Murder So Magical

by Tegan Maher

  "Then that only leaves Olivia," I said, "And that one's on me. I was being catty and patted her hand when I was in her office. It was only a half hour or so later that I about wore that pink atrocity as a backpack."

  "Well then, it seems to be a no-harm-no-foul situation since Noelle got with Coralee and cleaned up the messes with Roberta and the preacher."

  "What about the girl who tried to run Noelle over?" Moira asked, draining the last of her wine.

  "Got it covered," I said. "The mechanic where her car was towed is a good friend of ours and I'm confident there was something wrong with her brakes or something that caused her to lose control."

  Moira shook her head, smiling. "This town ain't like any other I've ever seen."

  "And we like it that way," Addy said. "Now, something you said about Suzette sparked an idea. I'm gonna pop over and talk to her."

  Rae sighed. “There’s only one problem: what about that judge comin’ down here for me and Olivia? He may buy it, but maybe not. Hunter’s gonna have to do some serious dancin’ around the truth to persuade him.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” I popped my head up. “Wait a minute—Katie’s murder. Is that one included in this mess?”

  Rae and Camille thought for a minute. “I don’t see how.”

  Then I remembered the fall. “I touched Angelica when she crashed into me.”

  Rae grimaced. “And Katie was always kinda condescending to her. Even that night she was. That had to grind.”

  I looked from one witch to another as the implication settled in. This just went from a handful of harmless mix-ups to murder.

  My phone buzzed against the table again, this time with a text from Hunter. "I know you're mad at me, but please call me. It's about Rae."

  I glanced from my phone to my best friend. We hadn't been around him for hours, so he shouldn't be under any kind of hex.

  Rae read the text over my shoulder. "Well what are you waiting on? Call him already!"

  Taking a deep breath, I hit the phone symbol in the top of the message box. It wasn't like avoiding him would change whatever it was that was going on.

  "Hey, sweetie," he said when he answered.

  "Hey. What's up?" I was still in a bit of a snit and wasn't quite ready to give it up, even though the rational part of my brain knew he'd been hexed. I'd get over it, but I needed an hour or so for my brain to connect with my temper.

  "The strangest thing just happened," he said, confusing muddling his tone.

  "Hang on a minute. Rae's here, and so are the girls. Can I put you on speaker so I don't have to repeat the story?"

  "Sure, go ahead."

  I hit the button, the told him to continue.

  "Olivia called and gave up some girl named Bunny an hour or so ago.” Oh. So that’s why he’d been calling me. “Said she'd been hostile toward Katie for a while over some guy. Honestly, she droned on about the details for so long that my eyes glazed over, but to separate the cream from the whey, she told me I'd find the blue scarf that match the beret Katie was clutching."

  "Yeah," Rae said, "but what good will that do?" She'll just say the hat was stolen or that she loaned it to her or something."

  "That may have been a problem, except for I just got the full report back on Katie. Apparently she went down fightin' because she had skin under two of her nails and a few strands of hair in the hand that wasn't holding the beret."

  "And you can match those to Bunny?" Addy asked. "I watch enough CSI to know that's still not fool-proof."

  "Ah, but you didn't let me finish," Hunter said. "When I went to talk to her, I took a warrant with me. She was wearing one of those silky fashion scarves, and I made her take it off. Lo and behold, she had two long scratches on her neck. Rae's off the hook, assuming the DNA matches."

  Monty'd moved closer when he heard Hunter's voice. After all, it's a bartender's responsibility to know all. By the time what Hunter'd said sunk in, he already had glasses of champagne in front of us.

  It occurred to me as I took a sip that for a week where my best friend had been arrested for murder and somebody had tried to kill me, I sure had sipped a lot of champagne.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Hunter took off early to come have lunch and a couple of beers with us, and we explained it all to him while we plowed through enough food for ten people. Camille seemed to be sticking to her resolution to live it up, though unlike me and Shelby, she practiced moderation and shared a burger and fries with Emma.

  Moira told us all about the life in big-city Virginia, which, to be honest, held no appeal for me at all. It may be cool to visit, though. And TJ definitely needed a sit-down. I'd liked her and wanted to be there for her for that regardless of the outcome.

  We'd just finished eating when Addy popped in. We’re have guests coming to the farm. They’ll be there in about twenty minutes, and you all need to be there.”

  “Who is it?” I grumbled. I had every intention of going home, but the only thing on my mind was a nap.

  “Suzette, from Eagle Gap. I went to talk to them it was ... enlightening. Y’all need to get your buckets there, pronto.”

  Camille pushed back from the table. “If it’s important enough for her to find somebody to watch her grandmamma and make the trip, it must be important. Let’s go, ladies.”

  “Oh, she’s bringing her. That’s what she needs to talk to you about.”

  “What does a witch well past her six-hundredth birthday have to do with any of this?” I asked.

  Addy scowled. “Just get your tail feathers to the farm. Stop flappin’ your gums and get a move on.”

  Shelby held out a hand. “All right, already. We’re going.”

  “And Camille, don’t let those rings out of your site.”

  “I wasn’t planning to,” she said as she motioned to Monty for our checks.

  “Y’all go on,” Hunter said. “I’m meetin’ Matt out at the farm to work on the bikes, but I’m not in a hurry.” We dropped enough cash to cover our tabs, then rushed out the door.

  By the time we got to the farm, there was a silver compact sitting in front of the house and two women—a middle-aged one and an old one—were sitting in two of the rocking chairs on the porch.

  Shelby and Camille pulled in beside me, and I waved to the women as I climbed out of the truck.

  “Y’all must be Suzette and Katherine. Welcome to Flynn Farm.” I made the introductions and invited them in. We all gathered in the kitchen with iced tea and pastries—yes, even after making gluttons of ourselves at the Cat, most of us made room for more, in the name of hospitality, of course.

  “Suzette,” Camille said, “Addy said you needed to talk to us.”

  “Indeed,” she said. “She popped over earlier and a couple troubling issues came to light.” She had a trace of a French accent that leant an air of sophistication to her.

  Katherine took a drink of her tea and grimaced. “It was so much better when sugar was a luxury. Now everybody uses so much you can’t even taste anything else.”

  “Grandmere!” Suzette said, her cheeks pinking. She turned to me. “I’m so sorry. She fades in and out. Lately it’s more out than in, and her manners fly out the door. She just opens her mouth and whatever’s in her head just falls right out.”

  I coughed and motioned to Addy. “She has the same problem, but doesn’t have an excuse.”

  Addy crossed her arms and glared at me. “Like your filter is any better than mine, Miss Punch-People-In-The-Mouth.”

  I waved her off. “That’s different and only applies to one person, usually.”

  “Ladies,” Camille said. “I’m sure Suzette didn’t come all the way here to discuss social skills.” She turned to Suzette. “Addy said you had something to discuss with us.”

  “I do. I understand you recently acquired four rings made of sterling silver spoons. May I see them?”

  Camille hesitated, but pulled the bag from her purse and spilled the rings onto the t
able.

  Katherine’s eyes lit up. “Mes anneaux!” she said, reaching for them. Suzette blocked her but leaned closer to examine them. She heaved a great sigh and sagged as if a huge weight had settled on her shoulders while I looked around the table to see if I was the only one who had no clue what that meant.

  “Mes anneaux.” Emma repeated. “My rings.”

  “So you do pay attention to something other than the cute guy that sits beside you in French class,” Camille said.

  Emma shot her a sizzling look. “I can multi-task.”

  “That’s all well and good,” Shelby said after washing down a bite of peach turnover, “but why did she call them hers?”

  “It is as I feared. I was hoping the current events were a coincidence, but they were not,” Suzette said.

  Max wondered closer from the spot where he’d been dozing in the living room. Peering over the edge of the table, he donkey-smirked at me. “I told you so.”

  “Wait,” Rae said, “He told you what?”

  Our conversation in the barn came rushing back and I huffed out a breath. I was never going to live this down. “He told me it was common practice in his time for witches to imbue objects with magic and that this situation reminded him of those times.”

  Raeann glanced at the rings as understanding dawned on her face. “Ohhh. Well that explains a lot.”

  “It does,” Camille said as she placed the rings back in the bag and tucked them in her purse in order to get them out of Katherine’s reach. “But it doesn’t explain everything. What kind of magic do they hold and what was their purpose? How did they come into play to begin with?”

  “I’ll answer your questions in order,” Suzette said. “Grandmere and her three sisters made the rings for their lovers back in the late 1500s. They were knights and the ability to charge into battle and fight without hesitation was critical to survival.”

  “Okay,” Shelby said, “But wasn’t that, like, a knight’s schtick? Bravery and all that?”

  Kathleen’s brows came together and she growled. “My Alexandre was the bravest of all knights!”

  “Of course he was, grandmere,” Suzette said, then uttered something in rapid-fire French. The old woman relaxed in her chair, but continued to glare at Shelby.

  Turning to us again, Suzette said, “Of course, but no good man can charge into battle for months or years at a time without growing weary. Grandmere and her sisters made these rings for their knights, so that they could charge into battle uninhibited by fear or hesitancy. The effect was immediate and lasted only long enough to focus their attention on their task. It wasn’t necessary after they were engaged in the fighting.”

  “So that explains their creation.”

  Max bowed his head in an unexpected display of respect toward Katherine. “A noble endeavor, madam. An art that’s been lost in recent centuries.”

  Katherine bowed her head back and smiled, but then her gaze lost focus and she was gone again.

  “Sir,” Suzette said to Max, “may I ask how you came to be in your current situation?”

  “I made the regrettable error of scorning an Irish witch.”

  “Ah,” Suzette said, nodding as if it made perfect sense. “And she set no caveat that would release the curse?”

  Max lopped his ears off to the side. “Caveat?”

  Suzette nodded. “Yes. It’s common in punitive curses for there to be a caveat that when the lesson is learned, the curse releases.”

  Shelby barked out a laugh. “Even if that’s a thing, I’m pretty sure he’s not changed enough to lose his fur coat.”

  Max scowled at her, but turned back toward Suzette and dipped his head. “You’ve given me much to think on, Mademoiselle. Thank you.”

  He pushed his way out the screen door and the sound of his hooves clomping down the steps told me he was likely heading to the barn.

  Addy snapped her fingers. “Poor decisions made more than five hundred years ago ain’t got jack to do with our current problem. Can we get back to the rings?”

  “Of course,” Suzette said. “Grandmere is the last remaining survivor, and her sisters’ rings came into her possession when they passed. She used them on occasion in recent years to give a confidence boost to good people who were—as you say—getting in their own way. When her cognitive condition began to decline, I took them from her and placed them under wards.”

  She glance at Kat, who was nibbling on her cranberry croissant. “I failed to consider who taught me to set those wards and that we share magic.” She arched a brow. “And that she gave me that box.” She sighed. “In short, I underestimated her.”

  Glancing at Camille, she continued, “She found the box under my bed and unlocked the wards.” She shot her grandmammy an irritated look. “She’s had a soft spot for that style of jewelry and has several non-magical ones, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to wear one. I never gave it a second thought.”

  Addy floated closer. “So that explains the odd behavior and recent ruckus in your neck of the woods? She got ahold of her juju rings and was using them?”

  “Yes, put simply.” Suzette shook her head. “Most of the time, it was accidental. She’d shake hands with somebody, or pat them on the shoulder. A few of the times, though, she saw something she liked and, just by touching the proprietors, removed their inhibition to give their items away for free, which left them with their desire to please a little old lady.”

  “And the witches?” Camille asked.

  I stood to refill glasses while Suzette continued. I noted that she was twisting a handkerchief and avoiding eye contact.

  “I still haven’t figured that out, but I do know silver is conducive and can be used just as easily drain energy as it can push it. Since the power of the rings has the unfortunate side effect of memory loss, I can only guess that’s what happened; she took when she meant to give. She’s a healer, so if she felt sickness, it would have been her instinct to help. I’ve confirmed that she was in the presence of all fourteen witches who were affected. And she had visited Nora the day before she died.”

  “Nora called us,” Camille said, then explained the message they’d gotten. “The reception was poor. I think maybe she was saying Kat rather than cat, and that she’d give us the rings rather than give us a ring.”

  “Then it makes sense.” Suzette’s eyes glistened. “So what is going to happen to her?”

  Camille examined Katherine for a long moment. “Does she have any other imbued objects?”

  Suzette shook her head.

  “Then I believe that since Nora bound her before she died, Kat would be best served by remaining with you, under the observation of the MOC. I’ll have to discuss it with the council, but I believe they’ll agree.”

  Suzette drew in a long breath, then slowly released it. “Thank you,” she said.

  Suzette and Katherine stayed for just a few more minutes, then headed back to Eagle Gap.

  After they left, Camille grumbled and picked up her phone. "I better call the council and tell them they spent thousands of dollars and hundreds of man hours tracking a little old lady who's gone round the bend."

  "Wait a minute," Emma said when everybody started pushing back from the table. “Two questions. First, why weren't we affected?"

  "That one's easy," Rae said, draining her tea glass. "After what happened with Mama, we beefed up our wards. The ones we were all taught guard against that kind of thing."

  Camille nodded and pointed toward a small medicine bag Emma wore on a leather string around her neck. “Yours are similar, Emma. With my job, I wasn’t taking any chances.”

  "Okay, then what happened to her powers and why did this Nora lady have the rings hidden in a table in her attic?"

  "That's where things are a little shaky," Moira said, "But from what Camille's said, my guess is that Nora figured it out, got the rings from her, then bound her."

  Rae nodded. "Yeah, I took a look at the recipe. They only problem with it was that she
attached it to her own energy rather than pulling it from around her, and she did it by herself rather than with a group of three like she should have."

  "But why?" Shelby asked.

  "That's on us," Camille said, shredding her napkin. "We sorta blew her off longer than we should have because we had so many calls on the tip line like that. We never even called her death suspicious."

  That made me sad, especially when I thought back to the look on TJ's face. She'd almost had a chance at having a family, and would have if her aunt had just waited on the council, but she must have had her reasons.

  At least now we knew what had happened, and all was well. She was coming for a visit as soon as she could arrange time off from work, and Camille was going to work with her. Of course, all the rest of us would be there for her, too. I had a feeling we’d be seeing a lot of her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  After getting the go-ahead from Hunter, Skeet stepped up and "found" a broken brake line, so Olivia was off the hook, though she would never know the truth. Coralee had the rumor mill in fine working order and Roberta and Reverend Gabe came out lookin' better than they did before they were hexed, so that worked out.

  And I was glad, in a weird way, that it worked out to be Bunny rather than Angelica who had killed Katie. Even though the murder was way outside the window compared to the other hex victims, I would have always wondered.

  I was working at Brew so Angel could help her mama out when the bell over the door jangled and Olivia walked in, then trudged toward the counter where I was stocking pastries.

  "Olivia," I said, trying to be civil.

  "Noelle," she nodded back. The silence dragged on until it was almost painful as I waited for her to speak.

  She looked like she had a toothache when she ground out, "Thanks for ... just thanks."

  "You're welcome." I smiled, enjoying her discomfort, then remembered she'd hauled Rae's butt out of the sling, too. That wiped the grin off my face.

  "Well, then, I guess thanks for Rae." I understood then why she'd looked like she'd been choking when she'd said it to me. The words tasted foul and wrong rolling off my tongue.