A Hillcrest Witch Mystery Collection

by Amorette Anderson

  “I see,” she says. She has a clipboard in her hand. She frowns as she jots down a note.

  “Was that the wrong answer?” I ask.

  She remains silent.

  “Am I going to fail?” I ask.

  Silence.

  The crosswalk flashes. Nadia steps off of the curb and strides across the street. I hurry to catch up with her. “If that was the wrong answer, can I try again?” I ask.

  We reach the other side of the street. Nadia motions to a store to our right. ‘Wag More’ is Marcy Benson’s shop, and it sells all sorts of pet supplies—mostly focused on dogs.

  “Suppose you were about to go into this store to interview one of the workers within this store,” Nadia says. “Name three items you should have with you, before beginning the said interview.”

  “Oh! Okay. Well, I’d need to have a dog with me. Maybe Blueberry Muffin, this cute little Chihuahua that I know. I’d bring her in with me, because Marcy—the owner and the only employee—goes nuts over dogs. I’d warm Marcy up a bit with small talk about Blueberry Muffin and then—”

  Nadia is giving that frowny face again.

  “No?” I say.

  She shakes her head.

  “Alright then. Three things... Well, I would need to have a coffee with me. Caffeine keeps me on my toes. And if I was going to confront Marcy, I might want to bring my gun.”

  “You have a gun?” Nadia asks. “Have you been properly trained to use it?”

  “My ex-boyfriend took me to a shooting range a few times. That was after I shot him in the arm, and he really wanted to help me improve my aim.”

  “You shot your boyfriend in the arm?” Nadia repeats.

  Crap. I probably shouldn’t have brought that up. There’s no turning back now. “Well... yeah. Barely. I mean, the bullet grazed his arm, really. And he’s my ex-boyfriend now.”

  “I can see why!” Nadia says. She’s making another mark on her blasted sheet.

  “We didn’t break up because of that!” I say. “Not only that. There were lots of other things that went on, too. We broke up once, and yeah, that might have had a lot to do with Chris’s bullet wound. But then we got together again, and things were going really well. Until...”

  My mind starts to wander to my handsome ex, Chris Wagner. We broke up recently, because we couldn’t see eye to eye on my magic studies. Basically, Chris doesn’t believe in magic, while I’ve become obsessed with it. The difference caused great strain in our relationship. I don’t think I ought to try to explain that to my examiner, though.

  “I’m getting off track,” I say. “How many things have I listed?”

  “Two,” Nadia says, flatly. “Coffee, and your gun. So you’re going to go into this store, all hopped up on caffeine and wielding a weapon you barely know how to use. What’s next?”

  Yikes. That doesn’t sound good. But what’s done is done. I need to come up with another item.

  I have to think. What would Turkey say? I adjust my fake glasses, and try to think like my brainy cat.

  “I would also bring with me my communication skills,” I say, lifting my chin proudly. “That’s one of the guiding principles of my business, you know. I always strive to communicate in a professional, competitive way with my clientele.”

  There! Nailed it!

  “Competitive way?” Nadia asks. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Did I say competitive? I mean to say comprehensive. No! Comforting. No... that doesn’t sound right. Confetti? Confederate... soldier? Nope. Competent! That’s it! A competent way!”

  I’m practically shouting.

  Nadia looks at me like I’m bonkers. Her brows arch high on her forehead, as she surveys me. Well, at least she’s not frowning. I’m going to count it as a win.

  She spins on her heel and starts walking again. In silence, we turn down Juniper Hill. As we pass Hiroku Itsu’s law offices, where Cora works, I start babbling, just because I’m nervous.

  “My friend Cora works there,” I say, motioning to the two front windows of the ‘Itsu Law Office’ facade. “It used to be owned by this sleazy lawyer guy, Ken Wilbur. I mean, none of us knew he was sleazy... or at least, we didn’t know just how sleazy he was... until he killed an old lady, just to get her inheritance money. That was this past summer. I actually solved the case.”

  It won’t hurt to talk myself up a bit. I don’t think I’m doing that well with this exam, and I need to make up some of the ground I’ve lost.

  “I put together the clues,” I say. “I figured out that Ken put phenobarbital into a cranberry orange muffin. Can you imagine?”

  “And you say your friend Cora works there?” Nadia says. She looks at me, narrowing her eyes.

  That wasn’t exactly the part of the story that I hoped she’d latch on to, but at least she’s talking.

  “Yes. She’s a secretary and she loves it. She says that the place kind of feels like home. She even said that she leaves some of her belongings there, like her favorite books and her slippers.” I laugh. “It’s kind of like a home-away-from home. That’s how my office is, too.”

  It won’t hurt for Nadia to know that I have an office.

  “What books?” Nadia asks.

  “Oh—we’re all... my knitting circle and I, I mean... we’re all reading a book together. It’s sort of historical non-fiction... it’s called the Art and Science of—” I stop short before I say ‘Becoming a Witch.’ I don’t know how Nadia will look on the fact that I’m studying witchcraft. Maybe I’d better not mention it at all.

  “Never mind,” I say. “The title’s not important. I’m just saying that Cora loves her job. Just like I do. Have I told you yet how much I love being a private investigator? I always knew I wanted to fight crime. I don’t know what I would do if I was to lose my license. It’s my only means of earning a living. My adorable cat, Turkey, relies on me for food.”

  I’m playing all of my cards, including the ‘cute kitty’ card. I might as well!

  Two hours later, Nadia and I are standing along the perimeter of Hillcrest Park. “This section of the exam has to do with tracks,” Nadia says.

  “Oh! Are you going to like stamp through the mud and I’ll have to examine your footprints?” I ask, pointing to a muddy patch on the ground.

  Nadia shakes her head. “These are Alphonso boots,” she says, haughtily. “I’m not going to ‘stamp through the mud.’ You’re going to walk through it and then I’ll have you analyze your own footprints.”

  “I have to walk through the mud?” I ask, looking down at my shoes. I’m wearing black high tops with white toes. “But my shoes will get all dirty!”

  “They’re sneakers. You can wash them off after,” Nadia says.

  I look over at her feet. She’s wearing ankle boots with wedge heels. They’re a soft grey color that matches her charcoal suit.

  “Couldn’t you wash yours off?” I ask. It’s not that I mind walking through the mud, it’s just that I think it’s awfully rude of her to insist I have to while she can stay nice and dry.

  “They’re suede,” Nadia says. “I most certainly cannot wash them off.”

  “Okay,” I say. I begin stomping through the mud and then I go through the motions of voicing my analysis.

  “Well, they’re prints. A girl walked here—rather fast. Yes, I’d say she’s quite athletic—she moves like a cheetah. She’s wearing sneakers.”

  “Fine,” Nadia says. “Now, what would you expect to see if this person was injured?”

  “Um—maybe the footprints would stop and then I’d see a butt print, because they sat down to call someone for help.”

  “How about signs of a limp of some sort?” Nadia prompts me. “Do you think you might see an indication that they were dragging a foot along?”

  I have to think about that one. “No,” I say. “Probably not. This is a small town. You should see how fast the ambulance response time is. I mean, those medics just hang around waiting for someone to call in for help.”


  Nadia sighs. “Okay. Tell me how you might be able to tell if the tracks were from a woman or a man.”

  “Oh, that would be impossible,” I say. “Shoes aren’t gender specific. You should see what my friend Marley wears sometimes. She got these cool Birkenstocks from Bess’s Antique Haven for like four dollars. They’re definitely men’s, but they were only four dollars, and they fit her! You know how the saying goes, if the shoe fits—”

  “Enough!” Nadia says. She holds up her hand. “I think I’ve heard enough. That concludes your exam, Penny.”

  “Did I fail?” I ask.

  “You actually passed,” she says. “Your program director will be in touch with you soon, to issue your updated certificate.”

  “I passed?” I ask, a relieved smile spreading across my lips. “Seriously? I was pretty sure I was bombing this thing. Wow, you are being really generous. Thank you!”

  I reach my arms up and turn towards Nadia. For a crazy second, I feel like wrapping my arms around her neck and giving her a giant hug. Her steely, cold look informs me that if I do, she might revoke her decision. I let my arms fall to my side.

  “You must really like me!” I say.

  “Well,” Nadia says. “Something like that.” Her flat tone lets me know she isn’t in the mood to celebrate my success. I am guessing she just wants to get back on the road.

  “Are you driving home today?” I ask. “Or will you stay in the area? I’m afraid there’s not many options for overnight lodging. The Hillcrest Inn is closed for the week. Dawn and Neville are redoing the carpeting in the guestrooms. If you’re really desperate, there’s a cabin I know about up on Rainbow Lake. It’s always empty and I’m sure no one would mind if you stayed there. You could always give it a try.”

  “Where is Rainbow Lake?” Nadia asks.

  I point in the general direction. “Up there,” I say. “You have to hike out to it. That’s why the cabin is so quiet. Totally abandoned. It’s a long hike, but a really pretty one. I actually solved a case up there, too. I was—”

  “I think I’ll hit the road,” Nadia says, interrupting me.

  “Oh. Okay. Well—thanks for passing me!”

  Without so much as a ‘you’re welcome,’ or ‘congratulations,’ Nadia shoves her clipboard into a side pocket of her briefcase and begins walking away from me.

  I know I’m not the best at communicating, but that lady really has some work to do.

  I’m too happy about passing the exam to let her rude mannerisms offend me. Instead, I pull out my phone and immediately call Marley. We agree to meet at The O.P., Hillcrest’s local watering hole, for a drink to celebrate.

  After sharing nachos and two glasses of wine with Marley, she agrees to walk me home. Her van is parked on the other end of town, but Marley loves to walk as much as I love to zone out in front of the television.

  “We stopped at every street corner,” I say to Marley, as we cross Main Street. “She asked me a million questions. Want to take the short cut?” I motion down Juniper Hill.

  “Sure,” Marley says.

  “We went down here...” I say. “It was so stressful!”

  “But you passed,” Marley says. “That’s what counts, isn’t it? You’re done.”

  “Yeah, kind of. I mean I passed the exam, but now I have to make three more payments. Nine hundred more dollars! I swear, that school is ripping me off. If it was up to me, I’d—wow... Hiroku sure is working late!”

  We’re passing by Hiroku’s law offices, and the lights are blazing. It’s eight in the evening, and most of the other businesses—except the bar—have been closed for hours.

  “I wonder if Cora’s there, too,” Marley muses.

  “Should we stop in?” I ask.

  Marley nods. “Let’s say hi real quick. She’ll be excited to hear that you passed your exam.”

  We veer to the right and push open the doors to the law office.

  As we step into the small office, I notice how quiet it is. Cora’s desk is empty. It’s clear that she isn’t here.

  “I guess it’s just Hiroku that’s working late,” I say in a whisper.

  I feel kind of strange, like we’re breaking and entering. We didn’t—the door was open, the lights are on—but still, it feels odd to be here so late in the evening

  “Let’s go. It kind of feels creepy in here,” Marley says. She hugs her hands around her arms.

  “It kind of does,” I agree. We’re about to turn to leave when something catches my eye. It’s a ladies black leather boot, poking out from the area of the lobby behind Cora’s desk.

  “What is that?” I say, as I walk towards the boot. Something about it is giving me the creeps. As I walk, I spot a second boot, and then... legs! A body!

  Hiroku is lying sprawled on the floor! Her eyes are wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling. There’s an awful lump on her forehead. I give a little yell.

  Marley is right next to me. “Hiroku?” She says, stepping forward and then kneeling down. She pushes gently on Hiroku’s shoulder.

  “Hiroku?” She says again, this time louder. I note the sharp edge of panic in her voice.

  I’m feeling a bit panicked myself. Yes, I’ve seen dead bodies before, but it never really seems to get any easier. I fumble as I try to pull my cell phone from my purse, and it lands on the hard floor with a loud clattering sound.

  Marley gives a little scream and whips around.

  “Sorry!” I say. “That was me! Just dropped my phone. I’m going to call 911,” I say. My hand is shaking violently as I pick up my phone, and it’s hard to dial the numbers.

  “Should I start CPR?” Marley asks.

  “I don’t know,” I say just as the dispatcher picks up. I give a quick rundown of the situation. When I hang up, I see that Marley is checking Hiroku’s wrist for a pulse.

  “Anything?” I ask.

  Marley shakes her head.

  “I didn’t think so,” I say. “She’s dead, Marley. Look at that wound on her head.”

  I look at the bump on the side of Hiroku’s forehead again. Then, my eyes rove the floor near her body. I spot a paperweight, and I point to it. “I think she was hit with that thing,” I say.

  Marley looks, and then begins reaching for it.

  “Better not touch it,” I say, stopping her. “I think this is a crime scene. We shouldn’t touch anything.”

  “The medics are on their way?” Marley asks with a shaky voice as she releases Hiroku’s wrist.

  “And the police,” I say.

  Just then, I hear a yipping sound. Marley looks to me, and we both raise our eye brows.

  “It’s coming from the office!” I say. Marley stands, and we both begin moving towards Hiroku’s office.

  When we enter the office, the yipping and yapping becomes louder. I know that it must be coming from Hiroku Itsu’s pet Chihuahua, but there’s not a dog in sight. I rush over to the only possible hiding place, and sure enough, little Blueberry Muffin is huddled under Hiroku’s desk, shaking like a leaf.

  “Oh, you poor thing!” I say, squatting down and reaching for her. She doesn’t fight as I scoop her up and hug her to my chest. “You poor, poor thing,” I whisper again. “It’s okay. You’re not alone. Shhh... It’s okay.”

  As I soothe the trembling little pooch, her barking subsides. However, just as she settles down, the medics arrive and her barking starts right up again. I hold her close as Marley and I rush back out to the lobby to greet the medics. I can tell it’s going to be a very long night.

  Chapter Four

  By the time I get home around midnight, I’m completely drained. The stress of the exam, plus the events of the evening have really wiped me out. I’ll never get used to seeing dead bodies, even if I work as a PI till I’m old and grey.

  I give a little shudder as I step inside, just thinking about Hiroku’s lifeless eyes.

  “Cold outside?” Asks Turkey.

  “Yeah,” I respond. “But that’s not why I’m sha
king.”

  “Did you pass your test?” Turkey asks. I can tell that he’s concerned about his supply of gourmet wet cat food.

  “Yes,” I say, reaching down to scoop him up. I kiss his forehead. “Don’t you worry about that. Mamma’s gonna take care of you.”

  “You’re not my mother,” Turkey says, twitching his ears.

  I kiss him again. It feels good to hold him. Comforting.

  I could use a little comfort, given the night I’ve just been through.

  Not only did Marley and I find a dead body—which is bad enough—but then I had to endure an entire round of questioning with my ex-boyfriend, Captain Chris Wagner.

  Not the best way to spend a Wednesday night, that’s for sure.

  I shudder again.

  “You’ve really got the shakes,” Turkey says.

  “I just had the worst night,” I say.

  “What could be so bad about it?” Turkey asks. “You passed your exam! You should have been celebrating. Responsibly celebrating, of course.”

  “I did,” I say. “Marley and I went to The O.P.. They have nachos on the menu now! But then after that, we were walking home and we took a shortcut down Juniper Hill. We saw lights on in Hiroku’s law offices, so we went in. Guess what we found there?”

  “I’m too hungry to guess,” Turkey says.

  I pick up on his not-so subtle hint, and move towards the pantry. As I reach for the bag of dry cat food, I say. “Okay, if you don’t want to guess, I’ll have to tell you. We found Hiroku Itsu in her office—dead.”

  “You mean Blueberry Muffin’s caretaker?” Turkey asks.

  “Correct,” I say. “Blueberry Muffin was there too. Marley and I brought little Muffin over to Cora’s place after we were done being questioned by the police. Cora’s going to take care of her, at least for the time being.”

  “And Hiroku was dead?” Turkey asks, watching as I pour dry food into his bowl.

  “Yes! Can you believe it?” I move to the fridge so that I can find a can of cat food. “She was hit in the side of the head with a paperweight. I think she was murdered.”