Lipstick on a Pig (A Paranormal Cozy Mystery) (Willow Bay Witches Book 4)

Chapter 15

When I got home just before the sun set around eight thirty, I was still fuming about Matt Smith. I was so angry about what he wanted to do with my vet clinic that I forgot to be angry at Bee, who had promptly begged for her dinner as soon as I’d gotten back. I was just scooping her dinner onto her plate when Sophie started talking.

“So I found out the funeral for Jessica Oliver is tomorrow. I figured we should go.”

“And find some new suspects?” I asked. Sophie nodded.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte interrupted. “Don’t you guys feel like it’s a little bit inconsiderate or something to go to someone’s funeral with the sole intention of interrogating people?”

I shrugged. “I figure Jessica Oliver probably won’t mind, since we’re using the information to try and find out who killed her.”

“Plus from what I saw of her, she was a terrible human being, I don’t mind at all,” Sophie continued.

Charlotte shrugged. “Fine. Well you two can go. I have classes tomorrow anyway, so I’ll go do that instead.”

A quick text to Jason and I discovered that he was going to the funeral as well—the murder was still the number one topic of gossip in Willow Bay, after all. From both locals and tourists alike. Circulation for the next issue of the Willow Bay Whistler was going to go through the roof.

“Why don’t you come along, Charlotte, and then you can just cast a truth spell on everyone, and we can just ask them all if they killed Jessica?” Sophie suggested. I smiled to myself slightly as Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“I know you have no idea how magic feels, but it’s not as easy as just pointing your finger and saying words. Magic is hard. There’s a lot of energy expended when you do a spell. I could barely pull one off, if I tried to do more than one truth spell at a time, I guarantee you none of them would work.”

“Fine,” Sophie said, looking a bit dejected. “That certainly would have been an easy way to solve all our problems.”

Charlotte was right, of course. Doing simple spells like unlocking doors took no energy at all, but the harder ones took quite a little bit out of us witches. It was why whenever I did a trick like turning us invisible, I took a break from doing spells for a little while. It was just too exhausting.

“We’re just going to have to do this the old fashioned way,” I told Sophie with a wink. “Like you normal humans do.”

She scowled at me; Sophie didn’t like the fact that her only magical ability was being able to speak to Sprinkles.

“Well I’ve had enough of being made to feel like a second class citizen for one night, what do you say we go for a quick walk, Sprinkles?”

Sprinkles, who had been apparently asleep in front of the mantle, was up like a shot.

“A walk?” he said enthusiastically. “Of course I’m up for a walk! Anytime! You’re the best owner ever, Sophie. I love you so much!”

I smiled as he danced circles around Sophie’s legs as she laughed and walked toward the door. “I love you too, Sprinkles,” she told him. A few minutes later they were outside; I could see Sprinkles’ tail happily wagging from side to side as he sniffed the bushes outside the front of the house, checking to see if any other dogs had been in the area in the few hours it had been since his last walk.

“He’s an embarrassment to all self-respecting animals everywhere,” Bee muttered from her spot on top of her cat tree, looking out the window.

“Yeah, well, at least one of us has an affectionate and loving pet,” I told Bee, who rolled over onto her back.

“You can pet me,” she told me.

“When I try, you bite me.”

“Only when you do it wrong.”

I rolled my eyes. I decided maybe I’d drop Bee off at Gloria’s the next day before the funeral. As much as I teased Bee for being a drama queen, I loved my cat, and I knew she was missing her boyfriend.

At eleven the next day Bee was safely at Buster’s place, and I had a headache.

“Where are we going? Why are we going to the car?”

“I told you, I’m taking you to Buster’s place.”

“Are you sure? That sounds like a lie. You’re lying to me, aren’t you? We’re going to the vet. Ohhhh God we’re going to the vet.”

“I am your vet, remember? And the office is closed. So no, you’re not going to the vet. Now get in the car quietly before I change my mind.”

Thankfully, at that point, Bee had hopped into the back seat of the car and settled into her usual spot. I rolled my eyes at Sophie, who grinned.

“Bee’s being a bit dramatic this morning?” she asked.

“She thinks she’s going to the vet.”

“She comes to the vet clinic with us every day.”

“I know,” I sighed. Fifteen minutes later, and Bee was happily at Gloria’s house. I promised to come pick her up later and thanked Gloria, who assured me it was no trouble. A couple minutes later, Sophie and I were back on the road, headed just up the road to Wawnee, where Jessica Oliver had apparently grown up, and where the funeral was taking place.

The church in Wawnee was small, and already pretty much filled when we got there. The church was done up in the typical Oregon style—made of wood painted white, it could have almost passed for a house if it wasn’t for the tall steeple at the front of the building and the large stained glass windows that lined the side of the building evenly. Most of the attendees seemed to be curious folk looking for more gossip fodder. I spotted Antonia deLucca on the far end of the church, dressed in black from head to toe. She looked suspiciously like a panther, stalking her prey as she hunted for more juicy tidbits with which to start rumors in town the next day.

I saw Jason interviewing a woman at the entrance to the church, who looked like she was enjoying being quoted by a journalist way too much. I waved at him as we snuck past into the church—which was standing room only. That suited Sophie and I fine; while standing we had a much better view of the room anyway. We both stood against the side wall of the church.

Despite the fact that Jessica Oliver hadn’t exactly endeared herself to me for the few minutes that I’d known her, I felt a small pang of sorrow as I looked to the front of the church, where a glossy oak coffin was covered in flowers, with a large framed photo of Jessica on an easel next to it. The photo was taken on the beach, and Jessica was smiling. She might have been a witch—with a capital B—but she still hadn’t deserved to die at the hands of a serial killer.

I let my gaze drift across the room. In the front row was a woman in tears, her hand being held by a girl who looked almost exactly like Jessica. That must have been her sister, and her mother. A few rows back sat Jonathan Cork. His eyes were dry, but he was staring so intently at a spot on the wall behind the coffin that I was sure he was only moments away from breaking down himself—which I knew he wanted to avoid seeing as how he was only supposed to be her boss, not her lover.

Two rows back from Jonathan Smith sat his secretary, dressed in a dark green suit with a black hat today. She looked at him with concern, her hands folded primly in her lap. Standing against the wall at the end of that row were the two Forrester brothers who worked at the law firm. One row behind Smith’s secretary sat Annie Barclay, the woman Sophie had impersonated for a while, and three other stone-faced people who I assumed must have been other lawyers at the firm. One was the good looking man who had asked for a meeting with Lester Forrester. The other two I didn’t recognize.

Behind them sat the receptionist, and the interns, who I couldn’t help but notice weren’t exactly thrilled to be there. One of them was playing on her phone, and the others were huddled together, talking to each other. They were the ones who spent the most time with Jessica Oliver out of everyone at the firm, but I had a feeling they weren’t exactly grieving her death.

Just then, a man came out and the service started. Sophie and I listened dutifully while he thanked everyone for coming and spoke for an hour about how amazing a person Jessica was. Her sister spoke of a kind, caring woman who would have done anything for anyone, but she was the only one to eulogize Jessica Oliver. Her mother sobbed in the front row, and by the time the funeral ended I was feeling a little bit down myself.

After the service ended, Sophie and I left the church and split up. I made my way toward the group of interns.

“Hi,” I greeted. “That was a hell of a service, wasn’t it?” I offered, and one of the girls snorted.

“I was just amazed that they found even one person other than her mom who could say a nice thing about her.” The others nodded in agreement.

“So I see you weren’t fans of hers?”

“No. We only came because our bosses said we had to come. Yeah, right Cork just wanted everyone to come so he could tell his wife he had to be here.”

“So she didn’t know about his affair?”

The other girls giggled. “Nope,” one of them replied. “Definitely not. She’s not the sharpest tool in the shed to begin with, but with Andrew and Lester doing their best to hide it from her, she has no chance of finding out. How do you know about the affair, anyway?”

“Oh, my sister goes to school with Jessica,” I offered. What? At least it wasn’t a lie. “They knew each other, and everyone knows about the affair.”

“Figures, I bet someone like her would be bragging about it all over campus.”

“So Lester and Andrew Forrester were doing their best to cover up the affair?” I asked. This was interesting new information.

“Yeah,” one of the interns replied. “I walked in on Lester one day when he was on the phone to his other brother. He said he was tired of covering up for Cork, and that they had to do something about it before he caused a scandal that would bring down the firm.”

“They’re personal injury lawyers,” I said. “Aren’t those supposed to be the lowest of the low?”

Two of the interns laughed. “That’s what we thought too. But apparently they actually have a good reputation. They do a lot of medical malpractice, that sort of thing. Plus with the amount of money they bring in, they’re totally loaded. That’s why Lester and Andrew are so focused on hiding Jonathan’s affairs anyway. They know that if the wife finds out and divorces him, it’s going to cost the firm not only their reputation, but a whole lot of money, since he’s a partner.”

“I guess that’s all moot now that Jessica’s dead though,” one of the other interns replied.

“That won’t stop him. Guys like that, they can’t help themselves. Don’t worry, he’ll find another hot blonde pretty soon. Hey, Sally, doesn’t that describe you pretty well?” the first intern teased the other one.

“Ewww, don’t even go there,” she replied. “He’s so old and gross.”

I made a swift exit and went to find Sophie. When I repeated everything I’d found out, she let out a low whistle.

“Wow. So I guess you’re thinking that the Forrester brothers might have killed the three women just so Cork’s wife wouldn’t find out about them?”

I nodded. “Yeah. You’d think it would be easier just to get rid of Cork himself. But what do I know, I’m not a serial killer.”

“Do you think they’re both in on it, or just the one?”

I bit my lip as I paused to think about the question. “I don’t know,” I finally replied. “I’d like to think just one. After all, how exactly do you partner up with someone in a situation like this? Do you think one of them just went to the other ‘hey I think we should start murdering our business partner’s girlfriends, are you in?’ What if the other one says no?”

Sophie giggled. “I don’t think they’re generally that obvious about it. But I know what you mean. I think it could be both of them. Did you feel the urge to murder someone when you were in Lester Forrester’s body?”

“No, but of course, the magic doesn’t work that way,” I replied. “Regardless, I know Gary Forrester, the third brother, doesn’t know anything. Lester denied knowing anything about the murders to him when Jason and I were eavesdropping, so if he is involved, he hasn’t told his brother.”

“Bummer. That could have solved everything for us.”

“There they go,” I said suddenly, noticing the two men heading away from the funeral. Their heads were close together, and they were obviously deep in conversation.

“Obviously we’re going to follow them,” Sophie said.

“Charlotte would totally tell us how terrible an idea this is,” I said.

“Well then it’s a good thing she’s not here, isn’t it?” Sophie said as we made our way toward the two men.