by Silver Nord
“Hazel, you’ve got to admit, it doesn’t look good for your aunt. There was that note and she works in an apothecary. You can’t tell me she wouldn’t have known about that poison! Perhaps she used it on him, and when it took too long to work, she stabbed him for good measure.”
“Or perhaps his crazy wife killed him when she found out he’d taken his little affair beyond the scam they’d intended. Have you questioned her yet?”
“Yes, of course I have,” Sean said, trying to look more assertive. “She was very polite and helpful to the investigation.”
I waited, but apparently that was all there was to say about her. “Did she happen to mention where she was on the night of her husband’s death?”
“She said she was in Witchwood, and she has an alibi that’s corroborated by at least five of her friends.”
“I’m sure thats believable,” I said dryly, imagining that her friends all went to the same ‘gym’ she did.
I looked deep into Sean’s grey eyes and tried to appeal to his better sense of judgement. “Sean, I’m almost certain that this wife is probably the same person who tried to rob my shop. Why else would she know the information my aunt remembered she might have let slip to her fiancé?”
“There just isn’t any proof. I asked about the robbery and she had an alibi…”
“The same friends?”
Sean frowned. “No, different ones. They said they were on a sightseeing tour at the time, but with each other, not with the official tour group that’s been going around town.”
“What’s got into you?” I asked, trying to figure out what had happened to the efficient and logical man I’d come to admire over time. Now he seemed to be right back where he’d started, making pigheaded decisions that made no sense. I just didn’t understand why.
“Well, hi there Mr Detective!” a female voice called.
I turned around to see a beautiful blonde woman wearing six inch heels tottering along the road towards us.
With a sudden sense of understanding I looked back at the detective. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Who’s she? I thought we had something special, Sean,” the blonde said, trying to make a joke but coming across about as funny as a porcupine at a balloon festival.
“Hazel Salem, this is Amber Leroux. She’s visiting Wormwood at the moment and is assisting with the investigation into the murder of her husband,” Sean said stiffly.
“She could assist you with your investigation even more if she admitted she was the one who killed him,” I said deadpan, before I pretended to laugh and Amber joined in. Two could play at these games. I tried to get a good look at Amber’s blonde locks to see if there was a bald patch, but she’d used so much hairspray and backcombing, it was impossible to see anything.
Amber did some looking between us before she flipped her hair back and smiled again. “Anyhow, nice seeing you again, Sean! You’re doing a wonderful job, and I know you’ll catch the awful person responsible for all this. Didn’t you say you’re back to considering your first suspect?” She looked directly at me when she said it, and I just knew I saw recognition flash in her eyes… and something far darker that was perhaps the promise of revenge.
“Oh sure, because she doesn’t look like a criminal at all,” I said recognising the tattoos on her hands. She had surely been the one in my shop, and now here she was, acting like butter wouldn’t melt.
“You really are the funny one, aren’t you?” Amber said, pretending that I was joking again. Her steely smile said otherwise. “I’ve got to be going, hun. I want to get to the nice little bakery before they sell out of their sprinkle biscuits. They melt in your mouth like nothing else. At least some of the businesses in this strange little town are worth visiting.” She looked down her nose at me.
I was sorely tempted to tell her who was in charge of the nice little bakery she was on her way to visit, but I thought I’d surprise her when I turned up for the lunchtime shift… maybe showing my face after I’d poisoned the sprinkle biscuits.
I shook myself. At this rate, I’d morph into something as nasty as the woman I was eager to judge.
Sean looked after Amber as she waddled on down the street. He was so enthralled I had to punch his arm to get him to turn back, and when he did. I saw that he was blushing.
“Sean! She should be your prime suspect!” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Had this gang somehow worked some hoodoo on the detective? I looked but I couldn’t see any signs of spell-work or bewitchment.
“Stop looking at me like that. No one’s put a spell on me,” he said gruffly, before sighing. “I just don’t think she did it. She seems so devoted to her husband. She told me she knew about the affair he was having with Minerva, but she wasn’t angry. Their marriage was on the rocks anyway, and she was thinking of divorcing him. She’s a woman who values loyalty above all else. You know, she’s not even upset with Minerva.” He raised his dark eyebrows at me. “I wish I could say the same of your aunt. She seemed very resentful after being told of her fiancé’s lies.”
“Oh, come on!” I scoffed. “The reason she’s being so accepting is because she set the whole thing up! Stop being so… flattered.” I couldn’t help it, I felt outraged by the detective’s behaviour… not least because he’d never behaved this way around me. A plague of frogs had been enough for our chemistry to vanish the first time we’d met. I’d thought something had started up again between us, something far more real than just passing attraction, but it looked like Sean had other, blonder, plans.
“I’m doing my job by comforting a distraught widow. Being friendly is in the job description,” he said, brushing me off.
“Not that friendly!” I folded my arms and gave him my best disappointed look. “You’re missing the glaringly obvious. She’s a criminal, Sean, and I’m going to find out how she killed her husband. If you need a place to stay, let me know,” I added, before something truly terrible occurred to me.
“No, I’m not staying with her!” Sean retorted, apparently reading my mind. “I told you. I am handling this in a professional manner. She’s just a very friendly woman.”
“A friendly woman who’s getting away with murder.”
Sean’s expression clouded. “You have no more evidence than I do that she did what you’re claiming. Until we find something else, we’re at an impasse.”
We looked at each other for a long moment.
“Are we still in this together, or not?” he said after the uncomfortable time had passed.
“I hope we are,” I said, meaning it fervently. Now was not the time to break apart over petty differences, like murder.
“I’ll see you around then. Let me know if you find anything more… including evidence that Amber was involved in these attempted robberies and the vandalism. I need evidence, if I’m going to do anything. Otherwise, she has just as much right to claim she’s being framed as your aunt does,” Sean said, his voice and expression softening.
I nodded. That was fair. “Remember, if you do need a place to stay to wait all of this out, my door is always open. Unless you come in brandishing a gun and wearing a balaclava,” I couldn’t resist adding.
His mouth quirked up enough for me to call it a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” His grey eyes met mine again. “I‘ve always been a big believer that most of the answers to life’s problems can be found in the past. But monsters, mayors, and maniacal murders… I just don’t know anymore.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away down the street, heading in the opposite direction to where Amber had been going. At least I could take small comfort from that.
“The answers can be found in the past,” I repeated without really thinking too much about it as I walked past a junk shop with a large sign hanging out front with a ‘for sale’ sticker on it. It was the kind of kitsch wooden decoration that smug homemakers hung in their bedrooms. Someone had carved a heart into an aged wooden plank, and the words ‘I love you to the
moon and back’ were painted in gold leaf at its centre.
But it wasn’t the cheesy quote that made me stop in my tracks… it was the heart, carved into wood.
“I wear my heart outside my chest,” I muttered, repeating the words of the unbreakable riddle which had eluded me until now. Could it be? I wondered, as I considered the possibility that the heart meant a carved heart… perhaps on a tree. I stand alone in a sea of me. In a place of magic and a place of rest. The words rang in my mind. I considered them in this new light and realised I might be looking for a tree in the middle of a forest, standing alone in a clearing.
Strangely enough, I knew just where to find something like that.
“What are the chances?” I muttered, wondering if I could be right. Sean’s words came back to me again. Most of the answers to life’s problems can be found in the past. I couldn’t believe I was going back to the first mystery I’d ever solved in Wormwood.
The oak tree stood in splendid isolation.
I had walked through the oldest part of the forest where the paths beneath the trees lay dark. Every now and then, I’d hear twigs cracking and spin around, ready to fight… but if there was anything else lurking in this part of Wormwood Forest, it was biding its time.
I looked at the tree with its lightning scarred centre, feeling my heart beating in my chest as I searched for a sign - the symbol that would let me know whether I’d been chasing shadows or struck gold. When I finally found the heart, I felt my own jump in recognition. I hadn’t even noticed it the first time I’d come to this clearing what now felt like an age ago, but there it was, plain as day. If the riddle was to be believed, I’d discovered my father’s secret location.
“Or not,” I muttered, looking at the tree unconvinced. It was pretty big, but I didn’t envisage that anyone could be hiding inside, and I’d already done some poking around the last time I’d been here.
Knock three times, then six, then three. Only then will I speak to thee.
Feeling like a complete fool and glad that no one could see me, I reached out and tapped out the correct number of knocks on the old tree trunk.
Silence followed.
I was just about to accept that I really was jumping at shadows and leave the tree in peace when I heard an electronic sort of crackle.
“Hello? Who is it?” a voice spoke, sounding like a person answering a phone call.
“Hello?” I said in return, looking at the tree like it had sprouted eyes and a mouth. It didn’t appear to have done any of those things, but I couldn’t see any sign of a communication device.
“Who is it?” the male voice repeated.
“Hazel Salem,” I said, hesitating before I asked the next question. “Are you… my father?”
“I was wondering when you would come along,” the voice replied, sounding neither happy nor sad, but then, it was very hard to read disembodied voices - especially one I’d never heard before in my life.
“I have a lot of questions for you. First of all, where are you? Are you here?” I felt incredibly stupid asking, but I had to know. Minerva had claimed my father was a tech wizard. Perhaps he had a magical cloaking device he’d used to live out here for all these years without anyone noticing.
“No, of course not,” he said, dispelling my ridiculous notion. “This is just an emergency electronic communication device. I had to set it up out here because anywhere closer to Wormwood makes the technology a little buggy - especially when surveillance cameras are involved. It’s actually my fault that things are that way in town. A little anti-surveillance magical tech experiment went wrong, but I’m sure no one really minds.”
“Hmmm,” I said, privately thinking it was rather a big inconvenience in this modern age - unless you were obsessed with privacy and liked to read George Orwell.
“You know, I saw you here before when you came to find what Freya left behind for someone to find. She was quite the fire cracker, wasn’t she? I was saddened to hear of her passing. I wish I could have attended her funeral in person and given you some company, but I want you to know I was watching. It was just too dangerous for me to show myself.”
“Why too dangerous?” I’d heard Minerva’s vague explanation that revolved around regrettable inventions, but I wanted to hear the words come out of my father’s mouth.
I wanted to know why he’d missed my life.
“It’s complicated, my dear Hazel,” he said, echoing the words of a Salem I wasn’t too fond of. But somehow, when he said them I knew he meant it, and not condescendingly.
“I’d like to know. I think I need to know. Things are happening. People came looking for the thing you entrusted Minerva with,” I said, unable to be more specific. “Perhaps we could meet to talk about it?”
“I’d love to. I really would love to. There have been many, many times over the years when I’ve considered coming out of hiding. Your mother’s death was the hardest. I felt like you would be all alone in the world and in need of someone, which was why I was so glad when I heard whispers that Minerva and Linda had returned to Wormwood. Unfortunately, things are at a critical stage right now. From what you’ve said, it’s only getting worse. If they are looking for the weapon that I made, they will certainly be trying to find me, too. They’ll want to mass produce it, you see.”
“Who are these people?” I asked, still unsure of the enemy.
“They are many and varied. It’s never restricted to one organisation, just any who are greedy enough to want more of the world than their fair share.”
“Right,” I said, not feeling too appreciative of vague philosophy at the moment. “This time, it seems to be a gang of tattooed thugs who hail from Witchwood. Why would they know about your invention?”
“Stories crop up now and then and searchers go looking. It’s kind of like the Holy Grail quest.” The speaker sounded amused in a darkly humoured way.
“But this group seems close to getting what they want. They knew where to look. They even found my aunts when they were on the run from the Witch Council. I mean, if the Council couldn’t find them, but this group could…” I shook my head. “I just find it hard to believe that it’s a coincidence. Plus, they have a reputation for being muscle for hire.”
“Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t. They won’t get their hands on it. Minerva and I have seen to that. She has my full trust.”
“What kind of weapon is it? Wormwood is in trouble. If it’s something powerful, it might be able to help. A gate is going to open up to the dark dimension and monsters will come through and destroy the town. I just want to save everyone and everything I love and stop the evil mayor from taking over the world. I’ll do whatever it takes,” I said, hearing the desperation loud and clear in my voice.
“That is a truly admirable goal and it makes me very proud to be your father, if I can even say that to you. I know I don’t deserve it.” He sighed. “I’m afraid it’s still not a good idea for you to try and use what I invented. There’s always the risk it will fall into the wrong hands, and then where would the world be? In terms of what it does, that’s a challenging question. The blend of magic and technology makes it incredibly hard to pinpoint an exact definition. I suppose you might consider it a nuclear bomb in a bottle, except instead of radiation and explosive heat, it destroys particles on a molecular level. It’s kind of like a disintegrator, but I suspect it may even go beyond that and eat away at the fabric of reality. That’s why it’s so dangerous. I had to stop my testing early on when I realised what I’d created. There’s a chance my invention might actually bring about the very thing you are trying to stop. Maybe… maybe it could be used to help, but it’s too risky.” He sighed. “Even if I told you how to get it, my honourable daughter, using it requires some sharp-shooting skills. Oh, if only I could go back in time. There are so many things I’d change, so many things I would undo…”
“Like making a deal with a devil for a daughter?” I said, feeling like I was dropping a truth bomb on daytime TV.
“Even at such a high price?” I said, wanting to know what my father had been thinking when he’d signed on the dotted line. “In case you’re wondering, it wasn’t a blessing. It’s a curse. Now the only way I can change my fate and the fate of the town is by figuring out how to sacrifice myself to save everyone. Even that might not work.” I was not feeling too chipper at the moment. “So… it will all have been for nothing in the end.”
“I don’t believe that, Hazel. I know I haven’t been around and I’ve only caught glimpses of your life over the years, but you are a remarkable person. I’ve read all of your magazines! I especially liked the old ones where you were still laughing at people with delusions of magic. I guess I could empathise having been that way myself for most of my life.” He sounded like he was smiling. “But everything you’ve done with the magazine and your business… I know your mother would have been so proud.”
“Thanks,” I said, unable to think of anything better to say. I could feel a dagger of emotion twisting inside of me. “I was wrong to drag you into all of this. I’ll do my best to figure out something on my own.”
“I’m sorry, Hazel. I wish there was another way, but my enemies are more active than ever. I stopped them for a time, but now I hear they have risen and are stronger than ever before. Watch out, Hazel… it’s hard to know who to trust in times like these. Keep your friends close and your enemies where you can see them at all times. Do you know exactly how this mystery gang found your aunts in the first place?”
“They were on the run from the Witch Council,” I repeated. “I really have no idea about how easy it is to find witches when they don’t want to be found.”
