“Where’d she go?” Colleen asked. “Cookie?”
With a start, I realized suddenly that my cloak had made Cookie invisible, too. I quickly shoved her away.
“Mehh!”
“There!” one shouted.
Angela. I recognized the voice.
Cookie looked in her direction, then at me.
“Go!” I whispered.
She took off running, bounding with her adorable leaps across the meadow.
I curled into a ball again, but kept an opening for my eyes so I could see what was going on.
“Cookie!” Angela shouted, taking off after her.
“I’m starting to hate that goat,” Colleen Curtis, Angela’s college-age daughter, moaned as she passed by where I hid in the grass.
“Colleen!” Harmony admonished. Then added, “Okay, me, too.”
I lay on the ground until they were gone, then sat up. That had been a close call.
“Elder?” I called out in a loud whisper.
I was hoping she would come back, but after a few minutes of silence, I realized she too had gone.
I glanced up at the sky, at the twinkling stars, and thought about what she’d said.
Darcy, you already know who I am.
When I’d sought the Elder’s help about Melina’s diary, she didn’t give it to me. Instead her words of wisdom made me realize I had the power to safely hide the journal all along.
The power, because I was a Crafter—and I’d been trying to tackle the problem like a mortal.
Was I subconsciously doing it again? Thinking like a mortal?
Perhaps. I was going to have to look at all I did know about the Elder through the eyes of a witch.
In doing so, I had to keep in mind that things were not always as they appeared.
And how that, in the Enchanted Village, impossible things were entirely possible.
People could vanish in a blink. Animals could talk. Wishes could come true.
Because this place was magical.
My heart full, I looked at weeping tree once again and smiled.
I knew I’d figure out the Elder’s identity soon . . .
Because I was magical.
Chapter Fourteen
I’d slept fitfully and slipped on my running shoes just after sunrise. Sunday mornings were often the most peaceful in the village, and as I jogged around the green, it seemed that the trees were yawning in the breeze, waking up as well.
The flowers around the square—the ones that hadn’t been decimated by Cookie—sparkled with dew.
It was obvious Harmony and Angela had not caught up with the tiny goat, and that she had been very busy during the night. It was easy to see where she’d visited, as there was a trail of chewed vegetation left behind. She’d even hit the roses and daisies in front of As You Wish, eating every bloom within her reach.
Normally, on such a beautiful morning I’d jog along the Enchanted Trail, a pathway that looped around the village and darted in and out of the Enchanted Woods. However, there were some isolated stretches along that route I wanted to avoid until I knew why Baz Lucas had followed me to the Elder’s meadow the night before.
At six in the morning all the shops along the green were closed up tight, and villagers were scarce. I’d come across more than a few unfamiliar faces out walking their dogs, and I assumed they were Extravaganza exiles waiting for the okay to gather their belongings from the Wisp.
With any luck that news would come today. People had to get back to their homes, their lives, their jobs. In the wake of another possible delay, I feared any compassion and humanity for what had happened to Natasha would go out the window and hostilities would rise.
The windows in the apartment above the bookshop were still dark, and I hoped Harper had slept better than I had, though I doubted it. When I returned last night to As You Wish after my trip to see the Elder, Harper had become obsessed with the idea that we knew the Elder’s identity already. She had started a list of every female witch we knew right then and there.
The scent of vanilla hung heavily in the air, and I glanced over at the Gingerbread Shack. A dim light glowed from the back of the shop, and I easily imagined Evan working his magic on his miniature confections.
I debated whether to pop in to say hi, but decided against it. The whole point of this early run was to get out here to clear my thoughts. I’d tossed and turned thinking about Natasha, Chip, and the Elder.
My ponytail thumped against my shoulders as I jogged. The stripe hadn’t changed at all overnight, and when I’d taken another picture of myself to see if the spell had worn off, I only added more silver to my hair. The spell was still very much in effect.
“Darcy! Grab him!”
A shout startled me out of my reverie, and as I turned toward the sound of the voice, I let out a shriek. A big bundle of golden fur barreled toward me at what seemed like warp speed.
Clarence.
There was absolutely no need for me to grab him, because once he’d spotted me, he altered his course for a direct collision. With his gangly long legs, he leaped at me, and I caught him but tumbled backward, landing on the soft grass. He commenced to lick my face, and I couldn’t help laughing at his exuberance.
Glinda finally caught up to us and clipped a leash onto his collar.
He kept slurping, bathing my ear, and I laughed so hard that I could barely breathe.
By the time Glinda pulled him away and got him to sit, she was laughing, too.
“Sorry about that,” she said, offering me a hand up.
Glancing at her hand, I wondered if she was planning to yank it away from me at the last minute, à la Lucy and Charlie and that football in the Peanuts cartoon.
Taking a deep breath, I decided that trust had to start somewhere.
Internally bracing myself, I slipped my hand in hers, and she pulled me up.
If she had any clue of the corner we’d just turned in our relationship, she didn’t show it.
“I opened the front door to get the Sunday paper, and Clarence was out like a shot,” she said, patting his head.
Her story explained her outfit. A short terry cloth robe and sneakers. Her blond hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she wore no makeup, which revealed pale blond lashes and dark circles beneath her eyes.
Another person who hadn’t slept well. “Sorry he jumped at you that way,” she added. “He starts obedience classes next week.”
Clarence’s bushy tail thumped the ground as if he was proud of his brief blast of freedom. He was just shy of a year old.
“It’s okay.” I noticed Clarence’s nails had left scratch marks on my arms. They stung a bit, but not too bad. “I’m used to it with Higgins. And heaven help me, I think I’m becoming desensitized to dog saliva, too,” I added, wiping my damp forearm on my shirt.
“Well, you’d have to adapt or go insane with all his drool. I’m surprised you don’t tie a bib on him.”
“Or on me.”
She smiled again, and it made her eyes sparkle.
We’d come a long, long way in our relationship.
“Did Ve tell you I ran into her last night?” she asked.
“She did, but we have a problem with the pen.”
Her eyebrows snapped downward, and the sparkle burst into flames. “What problem?”
“The pen is inside the Wisp, left behind in the evacuation. I don’t know when we’ll be able to get it, since the police have the place on lockdown.”
She tipped her head back and groaned. “Nick hasn’t given any hint of when the Wisp will reopen?”
“I haven’t had the chance to ask him.”
In fact, I hadn’t seen him at all except for those brief few minutes outside Chip Goldman’s apartment yesterday. He’d called last night to tell me that he was about to bring Ba
z in for questioning and asked if Mimi and Higgins could spend the night with me.
He’d been radio silent since.
“He’s been a little busy,” I added unnecessarily.
She tightened the sash on her robe. “I heard about Chip Goldman. Is he going to be okay?”
“Last I heard he was in a coma, but I know Cherise paid him a visit.”
We both knew what that meant. He’d be either dead soon or completely cured. If he was too far gone, nothing Cherise could do would bring him back. However, if he was still fighting, she was the perfect tag-team partner.
“Time will tell, I guess,” Glinda said.
“How much do you know about Baz?” I asked, reaching out to rub Clarence’s silky-soft ears.
“More than I want to know since I started working for Vivienne. Why?”
“Ivy hired me to prove Natasha’s death had nothing to do with the Extravaganza. If you take out Natasha’s ties to the event, she ran in a very small circle. We saw with our own eyes that she was close to Baz. Do you think he was capable of murder?”
Her right eyebrow went up. “You’re thinking he . . .”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
“Why?”
“Love gone wrong? Love can make you do crazy things,” I said, paraphrasing Ivy’s comments to me yesterday. “Revenge?”
Clarence sniffed my sneakers. “Revenge for what?”
“There’s a chance that Natasha might have been behind Baz getting food poisoning last year at the Extravaganza. If he found out . . .”
“There’s a chance? Or she did it?”
“Right now? Leaning toward she did it.”
“Whoa. Wait . . . was Marigold Coe’s accident the year before that truly an accident?”
Glinda was many things, but dumb wasn’t one of them. “Ivy said she heard Natasha was on the steps at the same time as Marigold’s fall.”
“Wow. That’s why Ivy hired you this year, isn’t it? To keep an eye on Natasha.”
“Lot of good it did her. Ivy, not Natasha,” I clarified. And before she could say something snarky about my job skills, I added, “Speaking with Marigold is on my to-do list. But until then, Baz seems a likelier suspect, considering his relationship with Natasha.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “But it seems a stretch, doesn’t it? That Baz would bide his time for eleven months, then woo Natasha just to kill her as payback for something that happened a year ago?”
“Well, when you put it that way . . .”
“Baz just isn’t that patient,” Glinda said. “Whoever killed Natasha had to have a long-term plan. Her death was calculated to the last detail. That’s not Baz. He can barely match his clothes.”
I recalled his outfits. It was true. “Then who? Vivienne? She is the scorned wife, after all.”
“Not Vivienne,” she said adamantly. “Don’t even waste your time looking at her.”
Which, of course, made me want to run a full background check as soon as I returned to As You Wish. “I’m not sure where that leaves me.”
“It leaves you right where Ivy doesn’t want you.”
“At the Extravaganza,” I supplied.
“Ivy’s going to pop a vein if her event is somehow involved.”
“Yeah,” I said, because it was true.
Glinda hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Look, I should get going before Liam wakes up and wonders where we are. You’ll let me know about the pen?”
“I’ll call.”
She eyed me as though debating whether to believe me. After a moment, she nodded.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with trust issues.
“Before I go, just one more thing,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“What happened to your hair?”
I groaned. “Spell gone wrong.”
She laughed. “Been there, done that.”
“Can I ask you something?” I asked.
“Sure, I guess.”
“Do you know who the Elder is?”
Her eyes flared in surprise, but she shook her head. “No. Do you?”
“Not yet. Do you know anything about the Eldership? How the Elder is chosen? That kind of thing?”
Wrinkling her nose, she appeared as though debating what to tell me. Finally she said, “Not much. One thing I know for certain is that the Elder can embody all the Crafts and can change from one to another at will. She’s Wishcrafter, Broomcrafter, Curecrafter, et cetera, at whim. She knows every Craft inside and out.”
I tried to recall if I knew that, as it sounded familiar. If I had learned it in the past year, it had crawled off to a dusty corner of my brain. “Do you think she lives among us? That we see and speak to her regularly and just don’t know her secret identity?”
“Why don’t you ask her? She likes you.”
“She won’t tell me.”
Glinda laughed. “Then that’s all you should need to know. See ya, Darcy. Come on, Clarence.”
Yes, it should have been all I needed to know, but it wasn’t. There was something deep inside me telling me not to let this go. That her identity was important to me on a level I didn’t quite understand. Whether I was acting on instincts or out of stupidity, I wasn’t sure, but I was going to keep questioning until I had answers.
I watched Clarence and Glinda walk away, then decided it was time to head home to get a jump start on the day. As I pivoted and jogged across the green, I noticed a shadowy figure of a man sitting on a bench, openly staring at me, and I wondered how long he’d been there without me noticing.
Some detective I was turning out to be.
I picked up my pace, headed his way.
As I neared, he smiled and said, “I thought Glinda would never leave.”
Chapter Fifteen
“How long have you been sitting here?” I asked.
“Just a couple of minutes.” Nick stood up and pulled me into his arms in one smooth move.
I pushed back. “Save yourself. I’m sweaty and covered in Clarence’s dog slobber.”
“You’re still you.”
When he gently tugged me close to his chest once again, I nestled my head in the curve of his neck above the collar of his work shirt. He was in his uniform, khakis and a Polo shirt. His gun was in a holster at his hip along with his badge.
He pressed a tender kiss to my temple. “And I’ve missed you.”
Even though it hadn’t even been a full day since I’d last seen him, it had been too long. I’d missed our lively banter over dinner, sharing the colorful vignettes that made up our everyday lives. Missed feeling his heart beat under my cheek as we snuggled together to watch a movie. Missed our good-night kiss.
Missed him. “Same here.”
I wrapped my arms around him and held on tight, enjoying the feel of his body next to mine. Enjoying simply being near him.
“Mimi doing okay?” he asked.
Noisy birdsong filled the air. Robins, blue jays, crows.
No mourning doves.
“She’s great. Last time I saw her, she and Higgins were sound asleep. I’m pretty sure both of them were drooling on the pillows.”
He laughed. “Thanks for keeping her.”
“You don’t have to thank me. She’s . . .” I struggled to find a word that adequately explained how I felt about her. Finally, I settled on “ . . . family.”
He caught my gaze and held it, and the loving look in his dark brown eyes nearly did me in.
“Did you get any sleep?” I asked, noting how bloodshot those eyes were.
“A few minutes at my desk.”
We started walking toward As You Wish. “Any word from the medical examiner about Natasha?”
“A preliminary test indicated she died from cyanide poisoning, but it’ll take two day
s to get results with full concentration levels. It’ll be weeks before the official report will be ready.”
Crossing the street, we were directly in front of my new place. I paused at the fence. “I imagine those concentrations had to be high to kill her so quickly.”
The bungalow was a disaster area. A once-enormous load of lumber that had taken up most of the driveway was now only knee-high as the two-story addition off the back of the house had been framed last week. I glanced up and smiled at the way the roof replacement had come out. It had once looked like faded patchwork, but it was now solidly covered with brand-spanking-new Shaker-style shingles. I almost danced a little jig at the thought of no more leaks.
I’d been lucky with my renovation. The construction company owned by Cherise Goodwin’s nephew, Hank Leduc, had a job that canceled at the last minute, so Hank and was able to start my reno right away. Commissions for structural plans had been fast-tracked and approved quickly by the county because Aunt Ve pulled a few strings for me.
It was as though the stars had aligned to make this renovation happen, or perhaps a little magic had been used.
Either way, I couldn’t be happier with how fast construction was moving along. At this rate, I’d be able to move in much sooner than the estimated four months.
“Yeah, it was potent stuff. Her coffee cup tested positive for cyanide as well.” Nick nodded to the house. “This place is really flying along.”
“If you can afford it, it’s handy to hire a magical construction company.” Hank was a Crosser: half Manicrafter, half Numbercrafter. His fees, for which he earned every penny, were astronomical, but thanks to that trust fund left to me by my mother, the expenses were covered. “Cuts way back on typical delays.”
“I’d say so.” Nick fought a yawn. “If this was a mortal job site, you’d still be in the planning phase.”
It was true. Sometimes being a witch had its benefits.
All right. Most of the time.
Except, perhaps, when one’s hair turned silver.
“You want to go inside?” Nick asked.
“Maybe later. The key’s at As You Wish.” The weekend construction crew would be arriving soon, and I made a mental note to have some pastries and coffee sent over, which made me refocus on my conversation with Nick.
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