That Old Witch!: The Coffee Coven's Cozy Capers: Book 1

by M. Z. Andrews

  “Well, that was a bust!” said Loni.

  Gwyn’s heart fell. She had put all of her hopes into finding her here. “Do you have another darkroom?” asked Gwyn in a meek voice.

  Minnie shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I’m sorry.”

  Gwyn let out a heavy sigh. She didn’t know what to do now. Her mother was in a cage somewhere in some madman’s lair. Her hands trembled at the thought of her mother helpless, scared, and alone.

  “Okay. Well, she’s not here,” said Char. “Let’s not waste any more time dwelling on it. Let’s get back out there and figure this out.”

  “Char’s right. We need to go. Thank you for at least letting us look,” said Phyllis.

  Minnie smiled as she shut off the darkroom light and closed the door. “Not a problem at all.”

  She led the women back up the stairs. When they were all safely above ground, she shut the door behind them.

  Gwyn looked back at the young woman with a heavy heart and tear-filled eyes. “Thank you for believing us, Minnie. I know we probably sound crazy. I’m sure it’s probably not every day that you get witches making wild claims in your office.”

  Minnie’s hazel eyes smiled warmly. She put a hand on Gwyn’s arm. “It’s okay. It wasn’t a wild claim. And you certainly don’t sound crazy. I’ll let you girls in on a little secret,” she said and leaned towards them, lowering her voice. “I’m a witch too.”

  All eyes widened. Phyllis smiled at her. “I knew I sensed something witchy the minute I walked into the building.”

  Minnie nodded. “I don’t tell many people in the business world. Only because many people, especially men, think you’re trying to get ahead by bewitching them instead of earning your stripes.”

  Gwyn knew all too well what Minnie was talking about.

  Phyllis patted the woman’s arm. “Oh, Minnie. You poor thing. We’ve been around a lot longer than you, and I hate to tell you, it doesn’t get any better.”

  Minnie blanched as she began ushering the women out of the offices and towards the front of the building. “I just recently got promoted to editor-in-chief. One of the people I was up against for the job found out I’m a witch, and let’s just say…he didn’t take it very well. He was sure I’d bewitched my way into the position.”

  Suddenly, Phyllis, who had been leading the pack back towards the front door, came to a screeching halt in front of a desk. “Whose desk is this?!” she demanded.

  The woman looked down at the desk. “Oh. Uh, this is Benny Hamilton’s.”

  “What’s up, Phil? You got some type of ESP going on right now?” asked Char.

  Phyllis shook her head. She reached down and grabbed hold of a ratty old camera bag on top of the desk. She held up the strap. A big chunk of the handle had been torn off. “Girls. Look at this.”

  Gwyn sucked in her breath and grabbed part of the handle to inspect it closer. It was the same color and had the same bumpy texture as the piece they’d found in Kat’s garden. “Oh my gosh!”

  Char looked at Minnie curiously. “You said that Benny had problems with you getting the promotion because you’re a witch?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. He’s ranted about it ever since I got the job. He’s barely in the office anymore. He just stops in in the morning to get his mail and check his computer and then he’s out beating the streets trying to come up with things to show he can out-scoop me.”

  “He tries to out-scoop you?” asked Phyllis. “Has he done it?”

  Minnie nodded with wide eyes. “Yes! Several times, in fact. He reported on Margaret Sutton’s death almost immediately. So much so that we were able to print it in the paper the morning that her body was found.”

  “How did he know about it so early?” asked Char with narrowed eyes.

  Minnie shrugged. “I assumed he’d been listening to the police scanner, but I guess I didn’t ask him. He wouldn’t have told me anyway. He’s not my biggest fan.”

  “Have there been any other stories he seemed to know about before they happened?” asked Phyllis.

  Minnie’s eyes swiveled up towards the sky. “Hmm. Well. Now that you say it, he had some amazing pictures of that big storm we had about a month ago, and he was able to get a write-up about it before the paper went to press. That was a little surprising.”

  Gwyn’s jaw dropped. That was the night that Kat had died. Benny was there! And they had the torn strap on his camera bag to prove it!

  The women exchanged anxious glances. “Alright. We have to go now, Minnie. Thank you for all of your help.”

  Minnie looked at them curiously. “I wasn’t much help.”

  “You were more help than you know!” said Phyllis.

  “Toodeloo,” said Loni, waving her fingers at Minnie and Dennis as they exited the office.

  In the car, Gwyn had trouble breathing.

  Char rubbed her back. “Breathe, Gwynnie, breathe!”

  “I can’t,” she said forcibly while holding her chest.

  “You’re having an anxiety attack,” said Char. “I’m going to chant over you to help calm you down. Just be still.”

  Gwyn’s head bobbed up and down.

  Through fear and pain, she cannot breathe,

  Bring her peace, calm, and tranquility.

  Wrap her in your calm embrace,

  So her fears will displace.

  Char repeated her calming mantra several times over Gwyn until finally, Gwyn could breathe. Her heart stopped beating so fast, and her hands stopped trembling.

  “I’m feeling better,” she assured the girls.

  “Good,” said Char. “Because we need to find Benny now, and we all need to be at our best if we’re going to get Hazel back.”

  “What if she’s already gone?” asked Gwyn, panic filling her voice.

  “You’d know if she were gone,” Phyllis assured her. “She’s your mother.”

  “I agree,” said Loni. “Where do we start looking for Benny?”

  Char pulled Gwyn’s car away from the curb. “I bet that man has a developing studio in his house. That’s got to be where he’s got Hazel.”

  “Do you know where he lives?” asked Gwyn.

  Char shook her puffy white head. “Nope. But I know someone who does!”

  40

  “Let me get this straight. You think Benny did what?!” asked Sergeant Bradshaw from his chair.

  “We think he’s the one that took Hazel and killed Margaret Sutton. We even think he killed Katherine Lynde,” said Char, leaning against the booth at Habernackle’s.

  Sergeant Bradshaw’s eyebrows furrowed into a deep V. “I’m afraid you girls have overactive imaginations. Benny Hamilton couldn’t have killed anyone. He’s a good guy.”

  Phyllis grimaced. “Good guys can do bad things, you know. Are you going to tell us where he lives or not?”

  Sergeant Bradshaw stood up. The rest of the men in his coffee club had all gone on to start their day, leaving him to debate if he’d rather go golfing or maybe take the boat out and throw a line in the water at the lake. But now the ragtag group of women stood in front of him, sure as thunder that Benny Hamilton had kidnapped the ornery little lady that had punched him in the cojones the other day.

  “Well, I mean, I’m sure it’s public record. The man lives in his mother’s old house on Eighth and Eucalyptus.” He glanced over at Gwyn. She nibbled at her fingernails with a pensive look on her face. Poor woman, he thought. “But I’m sure you’ll find that he doesn’t have your mother, Gwyn. I wish that you’d let me help you look for her.”

  Gwyn gave him a strained, tight smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes the way the rest of her smiles usually did. He could tell that her heart wasn’t in it.

  “Thank you, Sergeant, I appreciate it, but we’ll sort it out ourselves. We need to go now.” Her voice was clipped.

  He gave her a stiff tilt of his head. No Harrison today, his inner voice mused. She must really be worried.

  “Who’s Benny’s mother?” asked Char, li
fting a brow.

  “Doris Hamilton. She passed a number of years ago. I believe she was a teacher at the elementary school for many years.”

  Char nodded. “Oh, sure, I remember Mrs. Hamilton. She taught my grandson. I vaguely remember taking him trick-or-treating at her house on Eucalyptus. I think we can find it.” Char turned on her heel.

  He nodded. “Alright, well, when you’re ready to let me help you look, please holler.”

  The women were out the restaurant door before he could even give Gwyn a proper goodbye. He slumped back in his seat. Should I have offered to go with them to Benny’s? The feeling he’d gotten from Gwyn was that he’d angered her by not believing their wild accusations. Should he have at least pretended to be a little bit more concerned about Benny?

  He crooked his head to the side and rubbed the opposite side of his neck. Women!

  “What is it with men?” huffed Gwyn as they rode in the car towards Benny’s house. “Why don’t they ever believe women?”

  “Men are more logical thinkers,” explained Phyllis. “Whereas women are more intuitive thinkers.”

  Gwyn frowned and spun in her seat to look at Phyllis. “I’m a logical thinker.”

  “Well, of course you are,” said Phyllis. “But our brains process information differently. We didn’t give Sergeant Bradshaw any reason to believe our claims, so I don’t think you can hold it against him.”

  Gwyn crossed her arms and looked out the window. The fact that he hadn’t believed her frustrated her. “Can you drive any faster? It feels like we’re walking.”

  Char gave her a sideways glance. “I’m going as fast as I can. The speed limit is thirty-five!”

  Gwyn leaned over and pressed on Char’s knee. “I’ll pay for the speeding ticket! My mother’s life is in jeopardy!”

  “Hazel’s still got some magic left in her. She’ll handle business,” Loni assured her.

  “You saw her trying to fire her cane at Father Donovan. It jammed on her. She’s too rusty for magic.” Gwyn groaned. She gave an angry glance over her shoulder. “I don’t even want to hear anything else out of you, Hodges.”

  Loni put a hand to her chest and widened her eyes. “Out of me? What did I do?”

  “Are you kidding? You abandoned my mother last night!”

  “You’re still mad at me about that?!”

  “Of course I’m still mad at you about that! Did you think I was going to forget?”

  Loni frowned at Gwyn. “Well, no, but you found her! I wasn’t the one that lost her today, you know.”

  Gwyn swiveled around in her seat. “Oh, so you’re saying this is my fault?!”

  Loni shrugged. “If the tights fit.”

  “Loni!” breathed Char. She looked over at Gwyn. “You both need to settle down. I know you’re worried about Hazel, Gwyn, but picking fights will not find her any quicker.”

  Gwyn stared at Char in shock. “Uh! She basically said that it’s my fault that Mom’s gone. I watch that woman 24/7. Some nights I get up in the middle of the night three or four times just to make sure she’s still in her bed. Mom fights with me every step of the way about what she eats, what she does, sometimes even what she wears or who I let her hang out with. It’s literally like I’m parenting a teenager again!” cried Gwyn, her fingers combing through her fake strawberry-blond hair. “I’m stressed. I work full-time, and I have to keep watch over Mom at the same time, and to have Loni Hodges insinuate that I don’t watch my mother is frustrating!”

  The women in the car went silent.

  Finally, Loni reached a hand into the front seat and put it on Gwyn’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Gwyn. I didn’t mean to insinuate that. I don’t know what it’s like taking care of Hazel. I’m sure she’s a handful. I wasn’t a very good friend yesterday.” Loni looked down at her purple galoshes. “I know I have some issues. I’m going to work on them.”

  Phyllis nodded and put a hand on Gwyn’s other shoulder. “I’m going to help you out with Hazel, Gwynnie. You shouldn’t have to do it alone. I’m here for you.”

  Char squeezed Gwyn’s knee. “We’re all here for you, Gwynnie. You’re back with your family where you belong. We’ll all support each other. Through the good and the bad.”

  Gwyn wiped away the tears that fell down her cheeks and squeezed Char’s hand. “Thanks, girls,” she whispered. “I’m just so scared that something bad has happened to Mom. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.”

  “We know, sweetie. We know. But don’t worry. We’re going to get her back, and then we’re all going to help you keep an eye on her. We get it now. Hazel likes her freedom,” said Char. She looked up and pointed to a simple ranch-style house. “We’re here. That’s the one, the beige one. Where should I park?”

  Gwyn eyed the property and then pointed to the back. “It looks like there’s an alley. I don’t think we should come in through the front. We’ve gotta sneak up on him.”

  Phyllis nodded. “But he’ll see a car parked in his alley. Why don’t you park at the neighbor’s, and we’ll walk to the back?”

  “Maybe we should call the police,” Gwyn suggested nervously. Suddenly the idea of confronting a murderer scared the ever-loving shit out of her.

  Loni shook her head. “No way. You don’t want the cops messed up in this,” she said, her coarse voice completely serious. “Trust me. They’ll come in here guns blazing, sirens wailing, and ole Haze will be gone faster than a toupee in a hurricane.”

  “You think he’d kill her?” asked Gwyn, nibbling on the tips of her nails.

  “Absolutely.” Loni nodded. “We’re here. We’re witches. We got this.”

  Phyllis squeezed Gwyn’s shoulder. “Loni’s right. We can handle that little weasel Benny Hamilton.”

  Char pulled the car to a stop in the alleyway of the house next door to Benny’s. “Well. Now what?”

  “We’ll start by casing the perimeter,” said Loni, lifting an eyebrow her head swiveled on her neck like a deer in the woods.

  “Casing the perimeter? Did you work for CSI in another life, Lon?” asked Phyllis.

  “I might not get out much, but I do have a television,” said Loni with a smile. “Let’s go.”

  The women got out of the car and approached Benny’s house. It was quiet, with the exception of a dog barking in the distance. Gwyn peered down at the egress basement windows. “The windows are covered with something from the inside,” she hissed to the girls.

  “That’s probably where he’s got his darkroom,” whispered Phyllis. “We need to get down there. It’s gotta be where he’s keeping Haze.”

  When they’d walked around the entire house and seen no signs of movement, Loni climbed the two concrete steps to the back door. “Try the door,” whispered Char to Loni.

  Loni turned the handle. “It’s locked.”

  “Shoot,” sighed Char.

  Gwyn looked around and without a pause scooped up a small stick off the ground. She handed it to Loni. “Hold this.”

  Loni smiled excitedly and held it in her hands out in front of her. She knew what was coming. Gwyn wiggled her fingers at the stick and concentrated on the object she had in her mind. The stick bounced off Loni’s hands and quickly evolved into a wooden key.

  “Nice one, Prescott,” said Phyllis.

  Loni put the key into the door handle, and it clicked in the lock. “It worked!” she hissed excitedly. “Come on.” Slowly she pushed the door open, squatting low as she entered the house.

  They found themselves in the kitchen. Char pointed towards a door, which they all assumed to be the door to the basement. The girls ducked walked past the kitchen table and were almost to the basement door when the doorbell rang.

  “What the?!” hissed Char.

  “Of all times!” Phyllis whispered back.

  Suddenly, footsteps ascended the basement stairs. They scurried to hide behind the kitchen table and all held their breath, hoping they wouldn’t be seen.

  Gwyn pinched her eyes shut as the
basement door popped open. When she didn’t hear anything for a second, she opened one eye to see Benny Hamilton wearing a black robe and rubber gloves. Working quickly to shed the robe and gloves, he didn’t even seem to notice the four witches hiding behind his kitchen table. Benny grumbled as he went to the door.

  “Now’s our chance,” whispered Char. “Get to the basement before he comes back!”

  Phyllis led the pack down the stairs. At the bottom, she opened the first closed door and found it to be completely dark. She flipped on the light. It was a darkroom! Just like in Phyllis’s vision! A long table sat in the middle of the room. On top of the table was the spellbook!

  “Our book!” breathed Phyllis.

  Char looked around. “But where’s Haze?”

  Gwyn’s heart pounded out a quick staccato in her chest. “Where’s Mom?”

  Her eyes surveyed the room. Photography equipment and boxes covered the small room, but something in a corner caught her eye. It looked like a bedsheet covering a box. Gwyn rushed towards it and yanked off the sheet. A frail body lay limp inside of a cage.

  “Mom!” she said with a gasp.

  41

  Gwyn squatted down in front of the small mesh dog cage to see Hazel curled up in a ball on her side inside of it. “Mom!” she hissed. “Wake up!”

  But Hazel didn’t move.

  Gwyn lifted her arm and shook it. Yet Hazel didn’t move. Gwyn let go of her hand, and it fell limply to the ground. “Girls, she’s not moving! What if she’s…”

  Loni squatted next to Gwyn and felt Hazel’s wrist. The room went silent for a moment as Loni fought to find a pulse. Finally, her face lit up. “She’s not dead. She’s either passed out or sleeping.”

  Gwyn’s pulse boomed loudly in her ears. “We’ve got to get her out of here before Benny comes back!”

  Loni unhooked the cage door and pulled it open wide. “How are we supposed to get her out of there? Pull her legs out?”

  Phyllis lifted one corner of the cage. “It’s light. I think we each take a corner and carry her out in the cage.”