Death of a Wicked Witch Read online

  THE PRIME SUSPECT

  “Cloris Fennow hated the fact that she had new competition in town, and was very upset that the Garbers hired Trudy instead of her to work the Witches Ball, but she swears she was nowhere near the Garber house when Trudy died,” Sergio continued.

  “Where was she?” Hayley asked.

  “Home,” Sergio said.

  Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Alone?”

  Sergio nodded. “Yes.”

  “That’s what I call a flimsy alibi,” Hayley scoffed. “Did she have anything to say about poisoning poor Trudy so she would get sick and be unable to work the Witches Ball?”

  “No, because we have no concrete proof Cloris was the one responsible for making Trudy sick, so it’s just a suspicion at this point,” Sergio said.

  Hayley was not satisfied at all.

  She was now determined to prove that Cloris Fennow had targeted Trudy by poisoning her, and then, when that didn’t work, tampering with her propane tank and trapping her inside her own truck with the express purpose of killing her competition...

  Books by Lee Hollis

  Hayley Powell Mysteries

  DEATH OF A KITCHEN DIVA

  DEATH OF A COUNTRY FRIED REDNECK

  DEATH OF A COUPON CLIPPER

  DEATH OF A CHOCOHOLIC

  DEATH OF A CHRISTMAS CATERER

  DEATH OF A CUPCAKE QUEEN

  DEATH OF A BACON HEIRESS

  DEATH OF A PUMPKIN CARVER

  DEATH OF A LOBSTER LOVER

  DEATH OF A COOKBOOK AUTHOR

  DEATH OF A WEDDING CAKE BAKER

  DEATH OF A BLUEBERRY TART

  DEATH OF A WICKED WITCH

  Collections

  EGGNOG MURDER

  (with Leslie Meier and Barbara Ross)

  YULE LOG MURDER

  (with Leslie Meier and Barbara Ross)

  HAUNTED HOUSE MURDER

  (with Leslie Meier and Barbara Ross)

  Poppy Harmon Mysteries

  POPPY HARMON INVESTIGATES

  POPPY HARMON AND THE HUNG JURY

  Maya & Sandra Mysteries

  MURDER AT THE PTA

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  DEATH of a WICKED WITCH

  Lee Hollis

  KENSINGTON BOOKS

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2020 by Rick Copp and Holly Simason

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  First Kensington Books Mass Market Paperback Printing: August 2020

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-2495-3

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-2496-0 (ebook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4967-2496-8 (ebook)

  Table of Contents

  THE PRIME SUSPECT

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 1

  “Wicked ’Wiches,” Hayley said, reading the business card that had just been handed to her. She glanced up at the pretty woman with long curly blond hair wearing a pink halter top and studded jean jacket, who stood in front of her desk at the Island Times office, a large carryall tote bag slung over her shoulder. “What kind of business is this?”

  “Food truck,” the woman said, smiling.

  Hayley’s face lit up. “I’ve always dreamed that one day we’d get another food truck in town! We’ve only had one for the longest time! Are you planning to be open all winter? Because I’ll tell you, we are desperate around here for someplace to get a decent lunch during the winter! Practically every restaurant closes down once the summer tourists leave!”

  “Well, I’m going to give it a go, but I guess it depends on how much business I get. But I’ll try to stay open at least through the New Year.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do just fine, especially once word gets around. Now, do you want to place an ad?”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, I want to raise awareness as soon as possible and be up and going before Halloween. I was hoping to get an ad in for tomorrow.”

  “Unfortunately we’re about to go to press with tomorrow’s paper so I’m not sure I can get it in on time, but I certainly will make sure it’s in Friday’s edition.”

  “That will be fine. I scribbled down what I’d like to say on the back of the card.”

  Hayley turned over the card and read the woman’s ad copy. Wicked ’Wiches . . . Our Subs Are Pure Magic. “Cute, but it doesn’t say where people can find you.”

  “That’s because I’m still waiting on my permit to set up shop down on the town pier. In the meantime, I’m just going to go where there is enough space to park my truck until someone kicks me out.”

  “I promise the police won’t make you move if you give them a few of your wicked ’wiches on the house. I know the chief personally. He’s my brother-in-law.”

  “It’s always good to know people in high places,” the woman said before extending a hand. “I’m Trudy Lancaster.”

  Hayley shook it. “Hayley Powell. Pleasure to meet you, Trudy. So tell me, besides delicious sandwiches, what else do you serve?”

  “I’ve got a full working grill so I also do hamburgers, hot dogs, French fries, all the comfort food staples, but my specialty subs are my best sellers. I have a Tokyo Sub with roast beef and honey wasabi mayo, a Texas Turkey with barbecue sauce and grilled onions, my Hawaiian’s popular with ham and cheese, pineapple and teriyaki sauce...”

  “My mouth is watering already,” Hayley moaned.

  Trudy leaned over Hayley’s desk and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Tell you what, Hayley. You work your magic to get my ad in for tomorrow, and I’ll go out to my truck and bring you back my top-selling jalapeño cheddar chicken meatball sandwich.”

  Hayley’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. She quickly checked
the clock on the wall. “Deal. Done. Go. I have, like, two minutes to make it.”

  Trudy turned and hightailed it out of the office as Hayley furiously tapped the keyboard of her desktop computer. By the time Trudy returned with a delectable-smelling savory sub wrapped in yellow paper, Hayley had successfully managed to place Trudy’s advertisement.

  Hayley eagerly reached out for the sandwich and Trudy playfully withheld it from her. “Did you make it?”

  “With about two seconds to spare!” Hayley said, grabbing the sandwich and gleefully unwrapping it. “It smells wonderful!”

  Trudy folded her arms, anxiously waiting for Hayley to try her creation.

  After taking a big bite, Hayley moaned orgasmi-cally. “Oh, Trudy... Oh... Wow...”

  “Glad you like it,” Trudy said, beaming.

  Hayley chewed and swallowed and then wiped the sides of her mouth with a napkin Trudy had provided with the sandwich. “I have a strong feeling we’re going to be fast friends.”

  “Good, because my husband and I just moved to town a few days ago and we barely know anyone.”

  “Well, I know pretty much everybody in town so I can change that. What brought you to Bar Harbor?”

  “My husband, Ted, is a minister and he’s been hired to take over at the Congregational church.”

  “I had heard rumors Reverend Staples was thinking about retiring, but I never thought he would get around to actually doing it.”

  “Ted is going to observe him for a few weeks before he officially takes the reins,” Trudy said, watching happily as Hayley took another big bite of her sandwich, closing her eyes and moaning some more.

  Hayley tried to speak, but her mouth was so full she couldn’t, and she had to wait until she could chew enough to swallow again. “I’m sure you and Ted have a lot to do having just moved here, but once you get settled, maybe we can plan a dinner with you, Ted, me and my husband, Bruce—”

  Trudy’s eyes lit up. “How about tomorrow night?”

  “That soon?”

  “Like I said, we don’t know anybody and I’m starved for good wine and good conversation.”

  “Well, I can guarantee good wine. As for the conversation, you’ll just have to wait and see how Bruce and I do.”

  Sal Moretti barreled into the front office from the back bullpen, his nose sniffing, and bellowed, “What’s that smell?”

  “Sal, this is Trudy Lancaster. She and her husband—”

  Sal ignored her and zeroed in on the sandwich lying on Hayley’s desk. “What is that?”

  “A sandwich,” Hayley said, smiling at Trudy.

  Sal rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know that, Hayley, but where did it come from?”

  Hayley gestured toward Trudy. “Trudy brought it in. She just moved to town and she owns a food truck.”

  Sal’s face brightened just as Hayley’s had at this welcome news. “Where is it?”

  “Parked right outside,” Hayley said, chuckling.

  Sal pushed past Trudy and looked out the window. “I’ve been wishing for years we’d get another food truck in town besides that rude Cloris Fennow’s with her stale bread.”

  “See, Trudy?” Hayley said, grinning. “Your husband may be the new minister, but you’re the one who is answering everyone’s prayers.”

  Sal reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his pants and pulled out a twenty. “Do you make Italian grinders?”

  Trudy nodded. “With my very own homemade Italian dressing.”

  “With extra pepperoncinis?” Sal asked, almost drooling.

  “Coming right up!”

  Sal pumped her hand and finally offered her a smile. “Sal Moretti, nice to meet you.”

  “Trudy Lancaster.”

  “Now make it quick, Trudy,” Sal said, back to his usual gruff self. “I have to leave here by five to interview a town council member and I don’t want to be rushed eating my sub.”

  Sal turned his back on them and marched back to his office without saying another word.

  Hayley shrugged. “I swear he will grow on you. Eventually.”

  Chapter 2

  If Hayley thought she had an immediate connection with Trudy Lancaster when they had met at the Island Times office a day earlier, it paled in comparison to Bruce’s instant bonding with Trudy’s husband, Ted. Ted was tall, lanky, and handsome in an offbeat sort of way, probably gawky as a kid, but had grown nicely into his looks. She was also surprised that he was in his mid-forties since Trudy was at the very least a decade younger. But the couple seemed to fit perfectly well together and Hayley found both of them utterly charming.

  From the moment Bruce and Ted shook hands as they met in the parking lot of Mama DiMatteo’s restaurant at the top of Rodick Street, the two men found themselves immersed in a lively discussion involving a variety of topics including politics, sports, and the best rock bands of the 1970s and ‘80s, with Bruce arguing the merits of Fleetwood Mac and Ted defending the legacy of the harder-edged Led Zeppelin.

  Hayley and Trudy exchanged smiles and chose to take a backseat to the conversation in order to allow these two new buddies to get to know each other. As Hayley took the last few bites of her garlic-crusted haddock and helped herself to a tasting of Bruce’s scallops in a coral vodka sauce, she decided she had heard enough about the genius of Robert Plant, having been more a child of the 1990s herself and a devotee of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. She gently steered the conversation toward a more neutral subject and inquired about the event that had brought the Lancasters to Bar Harbor in the first place: the impending retirement of Reverend Staples.

  “I honestly never thought he’d retire,” Hayley commented.

  “Yeah, he loves performing in front of a crowd too much,” Bruce said, smirking. “Which is why I was so surprised Lindsey Buckingham didn’t join Fleetwood Mac on their last tour...”

  “Bruce, enough about Fleetwood Mac! I want to talk about something else!” Hayley cried.

  Ted set down his dessert menu and leaned forward. “Well, this stays between the four of us...”

  “My wife lives for conversations that start like that,” Bruce said.

  Hayley playfully whacked him on the shoulder with her own dessert menu. “Let the man speak, Bruce.”

  Ted laughed and then continued. “I’ve only been at the church a few days, and as I have slowly gotten to know Reverend Staples and his wife, Edie, I get the distinct impression that it is the reverend who is pushing the whole retirement thing. Edie doesn’t seem too happy about leaving the church.”

  “Of course not. She loves the power of the pulpit and feeling important. Once Reverend Staples gives that up, they’ll probably never get it back,” Hayley said, grabbing the stem of her wine glass for a sip of Chardonnay.

  Bruce turned to Hayley. “Since when have you become such a gossip?”

  Hayley had just taken a gulp and nearly choked on her wine. She set the glass down and stared at Bruce, dumbfounded. “Do you have any idea who you married?”

  Bruce patted her hand. “Yes, I was being sarcastic.”

  She resisted the urge to slap him with the dessert menu again. “She’s probably also not looking forward to living on a fixed income.”

  The waitress arrived and the two couples decided they were too full from their meals for a dessert each, and so Trudy suggested they share a tiramisu and a crème brûlée. An idea they all jumped at, and so the waitress scooted off to the kitchen to put in the order.

  Trudy waited until the waitress was out of earshot before resuming their private conversation. “Well, personally I’m not a big fan of Edie’s.”

  “Come on, you’ve only known her for a few days,” Ted said.

  “I know, but I get the feeling she doesn’t like me. When I stopped by to bring you all sandwiches on your first day, she was actually kind of cold to me,” Trudy said.

  Hayley raised an eyebrow. “Really? Usually if Edie doesn’t warm to somebody, she makes a point of covering her true feelings by being fake nic
e.”

  “With me, she didn’t even bother doing that. She was downright rude. Reverend Staples told me she loves salmon so I made her this delicious wild salmon sub with provolone and a roasted garlic sauce, and trust me, it’s awesome, but when I gave it to her she didn’t even thank me, and as far as I know, she never ate it. She tossed it aside and wouldn’t even look at me,” Trudy said.

  “That’s strange,” Hayley said.

  “Not really,” Ted said with a shrug. “She resents Trudy.”

  “Why?” Bruce asked.

  Trudy sat up in her chair, surprised. “Yes, Ted. Tell us why.”

  Ted smiled at his wife. “Because you’re younger and prettier, and she caught the reverend checking out your backside as you left the church on the first day we all met,” Ted said.

  “Ted, that’s not true!” Trudy wailed.

  “Yes, it is,” Ted said. “I saw him do it myself, and so did Edie. She knows her husband finds you sexy, and so now she considers you a threat.”

  Trudy blushed and shook her head, not wanting to discuss Edie’s jealousy of her any further. Mercifully the waitress arrived with two plates and set the tiramisu and crème brûlée down in front of them. The foursome grabbed their dessert forks and excitedly dove in, ceasing all conversation as they shoveled in bites of the sweets with various moans of pleasure.

  “Excuse me, we hate to interrupt your dinner, but we thought we’d stop by and say hello on our way out,” a woman’s voice said.

  Hayley looked up to see a local couple, Mark and Mary Garber, standing next to their table. Hayley could see Bruce tense a bit because he found Mary rather loud and abrasive, but Hayley liked her. The Garbers had moved to town about eight or nine years ago. Mary worked at the bank and Mark was a contractor. Mary was in her mid-thirties, Mark a few years younger, and they tried hard to fit in, hosting happy hours on their deck, throwing holiday parties, getting involved as much as they could in the community by attending every fund-raiser and public event. Mary’s determination to become a central part of the Bar Harbor social scene had initially met with middling success. But finally, after years of trying, she had hit pay dirt. Three years prior, Mark and Mary had hosted a Halloween party at their house called the Witches Ball where all the women were encouraged to come dressed as witches. The men had a much more relaxed dress code and could show up in any type of costume they chose. Mary likened it to the reverse Oscars where most of the men arrived in black tuxedos whereas the women were free to express their fashion creativity by working the red carpet in wild and colorful designer dresses. At the Garber house on Halloween, the men were the real standouts. The Witches Ball quickly caught on, and was now an annual staple that everyone looked forward to attending. Mary had met her goal. She had established a local tradition, cementing her place in the Bar Harbor cultural scene.