Witch You Wouldn't Believe (Lemon Tea Cozy Mysteries Book 1)

by Lucy May

  Harold grinned. It wasn’t exactly the response I had been looking for with my veiled threat. “Honey, if I had a dollar for every time someone threatened me with the lawyer line I wouldn’t need to wear this ugly uniform every day. You get yourself a lawyer. Make sure your mom had a good one, too, because if this turns out to be what I think it will, she is going to need a very good one to keep her out of prison.”

  He spun on his heel and walked out of the deli. I stared after him. I knew there was a possibility she would be on the hook for the crime, but hearing him actually say it was disturbing.

  I turned to Gabriel. “Do you think she’ll get charged with murder?”

  “I hope not. We need to find out what happened that night.”

  “The tapes. I still have those tapes. I didn’t have time to watch them today.”

  “Did you find a VCR?”

  I laughed and told him of the wild goose chase I had gone on in my hunt for the antique. We returned to our food, eating in silence.

  “Wouldn’t it be better if my mom just came clean about the factory being an old witch gathering place? If she won’t, maybe I should.”

  He choked on the drink of soda he had just taken. “No. Definitely not a good idea.”

  “Why not? It would explain why the investigators were interested in the place,” I reasoned.

  “Harold would have to include that information in his report. Can you imagine what would happen if that became public knowledge?”

  I grimaced as a picture of the future of Lemon Bliss flashed into my head. With the recent interest in the supernatural, including all things vampire and witch related, it would definitely create a bit of hysteria. My mother kept a low profile, but with enough digging, it wouldn’t be long before people figured out she was the descendant of the factory owner.

  My name was on the deed and I would certainly be dragged into the mess. While there would probably be a huge group of people who envied and admired those who were real witches, or could claim witches in their family history, there was also the other side of the coin. A much more dangerous side.

  “I guess you’re right. What do you know about the factory?” I asked, wondering if he had more of the history than I did. Clearly, I had been sheltered my entire life, while Gabriel had been told all about the witches.

  “I know witches haven’t had it easy in general. History proves that. My mother told me stories about a coven that lived in this area in the early nineteen-hundreds. After the Salem witch trials, witches were much more careful, but according to my mother, there were some who were far too bold.”

  “What about that coven?” I asked, intrigued because I knew that would have been the coven my great-great-grandmother and so on down the line would have been a part of.

  “Apparently, they found themselves embroiled in a murder investigation as well. It was rumored the witches had killed a man who was threatening to expose them. Back then, people weren’t as accepting. They faced criminal charges as well as being run out of town.”

  “Another murder?” I asked in surprise. My mother had glossed over that little tidbit of information.

  He nodded his head. “I don’t remember the circumstances, but I know several of the witches were under suspicion. It changed the way they practiced their magic. As I understand it, that’s when the factory became their secret clubhouse,” he joked.

  “Makes sense, I guess,” I mumbled.

  I needed to ask my mom about that incident. It would explain why she was so desperate to hide the truth now.

  “You want dessert?” he asked.

  “What are our options?”

  He chuckled. “I saw a nice, big brownie. We can split it.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  While he went up to procure our chocolate feast, I pondered over the new information. It was a lot like putting together a puzzle. I had some of the pieces, but not all. I needed to watch those tapes. I had a feeling they would tell me more than anyone in this town would. If I found real evidence incriminating my mother, I would have to decide what to do. No matter what my suspicions were, I couldn’t believe she would actually kill a man, but what if the death were the result of a spell? It could have been Lila that cast the spell and my mom was covering for her to protect the coven.

  I groaned thinking about the many possibilities, all of them leading back to my mother and her friends.

  “That bad, huh?” Gabriel said, taking his seat at our table.

  “I was just thinking about the situation. I wish I could go back in time and forget any of this ever happened. I would be at my bakery and living my regularly scheduled life.”

  “Not me.”

  “Not you, what?”

  “I’m kind of glad this all happened.”

  “I don’t think that man’s family would agree.”

  “I don’t wish death on anyone, but I’m glad you were forced to come here. I may have never met you if he hadn’t met an untimely death.”

  I looked at him, and as much as I wanted to say he was wrong, I agreed with him.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” I said, leaning forward and lowering my voice, “but, I think I’m glad I got dragged down here, too.”

  He grinned and took a bite of the brownie.

  Chapter 12

  I needed to get to bed. I was exhausted, yet far too anxious to sleep. I had to see what was on those tapes. I was terrified I would see something horrible, but also hoping against the odds I would find something that proved my mother innocent on all counts. I didn’t want to see her wearing prison orange. The woman could pull off some eccentric looks, but an orange jumpsuit was not going to work for her.

  I changed into my shorts and t-shirt and settled in on the couch to watch some videos. I realized after about fifteen minutes of watching the first tape that the camera was set to turn on when it detected motion. The time stamp on the bottom corner of the screen attested to that fact.

  Though I saw nothing each time, I assumed it was likely dust being stirred up that caused enough motion for the camera to turn on. The first tape was a complete let down and I started to think I was wasting my time. This was probably why the tapes had been left behind. There was nothing to see.

  I popped in the next tape and rubbed my eyes, trying to wipe away the sleep. I could feel something was here, I just wasn’t sure what. The only way to find it was the old-fashioned way. I had to see it to believe it.

  I blinked, rubbed my eyes and rewound the tape. I stood inches from the television, wanting to make sure I saw what I thought I saw.

  “Oh no,” I murmured into the empty room. “Oh no. Oh Mom.”

  I watched my mother walk into the factory and head towards the back on the bottom floor. There had to be a dozen cameras around the factory, which was a little disturbing. How could my mother not realize she had been caught?

  I stood in front of the TV and gasped when I saw Lila walk in and head out of the camera’s view in the same direction as my mother. The cameras bounced around from one area to the next, but there was no sign of them. It was as if they disappeared. A short few minutes later, Magnolia and Coral could be seen walking in together. They appeared to be laughing and chatting as if it was completely normal for them to be inside an abandoned factory in the middle of the night.

  I checked the time stamp. It was just after midnight a week before the man had been killed. George Cannon hadn’t been lying. My mother and her friends had been caught. I had the proof right in front of me.

  Several more tapes revealed the same thing. My mother and her friends sneaking in the back of the factory and spending anywhere from thirty minutes to several hours somewhere off camera. It explained the footprints we saw in the dirt that day, but it didn’t explain what they were doing.

  I shut off the TV and headed upstairs. I was exhausted. It was after one and I needed to get some sleep. The tapes only proved my mother had been at the factory. There was no smoking gun or proof she hurt the man. Of course, I hadn’
t watched all of the tapes, yet, and wasn’t certain what I would find when I did. I closed my eyes and tried to block it all out.

  I managed to drift off to sleep, dreaming about witches, brooms and cauldrons.

  As usual, I woke early. My eyes felt like sandpaper had been run over them a few times. I tried to go back to sleep, but it was pointless. My brain was in overdrive, trying to solve the mystery of my mom’s involvement with the supernatural investigator’s death.

  I stumbled into the shower, hoping it would revive me. Not much luck there, which meant I was going to require copious amounts of caffeine and sugar. I really could have gone for one of my cream-filled doughnuts. My bakery was famous for them.

  I yanked open the kitchen cupboards, looking for sugar. If I was going to stay here another day, I had to get some real food in the place. I was cranky, tired and bleary-eyed by the time I pulled up in front of Crooked Coffee. I probably should have had a warning label on my forehead.

  “Hi,” I mumbled to the young man behind the counter. “Coffee and an éclair.”

  “We don’t have éclairs.”

  I pulled my sunglasses down and glared at him with my beet-red eyes. “Fine. Give me a doughnut with frosting. I don’t care what kind.”

  “Someone’s a little cranky this morning.”

  I groaned. I was not in the mood for this. I took a deep breath, promising myself I couldn’t hit or snap at anyone, including Lila who came walking in the entrance moments after I did. “Good morning, Lila.”

  “Dear me, you look a little rough.”

  “Thank you. That’s the look I was going for,” I replied.

  She took a step back. “Oh my.”

  I turned around and grabbed my coffee and doughnut from the cashier and made to leave, but Lila stopped me.

  “Is everything okay, dear?”

  “No. Excuse me, please. I need to get going.”

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry this morning?”

  I still had my sunglasses on, so I hoped she couldn’t see my eye roll. “I have a few things to take care of.”

  She stepped out of the way as I pushed past her and out the door. I had no idea where I was going. I’d intended to drink my coffee in the shop, but should have known that peace and quiet was not to be had there. Someone was always there and I was beginning to think I had some sort of homing beacon implanted on me.

  I sat in my car for a few minutes, sipping my coffee. I watched as Lila made her way out, then quickly started my car and backed out of the spot. I had told her I was in a hurry, so I’d better act like it.

  I drove down Crooked Street, debating where to go. I didn’t want to go back to the house right away. Not yet.

  An idea occurred to me and I took the first right and headed out of town. I parked in front of the old blue house and smiled. I loved this place.

  I got out of the car, already feeling better. When Magnolia pushed open the screen door and stepped outside, I smiled and waved.

  “Violet Broussard! I’m so glad you came by! I was hoping I’d see you while you were in town,” she said with a warm smile, walking towards me.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come by sooner.”

  “Come inside. You have to tell me everything. Your mom says you own a bakery?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I do. It’s doing pretty well.”

  We walked inside where she invited me to have a seat. “Do you want me to freshen up that coffee?”

  “Please, I’m beat.”

  “You look like it. What’s wrong? Is your grandmother’s spirit keeping you up at night?”

  I almost dropped the empty cup in my hand. “What?”

  Magnolia gave me that smile I remembered from when I was younger. She used to babysit me quite a bit. Her daughter, Daphne, and I had been friends and spent a lot of time together. Whenever we were up to something, Magnolia always knew and always gave us that same smile.

  “Your mom said she spoke with you about the family secret.”

  I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Yes, she did, which is why I’m here.”

  “Let me get that coffee and we can talk,” she said, taking my cup and heading into the kitchen.

  I looked around her house. It was small, cozy and inviting. She wasn’t a rich woman. Like all the other women my mother was friends with, she had been a single parent. My mother’s friends had a hard time holding onto husbands. I hoped I didn’t inherit that particular trait.

  She sat down and patted my knee. “Here you go, sweetie. What’s worrying you?”

  I didn’t want to come right out and tell her, but I needed to see how much she was willing to share with me. I had already seen the evidence on the tapes. Magnolia visited the factory and was just as suspicious as the rest.

  “I don’t know if anything is worrying me, but I am worried about this supernatural investigator. Do I need to worry?”

  “I think your mom is handling things. There’s really nothing any of us can do until Harold decides if it was a murder or an accident,” she said, with resignation.

  “What if he decides it is murder?”

  “Nothing we can do but be prepared.”

  “Why would you need to be prepared?”

  She looked down at her hands. “You just never know. There are some rumors and well, you know the rest.”

  She was hedging. None of these women were going to be straight with me. It was infuriating.

  “Magnolia, tell me something. How far would you go to protect your secret and the secrets of your friends?”

  She appeared lost in thought for a moment. “I don’t really know. I know I would do everything in my power to keep our families safe. Sometimes, you have to do things you would rather not for the greater good. What good would it do anyone for our secret to be exposed and flaunted all over some cable television show?”

  It was not the answer I was expecting. “I don’t know. I don’t think I would murder anyone over it.”

  Magnolia chuckled. “Well, I don’t think any of us would, but you never know until you walk a mile in another person’s shoes.”

  The door swung open and Daphne came in. “Violet?”

  I stood and walked towards her to embrace her. “Daphne! It has been too long! How are you?” I asked, genuinely happy to see her.

  “I’m great! What are you doing here?”

  “I’m in town for a couple days and I thought I’d stop by and visit your mom. Are you living back here?”

  She nodded. “Yep, came home a couple months ago, only to find everyone had disappeared.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were living here. I would have tracked you down earlier. We have to catch up!”

  “Are you doing anything now?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Not really. I’m hurrying up and waiting.”

  She nodded her head while furrowing her brow. “Oh, the investigation. I’m sorry you had to come back for this. It’s really sad someone died in the old factory, but I don’t know why Harold is making such a big fuss about it. As if your mom would ever hurt anyone.”

  I kept my opinion to myself and didn’t say any more. Clearly Daphne wasn’t privy to all the information. “Want to grab some coffee?” I asked.

  She looked at the cup in my hand. “Looks like you’ve already been drinking coffee.”

  I laughed. “Trust me, I need more, plus it’s before noon. Coffee before noon and espresso after noon. That’s my rule.”

  “I’m in. Crooked Coffee?” she asked.

  Though they had the best coffee in town, I hadn’t had good luck with the coffee shop. Every time I set foot in the place, I was disturbed by some busy body.

  “Is that really the only coffee shop in town?” I asked.

  “No, but it’s the only place most people get coffee. There’s the diner, but I don’t think they’re open this early.”

  I sighed and gave in. “All right, Crooked Coffee it is. I’ll meet you over there?”

  “Yep, I�
�ll be over there about five minutes behind you. Save me a seat,” she winked.

  I laughed. The place wasn’t usually too crowded. That is until I showed up.

  Chapter 13

  The table I had become so fond of was taken, forcing me to take one by a window instead. It wasn’t as though it mattered if anyone could see me through the window anyway. Anyone who wanted to find me always seemed to know where I was regardless. I ordered another stout cup of coffee and hoped it would finally satisfy my craving for caffeine. After liberally adding sugar, I sipped my coffee and stared out the window, lost in thought.

  “I’m here!” Daphne said, slightly out of breath as she sat down. “Mom got to chatting and before I knew it, ten minutes had passed. I’ll be right back,” she said, getting up and going to the counter.

  I watched her move and wished I had a fraction of her energy. Daphne’s almost black hair was pulled back in a slapdash ponytail. She shared her mother’s bright blue eyes and willowy build.

  Returning to the table, she sat down with a flourish. “Tell me everything.”

  I burst out laughing. “That could take a while.”

  “Okay, let’s start with the basics. Boyfriend? Married?”

  “Neither. You?”

  “Long story and I don’t really want to talk about it when I’m in a good mood. How’s your bakery?”

  “Good, really good, which reminds me I need to call my assistant manager today and check in. What are you doing these days?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m a mess. Right now, I’m working at the bank in Ruby Red. I worked as a home caregiver in New Orleans. Before that I waitressed and before that I worked as a photographer’s assistant. Nothing ever fits. I feel like I’m lost and can’t find my way.”

  “I’m sorry. Have you tried one of those tests that tells you what kind of career you should go into?”

  She laughed, “Just the one we did in school.”

  I shrugged a shoulder and offered a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. You’re still young. You’ll find something you love.”