Witches' Cat: Witch Cozy Mystery (Witches and Wine Book 7)

by Morgana Best

  “Observe Jezabeth carefully,” Aunt Agnes said to me. “She could be an innocent person, but she could be the murderer or she could be working for The Other. Maybe she is the murderer and working for The Other.”

  “What exactly am I looking for?”

  Aunt Agnes shrugged. “Just keep an eye on her and see if anything occurs to you. Now, where’s that cat? I should put her in the secret room with you.”

  “Please don’t,” I said.

  Before Agnes could answer, a cat landed on the floor next to me. “Thanks for nothing!” I called after Aunt Agnes’ departing back.

  The cat once morphed into a woman, a naked woman.

  A bathrobe flew into the secret room and then I heard the door lock. “Thanks. I mean it sincerely this time,” I called after Aunt Agnes, but I knew she wouldn’t hear me. The secret room was soundproofed, although sound fed inside it via a sound system from the living room.

  “Hi, Breena,” I said.

  She looked startled that I spoke to her. Although she was spending more time in human form, she had not abandoned all of her cat ways. She sat on the ground and licked her hand and then rubbed it over her head. I shrugged and looked through the two-way mirror.

  Aunt Dorothy was sitting in the room, looking quite put out. I was already bored and wished I’d brought in some snacks. I tried the door, but sadly Aunt Agnes had locked me in.

  I wasn’t bored for long. Jezabeth and Aunt Maude walked into the room. Aunt Maude manoeuvred it so Jezabeth sat facing me. I thought it a clever move, because I would be able to see her expression. There was still no sign of the lawyer. As I was silently lamenting that fact, Aunt Agnes walked in with a man. I couldn’t guess his age, but he had thick black hair. He shook Jezabeth’s hand and then Maude’s hand and I smiled when Dorothy limply offered him her hand.

  I turned up the volume so I could hear what they were saying clearly.

  “I have the original will here,” the man said. “I suggest you make several copies. Have any of you been executors before?”

  I saw them all shake their heads, although I wondered if that were true.

  “When you apply for probate, you will need to submit the original will. However, you might need certified copies of the will for various services like phone, electricity, Internet, and so on. Those places usually only need a certified copy of the death certificate, but you won’t have to give the original death certificate to anyone.”

  “Where do I get a copy of the death certificate from?” Jezabeth asked him.

  “It will be sent to you in the mail. You will arrange that with the funeral director,” he said. “Have you selected a funeral director yet?”

  Jezabeth looked quite put out. “No,” was all she said.

  “Then a funeral director will arrange the death certificate for you,” he said. “It can take two to three weeks to be posted to your house.”

  He stood up and handed some papers to Agnes. “This is the original will.”

  “Shouldn’t I have that?” asked Jezabeth.

  The lawyer sat back down. “I’m afraid not. There are only three executors of the will, Agnes Jasper, Maude Jasper, and Dorothy Jasper. I’m afraid you’re not an executor.”

  I wondered if Jezabeth would explode. Her face grew whiter and whiter. She gripped both arms of the antique grandfather chair in which she was sitting. “Why not?” she demanded in an icy tone.

  “The will doesn’t specify,” he said. “Now, as for the contents of the will, you are a beneficiary. The beneficiaries are the Jasper sisters, you, your daughter, and Euphemia’s great niece, Belladonna Shadowsoul.”

  Jezabeth stood up. “Belladonna,” she spat. “I haven’t seen her in years. Do you have an address for her?”

  The lawyer shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “Then can she get anything if you don’t have an address for her?” Jezabeth snapped.

  “Yes, it’s still legally hers. The fact you don’t know where she is has no relevance,” the lawyer said patiently. He gestured to the papers. “As you can see for yourselves, the terms of the will state that you and the Jasper sisters have an equal share of all the antiques and of Euphemia’s jewellery and house contents, but her house at Lighthouse Bay is to be sold. You and Belladonna are each to receive twenty percent of the sale proceeds of the house. The remaining sixty percent is to be deposited in an offshore account.”

  Once more, Jezabeth jumped to her feet. “An offshore account! What kind of hocus-pocus is this?”

  The lawyer held up one hand, palm outwards. “I’m just the messenger, so to speak. Your mother didn’t discuss any terms with me.”

  “What about the money in her bank?” Jezabeth asked.

  “Your daughter, Hemlock, receives one hundred and twenty thousand pounds. The remainder of the money in your mother’s bank account is to be deposited into the same offshore account,” the lawyer said. “Of course, you can withdraw money from that for the funeral. That’s permissible under the terms. The executors can simply make an application to the bank to cover the funeral expenses and the burial plot.”

  “But what about her house at Nelson Bay?” Jezabeth asked. “Who gets that?”

  The lawyer looked surprised. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you didn’t know. Your mother has already sold it.”

  “Who gets that money?” Even from where I was looking through a two-way mirror, I could see Jezabeth had turned as white as a ghost. Her eyes were bloodshot and veins had popped up on her face.

  “I assume that the monies were deposited into your mother’s bank account. At any rate, your mother gave instructions for me to transfer the balance of her bank account into an offshore account upon her death,” he said.

  “Could I offer you a cup of tea or coffee?” Aunt Agnes asked him. “It was awfully good of you to come out here in consideration for my sister’s health.”

  Right on cue, Dorothy bent over and went into a series of hacking coughs. It seemed a case of overacting to me and Aunt Agnes must’ve thought so too, because she walked over and slapped her hard on the back.

  “A cup of coffee would be nice, please,” the lawyer said when Dorothy stopped coughing.

  “I’ll have wine,” Jezabeth said. If the lawyer thought it strange that she would drink wine that early in the morning, he didn’t show it. And, of course, he didn’t realise it was witches’ brew, not ordinary wine.

  Agnes nodded. “Maude will help me. Come on, Maude.”

  The two of them left the room and Dorothy pretended to fall asleep. She leant back, her eyes shut, and snored gently. It was all I could do not to burst into a fit of giggles at her fake snores, although they did sound pretty good.

  I figured the aunts had left to see if there would be any interaction between Jezabeth and the lawyer.

  “Are you sure that’s the latest will?” Jezabeth asked him as soon as Agnes and Maude had left the room.

  “Yes, certainly,” he said.

  “And what about my daughter, Hemlock? Surely, my mother left her something else in the will? Poor Hemlock is too sensitive to get a job, so she needs money, a lot of money. She has expensive tastes, you see. I’m afraid I’ve had to cut her off, so she needs to get money from somewhere.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, there are no terms other than what I have mentioned.”

  Jezabeth simply glared at him. Breena was now standing up, looking through the two-way mirror with me. Just as I was thinking she was beginning to act like a person, she hissed at Jezabeth.

  “I don’t much like her either,” I said to Breena. “She seems as bad as her mother.”

  The lawyer and Jezabeth didn’t speak again until the aunts came back into the room.

  After the lawyer finished his coffee, he gave the aunts some papers to sign. From what I understood, they were statements to verify they had received the original will.

  Jezabeth tried one more time. “You’re sure it was the latest will?” Before the lawyer
could respond, she added, “And are you sure nothing else was left for my daughter, Hemlock?”

  When the lawyer shook his head, she added, “That’s just not right. My mother loved my daughter. She promised her that she would leave her a substantial amount in the will. In fact, every time my daughter asked her what she was being left in the will, my mother told her that she would do very well out of it.”

  “Hemlock sounds just as bad as her mother and grandmother,” I said to Breena.

  Breena hissed in response.

  Chapter 6

  “Seriously, her daughter’s name is Hemlock?” I asked Aunt Agnes. “Who on earth would call a child Hemlock? It’s a poisonous plant.”

  “So is Belladonna,” Aunt Agnes said, “and I hear Hemlock herself is very fond of plants.” She made a smoking motion.

  It took me a while to catch on. “Oh, I see. She’s a stoner.”

  Aunt Dorothy looked up. “A stoner? What’s that?”

  “Keep up with the modern times, Dorothy,” Aunt Agatha scolded her. “A stoner is someone who smokes a lot of weed.”

  Aunt Dorothy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Who would smoke weeds? Oh! I see.” She nodded slowly.

  “Is this Hemlock woman going to turn up anytime soon?” I asked, throwing up my hands to the ceiling.

  “I hope not,” Aunt Agnes said, “but I doubt it. Last I heard, she lives in Adelaide. Now, we must prepare for our dinner tonight with Jezabeth. We can’t trust her, you know, as she’s a vampire and also a witch, just like her mother.”

  “Am I the only one here who finds it suspicious that she didn’t come to dinner last night when she was invited?” I asked. “And will Linda be safe having dinner with her?”

  Aunt Agnes shook her head. “I really don’t like Linda having dinner with a vampire such as Jezabeth, who could well be working for The Other. After all, The Other wants to wipe out all shifters.”

  Breena let out a plaintiff meow.

  Aunt Agnes shook her finger at her. “You can’t let her know you’re a shifter, Breena. It would be awfully dangerous. You either stay in your human form and we’ll have to make up some excuse about you, or you remain as a cat. Really, you will have to make your choice now and stay that way while Jezabeth is here.”

  Breena was currently in human form, so she simply nodded. To my surprise, she said, “Human. Not cat.”

  Agnes shot her a look of approval. “Okay then, we will have to come up with your cover story. What could it be?”

  “We told the police she was our niece from France,” Dorothy said.

  Aunt Agnes paused from stacking the dishwasher. “That won’t do at all. Jezabeth will know at once that she’s not our niece from France. We will have to say she’s one of the boarders.” She clapped her hands. “That’s it! We’ll say she is one of the boarders and that she’s French and doesn’t speak much English.”

  “But what if Jezabeth speaks French?” I asked. “And if we tell her that Breena’s one of the boarders, how will we explain why she’s staying in the house and not in a cottage?’

  Aunt Agnes slammed the dishwasher door shut and clutched her head with both hands. “Of course! Oh dear, what will we do?”

  Maude cleared her throat. “Look, Jezabeth doesn’t seem one for conversation, and she couldn’t care less about anyone but herself. Why don’t we tell Breena to respond with short, one-word answers and not to get drawn into any conversation? The rest of us can help deflect.”

  “I’m sure that could work,” Aunt Agnes said, although her tone suggested otherwise.

  “And Linda can help us,” I said. “I explained everything to her when I called to tell her Euphemia Jones had died.”

  Aunt Agnes almost dropped the jar of Vegemite. “What? It wasn’t all over town already?”

  “If it was, it hadn’t reached Linda,” I said.

  “But what excuse will we give for Linda’s presence tonight?” Maude asked.

  “The truth, of course,” I said. “We’ll say she’s a friend of mine, because she is.”

  “I need a strong glass of witches’ brew,” Aunt Agnes said, holding her the back of her hand across her forehead in a melodramatic fashion. “I’m sure this dinner is going to be the most complete disaster.”

  “It won’t be as bad as tomorrow,” Maude pointed out. “Tomorrow we have to go to Euphemia’s house and see what kind of state it’s in, and sort through all her stuff and then get it ready for sale.”

  “Maybe you could have Linda as the selling agent.”

  Aunt Agnes turned to me. “Does she have her real estate licence yet?”

  I nodded and then shook my head. “She has the type of licence she needs to work for somebody else,” I told her. “She’s just started working for one of the real estate firms in town.”

  Thankfully, I didn’t see Jezabeth for the rest of the day. I did see her hire car leave the manor. She was away for several hours and I wondered what she could possibly be doing. I spent the day in the office catching up on long-overdue paperwork. I had intended to do some more painting in The Witcher cottage, but the day was cold and drizzly, and I didn’t think the paint would dry too well.

  Later that afternoon, I helped the aunts prepare dinner. It was to be held in the formal dining room. “We’ll need to increase the protection around the room, what with that evil wench here,” Aunt Maude said.

  “What are those you holding?” I asked.

  The three aunts gasped in unison.

  “You don’t know what these are?” Aunt Maude said, holding them out for me to inspect. “Honestly, Valkyrie, your education is sadly lacking. I thought we would have shown you what these are. They’re rusty railroad spikes.”

  I stared at them. “Oh yes, so they are. I thought you had some at the boundaries of the property?”

  The aunts nodded solemnly. “Yes, we do,” Aunt Maude said, “but we’re going to put them around the dining room too. We can’t be too careful, not with Jezabeth here.”

  “What other protective measures are we going to take?” I asked her.

  “Well, after she leaves, we’re going to wipe everything she touched, the table, and the chair in which she sits, with Florida Water to cleanse it,” Aunt Dorothy said, “and we will mop the floors with lemongrass.”

  “Valkyrie asked about preventative measures,” Aunt Agnes said.

  Dorothy appeared unperturbed. “Sure. We’ll be burning Fiery Wall of Protection incense,” she said, pointing to a charcoal disc in a cauldron in the corner of the room. I knew Fiery Wall of Protection incense consisted of frankincense and myrrh, as well as the Indonesian red tree resin known as Dragon’s Blood.

  Aunt Agnes nodded. “And we’ll do the usual, like having eucalyptus leaves in our shoes and wearing evil eye bracelets on our left wrists.” She tapped herself on the head. “Oh, I almost forgot. We have to bring in more of our tourmaline, black agate, and labradorite crystals and place them around the room. The more, the merrier. Valkyrie, can you help me in here with our big painting of Saint Michael?”

  I followed her out of the room and into the magnificent entry hall. Hanging on the wood panelling next to an imposing bronze statue of a woman in Grecian drapes was a large painting of Saint Michael in a huge gilded frame. A ladder was already standing under it. Aunt Agnes shimmied up the ladder. “Help me, would you, Valkyrie? It’s heavy.”

  Somehow, the two of us managed to lower the painting to the parquetry floor unscathed. The frame indeed was very heavy. We struggled with the painting to the living room. “Can’t we leave it on the floor?” I said hopefully.

  Aunt Agnes shook her head vigorously. “No, it needs to hang directly opposite Jezabeth. Saint Michael is very protective. He’s been used in many traditions, including Hoodoo, for protection. Valkyrie, would you be a dear and bring that ladder in here for me?”

  I sighed and walked back to the foyer. I picked up the stepladder and brought it back to the dining room where I set it up again. “You go up the ladder thi
s time, Valkyrie,” said Aunt Agnes. “I will lift the painting up to you.”

  More than ever, I wished Lucas were here. The big, bulky painting was difficult to manoeuvre onto the hooks, but finally I managed. The aunts stood back and directed me to adjust it several times until it was straight.

  Aunt Agnes handed me a Saint Michael medallion. “Keep this in your pocket at all times,” she said.

  “If Jezabeth poisoned her mother, do you think she’ll try to poison us?” I asked them.

  I expected the aunts to make fun of my suggestion, but they all nodded solemnly. “It is quite possible,” Aunt Agnes said in agreement. “Don’t take your eyes off your food at any time in case she slips something into it, and if she brings any wine, we’ll pour it into her glass first and make sure she finishes it.”

  I was beginning to think it wasn’t safe for Linda to come, after all, but with her new job as a real estate agent keeping her busy, I hadn’t had a chance to catch up with her lately. Besides, she was a shifter wolf and so she was cunning. I felt certain she would be safe.

  “Well, we can’t have any tomatoes tonight, what with Euphemia squashing them all,” Dorothy said as she inspected the vegetable garden.

  I had walked over to my cottage to dress for dinner and then returned. I wanted to be there early. And it was just as well I was, because the front door bell rang as soon as Dorothy and I walked back inside the manor.

  Aunt Agnes looked at the time on her phone. “If that’s Jezabeth, she’s early. Well, no matter, we can have drinks in the living room. Remember, don’t leave your food or drink unattended around her in case she poisons it. I’m sure she’d have no motive to do so, but we can’t be too careful.”

  We all followed Agnes to the front door. Indeed, Jezabeth was standing on the porch. She thrust a box of chocolates at Agnes. “Thanks for inviting me,” she said in clipped tones.