Catnip Cantrips (Twilight Hollow Witchy Cozy Mysteries Book 2)

by Sara Christene

  A fine trembling overtook my body. I wiped my hands on my jeans, trying to rid myself of the strange sensation. “It was the remnant of a spirit. These animals are glowing because remnants of spirits are clinging to them. I saw someone else’s memory before it faded away.”

  Sensing Martha behind me, I turned.

  She watched me with her head tilted. “I could see that spirit, but it’s gone now.”

  “Addy bridged the gap to the spirit world,” Luna said to my back. “She helped the remaining fragment move on.”

  “But where did the spirit come from in the first place?” Martha asked. “It wasn’t a ghost like me.”

  I shivered. “There are all sorts of spirits. I assumed whatever was making these animals glow was some sort of nature spirit, but it wasn’t, it was human. And human spirits only come from two places. Some are ghosts like you, and some are brought back to this realm as mere fragments of their former selves.”

  Martha seemed to think about it. “But who brings them back?”

  I turned to Luna, knowing she would’ve already reached the same conclusion.

  Our gazes locked.

  “A necromancer,” I said. “A necromancer would be needed to bring them back.”

  Luna audibly gulped. “And the necromancer would have good reason to be interested in a channeling witch.”

  I felt so lightheaded, I had to sit down. I barely managed to pull a chair out from the table, then I plopped down into it.

  Spooky, still glowing, blinked his yellow eyes at me from his perch on the tabletop. The spirit had clung to him because he was magical, and the one clinging to the rat had used it to get to me. It wasn’t the dark magic sending these animals out where they could be seen. The spirits were doing it, because they were searching for me.

  Now understanding what to do, I reached my hand out and stroked it across Spooky’s fur. I channeled the spirit into myself, getting a brief flash of memory. A cozy evening, drinking tea with faces I had never known. Then it was gone, and Spooky no longer glowed.

  Luna pulled out the chair next to mine and sat. “This is bad, Addy. A necromancer will want to use you. He probably summoned all the spirits just to test your powers, to see if you could really channel.”

  My gut clenched. “And once he sees that my familiar is no longer glowing, he’ll know that I can.”

  “You two are starting to scare me,” Martha said to my back.

  “Good,” I groaned, pressing my face into my hands. “We should all be scared.”

  My mind raced trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Had the necromancer summoned the dark magic? Or was it the other way around? Maybe after its first failed attempt to possess me, the dark magic had summoned a necromancer to do the job. But what did any of this have to do with Martha’s murder? Was it just a big coincidence that I saw the first glowing animal the day after I met her ghost?

  Too many questions, and no answers to speak of. And I needed to start baking for the cafe in a few hours.

  Was it even worth the effort? For all I knew, I was a dead witch walking.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning came far too soon. Luna left to get ready for work while I was still baking. I drained the last bit of coffee from my cup, then refilled it, hoping my tired brain hadn’t forgotten any components of my recipes.

  My phone buzzed as I was sliding the final tray of scones into the oven.

  I spotted Logan’s name on the caller ID, then answered. “Yeah?”

  “Someone got up on the wrong side of the broomstick this morning, didn’t she? I take it you didn’t have much luck with the animals?”

  I leaned against the counter. “Oh no, we had plenty of luck, and Spooky is back. I only got a few hours of sleep.”

  “Did I wake you?”

  I knelt in front of the oven to watch the scones. “Nope, I had to get up early to bake for the cafe. What’s up?”

  “Based on Martha’s suspicions, I did a little bit more research on Alex. He’s on the brink of bankruptcy.”

  My eyebrows shot up. I looked to Spooky sitting on the table, watching me like he was actually listening to my words. “So you think he killed Martha so he could sell the gallery and save himself?”

  “I’m not sure the gallery is worth enough to save him, but it’s a start. And Martha had left him her remaining holdings, minus the house going to Blake.”

  I gnawed my lip, thinking it over. “Martha hadn’t mentioned that. I’ll ask her about it. She should be floating around here somewhere.”

  “Let me know what she says. Now what happened with the animals?”

  I rolled my eyes, though he couldn’t see it. “You only just shared this information with me because you wanted me to feel obligated into being honest with you, didn’t you?”

  “Did it work, do you feel obligated?”

  I wished he could see my glare. “Come by the cafe later, I’ll tell you in person.” After I talk with my sisters and figure out how much I should tell you, I added silently.

  “I have a few things to wrap up, then I’ll see you there.”

  We said our goodbyes and hung up, then I looked back to Spooky. “I hope you know you’re coming to work with me today on a leash.”

  He narrowed his yellow eyes.

  “No arguing,” I lectured, then looked down to the rat still in the cage. “We can drop you off on the way.”

  He blinked his little black eyes. I was pretty sure he was just a normal rat again.

  Martha popped up right beside me. “And then we can go see Blake.”

  I raised a hand to my pounding heart. “Geez, don’t just pop up like that. Why do you want to go see Blake? And where have you been?”

  She floated over to examine my packaged up muffins on the opposite counter. “I was following the detective, I heard his end of the conversation. I had completely forgotten the specifics of my will, I had it drawn up so long ago. I never told Alex that I left everything to him. But Blake did know he was getting the house. It had belonged to both me and his mother, so I promised I would leave it to him.”

  I watched her back, unable to see her face even though she was transparent. Ghosts were weird like that, you could see through them, but you couldn’t just see through the back to the front. “I thought you were so sure it was Alex who killed you.”

  Her shoulders slumped as she hung her head. “I was worked up after I found the contract, but I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. I just can’t imagine him doing this to me.”

  “But you could imagine your nephew doing it?”

  She disappeared, then reappeared facing me. She really was getting the hang of this ghost thing. “Blake and I were never terribly close, and he lost his mother a long time ago. I can’t be sure he wouldn’t do this if he was desperate enough. The house is worth a lot.”

  My timer beeped for the scones, and I turned and took them out of the oven. “All right, Blake’s pawnshop is on the way. It might not be open this early, but he does often come in for a cup of coffee.” And to flirt mercilessly. I had only ever talked him up to get information about Neil Howard’s murder, but apparently it had been enough encouragement for him to start visiting the cafe.

  This seemed to appease Martha, and I left the scones to cool while I went upstairs and got dressed.

  Given the sudden chill, I opted for a white fisherman’s sweater that was just formfitting enough to be worn beneath my down coat. I added dark-wash jeans, waterproof boots, pulled my curls into a braid, and I was good to go.

  By the time I had packed up the baked goods, the cat, and the rat into my car it was 6:45. I’d have to be quick dropping off the rat if I was going to make it to open the cafe in time.

  With Spooky sitting in the passenger seat, the rejected collar and leash I had purchased when I first found him sitting forlornly on the floorboard, I started the engine and blasted the heat.

  The cat peered contentedly at the rat in its trap in the back seat, as if we hadn’t
just had a horrible non-verbal argument over him wearing the collar and leash.

  We made the short drive to the edge of the neighborhood, then I quickly got out and grabbed the rat. I shut the door, trapping Spooky inside the car. This was one argument I wasn’t losing. I wasn’t about to have him run off after another glowing animal.

  Because there were more animals with spirits clinging to them out in the trees. I could feel them as I walked with the trap under one arm. I found myself wishing Martha had remained with me rather than going to watch Logan again. She might be able to sense something out here I couldn’t.

  By the time I reached the trees, I was glad I had worn the waterproof boots. The slowly melting frost on the grass left beads of moisture behind.

  I held the trap out in front of me and looked down at the rat. “I hope you’ll be all right in the cold. Try not to run into any necromancers.”

  I shivered at the thought, then knelt down and released the rat from his trap. He scurried off into the underbrush, and I stood, holding the trap in one hand while rubbing the goosebumps beneath my coat with the other.

  Under the light of day, the feeling of spirits in the woods was fainter, but it was definitely still there, and it called to me. Maybe that was the necromancer’s plan. Use the lure of spirits needing to be sent back to draw the channeling witch out alone into the woods.

  With another shiver, I turned and hurried back toward the car, running by the time I drew close to it. I wouldn’t be going out alone into the woods any time soon. It felt like there were eyes on me my entire retreat.

  I hopped into the car and threw the trap in the back.

  Stupid, a voice chided in my mind.

  I turned wide eyes to Spooky, who was staring at me from the passenger seat. “Did you say something?”

  When all I got was a continued stare in reply, I shook my head and started the car. It was only a few minutes to seven. Even if Blake was open early, I would have to talk to him later.

  The drive to the cafe only took a few minutes, and maybe I had willed Blake to visit, because he was waiting right outside the front door along with Elmer and Francis.

  I parked on the street and opened my car door, then cursed when Spooky leapt out before I could stop him, making it clear the collar and leash were a lost cause. I got out and greeted my three customers, then unlocked the door for them.

  Blake held it open for Elmer and Francis, then I stopped him with a hand on his arm before he could follow them in. “Do you think you could help me carry a few trays of muffins?” I mustered a charming smile, though I wasn’t really a fan of his advances.

  He pushed his shaggy blonde hair away from his face and grinned. “Of course, little lady.”

  It was good Blake couldn’t read minds, or he would’ve run away at my thoughts over being called a little lady. Unfortunately, I couldn’t read minds either, so it would take a little bit of charm and an extra large magic coffee to find out anything he might know about his aunt’s death.

  All in a day’s work for a channeling, mystery solving witch.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Blake slid the last tray of muffins onto the countertop. “You baked all this today?” he asked, watching me on the other side of the counter as I arranged cookies in the glass display case.

  I nodded, focused on my task.

  “What, did you wake up at two in the morning?”

  “Five,” I muttered, giving the white chocolate macadamia nut cookies center placement. “As long as I time things right and I’m always mixing up the next batch while the last one is baking, I can get it all done.” I cast a quick glance around for Spooky, noticing him licking his paw on top of one of the bookshelves.

  Finished with the cookies, I reached for the last tray of muffins. They would stay hidden behind the counter until room was freed up in the case.

  Blake drummed his fingers on the counter. Despite his profession, he had rough working man’s hands with faint unscrubbable dirt under the nails. Maybe from the camping and fishing he did in his free time.

  “Did you want a coffee?” I asked to fill the awkward silence. “It’s on the house for helping me.”

  Elmer and Francis both pretended not to watch us from their table near the door. I had made their coffees first thing so they wouldn’t have to wait.

  “A coffee would be great.” Blake winked.

  I forced a smile, preparing myself to flirt. It wasn’t that Blake was an unattractive man. His hair was a nice shade of blonde, and he was fit from hiking. He was five or six years older than me, not too huge of an age gap once you were in your thirties. He owned his own business . . . but he was just too . . . Blake. He was like the cheesy uncle that cornered you and told bad jokes at holiday gatherings.

  I kept a muted version of my smile in place while I fixed his coffee in a to-go cup, then slid it across the counter. “I was sorry to hear about your aunt, by the way.”

  I hoped it wouldn’t be taken as odd that I knew the information. Her death had been on the local news, and a few people around town seemed to know she was his aunt. Word traveled fast.

  Fortunately, he didn’t seem to question it. “We weren’t close. Once my mom, her sister, passed away, we didn’t really keep in touch other than the occasional holiday visit.” He took his coffee and stepped back.

  Oh no you don’t, I thought. You’re not getting out of here that fast. “I heard you were one of her only remaining blood relatives.”

  He laughed, moving a little closer to the counter again. “People sure do talk in this town, don’t they? But yeah, I don’t come from a big family. It’s worked out in my favor though. My aunt left me her portion of the house she shared with my mom. It’s worth a decent amount of cash.” He leaned one hand on the counter while holding his coffee with the other.

  It was clear he expected me to be impressed he had inherited some wealth.

  “Well that is fortunate,” I said with a smile. “What happened to the rest of her holdings? Did she leave them to a friend?”

  He snorted. “Her best friend Cheryl would’ve loved to have some cash, I’m sure, but it all went to my aunt’s ex-husband.”

  I furrowed my brow. Why would Cheryl need cash? “Has her friend fallen on hard times?”

  He shrugged his bony shoulders. “She’s been trying to pawn stuff at my shop for the past couple months, so I assume so. I had to send her to Wickenburg for most of it, not a big market for old paintings in Twilight Hollow. I wouldn’t even know how to value them.”

  “Old paintings?” I blurted.

  He narrowed an eye, and I worried I’d gone too far. “You like art then?”

  I heaved a subtle sigh of relief. “Yes, I like art. What kind of paintings were they?”

  He shrugged again. “Landscapes, portraits, you name it. Even some of that stuff that looks like a toddler painted it. If you like art, you should go check out my departed aunt’s gallery. It’s over in Wickenburg.”

  “I just might do that,” I smiled.

  “We could always go together.”

  My smile faltered, and I quickly turned and started making myself a coffee to hide it. “I’ll have to get back to you on that. As you can see, I’m pretty busy with baking and running the cafe.” I gestured with one hand to the display case.

  “Well you just let me know. Maybe it’s time to hire some help.”

  I glanced back at him. “You know, people keep telling me that.”

  The bell on the door rang as a trio of older ladies stepped inside, their cheeks flushed from the cold.

  Blake seemed to take this as his cue to leave. He gestured with his coffee cup in my direction. “Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around.”

  I waved as he walked off, then moved toward the register to meet my new customers. The smile I gave them was genuine, not only because I was grateful to all my customers, but because I had learned something important from Blake. Many somethings. First off, Cheryl was broke. Second, she had been trying to s
ell paintings, which was a bit odd given her best friend owned a gallery. Wouldn’t she have just sold the paintings to Martha?

  And third, Blake was pretty excited about the cash he was going to get from selling Martha’s house. It was a motive, and it was well known that he was an outdoorsman. He might have been able to follow Martha on her hike without her noticing.

  Just as I finished taking the ladies’ orders and they went to sit down, Logan walked into the cafe.

  I gave him a smug smile as he walked toward the register.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s that look for?”

  I grinned as I started the shots of espresso for the ladies’ lattes. “Oh, I just discovered plenty of clues that you probably missed.”

  “Well that explains me seeing Blake Monroe walking down the street with a cup of coffee and a huge grin.” He leaned forward over the counter and lowered his voice. “You know it’s not fair when you use your womanly wiles on my suspects.”

  I braced my elbows on the counter, mirroring his position. “Well then you ought to get better at questioning them.”

  I sensed eyes boring into my skull, and glanced to see Francis watching me over her coffee cup, a devilish grin taking up half her face.

  I rolled my eyes at her. Sometimes I wondered if I stayed single just to spite Francis. She probably wondered the same.

  Logan followed my gaze, helping him realize we had an audience. “Can we go into your office?”

  I turned to start steaming the milk. “I didn’t expect you to get here so quickly, you’re going to have to wait until after the morning rush.”

  As if to emphasize my point, a college-aged couple walked through the front door.

  “I’ll wait,” Logan said, stepping away from the counter to make room. “Can I get a coffee when you have a chance?”

  I gave him a little salute, then turned to greet my next customers. Everything was a blur from there on out. By the time I made the last beverage, the display case was half empty and all the tables were filled.