Magic, Mayhem and Murder

by January Bain

An idea came to me, as I remembered what I had read about beating a lie detector. If you believe, it will sound true. “Alison mentioned you were helping plan the wedding. She was upset that you were taking over, making plans she didn’t want.”

  She lowered the gun a couple of inches, perhaps hearing the truth of conviction in my tone. “Then why did the constable take her to the station? That makes no sense.”

  Think, Charm, think. Where was a good basic time machine when I really needed it? It didn’t need bells and whistles, just to be able to send us back a few precious minutes. “Something about a confession? I don’t know for certain. He took her out of here so fast, I really have no idea.”

  Her eyes narrowed. I kept my eye on the gun that now dangled from her hand. “Confession? Alison’s confessing? No, she can’t! I won’t let her. She’s getting married. To a Davidson!” An unholy light gleamed in her calculating eyes.

  “You should go to her,” I urged. “She needs you.”

  “You’d like that, eh? Let all of you off the hook.” She waggled the gun about alarmingly.

  “What’s going on?”

  Granny’s voice resounded from the top of the stairs. Mrs. Smith’s attention was taken away at that moment, her glance shifting to watch our grandmother coming into view. It was my chance, my only chance. I couldn’t risk having our beloved Granny come down the stairs to confront a killer. I lunged for the gun, striking at the woman’s arm with all my force.

  She screamed in rage as the weapon flew out of her hand and struck the floor, followed by a loud sound that instantly deafened me. Oh. My. Goddess. My throat tightened and a cold sweat broke out all over my body. Loaded, the weapon had fired a shot.

  I have to save my family.

  I dived for the gun, wanting to grab if before the killer could. She reached it first and we locked together in a life or death struggle. My foot connected with her shin, making her use a stream of profanity that sickened me. Striking out at her, touching her—it was almost more than I could bear. Nauseous and wanting to upchuck, I gritted my teeth and suffered it all. Better me than anyone else.

  She was so strong for a woman well past middle age, easily my match in the deadly battle, overpowering me, laying me out flat on the floor, and the triumphant look on her face glittered, a horrifying sight to behold. That is, until the back door burst open under the pressure of a wave of women, the surprise freezing her in place. It helped me to find an enormous storehouse of willpower I didn’t even know I possessed. I slid free and on top of her in one last mighty effort, visualizing Hercules in my mind’s eye, pinning to the floor the arm that held the gun and grabbing her other hand, shaking with the adrenaline.

  “Is everyone okay?” I gasped, shooting a quick look around. Everyone was still standing. Good sign, right? Granny came down the stairs slowly followed by her sister, their eyes wide with worry.

  “We’re all fine. The bullet hit the wall above the sink,” Tulip said, pointing in that direction, her voice tinged by fear. No kidding.

  I took a scarf offered from the extended hand of someone nearby, using my teeth and chin to tie it together in a loop, not wanting to take my hands off the killer until I unceremoniously secured the still-frozen Mrs. Smith’s hands behind her back, thrusting her into the corner near the back door, against the wall. All the fight went out of her then, making the job simpler. My breathing came heavily, my muscles aching, and I was beyond thankful it was over.

  “Call nine-one-one. We’ve got our murderer.”

  I looked up and realised the entire Northern Lights Coven stood in our kitchen, silent, shoulder to shoulder, their faces focused. I…couldn’t have done it without them. Not that I had any idea how we’d done it, and judging by their faces, neither did any of them. But—

  The door burst open again and there was our Mountie.

  “Stand aside. RCMP business.” He made his way up to me, looked at Mrs. Smith still squeezed into the corner and closely guarded by those standing nearest her, and then at the bullet hole over the sink. He tugged me into his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked, holding tighter than necessary. It was quite nice and I snuggled closer.

  “I’m fine. Just fine.”

  “That you are, Miss McCall.”

  “Aww, isn’t that just too sweet?” Mrs. Smith muttered, finding her voice.

  “Will you be all right while I book Mrs. Smith?”

  “Of course. Go about your business, Constable.”

  The sea of women parted for him and he reached down and tugged the culprit to her feet. “Mrs. Smith, you are under arrest for attempted murder. Anything you say will be held in evidence against you. If you want a lawyer, one will be appointed…”

  “Guess what?” Christine had pushed herself through to the front of the crowd and now stood by my side, looking excited.

  “What?” Unable to take much more, I prayed it was good news.

  “The strippers’ bus is fixed and they’re about to leave town.”

  “Really? Well, that’s one good thing, eh?” Maybe things would settle down. Please.

  “Let’s give them a proper send-off,” Christine called, to be heard over the din of those assembled. Instantly the coven cheered then streamed through the kitchen into the café and out the front door to line Main Street. I caught sight of Emma’s red hair, a bright beacon in the middle of the group, and breathed a sigh of relief. She’d be fine now. I’d see to it.

  “Hidey-ho, strippers, time to go!”

  “Hidey-ho, strippers, time to go!”

  I winced at the message and reluctantly took my place between Tulip and Star, to be part of the collective.

  Just another day in Snowy Lake.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The big Greyhound bus belched diesel fuel while lumbering down the street and scorching the air with sulfur fumes, but otherwise looking sea-worthy. Thank you, goddess. It steamed by the town’s women assembled for the impromptu send-off.

  Not taking the message well, two of the strippers mooned the crowd through the windows, garnering extra boos and hisses. I narrowed my eyes at the odd rotten egg or piece of fruit hitting the sides of the bus and sliding down to plop on the street, simulating what came out of a cow’s rear end when their tails were held high. Some people…and I didn’t mean the strippers.

  “So, can I join the Northern Lights Coven?” Christine implored, her face alight with the possibilities. She’d parked herself next to Star in the line-up.

  “Ah, sure, if you want. Tomorrow’s our bi-monthly meeting night anyway and it’s our turn to host. Come on by. We’d be pleased to have you,” I said, giving her a friendly smile. She had helped our town out and that meant a lot. She deserved membership as much as anyone.

  The bus gone, the women began to disband. It was getting late, the street lights coming on and casting their blue light onto the pavements. Everyone was beginning to look otherworldly in the glow as they slipped back to their homes to pick up the lives they’d abandoned to recent shenanigans. Would I see Ace again tonight? Most likely not. He had a murderess to book and hopefully get a full confession from. Good for the soul, Mrs. Smith. I sent the message into the universe, hoping she’d catch it. One of the streetlights flickered and I knew then that everything was going as planned.

  I put my arms around my sisters’ shoulders, hugging them close, while the three of us stared up at the stars. Baby Ling Ling strolled up and rubbed her fluffy body against my leg, inserting herself into the picture. I reached down and stroked her fur coat, enjoying its silkiness while she purred and chirped with pleasure.

  “I’ve rebooked Ling Ling’s Vétérinaire appointment,” Star mentioned casually.

  Instantly the three of us were left to our own devices, Ling Ling having removed herself to parts unknown until the current threat passed.

  “What? She’s bilingual now?” Star quirked an eyebrow, making me snort.

  “Apparently so,” I deadpanned, straightening and giving her a quick wink.

&nb
sp; “Think Mom will ever come back?” Tulip asked, taking me by complete surprise. I swallowed over the lump lodged in my throat at the memory which still haunted me in the dark hours before dawn, of being dropped off like we were just bags of trash. “Do you remember her, Charm? What she looked like? I can’t see her anymore…and it scares me.”

  “That’s okay. It’s been a long time, sis.” I tried to hide the sudden pain of a spear being thrust into my heart.

  “Who cares,” Star added, her voice strained and not in tune with her words.

  “We’ll deal with it if and when it happens. Together.” I took a deep breath, needing to change the subject. “Now, who do I blame for the cannabis cookie caper tonight?”

  “What are you talking about?” Tulip pretended to have no knowledge.

  “She already knows about it. She had one,” Star filled her in. “Don’t blame me, it was an accident. She’s fine. You’re fine, right, Charm?” She suddenly looked anxious, giving me a once-over.

  “I’m fine. We should look in on Granny, though.”

  “You do know she uses cannabis?”

  “What?” I stopped dead in my tracks.

  “Yes, for her arthritis. She didn’t want to tell you because of your objections, and you know, the history in the family.”

  “Well, I guess if Granny uses it…” My voice trailed off. The woman knew her stuff so I couldn’t very well object. She’d never steered us wrong before.

  “So, we can sell the cookies?” Tulip’s voice filled with exuberance.

  “I guess. Once it’s legal, okay? No more practicing until then. I don’t want any trouble. Understood?”

  “Great! We’ll make a killing. Oops.” Tulip covered her mouth in mock horror. “Oh look, dark fingers are stretching across the moon. Strangers are coming soon and bringing danger.” She shuddered.

  Tulip’s prediction chilled me to the bone, making me glance up and observe my ancient friend. The luminous moon spoke to me on such an elemental level. She’d been here before I came and would be here after I was long gone. “I hope it’s not too soon. I think I’ve had enough excitement for a while.”

  “You know, I heard something today at the Boots & Lace from Darcy and then Auntie T.J. confirmed it. There’s talk of our town being used for a movie titled Witches and Wolves. A historical paranormal drama. Isn’t that awesome?” Star’s tone was beyond thrilled. “Maybe I can act in it? They might need extras.”

  “Maybe,” I agreed, though I was taken aback by the odd title. I shivered. Not a fun mix in my opinion, wolves and witches.

  “You know, you’re not the only one who’s recently discovered something awesome about themselves. Here, look at this!” And with that Star moved a few feet away, raising her hands to the night sky. A slight humming sound began, a gentle breeze stirred and she grew taller. What the heck? Looking closer, I realized her feet had left the ground. She was levitating. At least six inches from the sidewalk. I gasped in shock.

  “How is that even possible?” I asked, not sure who I was talking to.

  She lowered herself back down, a wide smile lighting her face. “I can’t go very high yet, but I’m working on it. It feels like the energy comes from the earth and buoys me up—sort of like magnetic, but the opposite, repelling me upwards.”

  “How did you do that?” Tulip asked, her eyes round as saucers. “I want to do that.”

  “I don’t know. It just started happening. Cool, eh?”

  “I’ll say. But maybe you’d better not be doing that in front of others just yet. At least until we know what’s going on. Granny will know what to do.”

  “Okay,” Star agreed. “But maybe they can use it in the movie. Wouldn’t that be sweet?”

  “They’ll just think you’re using a harness or maybe copying David Blaine, the magician,” Tulip scoffed.

  “Maybe so, but it’s still really something. Can you do anything remotely like that?” The hurt was obvious in Star’s tone. I’d have thought she’d have grown a thicker skin by now, hanging around this town. Or maybe it was her songwriter’s soul that made her extra vulnerable.

  Tulip buttoned her lip at my scowl. Who knew, maybe it would be her turn next to discover a little something extra? As if cloud reading and dream interpretation weren’t enough. We were a quirky family, all right. The best one I could ever have imagined being part of, bar none.

  I opened the front door for my sisters and heard Ivana’s voice loud and clear and obviously highly annoyed. “Why Charm not invite Ivana to help send strippers running?” I groaned. Both Tulip and Star blessed me with looks of sympathy.

  My sisters were scooting into the café ahead of me when I heard my name being called. I turned to look. And there he was. Constable Ace Collins striding down the street right toward me. How could I have ever mixed up such a handsome, intelligent man with Bigfoot? He was so much more than just a pretty face and hot bod.

  “Hey, darlin’, thought I’d check on you. Make sure everything’s okay.” He tipped his hat with respect, making me smile. It was so like him. He needed to be in charge as much as me.

  “We’re fine. And the town should settle down now. The strippers have decamped, thank goodness.”

  “Good.” He nodded. “That’s a relief.”

  “How did you make out with Mrs. Smith?”

  “Full confession. She’s making my job easier. I do feel sorry for Alison and Fred, though. They’re both upset.”

  “Understandable. So…” For some reason I couldn’t think of something witty to add. I got a whiff of his outdoorsy fragrance underlaid with a musk and my heart filled with anticipation. Was he The One? Like Granny said I had to wait for, or lose my gift? Only time would tell. And we could wait. Neither of us was going anywhere soon. It would be years before he was rotated out of Snowy Lake for another posting.

  “Well, I should be going. You must be tired.”

  “I’m not that tired. Want some coffee? Something to eat?”

  “I still owe you a barbecue, Miss McCall.”

  “Anytime, Sheriff,” I teased. “I’m always around.”

  “I’m be countin’ on that,” he said, following me into the café.

  Want to see more from this author? Here’s a taster for you to enjoy!

  TETRAD Group: Racing Peril

  January Bain

  Excerpt

  Day One

  Jake Marshall squinted behind his dark sunglasses. What was that? Even with the world’s worst hangover, he’d caught the glint of light reflecting from a distant object. Discreetly pulling out his Steiner Ranger Xtreme binoculars from his jacket pocket, he brought them up to his face, focusing their ultra-high resolution on the roof of what looked like a strip mall a full city block away from the courthouse. He moved the optical device back and forth, checking all along the flat roofline and the squat structure of an air conditioner and vent, watching intently for another glimmer. It didn’t come, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his gut. And his gut never lied.

  I should have listened to it the day I met Racheal. Note to self, never override instinct again. He’d been flattered such a gorgeous woman had come on to him, acting as if she couldn’t live without a tumble in the hay. A man can’t be blamed for the direction his cock takes him in, right? But it had turned out to be a very bad decision. Worse, he’d known better. And no amount of drinking was going to stop the pain caused by her having ditched him while he was away doing his duty for his country. Coming home to surprise her and catching her in bed with some guy named Sean Shithead Kincaid—that had hurt like hell. And still did. And now here he was on leave from his military regiment in Canada, filling in for a friend on the steps of a LA courthouse.

  And this job. He shook his head at the stupidity of some people. Why would the guy expose himself to a press conference when slinking away into the night would better suit the situation? The asshole had gotten off on a technicality, after all. Nothing to be proud of unless it was the fact
that his rich father could afford the best lawyer in town. Gloating was not smart. Jake’s gut agreed.

  The job of guarding the asshole they were presently waiting to escort to his daddy’s hideaway had fallen to him when his school chum had come down with the worst case of flu Jake had ever witnessed. He’d stepped up. Had to and wanted to. As if he could have done otherwise, when Max had taken him in when he’d turned up on his doorstep a week ago, needing a change of scenery. And not today he was filling in for Max’s own private firm, Sterling Security, as payback for all the guy had done for him, and he didn’t intend to fuck it up. Jake’s hangover made no odds, not when Max Sterling deserved Jake’s A-game.

  Max’s change in direction had gone smoothly—hell, maybe he should start thinking seriously about leaving the army now. Three tours had taken it out of him. And that sent him, just like that, back to Afghanistan, back to the worst horror of his life, back to the reason for his PTSD.

  * * * *

  They’d landed outside the wire enclosing the compound of Joint Task Force 2, the special operations branch of the Canadian military he’d been assigned to in Afghanistan, ready to dig in and do his part, tasked with toppling the Taliban regime. Operation Scorpion. Capable of doing exactly what it implied—to both sides. Just the how and the when were beyond his control.

  A remote shriek sounded as he walked toward the compound. It grew in intensity, an unstoppable freight train, hurling closer by the second. An aircraft flew directly overhead, its wake disturbing the air, then a second later, a dull thud came. The ground trembled. A small pall of smoke rose in the distance. The shriek faded.

  Then another shriek ripped the air. One he could pinpoint this time, coming from a northern ridge. The shriek grew to a wail, a harpy screaming in retribution. The ground shook uncontrollably and men began running.

  Lieutenant Gibson, a junior officer and squad leader, shouted, “Incoming! Get inside the wire! Run! Now!”

  His words threw ice water into Jake’s face. A single word connected with his brain. Run.