The Girl and the Clock Tower Murder: Pandemonium Cozy Mystery #2

Chapter 8

Mahogany wriggled her toes. The sandals' openness felt foreign on her feet. The straps pressed into her ankle, making her aware of the bones. Five days was an eternity to have to wear these Greco-Roman torture devices. She'd stop by Clovered Toes later to check in on her beloved boots.

She grabbed another herb jar from the Hemlock's wall and began restocking its contents from a large bag. The refreshing scent of spearmint filled with air. Atop her head, Bazgul nested in her hair. She'd found a bottle of hair oil she'd bought the last time she'd visited Gothmother's Salon, which had revitalized some of the color. Now instead of Pepto-Bismol pink, her curls had gained a few shades, promoting her fading color to cherry blossom. She could stave off going to the salon for another week at least.

Outside the Hemlock, Tony and Blair passed, walking hand in hand. Mahogany stifled a gag and continued shaking the spearmint bag.

"What's wrong? Did some get in your throat?" Neema said, not looking up from the order form.

"You might say that." Mahogany placed the lid back on the jar and tied up the bag when RW parked himself on the sidewalk, clipboard in hand.

"Be right back," Mahogany said and headed towards the door.

Neema glanced up and noticed RW. "Tell him he's not wanted here. It's bad for business."

Mahogany waved in answer and stepped through the door.

"Good morning, RW."

"Why, if it isn't Miss Mahogany. Or should I say Spider-girl?" He chuckled. "You're new moniker is all over Pandemonium." His gaze danced over Bazgul nesting in Mahogany's curls

"I prefer Spider-Woman. It has a better ring." Bazgul chattered his approval.

RW tilted his head and nodded. "Yes, I believe you're correct. Spider-Girl is diminutive. Ready to sign, Spider-Woman?" He shook the clipboard in an attempt to entice her.

Mahogany took the clipboard and started to write her name with the attached pen. "Such sad news about Matt," she said, glancing through her eyelashes at RW.

RW pushed his shoulders back. "Indeed. I'm sure you know I didn't like the little man that much, but I wouldn't have wished his death."

"But you did tell him he'd be sorry." Mahogany finished a few more letters of her name, waiting for RW's reply.

There was a pause before RW responded. "A regrettable slip of the tongue. I usually mind my temper. Matt was the passionate one." He sighed. "Our feud seems so silly now." He glanced at Mahogany. "We did have a wonderful friendship once. Drinking tea, working on clocks, celebrating birthdays, unbirthdays. Oh, we used to have the best parties." RW gazed wistfully into the distance.

Mahogany raised an eyebrow at the tall, skinny man before her. His wild white hair stood about his head like a mad scientist. She finished her signature and handed the clipboard back to RW. "Didn't you steal Lilac from him?"

RW snorted. "You can't steal what isn't yours. Lilac belongs to no man." A cloud darkened his features, which at one time had been dashing but were now grizzled and weather-worn.

"I watched the paramedics remove Matt's body from the clock tower." Mahogany sighed. "Although, I didn't know it was Matt at the time." she shook her head.

"I feel like you're fishing for something." RW sniffed. "I wasn't here when the murder occurred."

"Really? May I inquire about your whereabouts," Mahogany asked, mimicking RW's speech.

RW regarded Mahogany with a scrutinizing frown. "I was at a cloth convention near the coast."

"The news must have shocked you when you returned," Mahogany said, keeping her tone light.