A Drop of Witch (Sweetland Witch Women Sleuths) (A Cozy Mystery Book)

by Zoe Arden

  “Margaret!” I cried before I could stop myself.

  “Hello, Ava.”

  Margaret Binford stood at the door. Her violet eyes flashed at me, making her look all the move evil. Her snow-white hair was piled high in a tight bun, and she wore a dress with a high collar. She looked like an old schoolmarm.

  “Margaret,” I said, trying to regain my composure. “What are you doing here?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? Lottie called me. Paisley was a dear friend of mine. Practically my best friend. I came the second I heard.” Margaret wrapped her arm around Lottie, who honked loudly into a tissue.

  “Oh, Lottie,” Eleanor said, suddenly remembering herself. “Please, come in.” Lottie stepped inside, and Margaret followed her. Eleanor closed the door and led them to the kitchen, where Trixie and my father stood with astonished looks on their faces. My father was the smart one. He got out of there before he could get in Margaret’s way.

  “Nice to see you,” he murmured. “I need to make some phone calls.” And he was off. He cast a glance back over his shoulder in my direction and offered a shrug of apology. I didn’t hold it against him. Sometimes you had to save yourself.

  Lottie sank into a chair at the table and began to sob. “H-h-how did it h-h-happen?” she cried. “W-w-what was she doing therrrrrreee?”

  “We were hoping you could tell us,” Eleanor said, offering Lottie a glass of lemonade.

  “No, thank you,” Lottie said through her sobs.

  “I’ll take one,” Margaret said, smiling a wide, toothy grin.

  Eleanor poured Margaret a lemonade and set out a plate of chocolate chip happiness cookies left over from the party. Lottie took one and began to nibble on it.

  “Sheriff Knoxx thinks that Paisley used our skeleton key to get inside the bakery,” Trixie said. “Do you have any idea why she might do such a thing?”

  “A skeleton key?” Margaret asked. “I seriously doubt that. Paisley wasn’t the type to steal things.”

  “I found it myself,” Trixie said.

  “That proves nothing,” Margaret said. “For all we know, someone killed poor Paisley in a different location entirely and moved her to the bakery.”

  I looked at Eleanor and could tell she was thinking the same thing as me—it wasn’t a bad idea and why hadn’t we thought of that ourselves?

  “But why would anyone do that?” Trixie asked.

  “I haven’t a clue,” Margaret said. “But why would Paisley break into your bakery? Your cookies aren’t that good.” She smiled ruefully at us as she drank her lemonade.

  Usually, it was Eleanor who had to restrain Trixie. This time, it was the other way around. Trixie stepped in front of Eleanor, blocking her before she could take a magical punch at Margaret.

  “So, why are you here, precisely?” Eleanor asked through clenched teeth.

  “We’re here to find out what happened to Paisley,” Margaret said.

  Lottie let out a loud wail and stuffed three more cookies into her mouth. The wailing stopped.

  “These are excellent,” Lottie said. “Perhaps I’ll take that lemonade after all.”

  Eleanor handed her a glass and drew in a deep breath.

  “I noticed Detective Hudson outside,” Margaret continued. “I’m going to offer my services to him.”

  “Your... services?” I asked, thinking I must be misunderstanding something.

  “Yes. I may no longer be head of the Witch’s Council, but I still have many friends on it. Many powerful friends. I can be of great use in this case. Detective Hudson is going to need all the help he can get, especially considering the people he’s working with.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Eleanor snapped.

  “Well, you can’t leave it all to Sheriff Knoxx and that idiot sidekick of his.”

  I felt a surge of protectiveness for Otis Winken.

  “Sheriff Knoxx is more than capable—” Eleanor stammered, red in the face.

  “More than capable?” Margaret laughed. “Of course. That’s why so many people were killed during that whole thing with the draugr.”

  “That wasn’t his fault,” I said.

  “Of course not. Those goblins certainly didn’t help matters, did they?”

  “There is nothing wrong with goblins!” Eleanor screeched.

  I jumped between her and Margaret, afraid she was about to throw a fit. I’d never seen her face get so red. Her hand was halfway to her nose, and I sensed a spell coming on.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Margaret exclaimed, acting shocked at Eleanor’s reaction. “I don’t trust that detective out there much more either. Isn’t he the one who arrested the wrong person for those killings over summer?”

  “Yes, but he just made a mistake,” I said, feeling my own defensiveness creep in. But why should I feel the need to defend Colt? I mean, Detective Hudson? After all, Margaret was right.

  “I see,” Margaret said and left it at that. She was an expert at goading people into a fight.

  Lottie sat there contentedly eating her cookies.

  Suddenly, Margaret’s eyes widened. “Is that a ring you’re wearing, Eleanor?”

  Eleanor blushed and looked from Trixie to me. “Yes,” she mumbled, trying to hide her hand.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. Let me see it.”

  Reluctantly, Eleanor showed us all her hand. Trixie’s eyes widened. “Oh, my roses,” she whispered. “You’re engaged? How did I miss that?”

  “There’s been a lot going on the last few days,” Eleanor said. It was true, too. Between the party, Paisley’s death, and Polly’s escape, there had hardly been time to think. And New Year’s Eve was just four days away. Even though this time it was Mayor Singer throwing the party, that didn’t mean the bakery wasn’t booked solid for lucky cakes. I hoped we didn’t have to cancel all those orders because we were closed.

  Margaret’s eyes narrowed at Eleanor, then it was as if she caught herself. “Congratulations!” she said, sweeping a very surprised Eleanor into a bear hug. “No wonder you’re so defensive of the sheriff. You’re just defending your man.”

  “Congratulations,” Lottie mumbled between bites.

  “Yes,” Trixie said uncertainly, “congratulations.” She hugged her sister, looking at her with such disbelief that I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was she upset that Trixie hadn’t told her? Or was she upset that Eleanor was engaged? They’d always been very close, maybe Trixie was afraid of losing her sister.

  “We should go,” Margaret said. “I’m sure you and Sheriff Knoxx will be very happy together. He’s a lovely man.”

  I silently congratulated Eleanor for not calling Margaret out on her obvious condescending attitude and making things worse.

  “I’ll speak with Detective Hudson on my way out and let him know I am on this case,” Margaret said over her shoulder.

  “Margaret,” I said, “Detective Hudson doesn’t need your help. Trust me.”

  “Trust you? Oh, dear girl, I never trust anyone. And neither should you. Besides, I’m going to help whether anyone likes it or not. Paisley was my friend, and I will not let her murderer go unpunished. If it’s left to the lot of you, that’s certainly what will happen.”

  I watched through the window as Margaret steered Lottie toward Detective Hudson. Poor Colt. I mean, Detective Hudson. He looked miserable as Lottie spoke to him. When she finally left, he shoved his hands into his pockets and shook his head. I guess whether we wanted it or not, we were getting Margaret’s help.

  * * *

  0 6

  * * *

  “Would you stop following me?” I asked.

  “No.”

  I eyed Detective Hudson irritably and quickened my pace.

  “Do you really think that Polly is going to jump out at me while I’m walking down the street in broad daylight?”

  “Yes.”

  I stopped and turned to him. “You do?”

  “In my experience, an escaped convict will do most anythi
ng to get what they want.”

  I started walking again, slower this time.

  “Polly and I...” But I realized I had nowhere good to go with that statement. Polly and I what? Polly and I are enemies? Polly and I hate each other? Whatever I said would only support Detective Hudson’s case that he should be sticking to me like glue.

  “I know that Polly blames me for losing her powers, but certainly she blames others, too. What about Dean Lampton? Or my aunts? Or you? Why is COMHA so sure it’s me she’s coming for?”

  Detective Hudson’s face turned a light shade of yellow. I had no idea what that meant. I’d never seen anyone turn yellow before.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he replied. “I’m just... I haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “You don’t have to spend the night in your car all the time, watching the house.”

  “Yes. I do. It’s my job.” He paused a second. “Unless that was an invitation to set things up inside your house like I wanted to do in the first place.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  We continued walking in silence.

  “You never answered my question. Why is the Council on Magic and Human Affairs so certain that it’s me Polly is coming after?”

  “We have our sources,” he said, keeping his answer as vague as possible.

  “Great. I’m sure your sources are never wrong. Paisley’s death occurring the day after Polly escaped is just a coincidence, right?”

  “Ava,” Detective Hudson said, placing his hand on my arm.

  “We’re here,” I announced, shaking him off.

  He looked at the sign on the door. “Coffee Cove? This is where you were rushing off to?”

  “That’s right. Can’t I get a coffee and say hi to my friend without it warranting an investigation? Stay out here.”

  I opened the door and stepped inside. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans filled my nostrils, waking me up. Someone bumped into me, and I turned to see Detective Hudson standing there.

  “I thought I told you to stay outside.”

  “You did. But just because you told me to do something doesn’t mean I have to do it.” He smiled sarcastically at me and for some reason, my heart fluttered.

  Of course, my heart is fluttering. The man is as irritating as a flat tire.

  “Hey,” Lucy said when she saw me. Her younger sister, Megan, was standing in back looking bored, as usual.

  “Hi,” I replied, watching Detective Hudson from the corner of my eye. He was standing right next to me.

  I had wanted to talk to Lucy about Paisley, but not with him here. He was driving me nuts. I wanted to have one minute to myself. I couldn’t work out whether I believed Polly had killed Paisley or not. Polly was the obvious choice, but Paisley had a lot of enemies. Like Mayor Singer.

  I didn’t know Mayor Singer very well. He seemed like a nice enough man, but everyone had their breaking point. Was it possible that Mistmoor Point’s mayor had a grudge against Paisley? He’d been at the party, too. He could just as easily have snagged that skeleton key as Paisley.

  “What would you like?” Detective Hudson asked. “My treat.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “I insist. My small way of making up for being such a nag.”

  “A very small way,” I replied, not looking at him.

  I caught Lucy smirking at us.

  “Fine. Iced chai chipper latte, please.”

  “And I’ll take a coffee. Black.”

  Lucy and I stared at him. “Black coffee?” I asked.

  “You don’t want something a little more...” Lucy tried to find the right word.

  “Exciting?” I asked.

  “Coffee. Black,” he repeated.

  Lucy shrugged. “I’ll bring them to you.”

  I saw Melbourne, the owner of Coffee Cove, smile and wave. I waved back. He called out to me from across the room.

  “Ava, can you let your Aunt Trixie know I’ve been a bit busy but I’ll call her tonight?”

  I nodded.

  “Thanks!”

  Detective Hudson and I took some seats.

  “So,” I said.

  “So.”

  We sat in awkward silence, waiting for our drinks.

  “When can my aunts reopen the bakery?”

  “When we determine precisely how Paisley was killed and why she was killed in The Mystic Cupcake.”

  “That could take forever! Eleanor and Trixie can’t afford to keep the bakery closed indefinitely.”

  “I spoke with Dr. Dunne this morning. He’s running some toxicology tests, and we should get results in the next few days.”

  “You mean he doesn’t know how she died yet?”

  I could tell that he was uncomfortable. “Not precisely. No.”

  “Coffee’s up,” Lucy said, smiling as she set down our drinks.

  “Thanks,” I told her. She winked at me and shot a quick glance to Detective Hudson before going back to the counter. I tried to think of some way to make small talk, but it seemed like no matter what I said, Detective Hudson was going to annoy me. Better to keep my mouth shut.

  The door chimed. I turned to see Damon walk in. He spotted me at the table with Detective Hudson and his face flushed.

  “Hi,” he said, coming up to me and kissing my cheek. Detective Hudson looked like he would have liked nothing better than to leave, but he stayed where he was.

  “What are you two doing here?” Damon asked.

  “Drinking coffee,” Detective Hudson snapped.

  I looked at him, surprised at his attitude. Then again, he wasn’t much of a people person.

  “I just wanted to get out of the house,” I told him.

  “You should have called me,” Damon said. “I’d have been happy to take you somewhere.”

  He was right. It hadn’t even crossed my mind to ask Damon if he wanted to join me. Why was that?

  “She didn’t need to call you,” Detective Hudson said. “I’m more than capable of protecting her.”

  “Yes, but you’re less than capable of carrying on a conversation. Ava likes to talk.” He put his arm around my shoulder.

  Whoa. What was happening here? They were acting like jealous lovers. I saw Lucy watching us out of the corner of my eye. I knew she couldn’t possibly have heard what was being said with the silencing enchantments around every table for privacy, but their expressions were enough.

  “Um, I think we’re gonna go,” I said to Detective Hudson, rising from the table.

  “Good, let’s move out,” the detective said.

  “I meant me and Damon,” I told him.

  He looked hard at me. “I’m not leaving your side. I’ve told you that. It’s my job.”

  “Is it your job to be a jerk?” Damon spat.

  “No, that job is already taken,” Detective Hudson said.

  Before I could stop Damon, his fist was flying through the air. Detective Hudson blinked and wiggled his nose. Damon fell backward.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, helping him up. “What the...” My voice trailed off as I took in Damon’s new appearance. Two giant antlers had sprouted from his head. “Oh, my roses.”

  I looked at Detective Hudson, who was smirking. Without even thinking about it, I picked my drink off the table and threw it in his face. Iced latte dripped down his chin and stained his shirt. I jumped back, shocked at what I’d just done.

  “Come on,” I said and tugged Damon’s arm. I was afraid he might not go, but as more and more people began to stare, his feet started moving. I shot one last look back at Detective Hudson. He was standing with chai latte dripping down his chin and a scowl that told me that for once, he didn’t want me anywhere near him.

  * * *

  0 7

  * * *

  “Oooh, I can’t believe that detective,” I said as I moved my hand over Damon’s antlers, trying to figure out a way to remove them without ripping his head apart.

  We had made it b
ack to Damon’s apartment in record time, garnering several strange looks along the way. One tourist we’d passed by asked for a picture, thinking Damon was some sort of street performer. Damon had ripped the camera out of the man’s hand and thrown it at him. His temper seemed to be getting worse every day.

  “He’s as bad as the criminals he catches,” Damon said. “I think I’ll write to the Council on Magic and Human Affairs tonight. By morning, Detective Hudson will be gone.”

  I paused a half-second, biting my lower lip. “Do you really think they’ll call him back?”

  “Of course. Unjustified use of magic is completely prohibited. Especially on humans. He knows I’m not a wizard. Why wouldn’t they call him back?”

  “Well, it’s just that... I mean, you did sort of go after him first.” I gripped Damon’s right antler and yanked.

  “Ow!” Damon yelled.

  “Sorry.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to think. I’d read a spell somewhere that had to do with antler removal. I just couldn’t remember how it went. I was too worked up over everything that had happened. When I opened my eyes again, Damon was staring at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You don’t think Detective Hudson was justified in doing this to me? Do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Damon nodded, satisfied.

  “I mean, you shouldn’t have tried to hit him, though.”

  Damon’s face turned three shades of red. He stood up.

  “You’re blaming me for this?” he snapped.

  “No. I just meant that you were acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

  “I’m not jealous.”

  “Good. You have no reason to be. Detective Hudson is only hanging around me because he has to. It’s his job.”

  “It’s his job to drink coffee with you?”

  “He was just trying to be nice.”

  I felt my brow scrunch and turned my head so Damon wouldn’t see my face. Why was I defending Detective Hudson? He’d been irritating me all afternoon. I didn’t like him any more than Damon did. Still... Damon’s attitude toward him felt personal, somehow. Like it was really me he was angry at. Like he was blaming all witches for the things that went wrong in his life instead of accepting responsibility for anything.