Thrilling Thursday Witchy Epilogue: Detective Jay Jameson

The first day I met Tabby Chase, I knew she was different. I’d arrived on her dock, per Detective Thom’s instructions, to question her covertly about a fatal collision from the night before. Once there, though, I hadn’t been able to hold myself back. Questions about her Aunt Lizzie launched off my tongue without my permission.

It wasn’t as though anyone on the police force actually thought she had killed Maple May on the road, so I didn’t feel too badly about sidestepping my assignment, especially when Tabby got that little crease between her eyebrows that looked so much like Lizzie I wanted to immediately grab her and give her a hug.

That was all I thought it was at first—a warmth and a nostalgia from missing her aunt. But the more time I spent with Tabby and the more skill she’d shown in assisting with investigations, the more I found myself thinking about her. Then when her life was recently in danger, it was a wakeup call, like a bucket of ice water in the face to show me how much I actually cared about her.

Thom had given me the indication that he planned to back off, but that didn’t mean she was ready to date me. I knew that, and had been keeping my distance for fear that I might come on too strong with her. Ever since I’d come to terms with my feelings and how different she was from every other girl I’d spent time with, I’d been trying to temper my actions.

I’d claimed to be busy with paperwork each time she texted me in the last week. And it wasn’t exactly a lie—murder investigations did come with a lot of details to tie up. But Thom was taking care of most of those details in an attempt to prove his worth toward a promotion to lieutenant.

He came by my desk just as I was thinking about him, just as I’d been thinking of Tabby, and asked, “You been out with her yet?” as though he could read my mind.

I wasn’t entirely sure if he was asking because he’d decided that if I wasn’t going to go for her, he might make a renewed decision to do so, or if it was just a casual question.

Although Thom didn’t often do casual.

“I was just headed there today, actually, to talk to her about that.” It wasn’t true—or at least it hadn’t been a second ago. But it seemed all I needed was a nudge.

Thom gave me one solid nod and then moved along.

It was later that afternoon when I finally headed for the marina. Tabby was just leaving one of the neighboring houseboats she managed as I made my way down the dock. I met her near her boat and followed her across the gangplank to sit on her front deck.

“So . . . are they all going to jail?” she asked with a note of hesitance. We hadn’t spoken in person since her near-death experience, where Thom and I had arrested three people. She went on to question me about all three of them.

Her cat Sherlock was sleeping in the sun a few feet away, seemingly paying us no attention, but I was getting a feeling for that cat. If Tabby was talking about investigations, he more than likely had an ear tuned in our direction.

I glanced toward the houseboat door, wondering if I should ask if we could sit inside. I didn’t know if it was Lizzie’s lingering presence I felt there, or if it was some of her magic trinkets that brought me comfort and helped me feel a deeper understanding of the world.

But Tabby had been less and less eager at inviting me in, so I figured today, of all days, I should probably be satisfied with the outer deck.

“We’ve had to do a lot of back and forth interviewing to get to the truth.” I went on to explain the outcome of the recent case Tabby had helped solve.

Tabby barely let me get the details out, though, when she interrupted, like I wasn’t getting there fast enough. “But wasn’t she only trying to save her son?”

As we went on to discuss the case details, I had the distinct impression that she felt bad for everyone involved. While she was a skilled investigator, the more I saw this side of her, the more I wouldn’t want to see her gain a hard edge that investigative work brought with it.

After I gave her all the details I could, I decided to change the subject. “So now that this case is all tied up . . .” My nerves ratcheted up as I looked at her. Her green eyes were wide and trusting. She had told Thom point blank that she wasn’t ready to date anyone yet. As I remembered this and then opened my mouth, I quickly changed tracks so my question came out as more of a joke than a serious one. “I guess the only mystery is why you haven’t invited me to accompany you to your school reunion yet?”

Her face and neck grew pink. Great. That hadn’t been the effect I was going for at all.

I winked and added, “You know, just as friends.”

She fingered a piece of sea glass she wore around her neck. “Well, I, um. Actually, I’m not going.”

I didn’t know if she was lying, but it certainly felt as though she was holding something back. “I thought you told your mom you would go.” And now, not only was it obvious I had been eavesdropping, it felt as though I was challenging her on her own personal life decisions. If only I could borrow Aaron Thom’s smooth-talk and confidence for five minutes.

“The more I think about it, the more I feel like I don’t want to go back to that back-biting high school crowd,” she told me, and there was a raw honesty in her words. “Especially when I don’t have much to show for my ten years out of high school.”

I pulled back in surprise. “You? I’d think you’d be worried you might intimidate your classmates with all the experiences you’ve had since high school. Plus, you’re a pretty amazing PI, and I’d tell that to anybody who asked.”

She stared at me for a long moment, as if having trouble believing my words. These ones were nothing but true, so I kept my eyes locked with hers, hoping she would sense the impression she had made on me in the short time she’d been living in Crystal cove.

“It’s too bad,” I added, still trying to work my way toward the question I wanted to ask. “I hoped I was going to get a chance to meet your family.” In truth, I’d met her mom once before, after Lizzie died, when she’d had to come to town to identify her sister’s body. I really hoped to be able to meet her again under better circumstances.

“Well, you never know,” she told me, and I didn’t know why, but her words felt loaded with deep thoughts and contemplation.

“Just promise you’ll think about it,” I told her.

She nodded hesitantly.

This wasn’t going the way I’d hoped, but at the same time, I loved that Tabby didn’t come on too strong like most of the women in Crystal Cove. I loved that I could read her genuine emotions, the same way I’d been able to read Lizzie’s. I wondered if they were the only two spiritually sensitive people in her family.

I’d barely thought the question when it was launching off my tongue in curiosity. “Any of the rest of your family have special gifts—like your Aunt Lizzie?”

Her eyes sparkled and suddenly the heaviness of the moment evaporated. Her mouth turned up in a smile. “Not even close. My dad won’t even speak to me because I settled in this magic-infused town.” She laughed at this, but I sensed a note of bittersweet behind it.

“Skeptics? All of them?” I didn’t know why, but I found this hard to believe.

She nodded. “I’m considered the wide-eyed zealot of my family, and most of the time I barely believe in it all.” She slapped a hand over her mouth and then eked out the word, “Sorry,” as though she thought her confession may have offended me.

I motioned to her neck. “I see you’ve started wearing some of Lizzie’s precious stones. That probably helps.”

Her hand stilled on the sea glass and she tilted her head at me, like she was trying to tell if I was serious. I didn’t know if I was serious, really. I only knew that Lizzie had owned a lot of stones and crystals she thought held irrefutable magic, and even though she was gone from this world, I still tended to believe everything she’d ever told me.

It surprised me when Tabby said, “Actually, I found this sea glass out on the beach. I didn’t come across Lizzie’s collection when I packed up.” Again with the tilted head and the confused look. She glanced behind her to the houseboat door, as though she felt the urge to go and look for them right this second.

I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say. It seemed I’d brought too much nostalgia with me today to garner a date.

That was okay, though. I’d come here today because I’d felt Thom’s pressure, not any pressure of my own.

There was no rush when it came to Tabby Chase. I’d wait until she was ready.

Two weeks later, I stopped by The Heirloom Café and waited at my usual table until she brought me a coffee creation to enjoy. She was working hard to figure out my ideal hot drink, but in truth, I just wasn’t a fussy coffee drinker. I could take it black or full of cocoa and sugar, and I’d be hard-pressed to notice the difference. Having something hot to sip just helped me think, so it was a means to an end more than for personal enjoyment.

“Strawberry coffee,” she said as she set a mug topped with pink foam in front of me. “I know, I know, it sounds weird, but just try it.” She sat in the seat across from me and leaned in, as though eager to see my reaction. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lineup at the counter at the moment.

Her eagerness made me want to give her a positive reaction, no matter what I had to do to stir it up within me. I held both hands around the mug and closed my eyes as I brought it to my mouth. Before I took a sip, I inhaled deeply, and it most certainly smelled like strawberries. Tabby sat stock still and silent across from me, waiting.

I brought the mug to my lips and took a small sip. Then another. “Mmm.” The reaction was honest and automatic. In fact, I couldn’t hold it back. When I opened my eyes, her whole face filled with delight. “This is pretty amazing.” In truth, the look on her face was the amazing part, but I wasn’t about to ruin it by telling her so.

“Some people make it with a strawberry syrup, but I had this idea to make my own ice cream and then blend a latte from there.” She prattled on about the ingredients. I liked hearing her excited for something, so I didn’t interrupt at first.

But then I had an idea. What were the chances I’d find her in such a great and receptive mood any other time? “Go out with me,” I said, interrupting her mid-sentence.

Her smile flattened and her brow buckled. “Wh-what?”

I groaned inwardly. But I couldn’t back out now. “On a date. I know you said you wanted to settle into Crystal Cove first, but you’ve had some time, and it doesn’t have to be serious. Just one date.” Even as I said the words and watched her wary face, I had to ask myself why I was so determined when she was so obviously hesitant. Was it only because Thom was pushing me and I felt threatened?

I immediately waved both hands at her in a move I meant to be casual, but in this moment was anything but. “You know what? Scratch that. Forget I even said anything. It’s…” I searched for the words that would rid us of this discomfort and bring back her smile, but when I didn’t find them, instead I waved her toward the counter. “Oh! You have a customer!”

When Tabby returned from serving customers that had appeared one after another, she’d at least regained some relaxation. “Sorry about that.” She slid another hot drink across to me. This one had white whipped cream on top with a chocolate drizzle in the shape of a happy face. I hoped that meant she wasn’t unhappy with me.

“I’m the one who’s bugging you at work,” I said.

Tabby looked at me long and hard before she said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” I told her honestly, but hoping it wasn’t going to be about my very un-smooth attempt at asking her out.

“Why do you think my Aunt Lizzie killed herself?”

I pulled back in surprise.

When I didn’t immediately answer, she went on to tell me, “When I used to visit her as a little girl, she seemed like the happiest person I knew.”

That was only part of the truth about Lizzie. I suspected Tabby didn’t know the whole truth, but she deserved to know. “Well, she wasn’t happy all the time. I mean, she was on anti-depressants. Did anyone tell you about that?”

Tabby shook her head, that crease between her eyebrows forming.

“I think Lizzie always struggled between what went on in her head and what the world wanted from her. She told me the medication kept her even.”

Tabby tilted her head. “But I cleaned out her medicine cabinet when I first moved in and while there were lots of things in there that I didn’t recognize, they were all long expired.”

I swallowed hard and tried not to let my concern show. That was a possible reason right there that Lizzie might have lost her emotional grip. If her medications weren’t as strong as they should have been… I shook my head at the thought of her needless death.

Thankfully, Tabby didn’t wait for my input. “She also had some potions that looked like they were from Ruth’s shop. As I understand it, they’re basically just essential oils, but they all had strange names like Blooming Bliss and Wellness Shower. Maybe I should ask Ruth if my aunt had gotten those for her depression.”

She still had the furrowed brow, but I couldn’t help but encourage her. If I’d learned one thing from dealing with grieving family members after unexpected tragedies, it was that they always needed to follow their own path to find closure.

This could be Tabby’s. I hoped it would be.

We saw each other regularly over the following weeks, but I didn’t broach the subject of a date again, and I didn’t ask about her discoveries about her Aunt Lizzie except for the one time she brought them up.

From her understanding, it did seem as though Lizzie had tried taking essential oil blends to try to get off of her medications that treated her depression. I didn’t want to add my thoughts to that particular conversation, as it only made me angry with Ruth Boudreau. I’d never seen Ruth as particularly pushy about her products or services, but I couldn’t help but see her as the “bad guy” in this scenario. I couldn’t help but think Ruth may have convinced Lizzie to stop taking her medication.

Mostly I avoided the topic of conversation, and especially today, because I had my nephew Brady with me.

“Brady, this is my friend Tabby,” I said, forcing a light tone as he made his way from the table where the coloring pages and crayons were kept to the counter. “Tabby likes to make special drink concoctions that no one’s ever heard of before.” I said this as though it was akin to the skills of a superhero. While I wasn’t fussy about my hot drinks, or at least I hadn’t been until Tabby got me to close my eyes and savor one, I regularly heard locals offering their enthusiastic praise for her edible creations. I turned to Tabby. “Can you make a very special drink for a very special nephew?”

A gleam lit her eyes. “You bet I can.” She opened the counter barrier and crouched down to Brady’s short stature. He was almost seven and due for a growth spurt. “Tell me, Brady, what flavors do you like when you eat ice cream?”

I bit back a smile, imagining her adding bubble gum and sour soothers to his hot chocolate as he listed off every type of candy he’d ever eaten.

“And chocolate?” she asked.

Brady scrunched up his nose, which surprised me. I’d watched him grow up. My sister Brit and her husband worked a lot, and so I often kept Brady with me on my days off. We’d eaten at every restaurant in town together, taken day trips into Portland, and played more video games together than I could count, but this was the first I’d heard of his aversion to chocolate.

Tabby didn’t miss a beat, though. “Got it! No chocolate. I know just the thing.”

While she got to work, I sat Brady at my usual table with his coloring page and some crayons and then I returned to talk to Tabby as she made up our drinks. At first, her blender was too loud to converse, so I watched with interest as she blended hot milk with warm cherries and a large spoonful of honey. My stomach grumbled as I wondered if that one was for Brady or for me.

She answered my unasked question when she topped the drink with a massive amount of whipped cream dotted with sour candies.

“This one’s Brady’s?” I guessed as she passed it over.

I was almost tempted to ask her to make me one of the same, without the candy, but then she nodded and said, “I have a special pumpkin and caramel treat coming your way,” and my stomach grumbled all over again.

By the time I delivered Brady’s drink and came back for mine, Tabby was just topping it off with a caramel drizzle. “Your nephew is adorable,” she said.

I followed her eyes to where Brady was sucking the sour candies from the whipped cream one by one. He had a dollop of whipped cream on his nose and another on his forehead. “An adorable child who needs a bath,” I joked.

She passed me my drink and to my pleasure, followed me to our table and pulled out her own chair. “So what are you two gentlemen up to today?” She kept her eyes on Brady and so I kept my mouth shut and let him answer.

“Uncle Jay is taking me shopping.”

He wore the same distasteful look that he had for the mention of chocolate, so I reminded him, “We can’t find coveralls before Friday without doing a little shopping, Brady.”

He twisted his lips, giving this a moment of thought before returning to his drink.

“Coveralls? Is that for a Halloween costume?” Tabby asked, her eyes still on Brady.

Brady shook his head. “No costume. It’s for the harvest festival.”

Tabby looked to me in question, so I explained. “The local community church holds a harvest festival every year at the end of October. Some people in the congregation aren’t the biggest fans of Halloween.” I suppressed an eye-roll. Brit and I had grown up trick-or-treating with our parents every year and both had fond memories of it, but ever since Brit married Grayson, she acted like the holiday was nothing short of a celebration of the devil himself. In past years, they’d taken Brady to the harvest festival to distract him from the other activities going on about town, but they were both working this Friday, so after much pleading, I’d finally agreed to keep Brady at the church celebration and away from anything “dangerous” or “spooky” in town. “You should join us,” I added to Tabby, without even realizing what I was doing.

By the way she nibbled at her lip, I figured she was looking for a nice way to reject me. But then she asked, “What time is it?”

“I think it starts at six. Right?” I asked Brady.

He nodded, slurping up the very last of his drink. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to ask for a taste of his. I was about to take another sip of mine, which I’d devoured half of without tasting it, when Tabby said, “I have something on later, but I could come for a little while. If that’s okay with you?” she asked Brady.

Brady’s eyes lit up. I was glad to see him warming to Tabby so quickly. While I didn’t date often, each time I’d introduced him to a girl in the past, he’d made no secret of his dislike of each of them. “Do you like to bob for apples?” he asked her.

“I love to bob for apples,” she replied.

And so it was settled. All I needed, apparently, to get Tabby to go on a date with me, was to bring along my six-year-old nephew.

Now it was just a matter of finding the kid a pair of overalls and showing Tabby the kind of small-town charm that might finally win her affection.

The End.

Join Tabby and Jay at the harvest festival in Frightful Friday, Book 3 in the Tabitha Chase Days of the Week Mysteries!