by Nancy Warren
I laughed and promised to give my full attention to the cheese appetizer coming our way. I scanned the menu and decided to splurge on a steak. “Medium-rare, please,” I said to Eve, who’d come over to take our order. She smiled at me and nodded.
“Where’s Gaurav?” I asked.
Florence shook her head at me like I was being spectacularly dense. “Take a look over there.” She swiveled in her seat and pointed to the pub’s coziest corner, where Gaurav was sitting with Katie, the bridesmaid he’d met last weekend. They were sitting so close, their knees were touching, and Gaurav looked attentive as Katie talked. Watching them, I was filled with a warm feeling.
I turned back to Florence. “How lovely.”
“I’m glad someone is finding romance,” Florence said. “I shan’t feel sorry for myself, dateless, on a Saturday night.”
“You’re not on a date; that’s true,” Hamish said, “but you did win today’s competition hands down. So no complaining. Anyway, if you want a date, no doubt Darius is about. Or the new security man will be only too happy to show you a good time.”
At that, Florence actually blushed. Hamish was right. She was never short of admirers. I accepted a glass of white wine and took a sip.
“Are you jealous, Pops?” It was Gerry, back again and floating now between Hamish and Florence, making a heart shape with his fingers and thumbs. Had he not exhausted himself with his little shotgun trick earlier? “I always thought you and Gaurav would make a cute couple.”
I nearly choked on my wine. I liked Gaurav a lot but not in a romantic sense. And why was everyone so interested in my love life? After my experience with the cupid statue last week and bearing witness to a ruined wedding, a boyfriend was the last thing on my mind. I was determined to be a regular contestant on the show—no more going off on my own expeditions and certainly not chats with the dearly departed.
I cleared my throat and turned to Daniel, who seemed to be more quiet than usual. Daniel admitted that he was missing his kids, and he showed me some photographs on his phone, laughing at their array of silly poses.
As dinner arrived and we tucked into our meals, I thought how nice it was just having a normal Saturday night. No drama. Just interesting conversation, getting to know people better, and enjoying a delicious meal. I even felt like a dessert and joined Maggie in indulging in a sherry trifle.
By the time we’d finished stuffing ourselves, I was ready for an early night. I wondered where Gateau had got to—I wanted to snuggle up and read through my recipe for tomorrow one last time.
Eve brought us the bill, and as we settled up, I vowed to make sure I enjoyed more calm evenings like this in the future.
“I’m about ready to turn in,” I said on a yawn.
But before anyone answered me, the strangest sound came from outside.
“What on earth was that?” I asked, feeling the hairs rise on the back of my neck. “It sounded like a woman’s scream.”
Hamish laughed. “It’s just an owl. They make an awful racket.”
Maggie shook her head. “That wasn’t an owl. That was cats fighting.”
But a sinking feeling spread through my belly. “That didn’t sound like any animal I’ve heard.”
Crack. Crack. Crack.
I jumped out of my seat. “That was a gunshot. I heard it yesterday when the earl was out shooting.”
The color drained from Hamish’s face. “Why would the earl be shooting now? It’s getting dark. No point hunting in fading light.”
What if he’d returned for the hawk? I couldn’t let anything happen to that beautiful bird. I wished that I could explain why the bird meant so much to me, but for now, I’d have to appeal to Hamish’s own interests. “Is it possible the earl and his gamekeepers are out shooting owls? Owls probably hunt small grouse too, right?”
But Hamish shook his head. “Not only is it getting dark, it’s illegal to shoot an owl.”
Florence stood and put an arm around my shoulders. “I know we’ve had some dramatics over the last few weeks, but not every bump in the night is something bad. What you think is gunshots is probably a car backfiring. And what you think is a scream is just an owl’s hoot, like Hamish said. Trust him—he knows more about wildlife than any of us.”
But I wasn’t convinced. What if the earl had revenge in his heart and was taking another pop at the hawk? They hunted at night, didn’t they?
“I’m just going to put my mind at ease,” I said, “and make sure the earl isn’t getting away with murdering more wildlife.”
“Poppy, I say this as your friend. You should really stay out of things that don’t concern you. You don’t want the earl as an enemy. What if he finds out that you’ve been interfering and does something to get you voted off the show?” Florence’s eyes were wide with concern, and I could see she had my best interests at heart. But what could I say? Sorry, but I’m worried the earl is shooting at a hawk that might be connected to my birth dad?
Gerry appeared behind her and said, “Or he might shoot you. Then where would you be?”
Thanks, Gerry.
I shrugged. “I’m going for a post-dinner walk. Not even the earl could object to that. Besides, I need to visit a local farm for some more eggs.” I’d planned a visit before filming started tomorrow, but they didn’t need to know that.
“I thought you wanted an early night,” Hamish scolded. “I agree with Florence. You have to be careful with people like the earl.”
I promised them I’d keep my wits about me and said my good nights—including to Gerry, whose mischievous streak hadn’t been satisfied by his rifle trick and was now moving the salt shaker around on some poor couple’s table.
Outside, the evening had turned cooler and I shivered in my shirtdress. The sky had a pink glow as the sun set. The air had a crisp quality to it, and I stood for a moment, inhaling deep.
I stepped onto the path that led to the manor house. It didn’t seem like anyone was around. Was Florence right? Had a car just backfired in the parking lot and I was jumping to conclusions? Under my breath, I cursed the earl for distracting me from my good intentions of an early night. The minute I decided to focus on baking, the earl was distracting me. Again.
But was it really all the earl’s fault? I knew I could be stubborn when I got a whiff of something strange, but there was also this feeling inside of me, like something was beckoning me, drawing me to investigate. I was following a sound, but it was more than that. Something intrinsic to my being. I was sure it was the hawk. Maybe it wasn’t my business, but I had to investigate.
I headed towards the manor house, staying on full alert for any strange sounds, like shots. But there was a kind of gray silence to the evening, a flat line only broken by an occasional chirping bird I couldn’t identify. I tried to empty my mind of its swirling thoughts, quiet it the same way the day had quieted. But I couldn’t help returning to the image of my dad from the magic circle and his warning: Listen to me carefully: You must leave this place. There are those who would do you harm. Was the earl someone who was trying to do me harm? I shivered and then touched the amethyst necklace. I thought of all my sisters adding their power to help keep me safe. I was protected. I didn’t need to be afraid.
I looked to the sky, hoping to see the hawk soaring high above me, graceful and free from the earl’s bullets. I remembered what Susan had told me about hawks, how they’re associated with good luck, clarity, and rising above bad situations so you can see the big picture. What did the hawk see from its vantage point up there? He had the best access to the big picture—if only I could see things through his eyes.
I turned the corner, and there was the manor house. All was still, but then I saw a shadowy figure emerging from behind a hill. Was it Arthur or one of his men? I sped up, heading straight for the figure to give them a piece of my mind. But then a happy bark broke my stride. I stopped and squinted into the distance. It was Sly, and Susan was a few yards behind him.
I called out a hello a
nd jogged towards them.
Susan was dressed far more sensibly than I was, wearing a pair of brown jodhpurs and a cashmere sweater, her short hair brushed away from her face. She was smiling. “Poppy, how strange. I was just thinking about you. How did today go?”
I bent down to give Sly a few hearty strokes and explained that, in fact, I’d been on my way to see her for some more happy eggs after a mediocre day’s baking. I’d need to pull out the stops tomorrow. Sly rubbed against me, his tongue hanging out. It was hard to feel gloomy when he was around.
“I heard some strange noises at dinner, and I thought maybe the earl or one of his gamekeepers were out hunting something they shouldn’t be.”
The smile on Susan’s face dropped. “I do hope that’s not the case. And if they tried, let’s believe our protection spell spoiled their aim.”
“I’m not sure it worked quite the way we were expecting it to,” I said grimly. But before I could say anything more, another loud craaaaaack crack crack echoed through the air. Sly barked wildly, and Susan’s brows shot up in alarm.
“Definitely gunshots, right?” I asked. I wasn’t country-bred, but it sounded like gunfire to me.
She nodded and seemed to be listening to the air. “I’ve got a feeling that’s coming from near the gamekeeper’s cottage.”
“We have to investigate,” I said. “What if it’s the earl and he’s after the hawk again?” I cared about all the wild birds, but I really had a strong feeling about that hawk.
Susan nodded. “Come, I’ll lead the way. I know a shortcut. But stay alert. We don’t want to walk into the line of fire.”
I gulped. No thanks. Eyes and ears would stay on high alert. And I was thankful to have Sly by my side. He’d helped keep me from danger in the past. Sure enough, he began acting like a herder, running just ahead of Susan and then behind me and back again, keeping his small flock safe.
Susan picked up the pace, a determined look on her face. “I swear, if Robert has harmed that hawk…”
“Robert?” I asked.
“Lord Frome.”
“I forget he has a first name,” I confessed, “and that you’re on a first-name basis.”
“Robert helped me and my late husband when we most needed help, and for that, I’ll always be thankful. He’s been good to me, too, since I’ve been widowed, but it doesn’t mean I agree with everything he does. Not by a long shot.” She mimicked cocking a rifle.
I matched her long gait, and Sly stayed close. Fury bubbled inside of me, and I was prepared to launch an angry tirade at whoever was out hunting and flagrantly flouting the rules. Susan made a sharp turn onto another footpath and led us away from the forest and towards the cottage I’d discovered by accident yesterday. We walked quickly and in silence. The light was going here amongst the trees so I was careful to stay close and try to make out the path ahead.
I heard rustling in the undergrowth and thought of all the life here on this property. It wasn’t right that the earl and his sleazy sidekick should think they could kill anything they wanted to.
“We’ll stop him,” I blurted out.
She turned and flashed me a wary smile. “I just hope we’re not too late.”
Before long, the cottage came into view, its pale cream stone glowing in the fading light. There were the little windows framed in black with lead piping crisscrossing the glass. All the windows were shuttered. But whereas yesterday I’d coveted the cottage, admiring its original features and old-world charm, now there was something creepy about the place. I couldn’t put my finger on what had changed, but I felt a weird charge of energy race through me as if it was trying to push me away from the scene.
I swallowed hard.
“What is it?” Susan asked softly as I put a warning hand on her arm.
“Something’s not right. I can feel it.”
At that, Sly began barking wildly. Susan bent to calm him. “What is it, boy, what is it?” she murmured. He panted for a moment as if gathering his breath and then raced towards the cottage.
Susan and I followed cautiously, conscious of walking straight into the path of danger.
But as we got closer, Sly suddenly stopped near the left side of the cottage and began barking loudly again.
Cold dread took over my body, and I began to sweat. Something was very wrong here. And then the air that had felt so fresh and cleansing earlier turned putrid. I wrinkled my nose. “Can you smell that?” I asked Susan.
“Smell what?”
“Something sour, something rotten.”
She shook her head. “Come on,” Susan said. “We’ll look together.”
We headed towards Sly, and I saw a shape. Something glinted on the ground. I went closer, dread filling my belly. “Oh, no,” I cried when I made out that the shape was human, sprawled on the ground and not moving.
Susan gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth.
“Who…who is it?” she whispered.
Somehow, I found the strength to go closer. Sly hung back, looking as sorrowful as I’d ever seen. An object lay on the ground next to the body, and I shuddered when I realized it was a pair of binoculars. That’s what I’d seen glinting, the uncovered lenses, as though the owner had been looking through them when disaster struck.
I went closer and recognized Marlene, her long body prostrate. The padded vest she’d been wearing earlier was zipped up to the neck, her bucket hat lay beside her. I rushed to her side.
Had she been so busy bird-watching she’d tripped on a root? Maybe she’d hit her head on a rock and knocked herself out. “Marlene,” I called softly as I fell to my knees beside her. But even as I tried to believe she’d fallen and stunned herself, I knew on some level it wasn’t true. I could feel that her spirit was already gone. And that’s when I saw the wet darkness that had to be her life’s blood.
Even though I knew it was hopeless, I bent to check Marlene’s pulse. Her skin was still warm, her face slack. No pulse. No breath. She looked surprised, as though death had been a shock. Her fingers curled over the wound in her chest.
Susan raced over to my side. “Is she?”
I raised my head and realized that my eyes had filled with tears. “Yes. And by the looks of it, she’s been shot. Shot dead.”
Chapter 12
“Her name is Marlene,” I said to Susan, who was on the phone to the police. “Marlene Applebaum,” I added softly.
Susan repeated what I’d said into her mobile, trying to talk as calmly as she could. We were both spooked. Night had fallen. Twinkling stars appeared, but they made me feel like thousands of pairs of eyes were looking down on me, judging me. I tilted my face to look at the moon, a sliver smaller than it had been yesterday, and a cold feeling came over me. I’d asked the coven to help me protect the wildlife, and then Marlene and her wild bird society turned up the very next day, protesting. What if I’d dragged Marlene into my battle against the earl? Was it because of me she was dead?
“Poppy?” Susan said, her voice filled with urgency.
I realized she’d been asking me a question.
“The police are on their way, but are you sensing something? Earlier, when you said the air was putrid, I couldn’t smell anything, and I have a keen sense of smell. I wonder if a new power is emerging—a way to warn you about danger? Can you smell anything now?”
I shook my head. A new power? I hadn’t gotten to grips with the powers I had already. “No, there’s nothing in the air now. But I am worried. Someone just shot a woman dead, and we’re out here, alone.”
Susan nodded grimly. “We can’t leave her. Not until the police arrive.”
She stroked Sly, who was glued to her side. He knew that something terrible had happened.
Softly, she chanted,
Goddess of the night,
By the moon’s light
On this terrible night,
I call to thee to give us your might
To protect Poppy, Susan, and Sly
From the ground to the sky.
So I will, so mote it be.
So I will, so mote it be.
As she chanted the words, my heartbeat slowed and my breathing regulated. My mind began to clear. What had happened here was a tragedy. But I knew I had to stay calm if I was going to help get justice for Marlene.
Susan’s eyes flickered open. “The police asked if one of us could lead them to the spot, but I don’t want us to separate. Not even to walk down the hill. We’re stronger together. Is there someone we can call to help?”
I instantly thought of Hamish. He was a professional, after all, and always knew the best thing to do. But I’d left my phone charging in my room at the inn. I told Susan as much. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll go down to the inn and get him. You stay here with Sly for protection.”
I shook my head. “It’s too dangerous, Susan. What if the murderer is roaming the fields right now? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I’ve got my powers, and I’ll use magic if I have to,” she replied, setting her mouth in a firm line. “I’ll send Hamish to you and wait for the police.”
I took her hands in mine and felt that jolt of electricity again. “Please, please be careful. I couldn’t bear to lose a sister so soon after finding her.”
“You too, little sister. Blessed be.”
“Blessed be.”
I watched her take off with a heavy heart. Sly stood and looked torn when he realized we were separating. Susan gave him a final pat and told him to stay. He barked once as if reporting for duty. “You’re a good boy,” I said softly.
As Susan’s silhouette disappeared into the dark, I fought the urge to run after her. I couldn’t let another woman come to harm. It hadn’t been that long ago I’d heard the shots that presumably killed Marlene. Whoever had fired them must be close by. I turned and looked again at Marlene’s still body. Please, please don’t let this be my fault. It was then, alone by that cottage—the moon shining overhead, casting the hills in a shadowy shimmer—that the full force of my responsibilities really hit me.
