by Zoe Arden
"It was that awful witch whose wand you stole," Sally said. "I'm certain of it."
"I don't think Trixie had anything to do with this," Damon said. "Or anyone in Ava's family." My heart soared with gratitude.
"Well, then I think it was that COMHA agent. What's his name? Colt Hudson. We've had some of our members following him and he's a known deviant."
I tried not to laugh. Colt might be a tad on the jealous side but a "deviant" he was not. He always tried to stay on the right side of the law and do what he could to help people who needed help. A sharp giggle escaped my throat and everyone turned to look at me. Their mouths dropped open when they saw me and Renee's eyes fluttered open. Her arm shot out to the tray on her right and she picked up the first thing her hand gripped onto—a Styrofoam cup of water—and chucked it at me. I ducked as it sailed over my head. The water splashed on the floor and soaked my feet but missed the rest of me.
"Get OUT!" Renee shouted.
I backed out of the doorway and stopped in the hall with my back against the wall, wondering what to do next. What had I been thinking coming here? It was an ill-thought-out plan. A half-plan at best. I'd only come down here to find out what had happened to Renee, hoping it might spark some new piece of information that could lead to Randall's killer. Sheriff Knoxx had refused to give me any details of the incident. I felt like Natalie or Lottie with my need to know the whole story but I did. I needed to know if whoever had tried to kill Renee was the same person who had killed Randall and, possibly, killed Betsey. I had to admit, now that we'd found the shoe, it didn't look good for Betsey.
Damon stepped out into the hall and looked around. His eyes fell on me. "Ava, what are you doing here?" He sounded both happy to see me and angry that I was here.
"I heard about your mom. I just wanted to see if she was okay."
"You mean you wanted to find out what happened. Firsthand."
"Hey, I'm doing this for you. For Betsey. You asked for my help, remember? Sheriff Knoxx wouldn't tell me a thing and the rumors haven't finished spreading from Mistmoor to Sweetland yet, apparently. Otherwise, I'm sure I would have heard about it as soon as I stepped into the bakery this morning."
"Well, I don't think too many people in Mistmoor know either. They're trying to keep it quiet."
"So?" I prompted him. "What did happen?"
He sighed. "After I got home from the sheriff's station last night, my mom was waiting up for me. She told her friends to go for a late night stroll or something so we could have the place to ourselves but I could see all three of them hovering around outside. They were pacing on the front lawn and one of them, Sally, I think, kept walking up and down the stairs to check on us. I don't think they trust me."
I wasn't surprised to hear that. After all, Damon was dating a fairy and had already dated a witch. He was the black sheep in their little group.
"And?" I prompted.
"And I was prepared to tell my mom to get out. To pack her bags and move on but then she did something unexpected." He let out a breath. "She apologized."
"She did?" I asked, shocked that she would apologize for anything.
"She said she was sorry for speaking to me the way she had. For not trusting me. For a lot of things." He let out a breath. "Then she said she knew it wasn't my fault that I'd kissed you. That you'd bewitched me or something. And then our fight started all over again." He shook his head, clearly frustrated. "Anyway, we were arguing—again—and there was this streak of sunlight that ran across her face and then she just kind of choked up. She kept putting her hands on her throat like she couldn't breathe and then... she just fell down." His face crumpled and his voice cracked. "For a second I thought she was dead."
I'd drew in a breath. "What did you do? How'd you save her?"
He rolled his shoulders back as if bracing himself for a punch. "I didn't. She just started breathing again. Then her friends rushed in and we called the hospital."
"So, you don't know what happened," I said. He shook his head. "What do the doctors think?"
"Dr. Wallace doesn't know. He's still trying to figure things out. I think he's consulting with Amanda Hollyberry and Dr. Dunne."
"It sounds just like what happened to Randall. You didn't see anyone or anything suspicious before it happened?" I asked.
"No."
"What about Natalie Vargas? You didn't see her around anywhere?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Natalie? No, why? You think she had something to do with this?"
I quickly shook my head. "No. I'm just trying to put the pieces together."
I hesitated before asking my next question, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. "You didn't... find Trixie's wand by chance, did you?"
"No, I'm sorry. I didn't even have time to look for it."
"Are you sure?"
He glanced up at me, his eyes narrowing. "Of course, I'm sure. What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, I just thought... maybe... sometimes with wands things happen. Tricky things. And if you don't know how to use them properly..."
His face paled. "Are you saying...? You don't honestly think I'd hurt my own mother, do you?"
"No, of course not," I said quickly but not quickly enough.
"I can't believe you," he said, stepping away from me. He looked like he was going to be ill. The door to his mom's room opened again and her MAPP friends came flying out.
"We heard everything you just said," Sally cried, pointing her finger at me. "How dare you accuse this young man of such atrocities? You're sick in the head is what it is. It's probably all this magic. It must rot your brain."
"My brain's not rotted," I snapped.
"Could have fooled me," Damon snapped back and I regretted asking him anything. I'd be lucky if he would speak to me again.
Bebe spoke up. "If I were you, I'd leave this hospital now before I got hurt."
"Is that a threat?" I asked, really noticing her for the first time. She had a deep snarl on her face that reminded me of a toad.
"No," she said, her voice sickly-sweet. "I'd never threaten a witch. Consider it a friendly warning. MAPP won't let anyone get close to Renee. Thank heavens the doctor in charge here is human or we wouldn't even allow her to remain in this hospital. As of now, she's being guarded twenty-four hours a day."
"Guarded by who?"
"By us," Vivian chimed in. "And unlike Bebe here, I will threaten you. If you show your face here again, you might just end up like Randall. Or worse."
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CHAPTER
THIRTY
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For all of Bebe and Vivian's talk, I knew they were mostly harmless. How could any of them harm a witch? They were human. Even if they had the wand Renee stole from Trixie, they wouldn't know what to do with it. Would they?
What I had to figure out was whether Randall's murder was connected to Betsey's disappearance—and likely death—as well as Renee's attempted murder, or if it was all just a coincidence. Was a different person responsible for each incident, or was it one mastermind behind everything? Could they even be called a mastermind? What if it was simply someone with a chip on their shoulder who'd decided to take care of the people who'd put the chip there in the first place? There had to be one person who connected all three victims together.
I ran through the list of most likely suspects in my mind.
Natalie. She had been number one on my suspect list for a while and might still be, except that nothing I'd turned up so far implied she had anything to do with Randall's death. Even Snowball and Tootsie hadn't been able to find anything, which led me to think there was nothing to find.
Polly and Wilma. More so Polly than Wilma. She had failed to answer me honestly when I'd asked her about her argument with Betsey. If Polly had anything to do with this, she would never admit it. It was true that she couldn't perform magic without a wand—her powers had been st
ripped when she went to prison—but I was sure she could easily have gotten ahold of a wand somewhere if she wanted to. There were always ways of getting things, even for ex-cons who'd been forbidden from having them. If she had gotten ahold of a wand, she would know exactly what to do with it. She might not be a witch any longer but she'd started out her life as one.
I scratched Damon off the list entirely. He'd never really been on it to begin with. Not really. When I'd asked him about the wand at the hospital just now, his reaction had seemed honest enough to me. I didn't really believe that he would ever want to hurt his mother, even if she was a crazy person. Plus, he had no reason to kill Betsey or Randall. Despite the fight he and Betsey had had before she'd disappeared, I knew he would never have hurt her, no matter how angry he'd become or how much she might've hurt him. He just wasn't that type of person.
Could it have been a tourist like Trixie thought? Maybe but something told me whoever was responsible for what was happening was much closer to home than that.
Betsey's mom had called me back to tell me the fairies' search had turned up nothing. It was too bad but not unexpected. Her mother was officially worried now, though. She no longer thought that Betsey was fine and dandy hanging out in the woods somewhere.
There was still one thing I needed to know. One question still gnawing at the back of my mind. I needed to know what Polly had been arguing about with Betsey. I was positive she'd mentioned Slater Winston. I didn't know how he could be involved with this since he was still in Swords and Bones maximum security prison but I did know that he was the only human I could think of who would know how to use a wand if he had one. He was dangerous, and just because Polly said she hadn't seen or talked to him didn't make it true.
If Polly wouldn't be honest with me, then I would have to find out the truth for myself, any way that I could. What if the killer wasn't done killing yet? I couldn't risk anyone else getting hurt. Even if Polly wasn't responsible for the deaths, she might know who was.
I called Colt as I was walking and talked to him for a little bit. He wasn't happy to hear that I'd just been to the Mistmoor Hospital but at least it took his mind off of the other questions I was pretty sure he wanted to ask me. Like why I'd been in Beggars Forest with Damon the other day. I only half-paid attention to our conversation, so it was lucky Colt was doing the same. I could hear Dean Lampton yelling in the background. We were both distracted. By the time I got off the phone with him, I had a plan.
I spent the rest of the day at home playing with Snowball, Tootsie, and Rocky, and trying not to focus on what I knew I had to do. If I thought about it too much I might get nervous and back out. That was the last thing I need to do right now. Backing out meant unanswered questions remained unanswered. No. If I wanted to know what had gone on between Polly and Betsey and how it was related to everything that was happening, I only had one choice.
I waited until everyone had fallen asleep then snuck out with Tootsie. We stood together outside Sweets n' Treats, peeking through the windows as inconspicuously as we could. Snowball was far better at it than I was. Cats could get away with tons of odd behavior yet all anyone ever saw was a cute cat. People, on the other hand, tended to stick out like a sore thumb when they were up to something.
"All right, Snowy. You stay out here and keep guard. I'm going around to the back. If you see anything, just give a shout."
"Should Snowy and Mama have a signal?" she asked, rubbing her head against my ankle.
"Good idea. How about..." I thought about it a minute. "If you see anyone coming, just meow three times in a row as loud as you can. Okay?"
"Can Snowy make a sound like an airplane?" She blew her breath out and mimicked, surprisingly well, the sound of an airplane flying overhead.
"No, no," I said, patting her head. "That's very good but three meows are better, I think. It might seem strange for a cat to sound like an airplane. Even as cute as you are, I'm not sure that people wouldn't look at you a little oddly."
I walked around to the back, trying all the windows as well as the back door. This shop used to be The Alchemic Stone when Polly's mom, Anastasia, was still alive. They'd sold magical crystals and gems, as well as the occasional magical herb. No humans had been allowed inside. Things had certainly changed since then. The shop had been completely redesigned by Wilma, Anastasia's sister, when she took it over and turned it into a bakery.
I couldn't help but wonder what their back room looked like now. I'd only ever seen it when it had been Anastasia's psychic study room. Anastasia had considered herself very psychic—and to a certain degree she was—and had often given people readings in the back room. The back door had almost always been unlocked, as well, which had made it easier to sneak into on the odd occasion. Now, however, the door was locked and barred. I raised my hand and quietly delivered an incantation I'd learned that was supposed to unlock any door. Nothing happened. The door stayed shut and locked. I tried it again. Still nothing.
"Darn it," I muttered. They must have had some really strong protective charms over it, or maybe I just wasn't doing it right. Either way, I had to figure out something else.. I tried a window next. More nothing.
I stepped back and looked at the physical outline of the building, wondering if maybe there was another way in that I was missing. I knew there was a basement but I also knew there was no way in from the outside. My eyes looked down and up. That's when I saw it. Not an attic but a smallish bathroom window that sat up high, like one of those windows you used to see in old detective movies, the type of window you'd find above an office doorway. It was long and rectangular and propped open an inch. There wasn't much room to squeeze through but it should be enough.
I flipped over an empty garbage can and used it as a stepping stool. The window pushed open the rest of the way. I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to fit all the way through at first but the window was bigger than it looked. My shirt caught on it as I slid through but I pulled at it and it gave way. The only problem was that there was nothing for me to step onto on the other side. The upper half of my body flailed around looking for something to grab onto, and then the rest of me tumbled in through the window and landed on the floor with a thud, just missing the toilet seat.
"Well," I muttered to myself standing up and rubbing my head. "That was the easy part. Now let's see what we can find."
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CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
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The back room of the bakery was nothing like what I remembered it. Wilma must have expanded it because the whole thing seemed nearly twice as big as the last time I'd seen it. There were a few several ovens, not to mention cupboards, shelves, and prep stations. Cookie sheets and cupcake tins lined every wall. I saw row after row of flour, sugar, spices, and extracts. There was standard white flour as well as wheat, rye, sorghum, and rice. There was brown sugar, white sugar, beet sugar, cane sugar, Muscovado sugar, and more. There were bottles of corn syrup, which we didn't use, as well as jars of honey, molasses, and agave. Mixing bowls of all shapes and sizes were everywhere.
It was a lot like our bakery, actually. I supposed that made sense. Wilma had spent some time in the back room of our bakery when she was first starting out, learning a few tips and tricks from us. It only made sense that she would want to copy our bakery as much as she could. It was what she was comfortable with.
I allowed my eyes to adjust to the darkness, grateful for the dim light from a security light that shined down into the backroom and lit up a path for me to follow. I hesitated before turning on the main lights and decided against it. Breaking and entering wasn't something I needed going on my record. Not that I hadn't done this before but still... just because I'd done something before didn't mean I needed to get caught for it now. I didn't think that I should even use a light spell unless absolutely necessary. The less I drew attention to myself the better.
&nbs
p; I looked around the room, not really sure what I was looking for, just knowing that it had to be here.
"Let's see, if I were Polly, what would I hide and where would I hide it?"
I knew that she had studied dark magic for some time; that had been a large part of what had landed her in trouble. She'd wanted to enslave the human population, thinking that they were inferior to witches and wizards. Since then, she'd sworn that she'd given it up but what if that had all been a lie? What if Polly had only been biding her time?
Randall had been on his way to a meeting of the Witch's Council when he'd been killed. He'd said he was in favor of telling the human population the truth about paranormals—the entire human population. It would make sense if Polly had been out to get him. And as for Renee... well, that was obvious. She was a menace to paranormals everywhere.
Polly would probably have thought that getting rid of Renee would be doing a favor for the wider witching world. In a way, she wouldn't have been entirely wrong but I thought that trying to kill Renee was going too far. No matter what she'd done, she didn't deserve to die. She was a nuisance, not a psychopath. Though I had to admit that sometimes with Renee those lines got a bit blurred.
I poked my head out into the main room with all their display cases. The light was even dimmer out here but it was enough that I could make out the shadows of brownie plates and the outline of cupcake trays. The place smelled heavenly, like chocolate and caramel. I licked my lips, almost able to taste the sweets on my tongue.
A huge display of chocolate chip cookies already in boxes sat in the center of the room. The room, in general, looked just as it did during the day when they were open for business. I didn't think Polly would be hiding things out here where anyone could find them. I shut the door and returned to the back room, scanning the walls and shelves for anything that seemed out of place. There was one shelf near a station that said Polly in sparkly letters that drew my attention. The only reason I could even see it in this light was because of the glitter she'd used to write her name.
