The Case of the Trust Spell: A Hillcrest Witch Mystery (Hillcrest Witch Cozy Mystery Book 4)

by Amorette Anderson

  “How much do you smoke a day?” I ask.

  “Oh... “ she avoids my eyes as she reports, “One or two, here or there.”

  Hm. My PI senses are really tingling now.

  I am onto something. I’ve been wondering what Beth was hiding. She said that she laid down in Cora’s guest bed to test the mattress, but clearly, she didn’t or she would have known that it was extra soft. Is this what she was hiding? Her smoking habit?

  In my bag, Turkey shifts around and then meows softly. He knows that we’re onto something too.

  My cat has some pretty fine PI instincts of his own.

  “Beth,” I say. “Last night when we spoke at the park, I asked you where you were while Janice was being murdered. You stated that you were in Cora’s guest bedroom.”

  “That’s right...” Beth says. There’s a little quiver in her tone. She’s still not meeting my eye.

  “I asked you what you were doing in there, and you said that you laid down on the mattress to see if it was suitable for you. But that’s not really what you were doing, is it?”

  She looks down and to the right, and bites her lip.

  “You snuck upstairs, ducked into the guest bedroom, opened the window, and smoked a cigarette, didn’t you?” I demand.

  “Please, don’t tell Henry!” Beth says. Finally, she looks into my eyes. “I’ll do anything. I’ll even give you money if that’s what you want. That’s worked before... please.”

  “I don’t want your money,” I say. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to go blabbing your little secret to your husband. That’s between you and him. Beth, don’t you see that this isn’t about the secret you’re hiding from your husband? This is about murder. This is about justice. This is about stopping a killer from killing again. Heck, he or she might have killed twice already...”

  Beth sniffles. “I should have told you the truth,” she says. Then she begins rummaging through her bag. “I could really use a cigarette. Stressful situations make me—”

  “Beth!” I say, diverting her attention. “Now is not the time. I need you to focus for a minute. You weren’t honest before but now’s your chance. Tell me everything that happened on Saturday night.”

  She stops rummaging in her bag. “Well, we all met up at the Spirit Station and then journeyed through the portal to the Earth Realm. You know the rest.”

  “Walk me through it anyway. My coven and I met you up at the portal gate. We gave you a ride down to Cora’s house. Take it from there.”

  “Alright... well, let’s see. It had been a long day of traveling. I love my husband dearly. Truly, I do. But he can get so competitive during tournaments. It gets on my nerves. Just a little bit. I do love him.”

  “Okay,” I say. “So Henry was getting on your nerves. And...?”

  “When we entered into Cora’s house, I pretended that I had to use the restroom. I thought maybe I could have a smoke in the bathroom quickly, just to calm my nerves. Janice went in first, so I settled in to wait. Then I noticed that the guest room was empty, so I went into it.”

  “How long were you in there?” I ask.

  “Maybe five minutes,” Beth says. “Tops. I only smoked half a cigarette you know. I snuffed it out and placed it outside the window ledge. By then I figured I’d better be on my way before anyone started to wonder where I was.”

  “Did you hear anything?” I ask. “You know—footsteps, or voices?”

  Beth shakes her head. She looks me right in the eye as she says, “No, I didn’t. I had the window open and I was leaning out of it to smoke. I didn’t hear a thing. Fred and Marve were outside but you know that already, I’m sure. Fred was looking up at the stars and Marve was filming, as always.” Beth rolls her eyes.

  Then she adds. “Marve went into the house after a few minutes, and Fred stayed out there looking up at the sky. I don’t blame him—the atmosphere here on earth makes stars look much brighter than they do in our realm. I supposed I got caught up in it—too caught up to pay attention to what was happening inside. I didn’t hear anything that I can remember.”

  I scrunch up my lips. “Shoot,” I say. “I was really hoping that you’d heard something.”

  “Sorry,” Beth says.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “At least now I know what you were doing up there. I just wish I’d known it sooner.”

  “You haven’t found the killer yet?” Beth asks.

  “Nope,” I say with a sigh. “And you were on top of my list. Your secret smoke breaks give you an alibi. That means I have to take you off of my list. Let’s see—that leaves Boris, Fred, and Marve. And I only have a few hours left!”

  “Well, I did see Boris on the stairs,” Beth says. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

  Just then, a car cruises past us. I feel my heart begin to beat fast as it brakes at the end of the block. I recognize the car. It’s our town librarian, Rebecca’s Volvo. Did she notice transparent Beth? Is she about to reverse, and snap a picture or something?

  I hold my breath, and only release it once Rebecca takes a right-hand turn and disappears from view.

  She didn’t notice us. I don’t want to hang around here risking another situation like that.

  “You should get back to Cora’s,” I say. “Stay out of sight until dark.”

  “I will,” Beth says. “And thank you for keeping my secret for me. I appreciate that. When Marve caught me smoking on video, he threatened to tell Henry. He said that Henry deserved to know. I had to pay Marve a large sum of money just to keep quiet.”

  “Marve caught you smoking on tape?” I ask.

  Beth nods. “He’s always filming. He must have so much footage that he never uses. He’s obsessed with his work for W-SPORT. He’s just as passionate about filming as he is about playing tennis.”

  “Interesting,” I say. I know that Beth and I need to part ways. I don’t want anyone to spot the two of us talking out in broad daylight. But there’s one more thing I need to ask her.

  “Beth,” I say. “What did Marve do with the footage that he had of you smoking? Do you think he destroyed it?”

  Beth rolls her eyes. “I wish,” she says. She sighs. “But, no. That footage will haunt me for the rest of my life. Marve refused to destroy it. He says that he never destroys his videos. He saves everything. Can you believe it? He must have boxes of film stored up.”

  When we head off in opposite directions, her words are ringing in my mind. ‘He never destroys his videos.’

  I pause once I turn back onto Main Street, long enough to send Cora a text message, asking her to check for cigarette butts on the window ledge of her guest room. I ask her to keep her snooping secret so that her guests don’t know what she’s up to. Then I keep pedaling for home, thinking about my conversation with Beth the whole time.

  ‘He never destroys his videos.’

  Marve caught Beth smoking on camera. He’s always filming. He saves the videos. What else has he caught on film? Is it possible that with his obsessive filming, he caught a clue that could crack this case?

  Yes. I think it is possible.

  I turn left onto Blackbear Street, riding towards my apartment. As I pedal, I hear Turkey meow. Then he speaks telepathically. “I think we need to talk to Marve,” he says.

  “My thoughts exactly,” I agree.

  Chapter Eleven

  I’ve only been home for five minutes, long enough to take off my coat, hat, and boots, and greet my houseguests, who are still cozy on the couch by the way, when I hear a knock on my door.

  Who could that be?

  Of course, I hope that it’s Max.

  I’m pleasantly surprised.

  When I open the door, Max is standing on my welcome mat, grinning in that self-confident way that I find so attractive.

  “Penny,” he says. “My, you look lovely.”

  “I do?” I reach up and pat my head. My chin length brown hair is smooshed against my scalp. I’m almost one hundred percent certain that I have a pretty major case
of hat-hair going on. “Best Hair Day Ever,” I whisper under my breath. It’s a little spell I just recently learned from Cora. I feel a little shimmery sensation on my scalp and know that my hair is rearranging itself. That’s better.

  Max grins. He loves it when I work magic. “You have a glow about you...” he says.

  “Really?” I ask. “Well, I did just bike home in the cold air.” I reach my fingertips to my cheeks. They’re flushed and burning—more due to the fact that I’m standing in front of Max than because of my winter biking activities.

  “No,” Max says. “It’s not that... it’s a different kind of glow. You’ve been practicing witchcraft, haven’t you? And more than just on your hair.” He steps forward, leans down and kisses me.

  I reach my arms up and wrap them around his neck. Our lips seal together. Time ceases to exist. I feel his mouth move against mine and I’m completely lost. When we part it takes me a moment to reorient myself. Slowly, his question comes back to me.

  “Practicing witchcraft, yes...” I say while I catch my breath.

  I step aside, making way for Max to enter. As he brushes past me, I say, “Cora, Marley, Annie and I were trying to make sense of the Trust Spell. It didn’t go very well.”

  “Ah! Wonderful. The Trust Spell. That one’s key. You won’t get far without having trust.”

  “That’s what the book says, too,” I say. “The problem is, the spell is more of a riddle than anything. It’s almost impossible—I mean, it’s a challenge to understand it.”

  I lead the way into the apartment. My two house guests look up from their reading. “Pat, Camille,” I say. “You met Max last night at the games. Max, you remember Pat and Camille.”

  “Of course,” Max says with a charming smile. He walks over to the couch and extends his hand.

  The two women greet Max with a handshake. Then, wanting to talk to Max in private, I excuse us. Pat and Camille return to their reading as I lead Max towards my bedroom. Turkey’s nowhere to be seen, which doesn’t surprise me. I’m guessing that he’s sitting in the bathtub, which is one of his favorite places to hide when Max comes over.

  I’d really love it if Turkey and Max got along, but I can’t worry about that now. I have enough on my mind. I sit down on the edge of my bed.

  “Did you and your coven try to solve the riddle?” Max asks as he takes a seat on my bed next to me.

  I nod.

  “And?” Max asks.

  “We failed,” I say.

  Max tilts his chin up and laughs. “You are so adorable! Penny, failure isn’t possible. It’s a completely made up concept. If you work at something, you’re not failing. You’re simply learning. Let’s hear what you figured out today.”

  “Okay,” I say. I tuck my feet underneath me and reach for a blanket at the foot of my bed. It’s nice to be inside and warm after being out on my bike. My knees and hands are still a little bit sore from falling on the ice, but every minute that passes here on the edge of my bed with Max is making me feel better.

  “Well... there’s the way the poem is written. It’s as though it’s spoken by a teacher. Here. Listen.” I close my eyes and begin reciting the poem from memory.

  How to trust? I hear you ask.

  Let me tell you, it’s no small task.”

  But trust you must, if you’re to advance,

  So train hard, my child, don’t leave it to chance”

  Practice, child, is where trust lies,

  Little steps reveal the first disguise.

  For pain in a dream is not pain at all,

  And could one get up if one did not fall?

  You’re safe as can be, child, safe in your bed

  And all that’s not trustworthy is wisps of thoughts in your head.”

  I open my eyes and look at Max. He smiles.

  “It’s perfectly clear to me,” he says.

  I widen my eyes. “Really? Then tell me what it means.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Max says. “That would deprive you of all of the fun of figuring it out for yourself.”

  “Come on,” I say. “Just a few little hints?”

  Max says nothing. Instead, he tilts his chin back and laughs.

  I reach for my pillow and begin hitting his upper arm with it. Thump, thump, thump. He laughs harder as I hit him.

  That increases my frustration. “This” thump “is” thump “not” thump “funny!” I say.

  I pause with the pillow mid-air. “If you know what the spell-poem-riddle whatever is getting at, you have to share it with me! I mean come on, Max!”

  I meet his gaze. “If it’s my destiny to become a witch, and I inherited that book for a reason, maybe it’s also my destiny to be dating you... you know? You’ve kind of been my guide so far. Maybe you’re supposed to help me.”

  His hearty chuckles die down as we stare at each other.

  “You know,” he says sincerely, with his rich, deep voice. “I hadn't thought of it that way. But maybe you’re right. Perhaps that’s part of the reason I’m so attracted to you.”

  I reach up for my newly transformed hair and pat the ends of my curls a few times. “You mean, besides my good looks?” I bat my eyelashes in his direction. I’m sort of teasing and sort of not. Max is always telling me how pretty I am, and I have to admit that over the past few months I’ve started to believe him.

  “Yes,” he says. “I mean besides your obvious physical beauty. Do you know how sometimes things just seem to light up? Certain books, beings, objects... You see them and you just have to know more about them. They call out to you. That’s what you did, the moment I saw you. Penny, I do believe that you are a part of my destiny.”

  I feel goosebumps rise up over my whole body—in a good way. They’re truth-bumps, as Annie calls them.

  “I think you’re part of my destiny too,” I say.

  We gaze deep into each other’s eyes. A rich silence fills the space between us as the truth of our words resonates.

  When Max speaks, his voice is gravelly and even deeper than usual. “It’s nice to know you feel that way too.”

  “I do,” I say softly.

  I’m not sure how long we just stare into each other’s eyes, but it feels like a long time. Finally, I clear my throat as the world starts to come back to me. “Will you help me understand, then?” I ask.

  He moves closer to me on the bed and puts his arm around my shoulders. “Penny,” he says. “You don’t understand because you're so immersed in the other way of living. You’re so used to feeling alone. For so long, you’ve felt that you are the only one you could ever really trust. Half of the time, you don’t even trust yourself.”

  “That’s because I mess up a lot,” I say softly.

  Max doesn’t argue. Instead, he continues, “Try to imagine another way. Try to imagine what it would be like if you didn’t feel alone. I know, it’s kind of like asking a fish to imagine what it would be like to live out of the water, but that’s why small little steps are required. You can’t go straight from being immersed in the water to living in the air, if you know what I mean.”

  “To be honest,” I say, “I’m barely following you. But I’ll try.” I close my eyes and try to imagine what it would be like to feel trust in my bones and in my heart. I get a little glimmer of it and then it fades away.

  “I think I had it for a second there,” I say softly, as I open my eyes.

  “Good,” Max says. He smiles. “How did it feel?”

  “Ummm... different. Foreign. Nice...” I think about the brief moment of trust that I just experienced. “Relaxing,” I say.

  “Deeply relaxing,” agrees Max. “That’s good. That’s how it should feel. Deeply relaxing. Now, do you think you understand the poem a little bit better?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe.”

  Max chuckles softly. “You know,” he says.

  I nod. “Right. I do know. Yes, that made me understand the poem better—in some weird way.”

  “
Good,” Max says. We sit in silence for a little while. I’m enjoying the sensation of sitting so close to him. I like the feel of his strong arm wrapped around me, and the feel of his solid shoulder beneath my cheek.

  After a few minutes, I say, “Max, do you think that the Trust Spell will help my coven and me figure out who killed Janice?”

  I feel Max nod. His chin grazes the top of my head. “Trust helps with everything, Penny.”

  “Good,” I say, shifting a little bit in my seat so that I can look at him. “Because I think Janice’s killer has murdered before. Pat and Camille told me that Fred’s tennis partner died unexpectedly, twenty years ago. I think he was poisoned.”

  Max raises his brows. “Poison,” he says. “That’s very different than being hit over the head with a trophy. What makes you think both crimes were committed by the same person?”

  “The timing,” I say. “Fred’s tennis partner died during the qualifying games, right before the last Earth Tournament, two decades ago. Janice died right before this tournament began.”

  “I see,” Max says. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

  “Catch the killer,” I say. “I still have a lot of work to do though.”

  “How can I help?” Max asks.

  I lean against him. “You’re already helping,” I say. “Just by being you.”

  He strokes my hair. “I believe in you Penny,” he says. “I know you’re on the right track. Follow your instincts.”

  I tilt my chin up and look into his eyes. “Thank you,” I say.

  Max reaches for my fake glasses and pulls them off. He lays them down on the bed near him.

  Our lips meet again, and this time our kiss lasts for more than just a few minutes. I guess my instincts are telling me to roll around on my bed making out with Max Shire because that’s what I end up doing for longer than I care to admit.

  When I finally pull myself from the tangle of covers and handsome vampire limbs, I’m breathless and energized at the same time. “Whew!” I say, straightening my shirt. “I’m not sure how productive that was, but it sure felt good.”

  “I think I could arrange for it to feel a lot better,” Max says, still lying in my bed.