Perilous Paws (Kitten Witch Cozy Mystery Book 8)

by Corrine Winters

“Here.” Cedric offered Ember a hand up. She took it, sadly remembering a time when he’d stroked that hand tenderly down her back. Cedric drew her up into the truck more quickly than Ember had expected. She wound up standing very close to him, their chests brushing.

  “Sorry,” Ember said.

  “It’s fine,” Cedric said, his eyes flicking up and down her form. They separated—to Ember’s mind, reluctantly—and moved through a plastic curtain to where Rose’s body lay.

  Cedric unzipped the body bag. Ember prepared herself for the sight of her friend, but Rose’s sightlessly staring eyes still jarred her.

  Ember cast a minor spell which allowed her to detect the presence of magical auras. She’d done the same at the exercise course, but this time she focused not on the outside of the body, but the inside.

  “I don't see anything—wait.” Ember gasped. In her magically enhanced vision, she saw tiny wisps of elongated skulls frozen mid-stream in Rose’s blood. “Unless I miss my guess, Rose has been exposed to a particular type of mushroom. Faerie Death’s Head Caps.”

  “I’ve never heard of them.”

  Ember frowned. “That’s because they’re very, very rare. They only grow in direct moonlight on hills overlooking graveyards.”

  Cedric pursed his lips. He got out his phone and checked for graveyards in the area Rose had been found.

  “The nearest cemetery is twenty miles away,” Cedric said.

  “Yeah. There’s not much chance Rose would have come into contact with the Death’s Head caps on accident, or by chance.”

  Cedric’s eyes hardened. “You mean…?”

  Ember nodded grimly. “Most likely this was a deliberate exposure.”

  “How?” Cedric stared at Rose’s silent, still form, his breath coming in white puffs. “What did they do? Throw some spores in her face or something?”

  Ember shook her head. “For this level of exposure, she’d have had to ingest them. Say, two or three mouthfuls.”

  “That’s a lot of poisonous mushroom to just scarf,” Cedric said.

  “Unless it were hidden in another dish,” Ember shook her head sadly. “A spell could have been used to compel her to consume the mushrooms, and the effect would have faded before I did my original detection spell.”

  “Do you think that’s what happened?”

  “I’m not sure what happened, I’m just thinking out loud at this point.”

  Cedric stroked his chin. “How long does it take for the Faerie’s cap mushroom to—”

  “Faerie’s Death’s Head Cap,” Ember corrected.

  “Right. How long does it take to kill?”

  Ember pursed her lips. “Within twelve to sixteen hours? The victim suffers no adverse effects until the toxins metabolize into their central nervous system. Then it’s a pretty fast shutdown…Rose, um, she probably didn’t suffer. Just fell over dead.”

  “So she could have consumed the mushrooms the night before? Assuming Rose went jogging in the AM as she usually did.”

  “Yes, assuming. Since April was dropped off at daycare on time, we can assume Rose was jogging in the morning as normal.”

  Ember and Cedric’s gazes met.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.

  She nodded. “We need to retrace Rose’s last hours alive. And we’d best do it while there’s daylight left.”

  Seven

  Ember scrolled through an online database of fey creatures maintained by a witch up in Maine as the squad car snaked through the bayou. As they neared the area where Rose’s body had been found, she put the phone away and rubbed her eyes.

  “Did you find anything that might be a likely culprit?” Cedric glanced over at Ember before returning his eyes to the winding road.

  “Just about any fey or faerie creature can be dangerous, but they’re more prevalent over in Europe.” Ember looked out the window at the dense foliage blotting out the sun. The car passed into shadow, giving her the urge to shudder despite the day’s heat. “I really don’t want to think there’s faeries mesmerizing people into scarfing down poisonous mushrooms. Especially not this variety.”

  Cedric pulled into the small parking lot of the exercise trail, his brow furrowed in thought. “From what you’ve said, there’s a slim chance this Death’s Faerie Head—”

  “Faerie Death’s Head.”

  “Right. That. There’s a slim chance it’s just growing by the side of the trail.”

  “Unless it had magical assistance—or there’s a dead body nearby, fulfilling the qualifying factors of the graveyard.”

  Cedric shook his head. “Magic is weird.”

  “Magic is meta-physical. You can’t bully it, or create it, or destroy it. You shape it and hope your intention comes to light.”

  Ember gestured at the two ends of the trail. One path started with an elliptical armature, the other represented the end of the exercise trail. “You take the start, I’ll take the finish, and we’ll meet in the middle.”

  “Right.” Cedric dropped to all fours. By the time he hit the ground, he’d magically shifted into his wolf form. Cedric’s keen nose would be able to detect the exotic mushroom if it grew near the trail.

  Ember had a different method. She extracted a twisted ash wand and slipped the leather thong around her wrist. Ember spoke the words of a short incantation over the wand, empowering it to glow in the presence of Faerie Death’s Head Caps.

  Insects buzzed; birds sang in the dense woods as Ember walked along the exercise path. She knew as well as Cedric finding the mushrooms was a long shot, but the danger the fungus presented to the public couldn’t be ignored. Ember tried to imagine Rose jogging along the path, trying to get her pre-pregnancy body back so she could try love again.

  Rose had a rough time of it, especially recently. Her husband divorced her and moved in with the Dark Witch Cassandra, because he’d been victimized by a love potion. Then, Cassandra had urged Rose’s ex husband Tom to sue for custody of their daughter April.

  Tom had strangled Cassandra, an act of defiance brought on by the part of his mind that knew it was ensorcelled. It was his love for April and desire to protect her that led to the murder. Which explained Tom walking around a free man, though he had to report back to the mental hospital every evening.

  With all that had happened, Ember couldn’t blame Rose for not wanting to be with Tom any longer. She’d finally gotten custody of April back, and then died. It didn’t seem fair. Another family torn apart by magic.

  Ember feared her own family was coming apart because of magic. Cedric seemed to be adjusting all too well to being without his memory, while it tormented Ember night and day.

  Her wand failed to glow when she caught up with Cedric. He loped toward her in his gray wolf form, liquid in his grace and beauty. Cedric adopted his human form, face creased with query.

  “Find anything?”

  “No,” Ember shook her head. “No sign of the mushroom here.”

  “Then we have to assume she got it somewhere else. Let’s swing by her house and check there just in case.”

  Ember nodded. They walked back to the car in relative silence. Ember’s mind dwelled in dark places, especially with regards to April.

  “What’s wrong?” Cedric asked when they reached the parking lot.

  “Other than my husband being an amnesiac who doesn’t remember me, a woman dropping dead, and her daughter all but an orphan, not a darn thing.”

  Cedric flinched. “Okay, I guess that was a stupid question. April’s with a foster family right now.”

  Ember cringed. “Have they told her?”

  “Yeah, I think April’s aunt Clarice told her.”

  “Why doesn’t April stay with her Aunt instead of foster care?”

  “Aunt Clarice is in assisted living. No way she can take care of a kid.”

  Ember felt despair well up in her chest as they entered the squad car. “Poor April. The universe hasn’t been very kind to her.”

  They drove
to Rose’s home, a modest ranch style with a well-maintained garden in both the front and back yard.

  Cedric and Ember checked about for the poisonous mushrooms but met with no success. Ember found something in the mail slot, however.

  “What do you make of this?”

  She handed him the card. Cedric squinted at it. “Is this like a survey?”

  Ember nodded. “Sent by Obercorp, asking what the Caucherie Homeowners Association thought of their presentation.”

  “The only way Rose would have been mailed one of these was if she was at that meeting,” Cedric said.

  “Exactly. Maybe someone at the presentation could have poisoned Rose?”

  “It’s worth checking out. I don’t get why anyone would want to hurt her, though.”

  Ember chewed her lower lip. “Hasn’t that real estate guy—Olberman? I think that’s it—hasn’t he been trying to get the homeowners on the south side to sell their property for ages now?”

  Cedric nodded. “He wants to build a golf course, I think.”

  “Golf courses are big, big money. You think Olberman got greedy enough to turn to murder?”

  Cedric’s jaw set hard. His silence was a grim affirmation of the possibility.

  Eight

  Ember finagled a bag filled with chicken thighs suspended in creamy buttermilk out of the refrigerator. Behind her, Cedric grated carrots into a large salad bowl. The whisking sound, combined with his nearness, reminded Ember of happier times. Namely, times when Cedric had his memory.

  “Do we have any cauliflower left?” Ember asked, turning a glance over her shoulder.

  “Cauliflower? But we’re having a salad.” Cedric frowned.

  Ember sighed. “We’ve had this conversation before, you just don’t remember it. You were skeptical the first time you had cauliflower in a salad too, but once you tried it you loved it.”

  Cedric rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know, I do recall having cauliflower in a salad, and that I liked it, but…”

  “Don’t try to force yourself to remember I was there. It’s only going to cause you pain.”

  “It’s frustrating,” he said, brow furrowed with thought.

  “I’m sure it is. Imagine what it’s like for me every time I have to remind you of something we’ve already discussed?”

  Cedric sliced cucumber for the salad, his broad shoulders heaving a heavy sigh.

  “I know it’s worse for you. I’m trying to make it easier on you, all right?”

  Ember plopped the bag of chicken on the counter and extracted a colander from the dish drainer. “It’s easier for you because unlike me, you didn’t lose your spouse.”

  “You didn’t lose me, I’m right here,” Cedric said, adding the sliced cucumbers to the salad.

  “Big talk for a man who sleeps in the guest bedroom.” Ember regretted the words as soon as she said them. She tumbled the chicken breasts into the colander, the thick buttermilk filming on the bottom of the sink.

  Cedric set his knife down and came over to her side. “I’m only trying to…I mean, come on, Ember. To my point of view we met last week. I don’t just jump into bed with women I’ve only just met.”

  “I’m your wife.”

  “I don’t remember that!” Cedric threw up his hands and stalked across the kitchen floor. He stared out at their back yard and rested his forehead against the glass. “I’m sorry, I just don’t remember.”

  Ember tumbled the drained chicken into a mixing bowl and tossed it with spice. She tried not to allow her frustration to carry over into her movements.

  “I know you can’t remember, but things are what they are. It’s just…I didn’t take my wedding vows to sleep in a room down the hall from my husband.”

  “And I don’t remember taking those same vows,” Cedric said. “I’m just trying to do things right and proper, Ember.”

  “Right and proper?” Ember laughed, though without much mirth. “Right and proper. Like a good southern gentleman, right? Except you’re a wolf shifter, I’m a witch, and magic keeps sticking its nose into our day-to-day lives. Right and proper kind of lose their meaning in this circumstance, don’t you think?”

  Cedric turned on his heel. “What do you want me to say, Ember?”

  “I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to stop making this harder than it has to be with your—your modesty.”

  “Modesty?”

  “You know what I mean.” Ember put her hands on her hips. “We’ve slept together before. Many times, in fact. Acting like a bashful boy infuriates me, even though I know it shouldn’t. You have your reasons, and they’re valid ones. I still can’t help the way I feel, any more than you can’t help your amnesia.”

  Cedric came back to the kitchen and resumed his task of slicing the cucumber. “I know. There are no manuals written on this kind of thing.”

  Ember frowned. “Don’t be too sure. Sometimes in the case of traumatic brain injury people lose their memories in a similar fashion to your own. Maybe we should study those cases?”

  “Those cases are predicated on the fact that the memories are still there, somewhere, locked inside of a person’s head.” Cedric sighed, but looked her in the eye with a stalwart gaze. “I’m willing to try anything to make this easier. For both of us.”

  Ember gave him a small smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  A knock came at their door. Cedric glanced over at the entrance; his eyes narrowed.

  “Were we expecting someone?”

  “I don’t know—maybe?” Ember shook her head. “It could be Beulah, but I assumed that she would meet us at Ash’s place later this evening.”

  Cedric went toward the door, peering through the filmy curtains. “It is Beulah. I guess she’s here early.”

  Cedric opened the door and Beulah eyed them with a narrowed glare. “Sheriff.”

  “Nice of you to help out Beulah,” Cedric said.

  Beulah’s lips twitched a sneer. “I’m doing it for your wife’s sister, not you. Things are hard for witches. We need to stick together.”

  “Fair enough.” Cedric gestured at the kitchen. “Would you like to join us for dinner? We’re having grilled chicken salad.”

  Beulah cocked an eyebrow. “I could eat.”

  Ember glanced over at Beulah. She wore a midnight black dress with a translucent lace blouse. Ember thought perhaps she was trying to channel Stevie Nicks with a little bit of hipster vibe. The leather satchel in her hand appeared heavy. Glass clinked when Beulah set it down on the floor near the border between kitchen and living area.

  It was a strange dinner, with Ember and Cedric’s amnesia-born turmoil, and Beulah’s reservations about both of them leading to a lot of stoic silence. Cedric made several attempts at small talk but no one seemed willing to take the bait.

  As the sun sank below the horizon and night reigned on the land, Beulah abruptly stood up and pushed in her chair. “I need to make some preparations. Can I use your back porch? Some of the incense is kind of fragrant.”

  “Of course.” Ember gestured at the back door. “Do you need any help?”

  “You’ve done quite enough for one lifetime, don’t you think?” Beulah shut the door firmly behind her.

  Ember and Cedric exchanged glances. If Beulah were this hostile, how would the spell casting that evening go?

  Could they really trust the carnival witch, whose sister had fallen under the spell of Black Magic?

  Nine

  The crescent moon peered out from behind a thin skein of clouds. A scraggly tree in Ash’s laughably small backyard spread its branches over the yellow moon, like skeletal fingers grasping at the light.

  Ember felt the tingle of magic in the air as the moon neared its zenith. The Witching Hour, so it was called. When magic was at its strongest, but the bonds between dimensions were at their weakest.

  Nearby, Beulah drew her chalk pattern on the sidewalk, chanting under her breath all the while. Time was the fourth dimension, according t
o Beulah. The Witching Hour should weaken the barriers between past and present, making her spell easier.

  Kali looked on with interest as Cedric paced nervously. “What’s his problem?”

  “He’s worried that someone will see Beulah casting her spell and have a hissy cow,” Ember replied, stroking Kali’s fur. “From what I saw before, those without magical vision will just see two crazy ladies drawing on the sidewalk with chalk and talking to themselves.”

  “Cedric’s been around plenty of magic before. Why should this cause him the slightest problem?”

  “I was involved in the casting of most of that magic. He can’t remember me, so therefore he can’t remember the magic directly. The Glawkus really did a number on his poor brain.”

  “Hey, I think Beulah’s sister is ready to begin.”

  Ember turned her gaze on the black-clad witch. Beulah held her hand out over the circle design she’d sketched on the sidewalk and chanted. The circle lit up with sorcerous energy, prompting Ember’s heartbeat to rise in tempo.

  “Now she’ll dial the clock backwards, and we’ll get to see what happened the night of Ash’s disappearance.”

  Beulah swept her arms in a circle above the design, mimicking the motions of turning clock hands backward. She suddenly paused, then clapped her hands together.

  “Is it working?” Kali asked.

  “Oh no,” Ember said. “It’s working, but Ash wasn’t outside during her altercation—”

  “—she was inside,” Cedric finished. “Go on, check it out. I’ll stay out here and monitor Beulah while she concentrates on maintaining the spell.”

  Beulah’s brow glistened with sweat, her closed eyes twitching with the strain of keeping the enchantment going.

  “I’d hurry,” Cedric said.

  Ember was already on her way up the steps, rushing to Ash’s loft apartment. She saw ghostly, translucent images of Ash and a man Ember didn’t immediately recognize. Ash was gathering together a collection of unguents and tinctures in a black medicine bag. The man followed her around, neither his speech nor his behavior hostile.