Mist Murder
Page 12
“When you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous,” Abby said. “But I don’t think you should totally discount it. Would it be a coincidence that there is a bottle labeled poison in the building where someone was poisoned?”
“Yes it would be a coincidence because it is full,” Jill said.
Before it could come to blows between the angry vampire and the oblivious werewolf, Esmeralda stood up and announced that it was time to go home. With one wave of her hand, the table and tea set disappeared, including the cup that Jill had been holding. As soon as they all stood up, the chairs disappeared too.
Ushering Abby and Jill out the door, Esmeralda and Maggie finally found themselves alone. As they moved through the thick fog toward home, Maggie turned to her mother.
“Do you think that the poison bottle actually has to do with this case?” Maggie asked.
“I’m not sure,” Esmeralda said with a shrug. She was staring out into the fog as though her eyes could cut through it.
“Why did you suddenly want everyone to leave?” Maggie asked.
Esmeralda sighed as she shuffled along, leaning heavily on her walking stick. For the most part, her walking stick was typically more of a showpiece than anything, but lately, Esmeralda had been relying on it more and more to actually help her walk.
“First of all, I could see where the bickering was headed and it wouldn’t end well,” Esmeralda said. “And more importantly, I think it’s finally time I tell you something important.”
Esmeralda’s voice was calm and serious, worlds away from her normally bubbly tone. Maggie furrowed her brow at the seriousness.
“Tell me what?” she asked.
“It needs to wait until we get home,” Esmeralda said. “I can’t risk anyone overhearing.”
At that, Maggie’s calm stomach started to immediately flip flop again. The tea and female camaraderie had calmed her nerves, but whatever Esmeralda had to say was not something Maggie wanted to hear.
Chapter Seventeen
Back at home, Esmeralda insisted that Maggie sit in the living room off of the kitchen. It was attached to the kitchen on one end and Esmeralda’s bedroom at the other. Their house was a bit of a mish-mash of rooms, like someone had continued to tack on the rooms they had forgotten to include at the start. In fact, their entire house looked more like two houses that had been smashed together and in fact, that was sort of how it had happened.
But no matter how odd the placement was, Maggie always enjoyed the living room. On one end was a lovely screen porch that the witches sat on when the weather was warmer. There was a large, plush couch that was the most comfortable piece of furniture in the house. It always seemed to swallow Maggie and settle her into the coziest positions.
The best part of the living room, though, was the large fireplace that sat in the middle of two large windows facing out over the front yard. Maggie had always wondered how it was lit and now she knew that Esmeralda wasn’t some sort of fire-starting genius. She just used magic to light the fire. Either way, it was always crackling away, throwing warmth out into the otherwise chilly room.
“Here we go,” Esmeralda said.
She came in through the door carrying a tray loaded down with snacks and extra-large mugs of hot chocolate. Maggie wondered what her mother was going to tell her. Was she trying to ply her with snacks in hopes that she would take whatever the news was in stride? Grabbing a mug of hot chocolate and taking a big swig, Maggie didn’t really care at that moment.
After loading up a small plate with a few cookies and things, Maggie settled back on the comfortable couch. She pulled a throw blanket over her lap and gobbled up a few cookies before drinking most of her hot chocolate. Wiping the hot chocolate mustache off of her face, she turned to notice that her mother hadn’t touched a thing, not even her own mug of hot chocolate.
“Is something wrong?” Maggie asked.
“I had an idea that I wanted to bring up with you,” Esmeralda said. Her bony fingers were knitted together, her hands firmly in her lap. Esmeralda was sitting on the other end of the couch, so far away from Maggie that they would have both been able to lay down without touching if they really wanted to. “It’s something to help you out a little bit.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Maggie said.
Esmeralda reached forward and took the mug out of Maggie’s hands, setting it on the coffee table in front of them. She picked up her own mug like she was going to take a drink out of it, but thought better of it and set it back down on the table.
Maggie’s mind started racing. What did her mother want her to do now? She was already being forced to learn magic while also taking over parts of the investigation. So far, Maggie had been lucky enough to not have to do any magic lessons and use hardly any magic at all during this fog. If only she was that lucky every month.
“It isn’t so bad,” Esmeralda said. “I had the idea that perhaps we could put together some kind of team to help you out with investigations. Sort of like how Jill usually shows up to help us.”
“Jill isn’t any help at all,” Maggie pointed out, thinking about how many times she’d had to slap the furry paw away from potential pieces of evidence that day.
“Maybe not Jill, but there are some people in this town who are actually helpful for our job,” Esmeralda said. “Like Ned.”
She spit out the last part like it almost pained her to admit that Ned was sometimes a useful guy to know. He had certainly been a help to them that morning.
“But how would that even work?” Maggie asked. “How would we have them as some sort of team during the fog? What would we do during normal times?”
Esmeralda twiddled her thumbs a bit before grabbing a cookie. Maggie could tell she was just stalling for time because her mother had eaten an oatmeal raisin cookie despite being adamant that putting raisins in baked goods should be a crime.
“I did put some thought into it,” Esmeralda said after choking down the cookies. She put her pointer finger in the air while she grabbed her mug and chugged down a few big mouthfuls of the delicious liquid. “We need to come up with some sort of social club and set it up during the fog, inviting whoever we want to take part in it. Then we need some sort of cover during the normal time. They obviously won’t remember the whole ‘solving crime’ aspect of it during normal times, but they will during each fog.”
Oatmeal raisin cookies did not anger Maggie like they did her mother, so she grabbed one and ate it slowly, thinking over her mother’s proposal. Letting townspeople in on what they did seemed to kind of defeat the purpose of their job. Sure, they were the only ones aware during both times, but otherwise what was the point?
Besides, if they decided to go ahead with this group, it was just one more thing that Maggie had to worry about and one more thing that her mother would be forcing her to do out in public.
“We don’t have to jump into it immediately, but I was sort of hoping that we could get started during this fog,” Esmeralda said.
“There’s only another day and a half left in this fog,” Maggie said. “How are we supposed to organize this entire thing and solve the murder in that time?”
“It would be easier if we had a team helping us,” Esmeralda said.
The witches sat quietly together as the fire crackled in the fireplace. Outside, it had started to rain and the drops fell pitter-patter on the window. It was November which meant that it got dark early. Pair that with the rainstorm coming in and the abnormal fog that was out there and it was almost pitch black outside of their living room windows.
Maggie tried to enjoy that sound while she thought through Esmeralda’s idea. Many hands do make light work, but would there be too many cooks in the kitchen? Maggie shook her head violently to get the cliches out of her head. There was something Esmeralda wasn’t telling her and whatever it was, it was changing Esmeralda’s mind. Maggie had gotten the sense that Esmeralda was so proud of their magic skills that she was almost haughty about them. They caused her t
o strut a bit and the magic seemed to be where Esmeralda got her confidence from. Why now would she want to include other people in their very important work? Something suddenly clicked.
“Does this have anything to do with the death problem?” Maggie asked.
She could tell that something had her mother on edge and this death problem would certainly fit the bill. Not that Maggie fully understood the death problem. It didn’t make sense to her like it did to her mother. Somehow, people were magically dying around town despite their life lights being strong. Except the only magical people around were Esmeralda and Maggie. So where was the magic that was causing people to randomly die coming from?
Esmeralda had been adamant that the only people in town who could do real magic were the two witches. Sure, Ned could do some parlor tricks and mix up a few potions, but he couldn’t do magic like they could. The whole situation was more confusing to Maggie than scary, but knowing that it was setting her mother so far off balance was a bit worrisome for Maggie.
“Sort of,” Esmeralda said. “I just really don’t like the magical tinge I can feel to all of these deaths. And the fact that it has progressed to murder really makes me worry.”
“I just don’t understand how it can be magical when we are the only magical people,” Maggie said.
A pained smile spread across Esmeralda’s face. It was the sort of smile that a tired parent gives their attention-seeking child, the kind of smile that is genuine, but tired. That was how Esmeralda was feeling about all of this.
“There are a lot of things that you don’t understand yet, sweetheart,” Esmeralda said. “I know how much all of this is to take in and I’ve only been telling you small bits in ways that I know that you can understand. Someday, I’ll be able to tell you everything. But for now, I want to set up a team to help you because I really don’t like the feeling this town has taken on during every fog.”
A small bit in the back of Maggie’s mind worried about the appearance of the death problem and how it lined up with her first awareness of the fog. Sure, Esmeralda said that it had actually started a few months before that with unexplained deaths, but the real murders started the exact time that she stepped into her powers and became aware. Actually, it was more like the time that she was thrown into her powers and forced to become aware of the fog. It was probably just her anxiety talking, but she hated that they lined up like that.
“I understand that you want to have people who can help me, but I just don’t understand why it can’t just be the two of us,” Maggie said.
Esmeralda’s hazel eyes flickered. There was a hint of sadness behind them that Maggie didn’t like. Her mother had always been an upbeat person, only taking on negative emotions for a short time and discarding them like a used tissue. But the sadness seemed like it had been hanging around Esmeralda for a while.
“What else is wrong?” Maggie asked. “I just feel like you’re hiding something from me.”
Picking up her hot chocolate mug, Esmeralda took a long swig. Maggie couldn’t bear the thought of another drink until she figured out exactly what was going on with her mother. Lately, it had been like she was living with a shell of her mother half of the time. The real Esmeralda would pop out for a while before receding into the sadness and worry that had been surrounding her.
“I’m not trying to hide anything from you,” Esmeralda said. “Really, I’m not. But there is something that I just haven’t told you yet. I didn’t want to scare you while you were trying to learn about your powers and about everything that comes along with them.”
Once Esmeralda mentioned the word scared, Maggie really did feel scared. The sheer fact that whatever Esmeralda was withholding might be something that would scare her really did make her feel scared. Maggie could hear that the rain outside had picked up into icy sleet that tapped constantly on the windows like it was trying to get in. It felt like something evil trying to pry itself into this warm, cozy room. Maybe it was helping suck all of the happiness and good feelings out and replacing them with all of the feelings of fear and sadness that were hanging around instead.
“I wanted you to have a team around because you need people to help you,” Esmeralda said. “You need other people because I won’t be around for long.”
Chapter Eighteen
Esmeralda’s words hit Maggie like a ton of bricks. What did she mean that she wouldn’t be around for long? Was her mother going to die? Did she have some incurable disease? Maggie’s heart started to beat so fast that it seemed to be going double time. She collapsed back into the pillows of the couch, letting them swallow her up as she felt frozen.
Her mother sat and watched, her sad, hazel eyes flickering all over Maggie, but never leaving her daughter. She seemed to be sizing up her reaction, waiting for Maggie to make the first move.
“Are you going to die?” Maggie asked.
Her voice was soft, having to fight to get out of the soft cushions that were holding her secure while she coped with the news. Maggie tried to take deep breaths to stay calm, but it was like she was forgetting how to inhale and exhale. Her breath was coming in ragged inhales and exhales as she tried to steady it.
Esmeralda’s twinkling laugh surrounded her. It seemed to lift her out of the cushions so that she could face her mother. Esmeralda was smiling, the shell suddenly filled with her old personality.
“Oh heavens no,” she said. “I’m not dying, but a part of me will die.”
Maggie tried to imagine what that meant. She imagined her mother losing a limb. Hopefully it would be a leg. Esmeralda already walked with a cane, so she would be used to that. A sick feeling formed in the pit of her stomach as that thought crossed her mind.
“I’m not going to have any amputations either,” Esmeralda said.
Her mother swore that she couldn’t read minds, but this was one of those times that Maggie doubted that. How else would she know exactly what Maggie was thinking?
“What I’m going to lose is my magic,” Esmeralda said. “That’s why I’m so worried. When a witch reaches a certain age, they lose their magic. I don’t know exactly when it will happen because it works sort of like getting your magic. One month, it is just gone. Thankfully, I’ll be able to sense that it is leaving. It is a slower process than getting magic.”
Maggie felt herself sinking back into the pillows with the news. Esmeralda losing her magic was almost as bad as her dying. At this point, Maggie wished it could just be a simple amputation. Esmeralda seemed to be the glue holding Grimwood Valley together. Maggie felt more like a paper clip that was struggling to hold too many papers at once so they just kept slipping out.
“Is it going to be soon?” Maggie asked.
“I think it will happen in the next few months, but not right away,” Esmeralda said. “At first, I thought it was just because of all of the stress that we’ve been under with this death problem and all. But then I realized that I am a witch of a certain age and this is probably what it feels like for the magic to start slipping away.”
Esmeralda smiled wistfully, a bit embarrassed about admitting she was anywhere close to being old.
“But aren’t witches supposed to live eternally or something like that?” Maggie asked.
“Do you see any other witches around?” Esmeralda asked.
She smirked at Maggie in a way that felt almost comforting. Her hazel eyes twinkled in jest and Maggie was filled with warmth at the sight of Esmeralda’s personality. It was just enough warmth to push out the feeling of guilt that Maggie had. Esmeralda had been carrying so many burdens for so long and it seemed as though Maggie had hardly noticed. She had been too concerned about saying hello to people at the store and what people thought of her since Maggie saw herself as a failure.
“No, witches have normal, human life spans,” Esmeralda said. “And just like all of our other senses, we lose our magical sense along with them. I think I just didn’t want to admit it at first. But now you know why I’ve been pushing you. I only did it because
I felt like I had to.”
With a snap of her fingers, Esmeralda magically filled both of their mugs up with more hot chocolate. This time, it even had whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top. Maggie climbed her way out of the cushions that had been hugging her and took it off the table. It warmed her hands and her heart as she sipped it.
“Now that I’ve broken the news to you, I think I can be more upfront about my plans,” Esmeralda said once they had both drunk their fill of the thick, sweet hot chocolate. “I need you to step up more and I’m going to keep pushing you to do that. You know I’ll always be here for you, but as your powers intensify and mine wane, you need to be the one in charge. I’ll be here for moral support, but I can’t continue to do everything.”
Maggie nodded as she stared at the dark window. She tried to focus on what her mother was saying instead of letting herself drift away in thought. This was not a time to leave on a journey of imagination. Maggie needed to ground herself and force herself to hear what her mother had to say. She snapped back to reality and turned to focus on her mother instead of the dark void outside that seemed to beckon her instead.
“I also need to start teaching you more magic,” Esmeralda was saying. “Thankfully, I can still teach you magic even when mine is gone, but I want to make sure you have some of the most useful skills down before that time comes.”
Nodding along, Maggie started to feel like one of those bobblehead dolls. As her mother talked about teaching her magic and forcing her to step up more, she just nodded. There wasn’t anything else for her to do. Maggie didn’t get to decide if she wanted to do this, it wasn’t a job interview. This was a birthright and she had to do it even though she hated it.
Suddenly, she felt her mother grab her hand. Maggie hadn't even realized that Esmeralda had moved over, but here she was lifting Maggie out of her nest of cushions. She pulled Maggie up to sit, staring into her eyes. Esmeralda’s face was passive, but her eyes were full of love. Taking both of Maggie’s hands in her own, Esmeralda held her gaze.