Witch Trials (A Mackenzie Coven Mystery Book 5)

by Sonia Parin

  Luna hit an ominous high note on the piano and leaped up onto the table. “An empty page?”

  “Precisely. All the other pages are full. Someone removed a picture from this one.”

  Luna stilled. “I hear someone coming. The killer. The killer is coming. Run for your life.” She leaped off the table and disappeared behind a stack of boxes.

  “You’re really determined to live to tell the tale.”

  “Someone has to,” Luna whispered.

  “Yes, Jonathan. My personal chronicler.”

  “I don’t trust him to portray me in a favorable light.”

  The attic door creaked open.

  At the last minute, Lexie dove behind a large wooden crate and crouched down.

  “Can you see who it is?” Luna asked.

  I think it’s Marcela.

  “I know you’re here. I can hear your cat.”

  Luna screeched.

  You gave us away.

  Chapter Twelve

  Poke your head out and see if she’s armed.

  “Me?”

  Lexie gave Luna a light shove. Screeching, Luna took a giant leap, and in midair, disappeared.

  “You shouldn’t be in here. I’m warning you...”

  “There must be something in here she doesn’t want us to find,” Luna whispered.

  Hush. She can hear you.

  In the next instance, Lexie heard something soft falling.

  “Argh!” Luna screeched, “The light’s gone out. I can’t see. I think she threw something over me. Hang on. What’s happening?”

  “I have your cat.”

  “I’m trapped. Is this how it all ends for me? Help!”

  Lexie surged to her feet and threw herself at Marcela, wrapping her arms around her neck. In that split second, she thought about binding her. “Hey. Put her down.”

  “Let go of me. What are you doing?”

  “Luna. You have my permission to bite her.” Lexie tried to shift her arms, but they remained stubbornly locked around Marcela’s neck... as if...

  Ooops.

  Had she... maybe... somehow, used her magic to physically bind Marcela... with her arms?

  When Marcela swung around, Lexie fell backward but as she couldn’t let go of her, she brought Marcela down with her.

  “What’s going on? Talk to me,” Luna hollered, “I’m being flung about like a cat in a hessian bag. I’m a superior feline companion. This sort of treatment is unacceptable.”

  “Let go of me,” Marcela wailed.

  “You let go of Luna first.” By which time, Lexie would have hopefully figured out how to undo her accidental binding.

  “There is such a thing as compromise,” Luna said, “You could both let go. I strongly suggest that you do because if I have to scratch my way out of here, there’ll be hell to pay. I hate this. You’re forcing me to resort to feral behavior...”

  Huffing out a breath, Marcela released the throw rug she’d used to capture Luna.

  Luna leaped out from beneath it and rushed toward Marcela, her claws extended.

  “Call her off.”

  “Luna. Behave yourself. What will Jonathan make of your unladylike behavior?”

  Grumbling, Luna backed away and licked her paw.

  Marcela wriggled in her arms. “Is your cat always so combative?”

  “Only when cornered.”

  “Okay. I’ve let go of her, now you have to release me.”

  Umm...

  Lexie tried to move her fingers.

  “Well?”

  “Don’t do anything funny.” If her fingers could respond, then surely the rest of her would too.

  “Just let go of me.”

  On the count of three, Lexie thought...

  Release!

  Lexie’s hands eased their hold.

  Marcela scrambled back. “You’re both nuts. What do you mean by attacking me? In my own attic.”

  “You started it.” Lexie surged to her feet and brushed back her hair. “Now, would you care to explain yourself?”

  “Me? What about you? The attic is out of bounds to guests. What are you doing here?”

  “We’re looking for proof that you contrived to have us brought here.”

  Luna tilted her head. “Really? Oh... yes.”

  Marcela made a point of dusting herself off.

  “Well? What have you got to say to that?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Okay, but you came up here for a reason. I don’t want to think it’s because you heard us talking about the killer,” she said, her tone suggesting otherwise...

  Marcela lifted her chin. “You know I can hear your cat. And... I have a vested interest in all this. I had to come and see what you and your cat were up to.”

  Hearing Luna’s whine, Lexie sighed. Somehow, she knew she’d end up paying for the insults.

  “It’s time to come clean, Marcela. You’re hiding something and it has something to do with us. I’m going to get to the bottom of it, even if I have to sift through every item in this attic.” Her arms flapped about. As she gazed around her, a surge of impatience roared through her. It would take her an eternity to sift through everything.

  She emphasized her point by waving her hand about.

  A sprinkle of light shot out of her and swept around the attic. In the blink of an eye, everything lifted and shuffled about, settling down gently in an orderly fashion.

  Marcela yelped. “What did you do?”

  Luna raced up to her. “Did you just do all that?”

  “Me?”

  “You.” Marcela jabbed her finger at her. “You found the Hensley power.” She lunged at Lexie. “Give it to me. It’s mine.”

  Lexie managed to sidestep her. “Stay back or... or I’ll bind you.” She stretched her hands out for effect. It did the trick.

  Marcela stepped back and slammed her hands against her hips. “You have no right to that power. It’s mine.”

  “What power are you actually referring to?”

  “You know full well what I’m talking about.”

  “Aha!”

  “Aha what?”

  She looked down at her hands and flexed her fingers. She didn’t feel any different. Yet... there was something. Something surging through her—A tremendous need to find a place for everything because... everything needed to have a place.

  Had she really taken possession of the Hensley power?

  How?

  Had it always been inside her, waiting to be stirred awakened?

  “There’s a photo missing in one of the albums. I’m willing to bet anything it’s a photo of me taken when we went back into the past.”

  “The past? When did you do that?”

  “Long story. And... Stop pretending that you know nothing about it. Just answer the question.”

  Marcela shifted and looked away.

  “Admit it. You had something, everything to do with bringing us here.”

  “Yes,” Marcela hissed out. Swinging around, she raked her fingers through her hair. “When I found the photo, I knew it had to be a clue. Your clothes didn’t match the time period. And that’s when I started researching the photo. It took me three months to put a name to the face and then I found another clue.”

  Luna leaped up onto the piano and walked over a few keys, giving the effect of suspense.

  Marcela sunk down onto a pile of old newspapers. “I told you my great granny kept a journal. She mentioned her special friend, Tillie, and expressed her gratitude for her friend’s assistance. I had no idea what she could have been referring to, but then I began to hope. I waded through entry after entry looking for clues. A word here. A phrase there. Finally, it all began to make sense. She’d bestowed her powers to her friend for safekeeping.” Marcela turned to Lexie, her expression stern. “Temporary safekeeping. I just didn’t know what it meant... How they’d managed to do it. But now I see my great granny simply transferred her powers to her friend. Your great aunt.
”

  “I get the feeling she is holding you responsible for something.” Luna hit another key. “And it does all begin to make sense. Remember the Latin phrase inscribed on the ceiling. Circle of Friends.”

  “My great aunt Tillie?” Yes, they had assumed Tillie had somehow acquired the powers...

  “You inherited her powers.”

  She had?

  Luna gave her a puzzled expression. “Didn’t you know?”

  Lexie gritted her teeth. “I would have known if someone had bothered to tell me.”

  “And now I have proof.” Marcela gestured with her hand. “You organized the attic. With. My. Powers.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I really didn’t mean to do it. It just happened.” Lexie shook her hands. She didn’t want powers that didn’t belong to her.

  Luna. How do I get rid of them?

  She tucked her hair back. After a few seconds, she tucked it again and made sure one side was balanced with the other. “Argh! I’m organizing my hair.”

  “Your new powers have surfaced.” Luna ran across the piano keys and stopped abruptly.

  “I don’t want them. You can have them.”

  Marcela narrowed her gaze.

  I don’t like the way she’s looking at me.

  “Mm. Yes, I can see it. She’s looking at you with murderous intention. She looks about ready to wrench the powers out of you.”

  Marcela rose to her feet and took a step toward her.

  Lexie stumbled back. “Do not come any closer.”

  “If you want to look convincing, you need to stand your ground,” Luna suggested, “As an incoming High Chair, you can’t allow her to gain the upper hand. In fact, in your place, I would demand that she bend a knee.”

  Both Lexie and Marcela frowned at Luna.

  “Bend a knee?”

  “Yes,” Luna said, “Show a sign of submission and subjugation.”

  Turning back to Marcela, Lexie drew in a calming breath. “We can sort this out. There must be an easy way. If your great granny trusted Tillie with her powers, then... they must have known it could eventually be transferred to its rightful owner...”

  “Are you saying you don’t want them for yourself?”

  Lexie chortled. “Organizational skills? What would I need them for? I have Octavia to keep me organized.”

  Marcela’s shoulders relaxed and she blew out a huff of breath.

  Lexie held up a finger. “Just to be clear, this has nothing to do with Lauren and Lance being killed... Right?”

  Marcela looked confused. “Oh... yes... no. Nothing.”

  “That’s disappointing,” Luna murmured, “I was rather hoping all this could be wrapped up. I’d really like to get to the market and select my Amish quilt.”

  “Okay. So how do we do this?” Lexie asked.

  Marcela shrugged. “I thought you might know.”

  “You must have innate organizational skills. Surely you can come up with a feasible plan.”

  Luna hit a series of keys as if composing a lazy tune. “You could consult with Octavia.”

  Oh, she hadn’t thought of that.

  Octavia.

  Octavia yelped. “Please tell me you’re not coming back just yet...”

  Lexie stepped out of the attic saying, “Excuse me a moment.” She didn’t need anyone hearing her super efficient personal assistant coming undone. “Are you alright, Octavia?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? You know you can rely on me for... anything and everything.”

  “Just asking.”

  “So... how can I help you?”

  Lexie explained the situation; stopping every now and then to convince herself it was all true. The Hensley power had been inside her, waiting to be awakened, right along with her inherited powers...

  “I wish I could have been there,” Octavia exclaimed. “I seem to always miss out on the best parts.”

  “So... Do you have any idea how I can transfer the powers to Marcela?”

  “What did the inscription on the ceiling say?”

  “Circle of Friends.”

  “I think that might the key. Great granny Hensley trusted Tillie because they were friends. How well do you know Marcela?”

  “I only just met her and... she’s a... sort of suspect. As in, not yet fully cleared of culpability.”

  “I see you’ve acquired more than a few new powers. Did you get the Concise Oxford English Dictionary or the Merriam-Webster?”

  “Um, I didn’t specify. And... How did you know?” Lexie grumbled. “Never mind that. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “You need to become fast friends. That would be a great start.”

  Lexie peered at Marcela and whispered, “I don’t think she likes me that much. In fact, I’m sure she resents me.”

  “You’ll have to work around it.”

  “We’re right in the middle of a murder investigation. I don’t have time for friends.”

  “A true friend would make time.”

  “Okay. And then what do I do?”

  Octavia hummed under her breath. “When the time is right, the solution will come to you.”

  “Did you just make that up?”

  “No. It’s common knowledge. Even if I knew the exact answer and gave it to you right now, it might not work because you need to fully embrace the idea. It has to come from your heart.”

  Her heart?

  “You know. True friendship.”

  “Which part of ‘She doesn’t like me’ didn’t you get?”

  “Try liking her unconditionally. Sorry, that’s the best I can do. Now... if there’s nothing more, I really do need to get cracking with... things.”

  Biting her lip, Lexie strode back inside the attic and found Marcela admiring the tidy stack of boxes, her hands lovingly brushing along each one.

  She turned, her eyes wide with expectation. “Well? Did your personal assistant have a solution?”

  Lexie didn’t want to disappoint her. “Sure. Easy as pie.”

  Marcela rushed toward her. “How... how do we do it?”

  “Right... well. We... have to become fast friends... the way your great granny was with Tillie.”

  Marcela’s shoulders slumped. “Oh. I see.”

  Luna tapped a key. “Octavia threw you a curve ball. This will be interesting in a high degree of difficulty sort of way.”

  “What do you mean? I’m... likeable.”

  “Sure you are,” Luna teased.

  Marcela lifted her chin a notch. “I’m up for the challenge. Are you?”

  “Fine. Whatever. Meanwhile... We still have a killer to catch. Any ideas?” Lexie picked up a fan and, with a flick of her wrist, opened it.

  “That was a gift from Tillie to Emily Hensley. My great granny cherished it. Tillie brought it back from Japan. She was quite an adventuress in her time and always brought something special back for Emily. They grew up together...”

  Lexie felt a twinge of envy. She’d never enjoyed that closeness with a friend. Sure, she had friends but... no one who came close to taking the place of a sister. Not that she actually had a sister.

  “You have two cousins.” Luna prowled her way through the maze of boxes, peering at her from time to time. “They’re your friends. I’m sure they are...”

  “I’m not talking to them at the moment.” But she knew she could call on them for help. Lexie played around with a few platitudes. Friends stuck to you through thick and thin.

  “Like me,” Luna chirped. “We’re friends.”

  “We’re conditional friends,” Lexie clarified.

  “I’ll take you anyway you come.”

  “Oh, yeah? What if I don’t get you an Amish quilt?”

  Luna poked her little head out from among a pile of fabric samples. “Why wouldn’t you get me a quilt? I’m adorable and I deserve one.”

  Lexie turned to Marcela. “How exactly did you organize to get me here?”

  “Oh... I sort of... approac
hed the council for assistance.”

  I knew it. They’re involved.

  “And?”

  “They put me onto someone who made a few suggestions. She was quite happy to assist. In the end, she asked me to leave matters in her capable hands. Sorry, I can’t reveal her name. She swore me to secrecy.”

  Mirabelle. She’d suspected her from the start... It had to be her... “Yes, but... how did she manage it?”

  “It all happened through Doctor Shrink.”

  “I knew it,” Luna exclaimed. “She must be the killer.”

  All the thoughts she’d been entertaining about the murder shifted in her mind and settled with greater clarity. “Hang on. The shrink... Who else did she refer to you?”

  “Several clients. Let’s see... Lauren and Lance. The Andrews couple. Bill and Susan Faraday. Oh, and Emily and Kenneth Grant.”

  “Emily and Kenneth Grant?”

  “Yes.”

  Why would they have gone to see the shrink? In fact, why would any of them seek therapy? Lana and Andrew were having marital problems. Her and Luna had been sent because of Luna’s biting... But what about the others?

  She’d been suspicious of Emily Grant after she supposedly planted a suggestion in Lexie to order blueberry pie.

  “I see you remembered,” Luna purred.

  Yes... Her thoughts had suddenly undergone a Spring clean... Had Emily Grant also, somehow... managed to lure Lauren to her death with a suggestion she read the incantation indoors?

  “Hang on. The shrink’s based in Manhattan. Everyone you mentioned is from out of state. Who’d travel so far to see a shrink?”

  Both Marcela and Luna gave her a curved eyebrow look that came close to questioning her intelligence.

  Okay, maybe she was missing something. Something obvious.

  “Here’s a hint,” Luna offered. “Every time you do it, you land in a closet.”

  Oh... Right.

  “But... Some of the couples drove here. At least, I assume they did. There are cars parked outside.”

  “And your point is?” Marcela asked.