by Elle Adams
“No problem,” she said. “Should be quiet tomorrow, I think.”
“I might not be out all day,” I added. “Depends if the coven leader kicks up a fuss and stops us investigating or not. She doesn’t seem to like me much. I guess it’s because I didn’t introduce myself right away. Are most witches in town part of the coven?”
“There’s only one official coven, so the witches who aren’t members are independent, like you,” said Allie. “Carey and I, too. We have too much going on here at the inn to have time to go to coven meetings. Carey might change her mind when she’s older, but for now, she’s happy enough without them.”
I had to agree. Given my past experience with covens, they could be cliquey and insular, and Carey had to deal with enough of that kind of thing at the witch academy already. Her mother was concerned that her only real friends were her familiar and an ex-Reaper, but on the other hand, it sounded like her fellow witches at the academy were seriously mean. I was definitely not the person to offer advice on dealing with school bullies, but the adult members of the coven I’d met so far hadn’t exactly been friendly either.
Not belonging to a coven had never particularly bothered me, but if it turned out I had to play nice with the coven in order to help find out what happened to Harriet, I’d have to grit my teeth and do it. Preferably without accidentally bringing out my Reaper powers and cementing my outsider status even more than I already had.
Carey bounded over, goggles in hand. “Should we go and see the ghost?”
“Sure.” I smiled at Allie. “Thanks again for covering for me.”
We climbed the stairs and headed up to my room. Mart was nowhere to be seen at first, but he reappeared when we reached the first-floor corridor.
“Are you going to exorcise our unwanted guest?” he said. “It’s about time. I can’t even go in the room now. I’m stuck out here.”
“Come on, Mart.” I beckoned to him. “Stop being difficult. You can go into the room. Is she even speaking to you?”
“Does it matter?” he said. “I don’t understand why you can’t just kick her into the afterlife.”
“I can’t get my scythe out every time a ghost misbehaves,” I said. “If I had one, that is. Also, she hasn’t done anything which indicates she might have an above average level of power. She can’t even touch or interact with anything. Besides, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve had a ghost in my room who I didn’t want there.”
“That’s cold,” Mart informed me.
I rolled my eyes at him and unlocked the door to the room. The ghost sat on my bed, and when she saw us enter, she rose to her feet.
“Is she there?” Carey’s gaze followed mine to the bed. She’d adapted to my tendency to talk to invisible people better than anyone else, and she’d grown used to me having conversations with Mart by now. I was still impressed by how quickly she pinpointed the ghost’s location.
“Yeah.” I pointed at her, and the ghost flinched.
“I don’t want trouble,” she whispered.
“This is Carey,” I told her. “Her mum runs the inn, and she wants to offer you an alternative to staying in my room.”
Carey faced the spot where the ghost floated. “My mum and I own this place. We aren’t going to make you leave, but we can’t let you stay in a guest’s room without permission. That said, we have a few empty rooms, if you want to pick one.”
“I don’t want to be alone.” Her voice was small, and it struck me that she’d been younger than me when she’d died.
“Either she goes or I do,” said Mart.
“What about the room next door?” I suggested, ignoring my brother. “It’s unoccupied, and if you need my help, you can just come in here and ask for me.”
I didn’t particularly relish the idea of her floating through the wall in the middle of the night, but it wasn’t like Mart didn’t do that anyway. Whatever the ghost was frightened of might be a legitimate concern or not, but I needed a decent night’s sleep before I passed out on my feet.
“I’ll show you into the room,” added Carey. “Come with me.”
She led the way to the neighbouring room and unlocked the door. I walked that way and beckoned to the ghost. Mandy drifted out of the room, a sad expression on her face.
“My room’s right here.” I indicated the two doors, and she floated through the one leading to the neighbouring room. “If you need me, give me a shout.”
“I will,” she said. “Thank you.”
Sorted. The ghost had a new corner to haunt, I had my room back, and Mart would have no more reasons to complain.
Famous last words, Maura.
5
While I slept through the night without any ghostly arguments jolting me awake, I woke to the sound of running water. I was too tired to puzzle that one out, so I dozed off for another few minutes. Then I picked up my phone and found a text from Drew asking me to meet him in half an hour. I leapt out of bed and ran around the room pulling on my clothes, then I tugged a comb through my hair. Mart flew into the bathroom as I was brushing my teeth.
“Your ghost friend is causing trouble again,” he said in accusing tones.
I rinsed my mouth out. “Huh?”
The sound of running water continued after I turned the tap off. Now I listened more carefully, it was definitely the sound of a shower. Not mine, but the one in the room next door.
Uh-oh. The ghost seemed to have learned how to turn the shower on. Unless Mart had been giving her lessons. I swore, then I ran from the bathroom and grabbed my shoes before slamming into the corridor. Bracing myself, I opened the next room’s door to find water seeping underneath the bathroom door and no sign of the ghost.
Suppressing a groan, I trod through the room and pushed open the bathroom door. The ghost had disappeared and left the shower running, and a growing stain covered the carpet in the main room.
I waved my wand and cleaned up the mess in an instant. “Where’s the ghost? Mart, have you seen her?”
“No,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you sure you didn’t scare her off?”
He cleared his throat. “That, I can neither confirm nor deny.”
I sighed and returned to my own room while Mart flew around in the background, singing, “So long and thanks for all the fish.”
When I’d properly gathered my things together, I went down to the lobby. Carey looked at me from the desk when I hurried into view. “Something wrong, Maura?”
“The ghost flooded the bathroom in the room next door to mine,” I said. “Don’t worry, I cleaned it up.”
“I didn’t know she could do that,” she said.
“Nor did I,” I said. “She didn’t have that much power at her disposal at first, but maybe she was unaware of her own strength. Personally, I want to blame Mart. Either he taught her to do it, or he did it himself and let her take the blame so I’ll get rid of her.”
“Ah.” Her brow wrinkled. “Is she still in the room now?”
“No, but she’ll be back, no doubt,” I said. “Given how scared of everyone she seems to be. I’m meeting Drew in a few minutes, so I have to go, but I’ll be back to check on her later.”
I hurried into the restaurant to grab a piece of toast to eat on the go before the detective arrived and returned to the lobby as Allie took over the desk from her daughter.
“Maura, what’s wrong with the ghost?” she asked.
“Reading between the lines, Mart scared her off,” I said. “Pretty sure he turned on the shower and flooded the place, too. He won’t admit it, but I cleaned up the mess anyway.”
“Thanks, Maura,” she said. “Whereabouts is the ghost now?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “I’d look for her, but the detective will be here any minute now. I can tell him to go ahead without me—"
“No, you can’t miss out on time with the detective.” Her eyes twinkled. “I’m sure the ghost won’t do any lasting damage.”
I hope
not. It was a good job the water hadn’t leaked onto the floor below or caused any more damage to the carpet. Mart himself was conspicuously absent, so I busied myself with eating my toast while I waited for the detective to arrive.
I drank the last of my coffee, spotted the detective approaching the doors, and went out to meet him.
“Everything okay?” asked Drew.
“More or less,” I said. “My new ghostly friend learned how to turn on the shower overnight and keeps arguing with my brother, but at least she isn’t in my room anymore.”
“You still haven’t got rid of her yet?” he asked. “Who is she, anyway?”
“She calls herself Mandy, and she’s terrified of everything and thinks I can protect her.” I rolled my eyes. “Also, I blame my brother for teaching her the trick with the shower. He’s a menace.”
“I hope you’re still up for coming with me to talk to Maxwell again today,” he said.
“Sure thing.” I did my best to put the ghost out of mind, hoping that Allie would find a solution while I was gone. “I’ll resume the ghost-hunting when I come back to the inn.”
For now, it was time to pay a visit to Harriet’s werewolf ex-boyfriend and his new partner. I hoped he’d be more helpful than he’d been yesterday, though it was anyone’s guess as to whether either of them would admit to being haunted by his ex’s ghost.
The detective and I walked back to the same district we’d visited yesterday, stopping in a cul-de-sac near a park and heading down a row of terraced houses.
“This is still in the area where the witches live, right?” Werewolves tended to prefer to live closer to the woods, where they could freely shift between animal and human forms without causing a fuss.
“It is,” he confirmed.
“He already moved in with her?” I said. “Didn’t he and Harriet just break up like a week ago?”
“Werewolves don’t do things by halves, generally.”
No kidding. “Speaking from experience?”
Oops, I probably shouldn’t have said that aloud. Luckily, Maxwell chose that moment to answer the door. The tall blond werewolf greeted the detective with an expression which looked as though he expected to face a short walk to the gallows.
“Detective,” he said, his throat bobbing nervously. “Do come in.”
“We can do the interview here, if you like,” he said. “I just want to ask you a couple of questions about your whereabouts when Harriet died.”
“I was here, at home,” he said. “Lisa can back me up.”
“And did the two of you speak at all on the day of her death?” asked the detective.
“No,” he said. “Like I said, the last time we spoke to one another was when we bumped into each other at the apothecary the other day. We didn’t speak much. I think she was as embarrassed as I was.”
“Do you know why Harriet would have been on the bridge at the time of her death?” Drew queried.
“I guess she might have been on her way to the bar at the inn,” he said. “We used to go there together.”
Hmm. I’d need to check in with Allie and the other regulars if I wanted more detail on how often Harriet had been seen in the bar in the last week. “Would she have been walking on her own in the dark?”
“I don’t see why not,” he said. “The town’s generally pretty safe. Everyone knows one another, and I imagine she was probably planning to meet up with someone there.”
“Who were her particular friends, do you know?” I probably should have asked the wizards in the restaurant yesterday. “I mean, the people she would have met with?”
“Fran something or other… they used to be friends, anyway,” he added. “Not sure they still are. I mean, were, before she died.”
“Oh?” I said. “What do you mean?”
He chewed his lower lip. “Some coven drama. Not sure. I’m not in the coven—obviously—and I wasn’t involved in that part of her life.”
Sounds like a great foundation for your relationship. I’d be a hypocrite to say so aloud, though. Most of the relationships I’d had had been short-lived, after all, and full of too many secrets to work long-term.
“Not at all?” said Drew. “Is that why you left?”
“It wasn’t—I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he said. “Lisa and I just have more chemistry, and we’re made for each other. Know what I mean?”
I was starting to regret even starting this conversation. “Is she home now?”
“Yeah, she is.”
It would have been nice to know that earlier.
“Can we speak to her?” asked the detective.
“Sure, I’ll get her.” He retreated into the house and I heard him climbing the stairs and calling out Lisa’s name.
After a moment’s pause, Lisa descended the stairs. Tall and dark-haired, she bore more than a passing resemblance to the photos I’d seen of Harriet and was clearly a witch, too. I was starting to get the impression the werewolf had a type.
“Detective,” she said. “You wanted to speak to me?”
“I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions,” he said. “Whereabouts were you the night of Harriet Langley’s death, two days ago?”
“Here, at home,” she said promptly. “With Maxwell.”
“Did you know Harriet?” I asked.
“I didn’t know her personally, but she seemed nice enough,” said Lisa. “She was one of the few coven members who was nice to those of us who chose not to join and didn’t go out of her way to avoid us.”
“Really?” I said. “I heard she had some drama with someone else in the coven…”
“Who didn’t?” she said. “The coven thrives off drama.”
“They do,” added Maxwell. “Look at how they reacted during the conflict over the coven healer position. Who got it in the end, Cathy?”
“I wasn’t there, and neither were you,” she said. “It’s not nice to make assumptions.”
“I’m not,” he protested.
“Who’s Cathy?” asked Drew.
“She works at the hospital,” said Maxwell. “Same place Harriet worked. Have you found her ghost yet?”
“No.” I didn’t see or sense any ghosts in their house, either, but I couldn’t picture Maxwell or Lisa being involved in anything nefarious. Drew asked a couple more questions, and then our interview drew to a close.
The detective nodded. “All right, thanks for helping us out.”
We turned our backs on the house and walked away, out of the cul-de-sac and around a corner.
“So… the hospital,” Drew said. “Do you think it’s worth looking there for Harriet’s ghost?”
“Hospitals are the worst places for runaway spirits.” I shuddered. “I always get mobbed when I set foot in one. Not sure if her ghost would show up in a crowded place like that.”
“If that’s the case, we’re better off speaking to more witnesses,” he said. “I wonder what they meant by coven drama?”
“You think I know?” I frowned. “I guess Mina Devlin probably knows everything that goes on among her coven members, but I doubt she’ll be forthcoming.”
“Not to me,” he said. “Mina said she prefers people to go through her if they want to talk to the other witches who are members of the coven, though. They’re quite resistant to outsiders trying to get in, including other paranormals.”
My brows shot up. “Wait, you think she’s more likely to talk to me than to you, because I’m a witch?”
“Exactly,” he said. “If you get in her good graces, you might be able to talk to Harriet’s friends and see if their conflicts were serious enough to be worth further consideration.”
“I don’t know if they’d be willing to talk to me,” I said. “You might have gathered I’m not a people person.”
“It’s worth a shot,” he said. “The coven holds meetings two evenings a week. If you go there and talk to them, you might get information you wouldn’t hear through an interrogation.”
I shook my
head. “I’m not a coven member. I’m only half-witch, and I haven’t been to a coven meeting in years. I definitely haven’t paid attention to any of the current events that’ll be of interest to other witches in town.”
“That doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re new in town. Every newbie gets to attend a trial meeting while they’re taking their time to decide whether to join the local coven or not. I can’t think of a better way to get an impression of what might be going on with the other members.”
Unfortunately, neither did I. “When do they meet?”
“There’s a meeting tonight, in fact,” he said. “We could check in with Mina on the way back and see what she says.”
I caved. “All right, I’ll check it out, just as a one-off.”
I’d only be able to use the newbie excuse once, and given my past experiences in coven meetings, the odds of this going badly were higher than ideal. Witches were even more unwelcoming to outsiders than Reapers, in my experience. On the other hand, what better way to question everyone who knew Harriet without them suspecting I was trying to contact her ghost?
I just had to keep my Reaper skills under wraps for one night. That was all.
6
“You’re going to a coven meeting?” My brother cracked up laughing, rolling around in mid-air. “Have you been to a single one since you left home?”
“No.” In fact, I was pretty sure I hadn’t attended any coven meetings since before Mart’s untimely death. When I’d first started training as a Reaper, my mother had attempted to drag us both to regular meetings with the local witches in order to change our minds, but both of us were stubborn and had our hearts set on the Reaper path.
Mart had had it easier than I did. Witch coven leadership was typically matriarchal, while the wizards tended to take a back seat, mostly by choice. That meant I’d been the one to deal with all the comments about how I was letting my family down by not opting to help my mother run the village’s leading witch coven. It was perhaps odd that a career in Reaping had been more appealing to me, but in my experience, coven witches could be scheming and downright brutal compared to the Reapers, and older witches were just as petty and immature as the kids at the academy when they wanted to be.
