman could help me.

“Do you know who else might have had it in for Dolores?” I asked.

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