Midlife Curses: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Mystery (Witching Hour Book 1) by Christine Zane Thomas

Author:Christine Zane Thomas [Thomas, Christine Zane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-23T04:00:00+00:00

16

In Witch We Learn Who’s the Boss?

We convened the next morning at the front of the store, between the cash registers and the aisles. We had just enough space for all of the employees. Workers from all shifts, some I’d yet to meet, and others I knew, like Trish. Hal was there too.

He made a beeline for me, muttering to himself, like when he put his number in my phone. That was a phone call I’d never be making.

Just when I thought Trish’s protection spell didn’t work, Hal stopped abruptly and went the other way.

Whew. That was one bullet dodged. Now, to see what this meeting was all about.

“All right, now. Let’s quiet down.” Sheriff Marsters—Dave—stood between my and Trish’s registers, addressing the throng of Caulfield Grocery employees. “I know you’re wondering what’s going on, and why you’re here. And probably who the heck this guy is.”

Dave pointed at Cyrus Tadros, the man Trish and I met the day I discovered Mr. Caulfield’s body.

Cyrus, who’d nodded along with Dave’s words, kept nodding, apparently expecting the sheriff to give more of an introduction.

Dave looked at him expectantly.

“Oh, that’s my cue?” Cyrus asked.

Dave grunted.

Maybe I was reading too much into things, but something was off. The way they eyed each other showed tension between them. But whether it was about the murder or something else, I wasn’t sure.

I nudged Trish and tried to whisper a question.

She shushed me before I got anything out. “Shh. I want to hear this.”

“I guess that’s my cue,” Cyrus said. “That’s one way to do it. Not exactly what I would’ve done, but anyway… What the sheriff was trying to say is I have the answers you’re waiting for.

“First off, you’re probably wondering if you still have a job. The answer to that question is yes—yes, you all have jobs at Caulfield Grocery.”

He cleared his throat. “Now, Mr. Caulfield didn’t have any relatives. He never made a will and his estate will have to be settled by a court, which will almost certainly take years. But the city council was concerned and petitioned for a temporary executor to be appointed. My name was suggested—”

“By you,” Dave said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Right, well, I did see this as an opportunity,” Cyrus replied primly. “Not only financially, I think this might be a great way of getting to know the community outside of the vineyard.”

“The vineyard?” someone from the peanut gallery asked.

“Oh, that’s right. Real introductions.” He glared at Dave, who was on his way out. “My name is Cyrus Tadros. My father was Edward Armand—the owner of Armand Vineyards.”

There were a few nods and some mumbling.

Scanning the crowd, I took stock of everyone. I saw a few shocked faces. Maybe, like me, they didn’t know the vineyard was still operational.

Jade Gerwig, the butcher, was glaring at me. She held my eyes until I was so uncomfortable I had to look away. And when I looked back, her beady black eyes were still locked on mine. A chill ran down my spine.

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