Chapter 6
A heady floral scent hit and variety of autumn colors greeted me as soon as I walked into Bewitching Blossoms. Roses, chrysanthemums, marigolds, and many more whose names I didn’t know filled the shelves and vases to my left under a sign called Autumn’s Harvest, their petals ranging from red to orange to yellow.
There was even a section of black, orange, and white flowers called “Boo-quets” but once you made it past the fall-themed things, blues, purples, pinks, and greens also popped up in the store.
“Wow,” I breathed, stopping to take it all in. I passed a row of silvery flowers, and when I brushed my finger against the velvety petal, the flower crooned a lullaby.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Riley said.
I jumped at his sudden appearance. “You really need to stop popping out of nowhere.”
“Or you need to pay better attention.” He grinned.
“You’re in an awfully good mood.”
“That’s what a delicious cup of coffee will do to a person.” He presented a bouquet of white lilies, rust-colored chrysanthemums, and flowers with golden petals that slowly curled and uncurled. He also held a single red tulip that didn’t quite seem to go with the others. “What do you think?”
“That you drink too much coffee.”
“I meant about the flowers.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“Perfect.” He walked toward the check-out counter.
The employee, a woman whose name tag read Mrs. Martin, smiled at us as we approached. “What a lovely selection you have,” she said as she wrapped the flowers. “Do you want these all together, or do you want the tulip separate?”
“Separate, please.” Riley leaned an arm on the counter and selected a card. “It was difficult to choose a bouquet considering all the flowers you have here are lovely.”
“They’re all grown at my son’s farm.” Mrs. Martin beamed with pride.
While Riley wrote a note to go with the flowers, I glanced over a flier on the counter that talked about the fresh produce and flowers produced at Abbey-Mill farm by someone called Robert Martin. That must’ve been the son that Mrs. Martin spoke about.
“Are these for your girlfriend?” the woman continued after a minute with a smile in my direction.
I flushed. “Oh, I’m not—”
“Not all of them,” Riley told her before winking at me. He picked up the lone tulip and handed it to me with a flourish. “Just this one.”
Mrs. Martin’s grin widened. “That is an excellent choice. In the language of flowers, red tulips are a declaration of love.”
“Thank you.” I accepted it without looking at Riley, my cheeks burning even as I reminded myself that it wasn’t real. Surely Riley hadn’t known what that tulip meant when he’d picked it. And even if he had, it didn’t matter.
“Please send the rest to 114 Maple Hollow Lane with this card.” Riley passed her the paper.
I squinted at the card, trying to place the familiar address as we walked out together. The autumn wind whipped up the edge of my scarf, and I tightened my grip on the tulip.
“Why did you do that?” I tried to fight off the smile pulling at my lips so I could give Riley a stern look. “Now she probably thinks that we’re dating.”
“It’s fine, isn’t it? It’s not like it’ll hurt anyone,” he said. “No burn, no bother.”
Was that like no harm, no foul?
“Besides, I wouldn’t mind giving people a different reason to gossip about you.” He gave me a slow smile.
I looked away before he could see the flush creeping up my cheeks.
I wasn’t the sister people usually talked about or wanted.
It was probably the potion talking, which meant I’d need an extra dose of patience to deal with Riley today.
Sure, it was his fault he’d eaten that stupid love potion—one I wished I’d never brewed—but he’d done it for me, and I needed to remember that.
At least it would wear off in six more days, and the truth potion would only last a few more hours.
With any luck, that might make him a little less flirty.
“What do you want to do first?” I bit my lip, then added, “I was thinking it would be good if we visited Graham’s apartment and talked to his roommate at some point.”
“I thought the same thing. The roommate should definitely be on our list.”
“I don’t think Jaxon did anything,” I said. “I just wanted to get more info from him.”
Riley smiled. “Then let’s head there and see what info we can gather.”
I stopped and stared at Riley as the pieces clicked together. That was it—the address from earlier. “You sent flowers to Graham’s parents’ house.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because even though Clara just lost her son, she was willing to speak to me this morning, and I wanted to show my appreciation for her time and my sorrow for her loss.”
“That’s really nice of you.” I looked at the sidewalk, trying to hide my relief that he’d gone to see her without me.
Clara was one of those moms who made it worth marrying their son just so you could be part of her family.
Even if Graham didn’t always get along with her, she’d loved me.
I couldn’t bear the thought of facing her now in case she thought I had anything to do with what happened to Graham.
I couldn’t see her until I’d figured out the truth and gotten her the answers she deserved.
I studied Riley from the corner of my eye.
He met my gaze. “What?”
“You just seem awfully on top of things. First at the bookshop, then finding me outside Elaine’s, and now you’ve already met Graham’s mother.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something he wasn’t telling me.
“Like I said, I have a nose for a good story.” He tapped his nose. “And did you get anything accomplished today while I was out sleuthing?”
“Actually, I did.” I pulled the timeline from my pocket and unfolded it with a quiet rustle.
His gaze skimmed over it, his eyebrows shooting up as he took in the timeline. “This is very thorough,” he said. “I can tell you and Lizzy are related.”
I winced at the casual mention of Lizzy, of how I was never enough to be my own person. Even the love potion wasn’t enough to make Riley forget his feelings for my sister—not that I wanted him to.
And who wouldn’t like Lizzy? She was beautiful, confident, witty, and had no trouble making up her mind. Sometimes Jane said she made up her mind too easily, but I’d take that over my indecisiveness any day.
“I talked to Graham’s manager at work,” Riley said, pulling me from my thoughts. “She said he got off work at 5:00, and that he was completely normal when he left.”
“That narrows it down a bit for us.” I took the list back and updated it.
“And it gives us a three-hour window to look into, which matches the information I got from Graham’s mother.” Riley glanced at me. “Do you know who might’ve wanted him dead?”
“Actually, I might.” As we walked, I repeated what Mayor Pembroke had mentioned. “So I think looking into Caleb is as good a place to start as any.”
“True. We can do that next.”
“When we get there, let me do the talking,” I told Riley as Graham’s brick apartment building came into view. “I’m friends with his roommate.”
Riley studied me for a long moment, but then nodded as we stopped outside their door. “Why does Graham live with a roommate when his parents are just a few minutes’ drive away?”
“He always said he wanted to be more independent, so he moved out after his freshman year.” I knocked on the door, then stepped back.
The black cat decoration in the window glared at me as we waited, and yellow police tape clung to the side of the house, matching the color of the row of maples in front of the house.
I breathed in the smell of the crisp autumn air tinged with wood smoke from a fireplace a few doors down.
Moments later, Jaxon opened the door. His eyes widened, and he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. His usually sunny smile was dimmed. “Hey, Kitty. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“I know.” I ducked my head. I hadn’t been over since Graham and I broke up a month and a half ago.
“Who is this?” Jaxon jerked his head toward Riley.
“Jaxon, this is my… friend, Riley. Riley, this is Jaxon, Graham’s roommate and an old friend.”
“Hi, I’m Riley the friend.” Riley stuck out his hand.
I jabbed him with my elbow and hissed, “Stop being misleading.”
Jaxon studied Riley for a minute, then shook his hand and gave him a single solemn nod.
“I was hoping to talk to you,” I told Jaxon.
His gaze swiveled back to me. “I’m guessing you heard what happened then?”
“I did,” I said, “and I heard you were the one who found him.”
Jaxon closed his eyes and swallowed hard, then nodded. “Yes,” he whispered hoarsely.
“I’m so sorry.” I put a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better.”
“I hate to ask this, but… where was Graham found?” Sympathy tinged Riley’s voice.
Jaxon pointed a shaky finger around the side of the house. “He was outside.”
That made sense considering all the police officers had been outside.
“We also heard he was poisoned.” Riley watched Jaxon closely.
Jaxon’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t realized that was already getting around.” He looked from side to side, then waved us in. “Let’s talk indoors. The town already has enough to gossip about without us providing more fodder.”
Inside, the furniture was the same as the day they moved in: a threadbare couch, a tiny kitchen table, and a few wooden chairs.
The only thing the guys had brought of their own was the giant television screen and their game consoles.
And someone—my guess was Jaxon—had attempted to decorate for Halloween.
A few textbooks sat on the coffee table under a small plastic cauldron filled with candy, and an inflatable ghost stood guard by the door.
Despite the bowl of candy corn on the table, it smelled like microwave popcorn.
Riley leaned closer, his voice loud enough for only me to hear. “I was prepared for the crime scene tape and the poorly furnished college apartment, but not for how cute you’d look when you went into detective mode.”