Stuck in the Middle Witch You (A Middle Witch Mystery Book 1)

by Danielle Finch

  Chapter 18

  I made a U-turn and we headed back toward town.

  “You’re actually okay with this?” I asked Raine.

  “Talking to Lydia? Sure. Better us telling her than Dennis. He’d be slapping her on the back telling her to cheer up, there’s other fish in the sea, or something just as lame.”

  “No, I mean, the ghost. There’s a ghost in our house.”

  “Oh, that. Awesome, right?” she said with a big smile on her face. “I can’t wait to talk to him.”

  I just shook my head and kept driving.

  “Hey, do you really think Grant killed Seth?” Raine asked. She swiveled in her seat to look at me.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. He’s the one person who would gain the most from Seth’s death.”

  “But you said Seth was killed before the party, so wouldn’t Grant have needed help? Someone had to drag the body into the parking lot.”

  “He could have paid someone to do it.”

  “But why bother leaving his body in the parking lot? I don’t get it.”

  “Grant might have been trying to frame someone. Maybe the plan was to have the killer dump Seth’s body, wait for whoever was supposed to find it, and phone Grant as soon as he saw him.”

  “Why would he want to frame Jason?”

  “Jason wouldn’t necessarily have been the target. Maybe the killer made a mistake, and Grant had no choice but to play along and accuse Jason.”

  “But what happens when he finds out Jason’s been cleared?”

  “I don’t know, but he probably has a Plan B ready to go.”

  The Cannery Hotel is situated just past the government dock. The site used to be home to the Emerald Island Fish Cannery, but once the commercial fishing industry dried up, the cannery closed and sat empty for years. New owners purchased it, tore the building down, and built a high-end boutique hotel in its place.

  There weren’t any empty spots in front of the hotel so we had to park about a block away. Standing to the side of the entrance was a doorman whose uniform bore a vague resemblance to that of a ship’s captain.

  “Afternoon, ladies.” He dipped his head, and pulled the door open for us.

  The lobby was open and airy. Light filtered in from the huge windows flanking the front of the building. The floor was laid with the original cedar-plank siding that had covered the exterior of the old cannery. The layers of paint had been stripped off and the wood was stained a warm coffee color.

  In the center of the lobby was a fountain with a metal sculpture of three salmon leaping high into the air. The water trickled over the salmon and down into a small circular pool. Sunlight glinted off the wet metal from a domed skylight above.

  Groupings of comfortable chairs were dotted around the lobby, a few of them occupied by hotel guests chatting together quietly.

  Raine stopped to watch the water splash into the pool as I walked up to the long steel- and wood-clad counter. One clerk was helping an older couple check in while another had her back to us.

  “Excuse me,” I said.

  The clerk turned around. It was Melody Chambers—Ember’s high-school nemesis. In their senior year Melody had tried to get Matt to break up with Ember. She’d assumed her long legs, pretty face, and ample chest would be enough to attract and keep his attention. She hung around his locker and tried to flirt with him, but she obviously didn’t know Matt—he was oblivious to her tactics—and worse, she had underestimated Ember. When Ember heard what Melody was up to, she left a gift in Melody’s locker: a bag full of snakes. No magic involved. I know, because Ember had enlisted my help in collecting them the night before. Not the most pleasant task I’d ever had, but it had been worth it just to see Melody’s face when she opened her locker the next day. She had run screaming out of the school, and hadn’t returned for two days. Yeah, definitely worth it.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said with a sneer. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in jail? I heard you poisoned someone.”

  “Very funny. You know that’s not true.”

  “Whatever.” She waved her hand as if she was flicking a bug away. “You were there, someone died, you must have had something to do with it.”

  “Give it a rest, Mel,” I warned.

  “It’s Melody, not Mel.”

  “Whatever,” I said and waved my hand, imitating her.

  She rolled her eyes at my gesture. “What do you want?”

  Raine must have sensed the tension; she walked up to the counter and placed her hands on the polished wood surface. “We’re looking for a guest,” she said. “Lydia Bateman. Is she here?”

  Melody took a pen from behind the counter and lifted one of Raine’s fingers. “Please remove your skanky paws. We’d like to keep our establishment free of fleas.”

  Raine snatched her hands away. Her mouth dropped open.

  I was tempted to jump across the counter and pummel Melody, but there were too many people milling around. “You better—”

  Raine cut me off before I could finish. “Listen, Mel.” Raine said her name slowly, and put her hands back on the counter. “You and I both know who the skank is. If you want me to keep your little secret, answer the question.”

  I was shocked by the vehemence in Raine’s voice. I’d never heard her sound like this. Ember would have been proud.

  “Don’t threaten me, you little witch.” Mel tried to sound tough, but I could tell she was uneasy. Whatever it was that Raine knew, it was getting to her.

  “You need to leave, right now,” Mel whispered through gritted teeth.

  Raine ignored her and looked at me. “Did she say something about fleas, Bree?”

  I knew where she was going with this. I should have stopped her, but to hell with it—Mel had it coming. I mentally crossed my fingers and hoped Raine would get it right.

  “Why, yes, Raine, I believe she did.”

  Raine said something under her breath and then pointed at Mel’s arm. “You might want to get some flea powder.”

  Mel looked down at her arm and saw the flea on it. Well, not a real flea—just the illusion of one. She shrieked and frantically brushed at her arm.

  The people in the lobby all turned and stared. The clerk who had been dealing with the older couple came over to Mel and whispered in her ear. Mel’s face turned red. The clerk walked back to the elderly couple and apologized for the commotion.

  Raine and I looked at each other and smiled. Raine shouldn’t have done it, but Mel deserved it.

  “Lydia Bateman, if you please,” Raine said in a cheery voice.

  Mel glared at her and snatched up the phone. She dialed a number, held the phone to her ear for a moment, and then slammed it down.

  “She’s not in her room. And I can’t give out her room number, so don’t ask.” She smoothed her hair down and straightened her uniform vest, trying to compose herself. “Now, please remove yourself from the premises—or do I have to tell Mr. Bateman you’re trying to harass his sister? I’m sure he would have something to say about that.”

  “Fine,” I said sweetly, “but if you see her, please let her know we’re looking for her.”

  As we walked away, Raine turned around. “Hey, Mel, I think the pet store has flea powder on sale.” Then she grabbed my arm and we half-ran to the door.

  Outside, I couldn’t stop laughing. “Did you see her face? That was great.”

  “Why, thank you,” Raine said, and did a little bow.

  “But you—”

  “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have done it, but she so deserved it.”

  “She did,” I agreed, and then I narrowed my eyes. “You’re getting really good at illusion spells.”

  “I’ve been practicing,” she admitted. “Please don’t tell Gigi.”

  She looked so happy, and I didn’t want to spoil it by lecturing her about casting spells in public, so instead I asked what the secret was that she knew about Melody.

  “You remember the Farm to Table Dinner last su
mmer?”

  I nodded. It was a yearly event held in August. It had originally begun as a way for local farmers and food producers to thank the businesses that sold their products, but eventually it had morphed into a full-fledged, sit-down dinner. The town closed down Main Street and set up tables end-to-end in the middle of the street. We didn’t put out any food, but we made Aura available as a prep and serving station along with a couple of other restaurants on Main Street. As the event grew in popularity and more tables and chairs were needed, the town council started selling tickets. It’s now the go-to event of the year.

  “Well,” Raine continued, “when I was helping with the clean-up after the dinner, I was taking a breather on the back deck of Aura, and I could see a couple down on the beach. It was dark, but it was obvious what they were doing.”

  “How did you know it was Mel?”

  “I didn’t at first, not until she laughed.”

  Mel had a distinctive and incredibly annoying high-pitched giggle. She seemed to think it was adorable. It wasn’t.

  “And then I heard her say, ‘Rollie, oh Rollie!’” Raine imitated a breathy voice.

  I gasped. “Rollie Morton?”

  “Yup, one of our esteemed town councilmen.”

  “Ick.”

  “Exactly.”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder as we started walking toward the car. I turned to see Lonnie Maynard, Emerald Island’s one and only taxi driver.

  “Hi, Lonnie, how are you?”

  “Just fine, just fine.” He had a habit of repeating himself.

  “That’s good,” I said, and waited.

  He seemed to be in no hurry. I noticed he was wearing a tie today, and his wild Einstein-esque hair was tucked under a ball cap that read Maynard’s Taxi Co.

  “How’s your grandmother?”

  “She’s fine. Gearing up for camping season,” I answered.

  “Good, good. A fine woman, your grandmother, fine woman.” Lonnie and Gigi had known each since they were children. They had gone to school together, and there was an old rumor that Gigi and Lonnie had been romantically involved at one time. Gigi laughed any time she heard that, but she wouldn’t confirm or deny the rumor.

  I waited a few more seconds and finally asked if we could help him with something.

  “No, no, I don’t need any help.” He rocked back and forth, heel to toe.

  “Is there something you’d like to tell us, Lonnie?” Raine prompted.

  “Well now, yes, yes. I do have something you might be interested in.” More rocking.

  I didn’t want to be rude, but I wanted to get going and find Lydia. “What do you want to tell us?”

  “I heard you in there,” he said, jutting his thumb over his shoulder at the hotel. “Looking for that lady?”

  “Lydia Bateman? Yes, we’re looking for her.” Now we were getting somewhere.

  “Nice lady. Nasty business she’s going through, nasty business.”

  “Yes, it’s terrible,” I said. “Did you see her today?”

  “Took her for a ride not too long ago.”

  I could see light at the end of the tunnel. “Where did you take her?”

  “Breakers Beach.”

  Lydia had gone to Seth’s cottage. I looked at Raine.

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  “Thanks, Lonnie.” I gave him a hug.

  “Glad to help,” he said, and turned to go back inside the hotel. “Glad to help.”

  We had barely gone two steps when I heard a familiar voice.

  “That’s her. She’s the one who got Seth killed.”

  Chapter 19

  Raine and I turned around. Grant Bateman stood on the sidewalk, hands on his hips; his girlfriend Koral stood next to him, her arm linked through his. The doorman held the door as the rest of Grant’s entourage filed out and gathered behind him. The business suits were gone; everyone was dressed in casual clothes. They must have just gotten back from their golf game.

  “What are you doing here?” Grant demanded. “Haven’t you two caused enough trouble? Now you have to go and torment a hotel clerk.”

  That didn’t take Melody long, but I wasn’t surprised. Flirting, gossiping, and whining were probably the top three skills on her resumé.

  “I understand you’re upset, Mr. Bateman,” I said, “and we’re very sorry for your loss, but my sister had nothing to do with your brother’s death.” I took Raine by the arm, ready to lead her away, but before we could take a step, Grant spoke again.

  “What about you, blondie? Not sorry?” His directed his question at Raine.

  “Of course I am,” Raine said, “very sorry, but it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Bull! You’re just as guilty as your slimy little boyfriend, and you should be in jail with him.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend, and he didn’t—”

  “Don’t try and defend him. I know he did it, and I know it’s your fault. I heard what happened.”

  “Whatever you heard, Mr. Bateman, you heard wrong,” I interrupted. “My sister had nothing to do with it.” The temptation to tell him Jason was no longer a suspect was strong, but I knew I couldn’t risk jeopardizing Matt’s investigation, so I didn’t say anything.

  Purple splotches appeared high on his cheeks; he was clenching and unclenching his hands. He ignored me and kept his eyes on Raine.

  “If it weren’t for you, my brother would be alive. Do you realize you could have screwed up my deal?”

  Koral tugged at Grant’s sleeve. “Why don’t we go, baby? We’ve got better things to do. How about we get a drink?”

  Grant yanked his arm away. Koral’s features went slack and she shrank back into the crowd.

  “Listen, you little whore,” Grant said, and jabbed a finger in Raine’s direction. She gasped and recoiled.

  That was enough. I wasn’t going to put up with this jerk any longer. I stepped in front of Raine and looked Grant in the eye. “The devil you are and the devil you will see. With these words, so shall it be.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” He looked back at the group and snorted. “Can you believe this? She’s just as screwed up as her sister.”

  Perfect timing. While Grant’s back was turned, I pointed my finger at the ground and made a circular motion. When he turned back to face me, a dust devil had formed on the pavement between us, and it was growing. Fast.

  The whirling cloud of dust and debris rose in a column between us. With a tiny flick of my finger, I sent it toward Grant. In seconds, he was engulfed.

  “What the hell?” Grant said, batting the air in front of his face.

  The dust devil continued to swirl faster and grow wider. Specks of sand and tiny pebbles hit my face and I took a few steps back. Grant was almost invisible, and the group was getting pelted too. Cars had stopped in the street to watch.

  “Bree,” Raine whispered, “you’ve got to slow it down.”

  “I know, I’m trying.” I spun my finger in the opposite direction in an attempt to bring it under control, but it made no difference—the dust devil was on its way to becoming a tornado.

  “I can’t control it,” I said. I should have known better than to use my power in anger. The energy can turn negative.

  “I can help,” Raine said, and stepped in front of me. The wind from the dust devil whipped across her face, blowing her braid back.

  “No, don’t! You could make it worse.” Casting illusion spells was one thing; using our powers was another thing altogether. It required drawing on and controlling the energy within us. It took practice—a lot of practice—and even then you could still screw up. Ember and I had worked with our mother perfecting our powers, but she’d never had the chance to teach Raine. Gigi had been too busy running the café, so it had been left up to Ember and me to teach her. We had done our best, but we’d usually given up midway through each session because we ended up drenched.

  I reached out to grab Raine’s arm, but she stepped away from me and stood in front o
f the swirling vortex. I thought I heard her say something, but I couldn’t be sure; the wind was howling too loud. Before I could do anything, it started to rain.

  I looked up. There were a few small clouds in the distance but directly above the still-swirling cone of debris, rain was falling. As it fell harder, the dust devil lost its shape and disappeared. And then the rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

  Raine stood on the sidewalk in front of Grant, her arms at her side and a small smile on her face. Grant was wet and dirty; she was dry and clean. Somehow, she had managed to contain the downpour so that it only hit the dust devil and Grant.

  He brushed at his wet, filthy clothes. A potato chip bag clung to his shoe and he kicked it off in Raine’s direction. Droplets of water flew from his shoe.

  “What the hell was that?” He looked up at the sky, then turned and looked at his entourage. I could see the stain of raindrops on a few of them, but for the most part, they were dry.

  “Some kind of cloudburst,” one of the men answered.

  “With a dust devil appetizer,” someone else said. A few of the people in the group snickered at the comment.

  “Shut up, Phil,” Grant snarled. Droplets of water dripped off the ends of his hair and ran down his face. The man named Phil didn’t say anything else, but he was smiling.

  Raine stepped back and stood beside me.

  “You really have been practicing, haven’t you?” I said quietly.

  She nodded and was about to speak when the whoop-whoop of a siren filled the air.

  Chapter 20

  A police car pulled up and double-parked in front of the hotel. I knew it couldn’t be Matt; it was too soon for him to be back from the mainland, so it had to be Dennis. But it wasn’t. A man I’d never seen before, dressed in a police uniform, eased himself out of the driver’s seat. Definitely not Dennis. Where Dennis was short, pudgy and had pasty skin, this guy was easily six feet tall and slim, with the healthy coloring of someone whose diet didn’t consist of donuts and milkshakes. It had to be the new chief.

  He strode over to us, one hand resting lightly on his gun holster. “Hi, folks, how we all doing?” He glanced at Grant, who was still dripping, but didn’t comment on his odd appearance.