Pretty Hexed: Cozy Witch Mystery (Witches of Winterfield Book 1)

by Sara Bourgeois

  While the time warp had taken Petunia when Bella was young, it had allowed her to visit when Belladonna needed her most.

  “You need me, so here I am.”

  “How long will you be able to stay?” Belladonna asked hopefully.

  “Oh, Bella. You know that I can’t possibly tell you that, but your Granny and Aunt are working hard as we speak to anchor me to this time for as long as possible. So, tell me about this Detective Ben.” Her mother said and smiled impishly.

  “Mama, I haven’t seen you in…” But Bella trailed off. One of the effects of the time warp was that Belladonna, and others, couldn’t place Petunia in time. “Anyway. I haven’t seen you in a long while, and you want to know about a man?”

  Before Petunia could answer, the bell above the door rang and Mayor Whitlock strolled through the door of the salon. He was emanating his usual pompous aura, but Belladonna picked up on something a little different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  “Why Petunia Nightshade, I can’t believe it’s you. It’s been. Well, it’s been… It’s been a while since we’ve seen you. This must be a special occasion.” He said and took a seat in a chair. “Belladonna, be a dear and give me a shave and trim. I’ve got an important dinner tonight.”

  Bella walked across the room to start the hot shave machine. She went into the back to grab her shave kit and warm up a towel. While she was gone, Mayor Whitlock addressed Petunia.

  “Petunia, be an even bigger dear and ward the door. I’ve got a message for your daughter, and I’d like to keep it between us if you know what I mean.”

  When Belladonna emerged from the back room, she could sense the powerful spell protecting and blocking the door. She set the shave kit down on the counter in front of the Mayor and turned to face him.

  “Belladonna, I’m going to say this once so please listen. You’ve got to stop poking your nose into this business with Elsbeth’s death. For your sake and for the cat’s, please just drop the whole thing.”

  “Why?” Belladonna immediately retorted.

  “Why what, dear?” Mayor Whitlock asked her stunned.

  “Why did you…”

  “Belladonna, not now.” Petunia cautioned her daughter sternly.

  Bella gave the Mayor his trim and shave. He paid her, gave her a generous tip, and left. The visit wasn’t much different than usual other than the warding on the door and the message. Unlike his wife, the Mayor was a relatively regular customer.

  “What was that all about?” Belladonna asked her mother once Mayor Whitlock was gone.

  “He had me ward the door while you were in the back. I guess the message was planted in his subconscious. I don’t know if he did it or if someone else used him to get the warning to you, but the Mayor had no idea he said anything to you about Elsbeth’s death.” Petunia explained.

  “How could he plant a message in his own subconscious and have no idea what’s going on?” Belladonna was thoroughly confused.

  “If someone is using a confusion spell on him, he may have had a moment of clarity for one reason or another. He could have planted the warning as a way to help or someone close to him could have planted it as a way to reach you anonymously.”

  “So the Mayor is either trying to help me but is afflicted with dark magic, or he could be involved.”

  “Yes,” Petunia answered and put a reassuring hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

  “Awesome.”

  Ten

  Winterfield Police Station

  The phone rang on Detective Benjamin’s desk. He picked it up, and the sound of the voice on the other end of the line made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  “Your girlfriend is sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.” The voice hissed.

  “Who is this?”

  “Just listen. Belladonna Nightshade is investigating Elsbeth Tory’s death. It could be because she’s just bored, or it could be because she’s trying to sabotage your pathetic excuse for an investigation. Either way, you should encourage her to stop.” The person on the other end of the line had a voice that had turned melodic and mesmerizing.

  No one had put any kind of protection spell on Det. Ben and the voice lulled him into a highly suggestible state. He felt all of the initial resistance to the idea that Bella was somehow actually involved in Mrs. Tory’s death and the fire that destroyed her mansion melt away.

  Something deep inside of Det. Ben fought back. “I don’t think so. Initially, she was a potential suspect, but Belladonna is no longer on my list. Now, you still haven’t told me your name.” He said firmly feeling his resolve strengthen to a roaring fire in his chest that radiated out to his fingers and down to his toes.

  “Please Detective, just consider it. It doesn’t hurt to consider all of the possibilities.” The voice practically cooed at him.

  “It doesn’t hurt to consider the possibilities.” Det. Ben parroted as the fire inside him was extinguished by the caller’s further prodding.

  “You should go talk to her today. She’s had a busy morning, but her schedule this afternoon looks clear.” The voice danced inside of Det. Benjamin’s mind.

  “I’ll go talk to her today.” He agreed in a monotone voice.

  The caller disconnected, and Det. Ben put the phone back down in the cradle. In his mind, he’d just received a tip that Belladonna Nightshade might be tampering with the case. He was going to need to speak with her soon.

  Despite the topic of the conversation he had to have with Bella, the prospect of seeing her again lifted Detective Ben’s spirits a little. Just being around her made him feel happier and lighter. The grayness that had settled in his chest after his wife died seemed to fade away when he was close to Ms. Nightshade. He thought this should make him feel guilty, but it actually made it easier to enjoy the good memories he had of his wife.

  “Some things are meant to be Benjamin.” He heard his wife say.

  The detective whirled around in his chair inexplicably expecting to see his wife standing behind him, but there was no one there. It had to have been a memory.

  Detective Ben put the files strewn across his desk back together and stacked them neatly. Since Winterfield was a smaller town, he was the only detective. That meant that he investigated all of the crimes that occurred. Normally that wasn’t much, but lately, something had gotten into the town of Winterfield.

  Vandalism, petty theft, and an array of other low-level chaos had been keeping him busy. Nothing had turned violent yet, but a dark cloud was hanging over everyone. Det. Ben could feel the tension boiling under the surface, and to make matters worse, the people of Winterfield still wouldn’t talk to him.

  He had to figure out a way to help because he could almost sense that the situation would start deteriorating soon. He’d seen communities descend into violence and disorder when he worked in the city, but there was usually an identifiable cause. Det. Ben didn’t believe that Mrs. Tory’s death was the source of the instability present in Winterfield, but it sure did seem to be the start of it.

  The good news was that last night seemed to be a respite from the increasing bedlam. Earlier in the day, during the predawn hours, someone had stolen all of the lawn ornaments in a three-block radius around the park. Then the thief had rearranged them on different lawns. The neighbors had to collect their decorations from each other’s yards. They grumbled, huffed, and eyed each other suspiciously the entire time, but no one could tell Det. Ben anything. At least, no one would say anything.

  Then, like magic, it stopped. It was as if someone had cast a spell over the town and everything calmed down suddenly. Det. Ben was worried that it was the kind of calm that comes before a storm.

  He decided to walk from the police station to Belladonna’s shop. It would give him the opportunity to canvas the area again. The detective could stop at the shops along the way and ask again if anyone had seen or heard anything. Detective Ben knew they would most likely tell him, no, but he had to ask. It was his job to k
eep trying no matter what, and maybe he would get lucky, and someone would warm up to him.

  The dry cleaner, baker, and butcher all told him they had no new information for him. None of them had any new crimes to report, so he took that as a good sign for now. Something else happened as well. Each of them gave him coupons for their services. That was something new. Before, they’d acted like they didn’t really want him in their shops, but now they were kind and welcoming.

  That put a pep in Detective Ben’s step, and he walked the rest of the way to Bella Beauty Salon with a smile on his face. As he was rounding the corner, he saw a woman that looked like a slightly older version of Belladonna come out of her shop. She waved and smiled at the detective and then crossed the street to the square center. She appeared to be walking towards Belladonna’s house.

  Detective Benjamin waved back. He’d have to ask Belladonna who her mysterious doppelganger was. His excitement about seeing Bella fell when he remembered why he was here. He hoped that this conversation would go well, but Det. Ben knew that was a false hope.

  “It doesn’t hurt to explore all of the possibilities.” He whispered to himself like an affirmation.

  Bella Beauty Salon

  A smile spread across Bella’s face when she saw Det. Ben walk into the salon. There was something about him that felt good to be around. Her smile faded slightly when she saw the look of confusion clouding his eyes. Detective Ben wanted to be happy to see her, but he was conflicted.

  “What’s wrong, Detective?” He winced at the formality of her addressing him as Detective.

  “I’ve received some information that I need to discuss with you. I don’t want to discuss it with you, but it doesn’t hurt to explore all of the possibilities.” He said, and the last part came out robotically.

  “What information? Ask me anything, Ben.” Belladonna watched him physically relax when she called him by his first name.

  “I got a tip that you were investigating the Tory death. Is there any possibility that you’re trying to interfere with the investigation?” Det. Ben immediately regretted the question as soon as it left his lips. He watched her recoil with hurt and wished he’d never come here.

  “No, of course not. And, if I don’t like what you’re implying.”

  Belladonna and Detective Benjamin locked eyes, and they didn’t see the person standing outside the salon. The black hoodie shadowed the figure’s face from view, and their hand turned a dark stone over and over inside their pocket.

  Whoever it was standing outside, they were close enough that their dark magic could escape the protection spells Belladonna’s family cast just a bit. They couldn’t break through enough to cause physical damage, but their dark magic could stir up some distrust and hurt between these two.

  Without the moon’s protection, it was sufficient to cause a ridiculous argument. The fact that Bella and Ben had feelings for each other only made it worse. They were far more open to each other than strangers, or even acquaintances would be. The magic played on their vulnerability to each other, and it played them like a haunting melody.

  “I’m not implying anything, Ms. Nightshade. I was asking a question. It’s my job.” Det. Ben returned a little more harshly than he intended, but it didn’t matter. It was enough for the animosity to take hold. Sometimes in life, we have fights, and sometimes the fights have us.

  “You are too implying something. You’re saying I’m the kind of person who would interfere with a police investigation. You’re also suggesting that I might have had something to do with her death, or that I’m helping the person who did.” The venom was rising in Bella’s voice.

  “Look, Bella. I didn’t intend for you to get all bent out of shape over this. I’m trying to solve a case, and apparently, you’re doing things to get in the way of that. Even worse is that you’re making it so obvious that I’m now getting anonymous tips about your meddling.” Det. Ben could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, but they were spilling out as if it was beyond his control.

  “Meddling? You think I’m meddling? It’s not like you’re solving the case. I bet you don’t even care. You’re an outsider. I’m not even sure why you’re here!” Belladonna’s voice was just below a shout.

  “I’m here because I wanted to get away from the drama, violence, and craziness of the city. But, low and behold I’ve somehow stumbled into even more craziness.” He knew he should leave now. Det. Ben needed to turn and walk away before he said anything else horrible.

  What he couldn’t figure out was why he couldn’t shut his mouth or get his feet to move. It felt as though something dark and terrible was wrapped around him holding him in place. There was a force outside of him playing him like a puppet, but he didn’t know enough about himself yet to fight it.

  The look of shock, hurt, and fury on Belladonna’s face tugged at Detective Ben’s heart and frightened him just a little. She was most defiantly a force to be reckoned with her emotions intensified.

  “Crazy. Are you calling me crazy? Are you insinuating that I’m the cause of the drama in town? Have you lost YOUR mind, Ben?”

  “Maybe I am. There is something that’s just not quite right about you.” Oh god, I don’t mean that he thinks to himself as soon as it’s out. “My investigation has come to a grinding halt, the town is in turmoil, and from where I stand, you’re right in the middle of all of it, Belladonna.”

  Bella’s fists are clenched at her sides. She could feel a primal scream building up inside her belly. She wanted to lay into him so badly, but instead of yelling, tears spilled down her cheeks. Ben saw that he made her cry, and it was enough to break him out of the spell.

  “I’m so sorry, Bella. I didn’t mean…”

  “Just go.” She whispered as she wiped the tears away with the backs of her hands.

  Ben was at a loss, but he worried staying would give him the chance to say something else horrible. He would find a way to apologize and make this right, but for now, he needed to give her space.

  As he exited the beauty salon, Det. Ben saw a person in a black hoodie walking down the street and across the square. Something deep inside told him that this person was up to no good. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but it was an intuition honed during his years of being a big city detective.

  “Follow from the right distance, and you won’t see me.” Detective Benjamin whispered to himself. It was like and affirmation.

  It was like a spell.

  Eleven

  Winterfield Cemetery

  Detective Benjamin followed the figure to the town’s cemetery gates. He watched the person walk in and down the gravel road and then off the path. They appeared to be heading towards the center of the graveyard.

  Somehow, the detective managed to keep the perfect distance. In this city, this would have been an easy feat because the noises of the people and cars around him would have kept Detective Benjamin’s footsteps masked, but out here it was deathly quiet. Still, the man or woman he was following didn’t hear him.

  The detective came to a stop at the same time as the figure. He could make out the name on the headstone, but Det. Ben didn’t need to see it. It was Elsbeth Tory’s grave.

  He blinked and rubbed his eyes with his fists because, for a moment, he could swear that he’d seen Elsbeth’s ghost standing behind the gravestone looking at the now kneeling figure angrily. When he opened his eyes again, Elsbeth was gone. The figure walked away from the gravestone quickly and in the opposite direction of where Ben was standing.

  Detective Benjamin debated following them, but something on the headstone caught his attention. He approached slowly so as not to alert the figure to his presence, but Det. Ben was sure whoever it was, they already knew he was there. That had to be why they’d taken off so fast in the other direction.

  Benjamin looked around the cemetery. It was a mixture of ancient and modern stones and had obviously been Winterfield’s only graveyard since the town’s founding.

  Off in the distanc
e, he could see the tree line that marked the edge of the cemetery’s boundaries, and he watched as the figure disappeared into the forest. That made him want to confront whoever it was, but why? He had no real reason to be following.

  He looked down at the black rock sitting on Elsbeth’s headstone again, and this time Det. Ben picked it up. The stone rolled around in his hand, and he noted how it felt heavier than it looked. The dark, glassy black rock also made him feel heavy.

  “It’s important.”

  Detective Ben spun around, but there was no one there. The voice had sounded so much like Amy’s voice. What Ben couldn’t figure out was why his dead wife was haunting him, or why his own mind was trying to drive him crazy thinking she was.

  “Because you’re hopeless, Benji. Adorable, smart, but utterly hopeless.” This time he could see Amy.

  Her spirit was right there in front of him, and when he closed his eyes and opened them this time, she was still floating there in front of him. Peace and calm radiated off her, and it seeped into Ben.

  “Amy? I don’t understand.” He said still completely shocked.

  “See. Hopeless.” She laughed sweetly. “Benji, my sweet your life is more important than you know. You’re about to find out just how important you and Belladonna are. I wish I could tell you. I really do. I love you and I always will, but you have to move on. I can’t proceed to the next world until your business with Elsbeth’s death is done, and your fate is in play. Please know that everything happens for a reason, and I’m fine. I want you to be happy, Benji.” And with that, she faded away.

  “I love you too, Amy, and I’ll do everything I can to help you move on as soon as possible.” He said, and then Detective Ben felt a warm breeze blow across his face. He could swear he heard Amy’s sweet laughter in the distance.

  Detective Benjamin never believed in ghosts before moving to Winterfield, but either they were completely real, or sometime in the last week he’d lost his mind entirely.