Fey: A Doyle Witch Cozy Mystery (The Witches of Doyle Book 5)

by Kirsten Weiss

  I crossed the road to the Barn and Brew, which, yes, was in a converted barn. The lunch rush had ended here as well. Half the red-topped tables were empty.

  Mathilda's roommate, Renee Greer, bussed a window table. She wore a black apron, jeans and a red t-shirt with the Barn and Brew logo. Renee looked up and smiled. “You can sit anywhere.” And then she did a doubletake, blinked, and hurried into the kitchen.

  My eyes narrowed. Was she trying to avoid me? Well, that wasn’t going to happen. I grabbed the table she'd finished cleaning, figuring it must be in her area.

  Five minutes later, Renee strode to the table, her ponytail bouncing. “Hi,” she said brightly. “Welcome to the Barn and Brew. What can I get for you?”

  “Do you have a menu?” I asked, playing for time. I knew the menu, had been here plenty of times before, even if Renee hadn’t waited my table.

  She pointed with her pen at the napkin carrier. Folded paper menus were stuffed behind it.

  “Whoops,” I said, picking it up and glancing at it. “Sorry. I guess I'll have a cheeseburger and fries.”

  “What kind of fries do you want with that?”

  “What are the options again?”

  She rattled off a list. “Parmesan fries,” I said. “How are you doing, by the way?”

  Her pen paused above her notepad. “Doing?”

  “Everything that's been going on, Mathilda's death…”

  Her expression grew pained, and she sniffed. “It's been rough, you know?”

  I nodded. “I can only imagine.”

  “I mean, she was my roommate. It feels so close, you know? Like it could have happened to me.”

  “I’m sure you’re safe. Most murders are personal,” I said, oozing sympathy and pulling bogus statistics from the aether. “Odds are this has got nothing to do with you. It’s not like anyone was hanging around your apartment before Mathilda died, were they?” Anyone like Paul Neumark?

  Her eyes widened. “You—”

  “Renee?” The owner, a grizzled man in a red apron, emerged from the kitchen. “Do you mind?”

  “Oh, right,” she said to him. To me: “Anything to drink with that?”

  “Iced tea. But—”

  She bustled off.

  Urgh. I’d been so close! What had she been about to say? I waited, my leg bouncing beneath the square table. I looked out the window. An elderly couple I knew passed, walking their border collie.

  Ten minutes later, Renee returned with my food and tea. The burger and fries glistened in a red plastic basket. Red-and-white checked paper beneath soaked up the grease.

  “Can I get you anything else?” she asked.

  “N—”

  She started to turn.

  “A lemon for my tea?” I asked, stalling.

  “Sure.”

  Renee bustled off.

  Come on! She couldn't be that busy. The burger joint was nearly empty.

  The waitress returned with a plate and five lemon slices arranged atop it. “Here you go.”

  “Renee, you looked a little upset when I asked if someone was hanging around your apartment.”

  “Did I?” She coiled her ponytail around one finger.

  “I really didn’t mean to freak you out. But was someone bothering Mathilda? Or you?”

  “No one was bothering me,” she said firmly.

  “What about Mathilda?”

  She crossed her arms. “She could be an emotional train wreck at times, you know?”

  “Mathilda could be a little hard to get to know.” I pushed aside the basket and braced my elbows on the red table. “But I liked her. She was cool.”

  “Yeah, but she was a glass-half-empty person. There was all sorts of good stuff in her life, but she just focused on the negative. Nothing and no one was ever good enough for her. She was convinced there was always someone better waiting around the corner.” Her mouth pinched. “And there usually was.”

  It was clear Renee had not been Mathilda’s best friend. But that didn’t make the young waitress a killer. “What does that have to do with someone hanging around your apartment?”

  “I never said someone was hanging around our apartment.”

  A couple in ski gear walked inside the Barn and Brew with a standard poodle. A knife-tipped breeze flowed through the restaurant. The door drifted shut behind them.

  “Dogs are patio only,” Renee said, raising her voice. “Just find a table anywhere out there. I’ll be right with you.” She turned to me. “Listen, I—”

  “Was Mathilda an emotional train wreck about anyone in particular?” I asked quickly.

  Her gaze shifted. “She didn't get along with her stepmom.”

  Renee was the second person who’d mentioned that. Did that make it true? “Yeah, I heard her stepmother controlled her finances?”

  “It was a total pain. We could have gotten a much better apartment if her wicked stepmother hadn't been such a Scrooge.”

  “Was there anyone—”

  “Hey, Jayce.” Smiling, Brayden strode to my table and planted a kiss on my cheek that almost drove away my frustration. If it wasn’t for that messy “interfering with an investigation” business, I’d go to Renee’s apartment and drag the truth from her.

  “I figured you’d be at Ground,” he continued. Brayden wore his EMT uniform and smelled faintly of something acrid.

  Then why hadn’t he gone there? And why hadn’t he called me after I’d been released from the sheriff’s station today? I slumped in my chair. And why hadn’t I called him? Was I the problem?

  Renee hurried to the kitchen.

  “I stopped by for a late lunch,” I said, tracking Renee’s departing back.

  “There was an accident on the Four,” Brayden rumbled. “I wanted to go to you at the station, but—”

  “Of course, you couldn’t,” I said, releasing a long breath. “It’s fine.” I grasped his hand, my chest warming. He hadn’t been avoiding me. He’d been dealing with a real emergency. I looked out the nearby window. Above the pines, gray clouds roiled.

  Deputy Connor Hernandez, looking sheepish, and his baby-faced partner, Owen Denton, joined us.

  “Hey, Jayce,” Owen said. “How’s it going?”

  “Good,” I said. “Hi, Connor.”

  “No hard feelings about this morning?” he asked.

  I laughed. “You were doing your job, and I survived.” Okay, I was still a teensy bit annoyed. But I was glad to see there were no bad feelings either between Connor and Brayden after he’d dragged me to the station.

  “Want to join us?” Brayden asked me.

  I arched a brow. “You're only offering so you can bogart my fries while you wait for your food.”

  Owen grinned. “Your boyfriend doesn’t think that far ahead. But I do.”

  “Go ahead.” I motioned to my small, square table. “Have a seat.”

  They pulled a table against mine, rearranged the chairs, and joined me.

  Renee took their orders and left. She returned with their drinks, while the men pillaged my basket of parmesan fries.

  “So,” I said casually, “what's new with the murder?”

  Owen choked on his soda. “You know we can't talk about an ongoing investigation.”

  “Oh, come on.” I crossed my arms. They were really going to make me beg?

  “Seriously,” Connor said, “we can't.”

  I whipped my basket from beneath Connor’s reaching hand. “Sheriff McCourt must be looking at Paul Neumark. The guy's a stalker.”

  “Jayce…” Brayden said warningly.

  “The sheriff is exploring all avenues.” Connor’s olive-black eyes twinkled.

  “All avenues?” I said, sarcastic. “Well, that's a relief.”

  “Excuse me.” Owen scraped back his chair and ambled to the restrooms.

  Connor eyed me, his chiseled face serious. “Is there something I should know?” The deputy glanced to
ward the swinging restroom doors. “Anything, you know, unusual about the murder?”

  Brayden frowned.

  “I don't think so,” I said slowly. “But why aren’t you asking Lenore?”

  A waitress in a Barn and Brew Henley and jeans bustled past carrying a tray of food.

  Connor gazed longingly after the tray. “I did,” he said. “She was kind of evasive.”

  “And so, you thought you’d do an end run around me? Thanks a lot.” I braced my elbows on the table, head on my fists. “My turn. Did you get any evidence off that rock?”

  Connor raised a dark brow.

  “The rock Mathilda was hit with,” I said. “I found the body, you know.” But I hadn’t seen the rock. I’d gotten that nugget of info from Brayden, and I didn’t want to get him into hot water with his buddies.

  “No,” the deputy said. “We didn't. And nobody's got a good alibi, and now I've told you too much.”

  I took a bite of my cheeseburger. “Consider it payment for the fries.”

  My phone rang in my slouchy purse, and I dug it out. Lenore. “It's your girlfriend,” I told Connor.

  “Then you'd better not keep her waiting.”

  “Hey, witch,” I said. “What's up?”

  “Virikas,” she said, breathless.

  I sat up straighter. “What? Where?”

  She rattled off an address. “I happened to be walking by—”

  “Walking? Isn't the bookstore open?”

  “You know we're closed on Mondays. The point is, they're massing.”

  Breath tight, I pressed my hands to the table. More virikas. My throat squeezed. Someone was going to die.

  Owen returned and sat, smoothing his blond hair with both hands. “What’d I miss?”

  I glanced at Connor. I couldn’t say anything about the gnomes in front of Owen.

  “Do you know whose house it is?” I asked tightly.

  “Old Mr. O'Malley's.”

  “Oh, no!” I pressed my hand to my chest. I liked the old rascal. He always had a joke or a story and a smile. But he was in his nineties, so this was most likely a natural passing. “Is he alone?”

  Dishes crashed in the kitchen, and at the table, we winced.

  “No,” she said, “his driveway is filled with cars. I think all his kids are here.”

  Then definitely not a situation that needed the police. “All right. I'll be right there.”

  “Wait, what—?”

  But I'd already hung up. I looked at the phone, wondering if I should call her back. When she didn't ring me, I shrugged. If it was important, she'd phone again.

  “What's wrong?” Brayden asked.

  I flashed him a fake smile. “Nothing.” I glanced at Owen. No, I definitely couldn’t explain the virikas sitch in front of a non-magical civilian. “But I need to go. Lenore needs help with something.” I tossed some bills on the table and wrapped my burger in the greasy paper.

  “Do you want me to come?” Brayden asked.

  I slithered into my down jacket and didn’t meet his gaze. “No, no, you just ordered. Enjoy your burgers.” Rising, I kissed his cheek. “See you tonight?”

  His emerald eyes darkened with disappointment, and my chest tightened. “I have to work a double today,” he said, “remember?”

  “Sorry, I forgot.” Guiltily, I backed from the table. But I couldn't explain what was going on. Not now. “I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye, guys!”

  I hurried from the restaurant.

  Mr. O’Malley, dying. Lenore with the virkas.

  Sometimes I hate being a witch.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Muscles tight, I jogged up the steep road, lined with worn Victorians.

  Lenore's gray Volvo sheltered beneath a dying pine, and my shoulders loosened with relief. Bundled in a cream-colored coat and matching wool slacks, my sister leaned against the car and blew into her bare hands. An insulated grocery bag sat on the road near her feet. She was okay.

  My sister straightened off the blocky car. “Thanks for getting here so fast.” She nodded across the street and toward Mr. O'Malley's white two-story. Paint peeled from the slatted wood. “They keep coming,” she said in a low voice.

  Virikas in red caps swarmed the cluttered front yard. They milled beside the stubs of dormant rose bushes, mingled beneath a rusted wheelbarrow, clambered atop the cars blocking the driveway.

  “At least his family's with him.” I swallowed. “I'll miss the old guy.”

  “Yeah.” She blinked rapidly. “I keep wondering if it's our fault.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You must have noticed. Since we broke the curse, we've lost a lot of our elderly population.”

  “Our weirdly old elderly population. Mr. O'Malley's pushing a hundred.”

  “Living to a hundred isn't so unusual anymore.”

  “Living to a hundred and still playing kickball with the grandkids is.” I shifted, uncomfortable. Was it our fault? The curse had had unexpected benefits for Doyle — longevity, good luck for some, an odd, blemish-free beauty… I shivered, thinking of Mr. O'Hare and Mrs. Raven.

  “What's wrong?” she asked.

  “O'Hare and Raven. Do you think they're… normal?”

  “No. But they're human.”

  I jammed my hands into the pockets of my emerald jacket. “Are you sure about that?”

  “They're friends with Mrs. Steinberg, aren't they?”

  “I'm not sure that means much.” Mrs. Steinberg wasn’t exactly normal either. “What's in the bag?”

  “Those water balloons we magicked last November with your go-home spell. They sent something back to Fairy once before.”

  “And nearly killed me in the process.” I eyed the insulated bag. “I thought we agreed not to use them since none of us have good aim.”

  “Yes, well…” She bent and grabbed balloons from the bag, handing them to me. “There are so many virikas, we can’t miss them all, right? Besides, the balloons splatter, and they're low to the ground. The virikas are low to the ground, I mean.”

  I adjusted the pile of water balloons in my arms and glanced at the mercury sky. Behind the mass of clouds, the sun was a white half-disk, sinking behind the western mountains. The lighting wasn't great, but it was still daytime. Our neighbors might not be able to see the virikas, but they’d sure as hell see us. I looked up and down the empty street. Neither of us were exactly dressed for stealth. “If we get caught—”

  “It's going to look like we're tormenting a dying man with a juvenile prank, I know,” she whispered. Her eyebrows drew together, and she heaved a deep breath. “But we can't pass up this chance.”

  “No,” I said, not happy about it. “I guess we can't. So, what's the plan?”

  She looked at me blankly. “Plan?”

  “You didn’t expect me to have one?” I asked, half-laughing. “Planning is Karin’s deal, not mine.”

  “No, but… This is sort of like a prank, and that was always more your thing.”

  “Yeah, when I was an evil teen.”

  She gave me a look. “And you’ve changed… how?”

  “Now you’re just being mean,” I said. “Flanking motion, keep behind cars and any other cover.”

  “Flanking—?”

  I tossed my head. “You go right. I'll go left. We'll get 'em in the middle when I give the signal.”

  Lenore nodded. Grabbing the bag, she crossed the street and approached the driveway.

  The water balloons shifted in my arms. I juggled them for a moment before crossing to Mr. O'Malley's picket fence.

  Lenore crept between the cars in the driveway, and I frowned. I hadn't planned on either of us going inside O'Malley's yard. Bounded by the fence, a quick escape would be more difficult. And I didn't trust the virikas. Or our plan.

  I gritted my teeth. But I hadn't come up with any better ideas, and Lenore was moving closer to the front porch. Opening the low
gate, I edged inside.

  Most of the virikas pressed close to the shingled house. They clambered over low patches of snow beneath the eves. Their bobbing red caps lined the front porch steps. Weirdly, none had gone beyond the steps and onto the porch itself. Were they somehow prevented from crossing thresholds? Was the front porch a magical threshold?

  The creatures chittered, a low buzz that set my teeth on edge.

  Pulse rabbiting, I edged toward the furthest corner of the yard. If the red-faced gnomes noticed us, they didn't seem concerned.

  That should have worried me.

  I hefted a water balloon and nodded to Lenore. Now or never.

  And she kept moving toward the line of dirt and cropped roses in front of the porch.

  What was she doing? She'd be in the middle of the little monsters in a few steps. This wasn't a pincer action. She was putting herself in the middle of the battle.

  Mentally, I smacked myself. We'd never agreed on a signal.

  I waved.

  She waved back.

  I ground my teeth. Oh, come on!

  I mimed throwing a balloon, and she nodded.

  Augh! Did she understand or not? I shook myself. There was only one way to find out.

  I pitched a water balloon toward the crowd of virikas.

  Howling, the mass split in two. My balloon splatted harmlessly in the middle of the gap they left behind.

  “Son of a—”

  The virikas charged, a wave of shrieking red and snapping teeth.

  Frantic, I hurled balloon after balloon. The virikas dodged, breaking like waves around rocks.

  A missile hit me in the chest, knocking the wind from me. The ice ball exploded in a spray of ice and dirt and rocks.

  “Ow!” I rubbed my chest and nearly dropped the balloons.

  Lenore heaved a balloon and nailed a motionless virika dead on.

  “Yes!” Skipping backward, I punched my fist in the air and…