Murder Out By Caster Bridge

Chapter fourteen

"What was all that about?" asked Norman, sitting back down in his seat.

"Truth be told, I have no idea. Zelda has always bullied me for one reason or another. I still have no idea what those reasons might be. But she insists on always making my life a living hell."

"I can see it. Maybe it's because she has a major crush on you."

"What?" I asked. "I doubt that. Besides, she and her bratty friends know I'm gay."

"And that might be why she hates you," he deduced. "I can't say for a fact, but some people could be like that. I mean, I did see that happening on certain shows."

"Norman, this isn't a movie or a show. This is real life," I said, sipping on the last bit of my now-cold tea. "Besides, I doubt that is the case with Zelda. If anything, I get the distinct feeling it's something deeper than simply having a crush on me."

"All right, fair enough," he said. "What about Brianna then?"

"What about her?"

"Come on. Even I could tell she hates you, too. I guess I'm curious as to why you brought up her father."

I sighed. "Because she was lying. I could feel her true emotions underneath her hatred. The second I brought up her father, her true emotions were present. She's more upset over it than she is letting on." I shook my head. "I know I shouldn't have brought it up, but I can't stand it when people lie. But that isn't what's bothering me the most."

"What is bothering you?"

"Hannah wasn't with them," I said. "They are always in a group of three. I wonder where she was."

"Well, I don't know Hannah, but it might not be anything," he said.

"Maybe." I paid for our meal and left a good tip on the table before I stood up. "Anyway, I have to get to work now. Melinda is going to give me an ear full again."

Norman smirked, standing up. "This I have to see. Plus, I want to see her for myself. This should be good," he said.

______________________________________

We walked out of the cafe and went across the street to the magic shop. I opened the door and Norman went in first. Of course, Melinda was there in a red dress with a cape tied around her neck, a red witch hat, and red boots. There was a broom in her hand and she was sweeping the floor. She must have heard our footsteps because she turned and looked at us. "Ah, Weston, there you are. I was sure you weren't coming in. You know, you've been late so many times now I may have to dock your pay."

"At least you aren't firing him," Norman said, chuckling.

I gently elbowed his ribs. "Norman," I growled quietly.

Melinda's eyes looked at Norman with skepticism. As usual, I couldn't feel her emotions. "Oh, Weston, have you got yourself a boyfriend finally?"

I blushed. "No, he's a friend."

Norman smirked. "Besides, Wes here is not my type, but you are," he said, winking at her.

Melinda wasn't flattered. "Is that so? Well, I highly doubt that considering you barely know me, Norman Forrest."

Norman grinned. "Oh, you know me?"

"Honey, everyone in town knows who you are. You are Detective Bradley's son," she said. "And speaking of which, did you both hear about Barry Bloomsdale and Jerry Johnson? It's such a tragedy."

"It is. I knew both Barry and Jerry personally," said Norman. "They wouldn't have done this. I know they wouldn't have. I just have to prove it. But I can't go back to the bridge. They already cleaned it up. If only I knew where Jerry was. He called me this morning and seemed fine."

Melinda nodded. "Well, I'm not supposed to say anything, but there was gossip earlier that Jerry was found out by that old mansion."

"Old mansion?" he asked. "You mean the one up on Chester Hill?"

"The very same," confirmed Melinda.

Norman turned to me. "That's the same place you zoned out on."

I rubbed the back of my head. "Did you have to bring that up? I said I was sorry about that."

Norman's eyes widened. "Maybe you sensed something out there," he said. "Oh, this is perfect. I have to get going. It was nice seeing you, Melinda. I hope we meet again." He smiled and then ran out of the building.

"What do you think that was all about?" I asked.

Melinda shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? He is your friend."

The bell over the door rang and two people suddenly came in.

Before I could ask if they needed help, Melinda stepped past me and shoved the broom in my hands. "You came. I was thinking maybe you had other plans."

The girl with the pigtail braids shook her head. "No, we were just checking out some of the shops before coming here," she said.

The guy smirked. "Well, she wanted to do the shopping. I just wanted to get here, but she was the one driving."

"Uh, hi, I'm Weston," I said, stepping up beside Melinda. "Who are you both?"

The girl shook her head but even though her emotions told me she was feeling uncomfortable. "I'm Belle. That's B.E.L.L.E."

"Oh, come on, your full name is divine," said Melinda.

"It's not. I hate it."

"It can't be that bad," I said. "What is it?"

"It's Belladonna."

"Like the herb?"

"Like the herb," she confirmed. "My family has a thing with that and all of my four siblings are named after herbs. It's a bit weird. Not to mention that people tend to run away when they hear my full name."

The guy chuckled. "And I'm Ray," he said, holding out his hand to me.

I looked at it nervously and then decided to shake his hand out of politeness. His emotions told me he was nervous. That was a given though with the ways his body was tensed up.

I quickly let go of his hand. "So, are you here to buy something?"

Ray shook his head. "No, this is my first day to work here."

Bella smiled. "And I'm just here to give him a ride because his car broke down."

Ray rubbed the back of his neck. "Shut up, Belle. You don't have to share that info."

Belle laughed. "Sure I do."

______________________________________

Close to closing time, when I finished stocking the last shelf, Melinda came over. "I'm sorry for assuming that you and Norman were a thing. It's just that handsome young man with ginger hair stopped by asking for you. Why haven't you asked him out yet?"

I sighed and turned my attention to her. "It's complicated."

Just before I was about to grab my messenger bag and leave, Ray came over to us. I looked at him. "You did pretty well on your first day," I said, grabbing my bag and placing it over my head.

Melinda smiled. "He was better than you, Weston. How many things did you drop again?"

I rolled my eyes. "Too many. I sadly can't stay and chat. I have to get home." I left with a quick wave, and then got in my Jeep and drove.

When I arrived home and got out of my car and walked into the house, I found my grandmother in the kitchen with bags of groceries. "Grandma, I wish I had known you needed to shop. I would have done it for you."

My grandmother smiled. "That's okay, dear." I helped my grandmother put away the groceries. "Thanks for helping, honey."

"It's no problem, Grandma," I said. "I need to pull my weight and help out since my mother abandoned me in your hands. It's the least I can do."

"Don't sell Iris short, Weston," she said. "She is your mother."

I sighed and placed my hands on the counter. "I know and I love her. But she did exactly what I feared she would. She disowned me. She hates me for being myself. And she hates you, too, Grandma."

My grandmother walked over and pulled me into her arms. I wrapped my arms around her and cried into her hair.

"Honey," she said. "What happened between your mother and me is not because of you. Your mother hates me because I'm your father's mother."

"That doesn't make it right."

"No, it doesn't," she said.

I tried to get my pent-up emotions under control, but they were flooding out and I couldn't contain them anymore. "How could she?" I asked, desperately clinging to my grandmother being mindful of her fragile body. In the back of my mind, I could hear stuff rattling from my uncontrolled magic. I could also hear the sound of rain pouring on the roof. But I couldn't focus on it. I was just focused on how I was feeling for once. "Why did she leave? Why does she hate me for being who I am?"

My grandmother held me and petted the back of my head soothingly. "I don't know, dear. I don't know," she said. She then looked at me. "Listen, you had a rough day. Maybe you should head to bed early tonight."

I nodded. "I like that idea. Thanks, Grandma." I aggressively rubbed my eyes before I dug my hand into my pocket. "Oh, here." I placed the necklace in her hand. "I don't know how it got in my pocket, but this is the necklace you were looking for, right?"

My grandmother looked at it and smiled. "It is. Oh, I remember now. I placed this in your jacket for good luck. I can't believe I'm so forgetful."

I kissed her cheek. "It's not a big deal. Thank you." I then headed to my room for the night, wondering why my grandmother didn't say anything about the rattling or the sudden rainstorm.