No Cat Is An Island: A Cozy Cat and Witch Mystery (Cozy Conundrums Book 2)
Page 13
“Like the future is the past stuff,” said Val.
“In reverse, yes,” I said. “You see, Brown had killed their father all those years ago. And now the twins – the daughters – wanted to avenge him. So they killed Anita Brown first.”
“I still don’t understand that,” said Val. “Why not kill him immediately?”
“Their point, I believe,” I said, “was to make Brown feel the same pain that they had felt. Of losing family.”
“How horrible,” said Val.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“So what’s going to happen to the committee now?” asked Val.
“Oh, please,” said Barry dismissively. “They’re doomed anyway.”
“Not from what I’ve heard,” I said, smiling. “Patrick’s promised to put in some considerable funds. On the proviso that the committee must be reformed.”
“That was very generous of him,” said Val. “I bet Mrs. Highgarden didn’t like that, though.”
“No, but she needed the money,” I said.
“Don’t we all?” said Barry, yawning.
There was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” I said.
It was Mrs. Faversham. She bustled in, smiling warmly at all of us. She gave Barry a little pat on the head and proceeded to place an assortment of letters on the mantelpiece.
“Here you are,” she said. “It’s been piling up a little. I hope there wasn’t anything too urgent in there.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Faversham,” I said. “I’m sure there won’t be anything too urgent.”
Taking some plates with her on her way out, she gently closed the door again. Once Mrs. Faversham’s was safely out of earshot again, Val turned to me.
“Better not open any strange letters again, Amy,” she said. “That led us on a bad path last time.”
“Yes,” said Barry sniffily, jumping onto the table. “No more ‘holidays’, please.”
“You’re telling me,” I said, thinking back to the endless sessions of pointless meetings. “But I’m sure it’s not going to end that way again.”
But my curiosity was getting the better of me. I got up and crossed over to the mantelpiece, taking the pile of letters and plonking them on the table for Barry and Val to see. Most of them were bills, but a purple letter struck my eye immediately.
“Hello, what’s this?”
“What?” both Val and Barry asked at the same time.
“Look, it’s addressed to Barry,” I said. “To the Right Honourable Earl of Barrington.”
I passed it along to Barry, who dashed to one of the sideboards for his reading glasses and back again. Once he had perched himself back on the table, he slit the letter open with one of his claws and unfolded the paper. It was thick and looked heavy, like parchment. Barry quickly scanned the first few lines.
“Who’s it from?” I asked.
“It’s from Warklesby’s,” he said.
“Bless you,” said Val.
I had no idea what it was myself. Faced by such ignorance, Barry sighed ostentatiously.
“It’s the only school of magic in the country,” said Barry irritably. “By their own account, it seems they’re having a spot of trouble with some of their students. Pupils have gone missing and members of the staff are being blackmailed. They’re afraid it might not stop at that, either, if they can’t find out who is behind it all.”
“That sounds awful,” said Val. “But what do they want from you exactly?”
“They want me – well, us specifically,” he said, checking the letter again, “ – to investigate the case. Undercover, as it were.”
“Seems we’re making a name for ourselves as investigators already,” said Val, beaming. “What do you think, Amy?”
“Well, I don’t know,” I said, grinning. “We’ve sort of always slipped into things. Why break the pattern?”
“Can’t hurt to know what we’re getting into for a change,” said Val. “What do you think, Barry?”
“Certainly not,” he said. “I’ve got my research to take care of. I can’t go gallivanting across the countryside, looking for blackmailers. Anyway, the place is crawling with know-it-all warlocks and perfect witches. Warklesby’s is insufferable.”
“No cat is an island, Barry,” I said. “Not even you. Perhaps some more contact with the spellcasting community will do you some good. Val, what do you think?”
“A school for witches and warlocks, are you kidding me?” Val said. “Of course I’m game.”
“Excellent,” I said. “May I see the letter, Barry?”
“What?” he said. “Oh, yes, yes, if you must.”
I scanned it briefly. The first two pages were mostly accounts of the strange occurrences at Warklesby’s. The last page outlined the proposed mode of smuggling us into the school without arousing too much suspicion.
“Did you read this last bit, Barry?” I said. “They want to give a you a position as a guest lecturer.”
“Let me see that,” he said immediately, clawing at the page.
He quickly went over it, then took off his spectacles and looked at us in what he considered to be a matter-of-fact voice.
“I suppose, under the circumstances,” he said, “I mean, the school does seem to be in quite a spot. Who would we be to deny them?”
Both Val and I burst out laughing.
“Well, that shouldn’t be too much out of character for you, Barry,” I said, winking at Val. “And what could we go as?”
“You could have the pleasure of being my research assistants,” he said solemnly.
“Great,” said Val. “Another boost to Barry’s ego.”
“Recognition of my true talents, you mean?” said Barry haughtily.
“Yes,” I said, grinning. “One thing’s for certain already. We’ll never hear the end of that one.”
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading No Cat Is An Island. If you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it, you can be the first to know about new releases and bonus content by joining the mailing list (also known as Barry’s fan club – but don’t tell him that).
The third book in the Cozy Conundrums series, Copycat Murders, is available on Amazon.
If you’d like to spread the word, reviews on Amazon and Goodreads are a great way of supporting the series. A quick note that you liked it really goes a long way and is deeply appreciated.
I’ll hopefully see you in the next adventure!
Yours truly,
T.H. Hunter