by Harper Lin
Purr-suasive Witches
A Wonder Cats Mystery Book 11
Harper Lin
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
PURR-SUASIVE WITCHES Copyright © 2020 by Harper Lin.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.
www.harperlin.com
Contents
1. Gingerbread House
2. Cobwebs
3. Loose Ends
4. Creepy Girl
5. The Sect of Symmetry
6. Memory Lane
7. Fast-Forward
8. Hair
9. Pillsbury Doughboy
10. Little Skull
11. Bad Meat
12. Rats in the Alleys
13. Suspicious of Everyone
14. The Cool Club
15. Seer
16. Watermelon
17. Diabolical Reasons
18. Wolf Spider
19. Peabody Street
20. Basic Brainwashing
21. Aliases
22. Electric Storm
23. Here Comes the Bride
24. Master Manipulator
25. A Real Witch
26. A Conspiracy
27. Demon Babies
About the Author
A Note From Harper
Excerpt from “Love and Murder in Savannah”
1
Gingerbread House
“Oh my gosh. That smells so good,” my cousin Bea said as we walked to the café.
“Are you serious?” I replied. “You think that smells good?”
I sniffed the air and looked around to find the source that was enticing her. It had to be coming from the arts and crafts festival, which was starting today.
“It’s intoxicating,” she replied, smiling.
“Jake, your wife has taken her pregnancy too far.” I shook my head. “What kind of altered dimension am I living in when my vegan cousin, whose mantra is ‘Lips that touch beef won’t touch mine,’ is now salivating at the smell of an outdoor barbeque?”
“Would you like me to bring you some barbeque today?” he asked lovingly while slipping his arm around her waist, which had expanded slightly with the bump in her belly.
“Oh my gosh.” I rolled my eyes. “You two are like a walking Hallmark Channel movie.”
“Yes, I’d love some barbeque. How about some ribs with a side of cheeseburger?” Bea replied, her hands folded in front of her as if she had to pray for Jake to say yes.
“Hey, I want in on that action,” I said. “Some ribs with a side of cheeseburger? Food of the gods. Make it two, Jake.”
“All right.” He smiled at Bea and kissed her on the cheek. Then she kissed him on the cheek. Then the next thing I knew, I was five paces ahead of them, talking to myself while they made out on the sidewalk like two teenagers.
“Gross,” I shouted and shook my head as I continued to the café.
The Brew-Ha-Ha Café was my home away from home. It barely felt like work, since my boss was my Aunt Astrid and my coworker was Bea. However, I had to admit that things had been getting a little snug behind the counter since Bea started to show. We were all very excited about her and Jake expecting their first baby. I was hoping for a boy. There was just something about the idea of having a little guy wearing blue and playing with trucks and soldiers and getting dirty that appealed to me. I knew they both said the same thing: “As long as the baby is healthy, we don’t care.”
I gave the front door a good yank, and it opened wide even though the sign still read CLOSED.
“Good morning,” I said to my aunt, who was also glowing with the knowledge that she was going to be a grandma in three months and two days. She had a countdown written on what used to be the Specials board.
“Good morning, Cath. Where is Bea?” Aunt Astrid asked.
“She’s causing a scandal in the middle of the street, making out with Jake like the ship is going down,” I said as I walked to the swinging kitchen door and leaned in. “Morning, Kevin!”
“Morning, Cath.” Kevin Baker was the hottest baking commodity in Wonder Falls, and he was all ours. Also, standing in the open kitchen back door was the most familiar and lovely face.
“Treacle, how did you beat me here?” I asked my black cat telepathically.
“You were going too slow.”
“Blame Bea.” I smiled and held the kitchen door open for him to slink into the main room. He hopped up onto the windowsill and collapsed in a square of sunshine, his tail lazily hanging over the edge. These days, being a witch in a small family of witches came easily. Everyone was happy, healthy, and looking forward to the arrival of Baby Greenstone. I walked back over to my aunt and gave her an affectionate pat on the back.
Finally, Bea walked in, looking all fresh and glowy, rubbing her belly, and smiling. It was no secret that Bea had always been as cute as a button. But now that she was expecting, her red hair was shinier, her eyes were brighter, her cheeks were rosier, and she was all smiles all the time.
“Good morning, honey. Good morning, baby,” Aunt Astrid said to Bea’s belly. “Grandma will make something special for you.”
“Yum,” Bea said.
“Aunt Astrid, you won’t believe what Bea has convinced Jake to get her for lunch,” I said as I began to move the napkin holders from the counter to the tables.
“What?” Aunt Astrid looked at Bea suspiciously.
“A slab of ribs with a cheeseburger chaser,” I replied. “Thank goodness he’s getting one for me too. I couldn’t bear to let her dive into red meat headfirst without my full support.”
Aunt Astrid gasped. “Bea, you are already wrapped around that baby’s finger. Is Jake bringing you lunch here?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, I’m going to get a picture of this.” Aunt Astrid pulled her camera out of her pocket. Ever since Bea had announced she was expecting, my aunt had carried her camera around and snapped pictures of both of us, recording every image that had anything to do with the baby.
“I want a copy,” I piped up.
“You are both acting like having cravings is something strange. I’m sure that even this will pass as soon as the baby is born. But if this little angel has a taste for ribs and a cheeseburger, that’s what he or she is going to get,” Bea said as she bumped me with her belly while scooting past me to get behind the counter.
“You might want to get some olive oil and lube up that belly of yours so you can slide back and forth behind the counter,” I joked. “How many more months do you have?”
“Three more,” Bea said.
“I think your doctor predicted the date wrong,” I said, patting her bump. “If you start going into labor, just look to the floor, because that’s where I’ll be, having passed out.”
“Hardy-har-har,” Bea said. “And don’t talk like that. You know I’m going to need you in the delivery room.”
“What?” I choked on the air. I loved Bea as if she were my own sister. But the thought of being in the room with her and Jake while she was having the baby made my hands go numb with terror… and disgust.
“You, my mom, and me. We have to be together in order for the baby-birthing ritual to work and protect the baby as he or she enters the world,”
Bea whispered. She shrugged at me as if this was nothing more than picking up a puppy at the shelter.
“Aunt Astrid, can I participate in the baby-birthing ritual from the hallway?” I asked, making them laugh even though I was deadly serious.
Still, talk about the baby and names and the nursery was all fun. I was enjoying the idea of being that aunt who would put hexes on the bullies at school and teach the little guy how to study for a test without cracking a book, simple tricks that we witches were privy to. I was ready for babysitting, and even the idea of changing diapers didn’t deter me. It was a happy time. Except when Bea was hungry. And that was pretty much anytime she didn’t have food in her hand.
“Let this grandma-to-be fix you some hearty oatmeal with fruit and raisins and cinnamon and all those good things you like,” Aunt Astrid fussed. “Cath, would you like some too?”
“No. I’m going to wait for lunch,” I said, pointing to Bea. “And I’ve got my camera waiting.” She stuck her tongue out at me while squeezing back and forth behind the counter. We all chatted about nothing in particular. The warm weather was bringing in a lot more foot traffic. We talked about getting a permit to have seating outside.
“Did you hear about that accident at that little cottage you always liked over on Peabody Street?” Aunt Astrid asked me.
“You mean the Gingerbread House?” I gasped. Over on Peabody Street was a Cape Cod–style house painted in brown and cream that looked as if it had been plucked out of “Hansel and Gretel” and dropped into Wonder Falls. Pretty red tulips sprang up every spring, yellow daisies overran the flower boxes in the summer, and lush orange maple trees surrounded the yard each fall. The driveway was cobblestoned. A stone chimney stood proudly on the north side of the house, and there was a matching gazebo connected by a stone path out in the backyard. It was a house truly suitable for a witch like me. It had gone up for sale six months ago, but it was way, way, way out of my price range. Still, I loved to admire it.
“Yes. It’s in the paper,” Aunt Astrid replied, pointing to the newspaper on the counter. “Seems there was a murder-suicide.”
“What? There was a suicide in that adorable little house?” I balked.
“Oh, that breaks my heart,” Bea said.
“I know. Who could be suicidal in that beautiful home?” I continued.
“Cath.” Bea shook her head. “Suicide is never about what people have on the outside. It’s what’s missing on the inside.”
“I know, Bea.” I went and patted her hand.
As an empath, she took any tragedy like this to heart. I knew exactly what she was thinking. If only she had taken hold of the afflicted person before it was too late, she’d have instantly been able to spot the sickness of the heart and maybe, just maybe, been able to ease the sadness or remove the parasite causing it.
“According to the paper, there was some kind of love triangle.” Aunt Astrid shrugged.
“Who killed who?” I asked as I turned the Closed sign to read Open.
“She killed him and then herself. No children,” Aunt Astrid replied.
“Thank goodness for that,” Bea said, patting her belly.
“They were newlyweds if I remember right,” I thought out loud. The Brew-Ha-Ha had been in operation in Wonder Falls for so long that we had a steady stream of regulars. When any of us saw an unfamiliar face, we instinctively welcomed them. And I remembered the couple especially, since they had bought the house I coveted.
“That’s what the article said,” my aunt replied.
“Gosh, that’s really too bad. Now that house is back on the market, and I still don’t have the money to buy it,” I muttered. “Unless the price went down due to the circumstances of its sudden vacancy.”
Bea looked at me as if she smelled something foul. I shrugged.
The little bells attached to the front door began to jingle, thankfully pulling the attention away from me and my covetous behavior toward the little Gingerbread House and putting it where it belonged: on our customers.
2
Cobwebs
Bea’s specialty teas were in high demand along with Kevin’s gourmet muffins, breads, and salads. The morning rush was always fun. Time flew. When we finally got a breather in between the before-work crowd and the lunchtime swarm, it felt like only fifteen minutes had gone by instead of three hours.
“Cath, honey, there was something I wanted to ask you to do for me. But what was it?” Aunt Astrid tapped her chin as she stared into space, changing the subject.
I knew what it was, but I didn’t want to say it out loud. We had lovely summer solstice decorations that had to be pulled down from the storage space. That was my job, but I was putting it off due to the fact that after the wet weather of spring, the spiders always seemed to love our summer solstice décor and would congregate around the boxes. I needed a hazmat suit that covered me from head to toe before I’d go disturbing any arachnid dwellings.
“Cath, can you get those boxes of decorations down today?” My aunt read my thoughts. And that wasn’t even her gift. She could see other dimensions besides this one like layers of tracing paper stacked over each other. As far as I knew, she hadn’t developed the skill of reading minds… yet.
“I would, but I’m not wearing a hoodie,” I said plainly.
“What does wearing a hoodie have to do with anything?” Bea asked.
“It covers my head,” I said, rolling my eyes as if this was all the reply they needed.
They both looked at me as if I’d just announced I had seen a rhinoceros outside the bank kitty-corner from us.
“If I don’t cover my head, I might get cobwebs in my hair. Or worse. You know? Worse?”
“Cath, I really want to get the place decorated. Once you are over your strange fit, please bring down those boxes,” Aunt Astrid said as she took her seat at her favorite table next to the counter to start work on the books, receipts, and payments due.
“There are spiders up there. What if I get one on me? Just let me do it tomorrow,” I protested.
“Thank you, honey. You are such a good employee,” Aunt Astrid said as she went back to her books.
“I have an idea, Cath,” Bea said as she slid herself out from behind the counter.
Before I could say no, she had me wrapped up in a makeshift raincoat made out of large garbage bags and duct tape.
“How do I look?” I asked her as I took hold of the latch that opened the storage space. It wasn’t a very large door; it was just big enough for me or Bea—well, Bea prepregnancy—to squeeze into. The boxes were in just far enough that a person would have to kneel on the edge and lean their entire torso into the spider den.
“You look like the Terminator.” She smiled. “Now go show those tiny, petrified, harmless little bugs who’s boss.” She clapped me on the back.
I wasn’t happy. But I did as I was told. Within seconds, I had the first box in my rubber-gloved hands and was yanking it out of the space with relative ease. The second box was a little trickier, because it was set back farther. Of course it was. It was hung up on an uneven floorboard. It had to be. So I had to lean in farther.
“You okay?” Bea asked, and I could hear the laughter just behind her words.
“I’m fine,” I snapped as I gave the box a good yank.
“You need any help?” Bea snickered.
“What are you going to do, Wide Load? Come in here and help. We’ll be wedged in like sardines. I’ll have an anxiety attack. The fire department will have to get us out with the Jaws of Life.”
By this time, Bea was not trying to hide her laughter.
Finally, with one hard tug, I was able to free the box and pull it toward me. As usual, it was covered in cobwebs, but I did not see any living eight-legged devils on it. With a sigh, I lugged it out of the tiny space, hearing a gentle jingle of the decorations inside, and set the box on the floor. When I turned to face Bea, I saw her smiling proudly, about to speak, when her eyes focused on something that made her mouth
fall open and her eyes bug out.
“Cath, don’t move,” she said.
“Why?” I was sure she was just teasing me. My aunt and cousin knew full well about my arachnophobia. Sure, it was a little over the top. Maybe I over-reacted at times.
“Just let me get the broom,” Bea said and dashed into the kitchen, where the brooms and dustpans were.
I stood still and looked down the front of my garbage-bag suit and saw nothing. I looked over my arms and, aside from dust, saw nothing there, either. With confidence, I brushed away the hair that was tickling my cheek and reached to push in the kitchen door. Then I saw it. It hadn’t been hair tickling my face. It was…a spider. The size of a hubcap. On my hand. It had just been on my face. And I hadn’t known it.
Bea burst through the swinging kitchen door with a broom in each hand. “Don’t move!” she shouted.
“What’s going on back there?” Aunt Astrid called.
“Get it off me!” I screamed as I held my hand out, hoping the natural tremor in my body would shake the creature to the floor. But it clung to me as if I was the last life preserver on the Titanic.
“Hold still!” Bea raised one of the brooms over her head.
“I can’t!” I squealed and violently shook my hand up and down, only to scare the thing into bolting up my arm in search of a safer place. I swept my other arm over my sleeve, trying not to touch the creature long enough for it to take hold of that limb. All the while, I was unaware of the fact that I was on tiptoes, hopping back and forth from one to the other.
