The Witch Weekly: a paranormal cozy mystery (The Fairyvale Mysteries Book 2)

by Sofia Belle

  “Did you talk after you broke up this last time?”

  She shook her head, her eyes glassy, staring off into the distance at something I couldn’t see. “I sort of kept tabs on him through Facebook, you know how girls do, but that’s it. The next time I heard from him it was last night when I got a phone call from the police saying that he was dead.”

  “Why would the police call you if you weren’t dating?”

  She shrugged. “We used to be each other’s emergency contacts, and I suppose I still was listed somewhere. Plus, it’s no secret we dated, and it’s a small town. People around here knew. It wasn’t a secret we had issues, either. But it also wasn’t a secret that we loved each other despite it all.”

  My heart twisted in pain for Trisha. Taking a step back and looking at things from an eagle-eye point of view, their story was rather tragic. They had never quite managed to be together, and now the opportunity was gone.

  An inexplicable sense of sadness fell over me, and I thought back to Layla’s phone call. Maybe I should try harder to find love, be more open to it. Trisha had found it for a brief second, then before she knew it, it was gone.

  “I have one more question for you,” I said softly. “And this is private, purely personal.”

  She sniffed, then nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “My friend set me up on a blind date for tonight. They’ve been trying to get me to go out on more and more dates, but I’ve been avoiding it.”

  “You’re scared,” she said perceptively. “I can see it.”

  I looked down at my empty clipboard. “I suppose so.”

  “And you want my advice?”

  This time, I nodded. “Was it worth this pain to have loved Hank and then lost him?”

  It didn’t take her but a second to answer, and when she did, her eyes were crystal clear and her voice was firm. “Absolutely. I’d do it all over again if it meant I could fall in love with Hank one more time.”

  “Even if it meant you’d be hurting now?”

  “Especially then,” she said. “I’d just be better about my priorities. If I could get Hank back today, I’d tell him I didn’t care about material things. I’d throw my whole house away and let him work for free if it meant we could be together.”

  “Thank you.” I stood up, my throat clogged with emotion. If I didn’t leave soon, I might have to swipe a few tissues, as well. “I think I have enough to write a beautiful article about Hank.”

  “No,” she said. “Thank you. Hank deserves it.”

  Chapter 11

  Thank goodness I made a habit of keeping my work backed up on the cloud. Somehow, a solid thirty minutes had elapsed while I was inside of Trisha’s cluttered house. I’d meant to only drive by at first, and then once I’d pulled up outside, one thing led to another and it was too easy to not go inside. However, that caused a few issues with this pesky lingering deadline that I had on my plate.

  Sitting in the car, I finished a quick motivational post called #TackleTuesday. I was forced into coming up with a weekly post for every day of the week in hopes that readers would like the idea and check back daily for updates.

  It was a motivational series and included daily topics like #MotivationMonday, #WorkoutWednesday and #FinishStrongFriday. Cue eye roll. But people liked it. And whether it was a habit for the readers or not, they kept coming back, so Anderson kept forcing me to write them.

  With a flourish, I came up with some inspiring words, attached a hashtag, and sent it to my editor one minute before it was due. Exhaling a huge sigh of relief, I glanced up one last time at Trisha’s house. To my surprise, a figure was walking up the path. Apparently, I wasn’t Trisha’s only visitor this morning.

  Something about the man’s walk was familiar…

  With a start, I sat straight upwards. The Chief! I quickly scanned the area and noticed the telltale cop car parked one block on the other side of Trisha’s house.

  The Chief knocked on the door, his hands behind his back and his gaze fixated on his shoes. I held my breath as Trisha pulled the door open, but I was too far away to get a clear view of her face. Even when I leaned forward and scrunched my eyes until they were the size of raisins I couldn’t make out her expression.

  My debate lasted only one second about whether or not I should “linger” in the area, or head to my offices like I’d planned. Since I’d already beat my most pressing deadline, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hang around for a bit longer.

  Sliding out of my car, I took a roundabout way around the block, hiding behind bushes, trees, and fences. Thankfully, most of the houses on the block had plenty of privacy hedges, since the yards were so close together. It was a simple matter to duck behind one of those closest to Trisha’s house. Voices filtered out through an open window, neither of them speaking above a low murmur.

  I muttered to a little bunny staring at me from the corner of the yard. “Don’t judge me, rabbit. I’m just trying to help.”

  “—really sorry about all of this.”

  That was the Chief’s voice. I shifted a little closer to the open window and accidentally bumped against a potted plant on the ground. I froze, hoping against all hope that neither of them noticed. The Chief hesitated for a second, but he finally continued speaking without looking out the window. I let out my breath slowly, mentally cursing Trisha’s lawn ornaments.

  “Me too,” Trisha said. “I was just telling the woman from the Construction Times this morning—”

  “The Construction Times?” The Chief interrupted. “Is that a newspaper?”

  “Yes,” Trisha said. “A lady showed up with a few questions for me. You know, for the article about Hank’s death.”

  “I’ve never heard of the Construction Times,” the Chief said. “Can you tell me what this reporter looked like?”

  “Oh, she’s not a reporter. She’s really small. Pretty cute actually, wore jeans. I didn’t like her at first because it seemed like she was being nosy, but then she opened up at the end. I like her. Why, is there a problem?”

  “Cute and small. Sounds like somebody I know,” he said. “Don’t worry, I just… forgot about the Construction Times. Must be new.”

  “Must be.”

  “What did she open up about?”

  The back of my neck was positively on fire now. I was turning into molten lava right underneath this privacy hedge thanks to embarrassment. I should never have come here, even though I did learn some interesting information. My thoughts ground to a halt as Trisha spoke again, and my embarrassment turned into pure mortification.

  “The poor thing was asking me about love,” she said. “I know me and Hank didn’t have the perfect relationship, but what we had was real. This poor thing, I’m not sure if she’s ever been in love.”

  The Chief remained silent, and I wanted to turn into mud and ooze into the ground, disappearing forever into the depth of Fairyvale.

  “Anyway, what were you saying about Hank?” Trisha asked. “You said you had something to tell me about?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact that’s what brought me over here in the first place.” The Chief paused. “I’m wondering if you know anyone who might have had a grudge against your ex.”

  “A grudge? What sort of grudge? Hank was very well liked in the community.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard from multiple sources,” the Chief said. “Which makes the situation all the more confusing.”

  “What situation?”

  If nothing else, this distraction was helping to turn my mortification to curiosity. I leaned in, listening as hard as I could in my strange, pretzel-like contortion.

  The Chief sighed. “I hate to say it, but we’ve got some results that suggest Hank might not have died from natural causes.”

  “What other causes are there?” Trisha’s voice turned a few octaves higher. “What are you saying, Chief?”

  “Someone might have intentionally poisoned Hank.”

  “What?” Trisha choked out a sob. “Who would
do that? Hank? My Hank? He wouldn’t hurt a fly! He was so honest that he couldn’t even bear to overcharge on repairs. He could hardly charge a fair amount.”

  “Which is why this is all very confusing,” the Chief said, his voice gentle. I had to give it to him, he handled the situation well. Trisha was obviously torn up over the news, and the Chief was patient and kind.

  I listened, uncomfortable both due to my position on the ground and the fact that I was listening in on a conversation that should probably be left private, and debated the pros and cons of slinking away now. However, since any movement might draw eyeballs towards the window and outside, I decided to wait it out.

  Trisha cried for a few minutes, and I imagined the Chief might have patted her on the shoulder or something similar because soon enough, the sobs let up.

  “I can’t think of anything,” she said. “Like I told that lady, people loved Hank. He’d have worked for free and bothered nobody if he could’ve fed himself that way.”

  The Chief cleared his throat. “If he didn’t have any enemies, then can you think of anything he might’ve seen on accident, or any business deals that might have gone south?”

  “No,” she said eventually. “In fact, he was in between work right now. As far as I know, he had just wrapped up one job yesterday.”

  “Do you know if it was a plumbing job by chance?”

  “No,” she said again. “The plumbing job was ongoing. Well, I mean, he hadn’t completed it yet from what I heard, but that was a few weeks ago. And the only reason I kept up on Hank’s jobs was because I used to ask the guy at the gas station that Hank frequented how he was doing. We’d broken up, sure, but I still cared about him.”

  “And so you’d ask the attendant about Hank?”

  She nodded. “He didn’t have much to say, but that’s not surprising. Hank mostly talks about his jobs, since there’s not a lot else going on in his life. I was mostly curious if he had another girlfriend or not.”

  “Did he?” I could hear the wry note in the Chief’s voice, and I had an all-too-clear flash of last night when the Chief had discovered me on a date. A date with a dead guy. “Have a new girlfriend, that is?”

  “Not that I heard about. Like I said, the attendant just mentioned the jobs. I would’ve heard if he had a girlfriend, though. It’s a small town; people talk.”

  “I imagine they do,” the Chief trailed off. “So Hank had just finished one job, and he still had one job left open. He had no enemies, and no real family. I have to say, this is getting stranger and stranger.”

  “You can say that again,” Trisha said. “Of anyone in this town, I would’ve never guessed that Hank would get in trouble.”

  The conversation sounded like it was winding down, so I took the opportunity to slide out from my hiding spot while Trisha blew her nose loudly. However, I only made it a few feet before the next question froze me in my tracks.

  “I hate to ask you this, but it’s my job,” the Chief said. “Where were you last night?”

  I moved away from the house as Trisha hiccupped and spluttered. “What are you accusing me of?”

  “Please, I have to ask.”

  “I was home. Alone. You can ask my cat.”

  She has a cat? I hadn’t seen a cat. I’d seen every trinket under the sun except a cat.

  “My stuffed cat,” Trisha clarified. “Sorry, it was a joke. A bad one. I read a book and went to bed at ten o’clock. okay?”

  “Which book?”

  Trisha nearly shouted. “A romance, it’s still on my nightstand. I can give you the name, but I’m not sure it’d make a difference. Come upstairs and look, if you like. Unless you read Nora Roberts, you wouldn’t know it anyway. Are we done now?”

  “I’m sorry, it’s my job.”

  “Well, I think we’re done here.”

  Uh, oh. I froze, halfway in and halfway out of the yard. When I heard footsteps walking away from me, I dove behind a wheelbarrow.

  Footsteps resumed, and I didn’t trust myself to breathe until I heard the front door open and shut. I remained in a crouch for a few more moments, waiting to see what sort of move Trisha would make.

  Just when I was ready to slink away from behind the wheelbarrow, I heard a noise. I paused, my muscles tensed, my ears on high alerts.

  The soft sound of crying filtered out across the lawn, long after the Chief had gone.

  My heart broke for Trisha, and before I could stop myself, I pushed off from behind the wheelbarrow and jogged to my car, not caring who saw me.

  Luckily, I made it to my car—unseen by either Trisha or the Chief, as far as I could tell. I took a moment to catch my breath and let my heart rate steady. All at once, I realized I needed to get away from Trisha’s because likely, the Chief was on the hunt for me.

  The Chief would be wondering why I’d been poking around and asking questions for the Construction Times. Instead of going to the office like I’d initially planned, I pointed my car in a new direction. He’d probably go there first and ask around, and I had no desire to be there when he arrived.

  Time for me to get more information about this mystery date tonight, and the only place to do that, was a little shop Layla called the Witches Britches.

  Chapter 12

  “Stop poking me there,” I said. “Cripes, I’m not a Barbie.”

  “Yeah, you’d need bigger boobs, wider hips, and about eight more inches of height,” Layla mumbled through a mouthful of pins. “But you wouldn’t be allowed to gain an ounce of weight even with all those adjustments. Crazy, huh? Barbie is so not realistic.”

  “What is this?” I asked, stepping out of the dressing room and looking in the mirror. “I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t like anything I put on you.” Layla let out a very, very dramatic sigh. “I am the best at my job. Which means the problem is in your head, not mine.”

  I wiped my sweaty palms against my legs, but instead of fabric over my thighs like there’d normally be, there was nothing but skin. Even though the Witches Britches didn’t open for another hour technically, I glanced around behind me, making sure no other humans were around. If someone saw me dressed like this, I might die.

  Layla had dressed me in some sort of getup that might work for Dominatrix Barbie. It started with my feet, which she’d shoved into thigh high boots, and continued to my pelvis region where, instead of my usual, functional bikini-style undies, she’d strapped me into some sort of contraption that looked like a mix between a leather bathing suit bottom and a bungee cord. Straps attached from my waist to the tops of my boots, which to me, seemed to defeat the purpose of underwear. I mean, if I couldn’t get in or out of it to use the restroom facilities, what was the point?

  Layla walked up and smiled, clapping her hands, the sound reverberating through the store.

  “Nope.” I whirled to face her. “Why do you think this looks good? It’s horrible! And uncomfortable!”

  “That’s exactly the point.”

  I shook my head, again surveying the shop that Layla called her second home. This store was a hundred percent Layla, through and through. Pink walls with a black, mysterious trim along the top gave off an interesting vibe; fun, but somehow strangely provocative.

  “Why am I here?” I moaned. Taking a few steps out of the dressing room, I collapsed onto one of several plush couches in the waiting area. The one I landed on was black leather and very cushy—so cushy that I sank three feet into it. “Besides hiding from the Chief, that is.”

  “You’re hiding from the Chief?” Layla held up a nightie in front of her body. I swear that woman owned this store for the sole reason of shopping for herself. “Why?”

  Placing my hands over my eyes, I rubbed my temples where yet another headache was threatening to appear. “It’s a long story.”

  “We’ve got all day.” Layla pushed a rack of clothes toward me so that it rolled, and it rolled, and it rolled, until it knocked into the side of the couch. “You don’t like the clothes I pick
ed? Try something else. I’ve got everything, you name it. It’s easier to name what I don’t have.”

  “You said you had more information for me about tonight.”

  “I do,” Layla said slowly. “Fill me in on your case, and then I’ll give you my information. That’s fair.”

  I blew out a big breath of air, then I filled my friend in on everything that’d happened so far that morning. I laid it all out, from the very first phone call to the construction company, to the heart to heart chat I’d had with Trisha, to the snooping I’d done while she and the Chief chatted.

  “That snooping is going to get you in trouble someday,” Layla said. “You’ve got to be careful because I haven’t decided if I’ll bail you out yet or not.”

  “What a pal.”

  “So, what are your thoughts?”

  I spun around at Layla’s twirling finger. “I don’t know, the whole situation is strange. Everyone seems like they love Hank. His clients, his friends—heck, even his ex-girlfriend couldn’t say anything bad about him.”

  “That’s tough.” Layla tsked softly. “What a shame about poor Hank.”

  I agreed. “It only makes me more determined to figure out who did it.”

  “Who are your options?”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t know.”

  “Could the ex have done it?”

  I considered Trisha. She was kooky, and she saved too many things, but that hardly gave me reason to suspect her of murder. Plus, her reactions seemed genuine, and since the police hadn’t arrested her yet, the Chief would probably agree with me.

  “She cried,” I said finally. “The Chief asked her where she was last night, and at first she got mad. Then, she explained that she was home alone reading a book. The Chief got the picture and left shortly after that. Even he didn’t have any follow up questions.”

  “Where does the crying come in?”

  “After the Chief left.” I shook my head, remembering those heart-wrenching sobs, the words she’d told me about love. I shifted my weight from one foot to another, and this time it had nothing to do with the uncomfortable lingerie into which Layla was compressing my limbs. “I didn’t leave, since I didn’t want to be seen. She cried, and cried, and cried, even when nobody was watching.”