“I really should go check this out,” I say to Max.
“You’re a busy woman,” Max says. “I knew that when we started dating. Being the leader of the Terra Coven is a big responsibility. I’m proud of you, Penny.”
He steps in and gives me a deep kiss. Then, since my watch is still singing, he says, “Go. Take care of business. I have plenty of work I can do on my book, anyways. Maybe I’ll see you Sunday night?”
I step behind my desk, gathering my items as fast as I can. The longer the sounds go on, the louder they become. This gives me a sense of urgency. I zip my jacket and then throw my bag over my shoulder. “Sunday night is Night of Hillcrest History at the West End Theatre,” I say.
I start moving towards the door. I step through and Max follows me.
“Would you like to have dinner together beforehand?” he asks. “Maybe at my place? A nice intimate meal for the two of us.”
We start moving down the stairs. I’m walking fast, almost running. My alarm has moved from cutsie songs to a shrill constant beep.
“An intimate dinner sounds so amazing,” I say, “but I told Rebecca I’d help with setup at the theatre. I have to be there a few hours early.” I push the Nugget’s front doors open and step out onto the sidewalk.
“I’m sorry,” I say, looking up at Max who has stepped out right next to me. “I wish I could.”
“No need to apologize,” he says, before leaning down and kissing me. I close my eyes, luxuriating in the kiss that I really don’t have time for.
As we part, I look into his espresso-brown eyes. He places his large, strong hand on my cheek and uses a thumb to stroke my jawline. As he looks into my eyes he says, “You’re amazing. You know that, right? You do so much for your community. You’re becoming a wonderful witch.”
“I try,” I say.
Though I don’t want to, I break away from Max and make my way to my bike. It takes a lot of effort to get on and ride away.
My watch is still ringing shrilly as I reach Hillcrest Pass road and begin to climb. I pause once to catch my breath and text my witch sisters to let them know I can answer the call. I know Marley is on her way to the airport, Annie is working, and Cora is tied up at the construction site with Silas. My sisters text back to thank me, and I head off again.
My legs start burning about a mile into the ride, but the sound of my watch going crazy spurs me on. I reach the portal gate in a pool of sweat.
While pulling my water bottle from my bag, I survey the gate. “Oh crap,” I whisper to myself as I note the absence of beings in the vicinity. “There’s no one here, is there? Don’t tell me that was a false alarm.” I take a long swig of water and then wipe my hand across my lips.
With regret, I think back to the feeling of kissing Max. “Don’t tell me I ditched Max for no good reason,” I mutter.
Suddenly, a gust of wind moves down the road, from the direction of the portal. It’s so strong that it nearly blows my hat right off of my head! I squeeze my eyes shut and reach up to hold my hat down until the gale subsides. When I open my eyes, Azure Spincraft, an Air Witch, is standing before me.
She’s carrying a shiny purple suitcase. Her electric blue hair is swept over one shoulder. She looks chic in a baggy, silver knit sweater, slim fitting jeans, and high heels.
“New entry protocol?” she asks, with one hand on her hip.
“Yes,” I say. “I made it up. It’s called the Watch Spell.”
“Oh, I know,” Azure says, “I saw you perform it. I just hoped it would work a little better. I don’t like waiting.”
“You watched us?” I ask. “What—you’re still doing that whole Looking Glass Spell thing?”
“Someone has to keep an eye on your coven,” Azure says. “You’re like a pack of clueless puppies.” She rolls her eyes.
“Where’s your BMW?” I ask. In the past, Azure has cruised over the pass in a purple sports car. It’s kind of strange to see her traveling on foot.
“Since you locked the portal, I couldn’t manifest it. It was too big to cross the barrier. And I had to wait in the most boring waiting room of all time. It was just a white void. You need to at least put some magazines in there or something.” She huffs and then flips her blue hair over her shoulder and lifts her chin.
She starts marching towards me, dragging her suitcase through the snow. “Don’t tell me you rode your bike up here,” she says. “That is so unimaginative. You could have ridden a broomstick, you know. Then at least you could give me a ride.”
“I can’t ride a broomstick around Hillcrest in broad daylight,” I say.
Azure starts walking away from me, heading down the hill. I steer my bike in a half circle and then lift my feet so that gravity takes me downhill. I catch up to her in a few seconds.
“Azure, I didn’t grant you entry yet,” I say.
Azure rolls her eyes again. This witch really has an attitude problem. “Come on, Penny. I know you’re not going to refuse me. I’m going to be Cora’s sister-in -law.”
She has a point. “Fine,” I say. “You can come in. But can you at least tell me what you’re doing here?”
“I’m here to help you,” Azure says. She’s still flouncing along the road, dragging her suitcase. She doesn’t sound happy about her visit, or the reason she’s here.
“I don’t need help,” I say.
“Yes,” she says, stopping abruptly and shooting a glare in my direction. “You really, really do. In more ways than one. You're a mess.”
“Me?” I say. “I think I’m doing pretty well.”
Azure arches a brow. “Really?” she says. “How are you doing with the Vision Spell? Making much progress?”
“Well... er—we’re working on it,” I say. “Marley and I sort of talked about it while we were eating ice cream and then I looked at my cat—”
“Your familiar,” says Azure.
“Right. I looked at my familiar and he looked different—kind of like a dream cat.”
Azure shakes her head. “So you’re saying you’re not close at all.”
“I’m saying we’re working on it,” I say. “We’re getting ready to try the spell again soon.”
“Hence, my visit,” Azure says. “You’re going to try the spell soon, but you’re not prepared at all. You need to do better than sit around and eat ice cream,” Azure says. “Do you even have the supplies you need? Did you purchase seven white candles?”
“Um... not yet, but I’m sure they have something close at the hardware store. Or maybe Annie has some at her café.”
“And what about a white cloth?” she asks.
“Well, we don’t exactly have time to go to a fabric store in Melrose or anything, but I’m guessing Bess’s Antique Haven has some used sheets that would work.”
Azure looks at me with disdain. “You were going to use used sheets?” she says. “To do magic?”
I shrug. “Is there something wrong with that?”
Azure doesn’t dignify my question with an answer. Instead she presses on. “How about frankincense and cypress essential oils? They’re very hard to come by, you know. Did you find them? Or a rose quartz?”
I shake my head guiltily. I guess we are underprepared.
“Penny, really.” Azure says. “I know you’re new to this, but you’re not that new. You should have figured this out by now. Since you clearly didn’t, I’ll tell you: You have to make time for witchcraft. This stuff doesn’t just happen. It takes effort. You have to put magic first. If you do that, everything else will fall into place.”
I think about how complicated and messy my life feels at the moment. I think about the many loose ends of the case I’m working on, and the way I feel like I have no time in my schedule for Max. “Everything?” I ask.
She nods.
That does sound nice. I’m rolling along the snowy road next to her, over bumps and potholes. We pass the Terra Mansion. “Are you going to do the spell with us?” I ask.
“I don’t thin
k it would hurt,” she says. “The thought of watching you guys fumble through it from the Air Realm was terrifying. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for me to bond with Cora a little bit.”
We make it to town, and I pull out my phone. Dang! All that biking and hiking took longer than I thought. It’s already three! Where has this day gone? I’ve made practically zero progress on the case today.
Azure heads off towards the apartment she stays in when she wants to keep a closer eye on us, and I make my way back to my office.
Hours of staring at my wall of photos while knitting yields little results. Well, I do make progress with my Interlaken Skirt, but that’s not exactly what I was after. Defeated, I head home.
Turkey and I hash out the case all evening, but we can’t seem to get anywhere with it. The next morning passes in a similar manner. At quarter-to-two I leave my apartment and head for the church where Rich Dempsey’s memorial service is being held.
I’m running late, but I manage to rush through the church doors just before Pastor Perez starts the ceremony.
Marley has saved me a seat in the third row. I slide down the row and then into my spot next to Marley. It was snowing hard outside, and I brush snow from my bangs after removing my hat. Owen is on the other side of Marley. He leans forward and gives me a silent wave. I smile.
Pastor Perez is addressing the crowd.
“Welcome, friends!” he says. “Welcome, welcome. Everyone settle down if you will, please. It’s so wonderful to see such a big crowd here, though I know that it’s under unfortunate circumstances. Our dear friend, Richard Dempsey was an outstanding member of this community. I remember the first time I met Rich....”
As he goes on, I crane my head around, checking out the crowd. I see Cora and Silas on the other side of the church. There’s Chris, in his uniform, standing in the back near the doors. I walked right past him without noticing.
Max is working hard on the first draft of his book. He didn’t know Rich, so he opted not to come. I see Annie near the back. It looks like she brought her knitting. Now that’s a good idea! I wish I had mine, too.
Victoria is in the front row. I can see the back of her head and her shoulders, draped in a black shawl.
Did she kill her husband? I can’t stop asking myself this. In fact, the question consumes me so completely that I have a hard time keeping up with Pastor Perez’s speech. I vaguely note that he reads several verses from the Bible. Next, town members take turns talking about Rich. Owen even gets up and says a few words.
Victoria does not.
After about an hour of this, we all move towards the church basement, where coffee and desserts have been laid out. Pastor Perez has instructed us to share stories of Rich, and to celebrate his life.
There’s a big picture of Rich up on the wall. The date on the bottom of the photo indicates that it was taken twenty-nine years ago. In it, Rich has his arm around a younger, vibrant looking Victoria. Before jumping into the buffet line, I walk right up to the photo and stare at it.
I catch sight of Victoria walking my way. She’s shoulder to shoulder with two other women. They’re heading for the buffet line.
“Great photo Victoria,” I say, as they pass. “Was this right after you sold the gold?”
Victoria stops short. The other two women, give her confused looks. “Gold?” says one of them to Victoria. Then to me, “Penny, what are you talking about?”
Victoria shoots me a look. “Yes—what are you talking about? I have no idea...” To her friends she says, “You two go ahead. I’d like to talk to Penny for a minute.”
Perfect! My gold comment really got to her.
“We’ll fill up a plate of food for you,” one friend says. “Apple pie or cherry?”
“Just a little bit of Marge’s apple will be fine,” Victoria says. “Very narrow. A sliver. I’ll be right over.”
Once it’s just Victoria and I, I don’t hesitate for a minute. Instead I jump right in.
“I’m onto you,” I say.
“What in heaven’s name are you talking about?” Victoria says.
“Rich called Marley,” I say. “Right before he died.”
“Is this more of that nonsense about foul play?” Victoria says. “That young cop, Christopher, told me that my husband’s heart attack could have been induced by chemicals. He told me that Rich’s body had to have tests done to it! Tests...” She shakes her head in disgust. “Are you behind all of this?”
I fold my arms across my chest. This isn’t the best time to be having a toe-to-toe with a widow who just lost her husband, but if I want to get to the bottom of things, I have to take a stand. I can’t tiptoe around Victoria Dempsey. I won’t get any answers that way.
I choose not to answer her question. I’m the PI here. I’m the one asking the questions.
“Don’t you want to know why he called Marley?” I ask. “Or do you already know? Were you listening in on the conversation? Were you concerned he said too much?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Victoria says, in a way that makes me think that she does have an idea of what I’m talking about. She lifts her chin up. Her eyes flash at me again. Her cheeks are hollow and pale. Her eyes are smudged with blue eyeliner. She smells just like her house—like potpourri.
The smell mingles with the others in the church basement: coffee, apple pie, and spice cake.
I press on. “I think you do know what I’m talking about, Victoria. You know more than you’re letting on. Rich left Marley a message. He told her about the gold—The gold that was discovered up at the Hillcrest mine. The gold that you and your husband sold to a collector in South Africa for eleven million dollars, exactly twenty-nine years ago, a year after Felix’s death.”
I’m pulling out all of the stops now. Victoria’s eyes widen with shock. Her mouth opens a little bit. I deliver the final blow. “So I want you to tell me, Victoria—what happened up at that mine? Did you or your husband kill Felix Greene?”
Her open mouth falls into a frown. A deep crease forms on her forehead. She reaches for my arm. Her fingers are bony but strong. “We’d better go outside,” she says, pulling on my arm a bit. “I need to talk to you in private.”
Her voice is so low that it’s barely audible. She starts tugging harder on my arm. I follow her. She pulls me towards the basement stairs.
As we pass by people that are making their way into the ‘celebration’, everyone greets her.
“We’re so sorry, Victoria.”
“If there’s anything we can do...”
“On your way out already?”
“Doing alright? Need anything?”
Victoria brushes all of the comments off. “Thank you. Not at the moment. We’re not leaving, just checking on something. Thank you, thank you. I’m doing alright.”
We squeeze past the final gaggle of people and burst out into the church foyer. Within a few more steps, we’re out on the sidewalk. It’s just the two of us.
“What do you know about Felix Greene’s death?” Victoria says urgently.
Should I tell Victoria the truth? Do I need to guard what I know? I don’t see any reason to lie. This case has been going nowhere lately. If I want to make progress, I need new information. Maybe Victoria can give it to me. I decide to be honest with her.
“I suspect that he didn’t die naturally,” I say. “The forged signature on the will is the tip-off that something screwy was going on. Under examination, the whole scenario starts to fall apart. I mean, Felix was an office guy—not an operations guy. Why would he all of a sudden march into a mine under risky conditions?”
Victoria looks down. She starts wringing her bony hands together. “I knew this day would come. I knew it would happen, eventually... that someone would put it all together. Poor Felix. We tried!”
“What are you talking about?” I demand.
Victoria looks up at me. “Has Marley ever told you that her grandfather had a drinking problem?” she asks.
&n
bsp; I shake my head. “No....” I say slowly. “Marley didn’t know Felix.”
“But Owen did. Owen should have told his daughter. There’s been so many secrets. Marley should know. I’ve wanted to tell her about the real Felix many times. I always held my tongue. He asked us not to remember him that way.”
“What way?” I say.
Victoria looks out to the street as she says. “Felix Greene was a man who was very concerned about his legacy. He wanted to be remembered as a hero... a man who helped his community. And he did—in many ways.”
“What does his drinking habits have to do with the gold? Or his death?” I ask.
Snowflakes fall all around us. Some get caught in my eyelashes. I brush them away so that I can examine Victoria’s face as she speaks.
“Felix did his best with the mine. Mining equipment is expensive, and he never had enough capital to buy it. He was always waiting for his big break, you see. He always thought that it was just around the corner, and then the mine would really be up and running. On the day of his death, some equipment that was vital to the operations of the mine was due to be returned in the morning. It was only going to be at the mine for one last night. He was upset about it.”
“So he decided to take it up into the tunnel himself...” I say, filling in the part of the story that’d I’ve heard so many times before.
“No,” Victoria said. “He didn’t.”
Hmm. Now we’re getting somewhere.
“He was upset,” Victoria says. “What does a man who loves whiskey do when they’re upset?”
“Drink whisky?” I guess.
Victoria nods. “He bought himself a bottle. Holed up in his office and started drinking.”
Uh oh. I don’t like where this is headed.
Victoria continues. “The mine didn’t have bathrooms. The building is very rustic you know. I don’t know if you’ve ever been inside, but besides the main offices the rest is like a garage. It’s an industrial space used for sorting piles of soil and rocks. There’s no running water. Instead, there was an outhouse.”
“Okay...” I say. “So there was an outhouse.” I’ve used an outhouse before. They’re little wooden shacks with a place to do your bathroom business. They’re always drafty and kind of uncomfortable in my experience. “I’ve seen that outhouse up there,” I say. “Kind of off to the side of the parking lot.”
A Hillcrest Witch Mystery Collection Page 80
