Murder & Macarons

by Amy Casey

  “And none of this has anything to do with your cousin?”

  “Thomas? No. To be honest I barely even knew him.”

  “Long-lost relative?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And you don’t think he killed Andy Carter.”

  I looked at Steve and I sighed. “Honest answer? I don’t know. Any number of people could’ve killed Andy Carter. But then we knew that already anyway, didn’t we? All I know is that the deal they spoke about… we know what that is now. And now that deal has been foiled… well, we can only assume that this is part of why Andy was killed after all.”

  Steve nodded. “You did good.”

  I did a double take. “What?”

  “Tracking Herbert down like this. Figuring things out. You did good. Hell, you did better than I did. Fancy a job as a detective inspector?”

  I smiled. Lowered my head. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  “That’s what I’m always telling myself. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself.’ But when you’ve got someone in town who’s better at solving things than the lead bloody detectives, it doesn’t exactly send out the best message, does it?”

  I smiled. It was nice to talk to Steve like this. Nice to be open. I could tell that his awkwardness was really just down to his insecurity. And could I blame his insecurities, really?

  “You have a point,” I said. “You aren’t great.”

  He laughed. And I laughed too. And in the glow of the lights, it felt like we were getting somewhere. Like we were connecting, truly.

  “One thing,” Steve said. “One question, then you’re free to leave.”

  “Shoot.”

  “That clown outfit. What the bloody hell was that all about?”

  I laughed. And I prepared to answer. Or at least, give an answer of a sort.

  But then I saw Herbert Young being escorted to a police vehicle, the paralysis finally shifting from his body.

  He looked over at me. And I looked at him.

  And as he was bundled into a police car, I thought I saw him smile.

  “It’s over,” Steve said. “That’s what I feel.”

  As I watched Herbert Young stare at me from behind the window of the police car, I wished I could believe Steve.

  Chapter 34

  As soon as Herbert Young was arrested, things really did hit a dead end.

  But not in as satisfying a way as I might have hoped.

  Herbert Young was being questioned for his involvement in a drug operation, and for the murder of Andy Carter. Bill Collins and Stephen Hankinson had also been taken in; the latter who was finally being charged for the assault on me in my own home, while currently out on bail. It felt like there was a line forming under the difficult times that the town of Goosridge had been through of late. A line that was going to finally draw the whole Andy Carter saga to a close, too.

  But it still didn’t feel like things were really resolved. I couldn’t explain it. The end of the Krissy Palmer case, it felt like there’d been closure. That justice really had been served. All the pieces of the puzzle of that case fit into place. And although some of those pieces were oblong and didn’t quite seem perfect, things made a strange kind of sense.

  The Andy Carter case?

  Things slid together a little too neatly.

  And that had me questioning everything.

  But I’d decided there was something else for me to do today. And that was to take Thomas and the rest of my family up on their offer of a visit to Nightthistle—the town that they were from, and the town they’d invited me to.

  I had to admit, part of what was drawing me to Nightthistle was Thomas. I still didn’t totally buy his story. He wasn’t completely off the hook.

  And there was Andy Carter’s troll family, too. Could they have some involvement in this after all?

  But there was another reason I was going to visit this town. And that was that I had to admit I was genuinely curious about the place.

  I drove down the long, winding road out of Goosridge. I was in the middle of the countryside and would be for a long time. Goosridge might be a small town, but it was a long way from the nearest big city. I looked at the directions on the notepad in front of me, trying to keep my focus on the road at the same time. I didn’t drive much. Didn’t even own a car. No point when I was only ever in town. So I’d hired one for the weekend, let Annabelle take charge of the shop.

  I didn’t think I wanted to leave Goosridge. Honestly, I was happy there. Life was good. I had friends, I was close to my dad, and everyone there got along well. Or at least, pretty well.

  But I couldn’t help reflecting on something Steve had said after Herbert Young had been bundled into that police car several nights ago.

  You need to find some time for yourself sometimes, Stella. And sometimes, that can come in the strangest of forms.

  I thought about his words. There was a truth to them that resonated with me. A truth that was drawing me to Nightthistle.

  But the bloody town wouldn’t even be recognised on my sat nav. So I was having to battle with a notepad and some very dubious directions from Dad—which had currently got me driving up and down the same stretch of road for the last half hour.

  I pulled over by the side of a field. Stopped, and climbed out. I looked at the note, which told me to turn at the white statue and I’d find Nightthistle right ahead.

  Except I was parked right beside that statue right now—and I couldn’t see a bloody booming town anywhere nearby.

  I thought about what Thomas had told me about Nightthistle and I wondered why I hadn’t heard of it before, or how a place so large and, well, magic could go under the radar for so long. I was starting to doubt whether this place even existed at all.

  And then I turned around and I saw something.

  I could only describe what I was looking at as… well. How the hell could I even begin to deserve what I was looking at?

  Okay. I’ll give it a shot.

  A short—and when I say short, I mean two feet short—winged man. Nude, completely, but for a little leaf in front of his private parts—and I mean little.

  Oh. And he was floating.

  He looked at me and sighed. “Stella Storm?”

  “What… How…”

  He puffed out his lips, which were rather large and plump. He had long curly hair which sat on his shoulders and looked like it’d seen some very good shampoo. “What. You’ve never seen a fairy before?”

  “I… No. No, I really haven’t seen a fairy before.”

  He narrowed his eyes, then checked a cute little notepad, as if he somehow doubted what I was saying. “Really?”

  I could barely keep to my feet. “Really.” I knew magic existed. But seeing it… like this. Well, it was a lot to take in.

  He whistled as he scanned through his notepad some more. “And what is the nature of your visit to Nightthistle?”

  “You know where it is? I mean… stupid question. You’re a fairy. With your tackle out. On an open road. Of course you know where Nightthistle is.”

  He glared at me again. I needed to really learn how to slow down my speaking when I was nervous.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Nature of my visit. Would ‘family’ be valid?”

  The fairy jotted down a couple of things on the paper. “Doesn’t bother me what you put. Just as long as I can find something to fill the box. Anyway. Hold still while I scan you.”

  “What—”

  But it was too late. This fairy was already waving this little wand with a star on it from head to toe. I saw sparks fly out of it, spreading down my body.

  He caught my bemused expression. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head.

  “No, come on. You’re smirking at me. You can at least tell me why.”

  I took in a sharp, deep breath. “Oh, I dunno. Nothing to do with the fact you’re naked. And that you’re two feet tall. And waving a little novelty wand around. Nothing to do wit
h any of that.”

  The fairy grumbled something under his breath and shook his head. “People like you. Spent too much time with the normies that you’ve forgotten your manners completely. Well, I’d love to say it’s been a pleasure, Stella, but it really hasn’t. Hold on tight.”

  “Wait,” I said, as I felt a spinning sensation entrance my body. “That car. It’s not…”

  Then there was a flash.

  I opened my eyes like I was waking from a dream. And maybe that’s what that was. A dream. Because fairies didn’t exist. And they certainly didn’t exist the way I’d seen them.

  Did they?

  I rubbed my eyes. Staggered to my feet.

  When I saw the town in front of me, I tumbled back down again.

  Because this wasn’t a dream.

  This was Nightthistle.

  And it was un-bloody-believable.

  Chapter 35

  I never intended to spend more than a few hours in Nightthistle.

  But come on. If you saw this place, you’d end up staying there a little longer, too.

  Oh, you want to know what I saw? You want to know the first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes?

  Well, the first thing was a bit alarming in all truth.

  It was a man, only he was topless and covered in hair.

  His eyes were golden. His teeth were sharp.

  I later learned he was a werewolf. Yeah. It isn’t just witches, ghosts, demons, and fairies that exist. It’s werewolves too.

  I was just as surprised as you are.

  The second thing I saw, though, when the werewolf—Hans, thoroughly nice chap—lifted me to my feet?

  I saw the town.

  It was bizarre, to be honest. It looked like a model town, or like one of those in a Scandinavian country, only to a radical new extreme. There were harsh pinks, eye-searing greens. The streets were busy with crowds of… well, not just people. There were all kinds of species in this town, as I’d already said. Witches. Werewolves. Apparently, even vampires were a thing, although they weren’t exactly ones for partying.

  That first day was like a weird orientation. I’d met up with my family. I’d found Thomas here. They’d welcomed me, fed me foods I couldn’t even describe.

  And very quickly, my links to Goosridge felt like they were slipping. For the first time in a long time, it felt like I was on a holiday from real life—and I realised just how much I’d needed that break after all.

  A week had passed. I hadn’t contacted home. Which I knew was bad because I hadn’t made plans for what I wanted to happen with Witchy Delights. I’d told Mary I was going away for the weekend, but I hadn’t contacted her ever since.

  I wondered if there’d be a search out for me. Whether Steve would be leading that search, wondering where the hell I’d got to, whether any of it was to do with Andy Carter’s murder.

  I wanted to reassure both of them—all of them—that I was okay.

  Because it really did feel like something I hadn’t been expecting.

  It felt like home here.

  I walked through the market as quickly as I could. The pace of life was pretty rapid here, and you didn’t want to wait around. The voices echoed all around me. The sparkling sounds of spells being cast, of magical items being sold, all of them still enchanted me. I saw a little salt shaker that turned into a pepper pot in the blink of an eye. A little boring, sure, but functional all the same. I saw a drink that claimed to contain all the nutrients you needed for any given day—without bloody additives. I saw little creatures in cages doing somersaults, like monsters from another realm.

  I saw all of these things, smelled the sweetness of foods that made even the nicest food from back in the normal world seem dull and uninteresting. I pictured Annabelle’s face as she walked across this market, eyes darting from one food to another.

  And I pictured Rocky’s face, too.

  I lowered my head when I thought of Rocky. Felt sadness in my chest. I felt guilty for being away from him for so long. But I had no intention of leaving him with Mary forever. I was going to go back for him and Beatrice, and I was going to move them both here with me.

  Rocky would settle in just fine. There were other talking dogs, just like him.

  And Beatrice… well, Beatrice could just do Beatrice. Sit there. Look at me judgementally. The usual.

  I grabbed one of the cakes from the stall, paid for it using my magic. Yeah, magic was a currency here. You paid it, and that magic was reinvested into other things like baking, inventing, building. It was quite a nice way of doing things. It didn’t seem like there was any poverty here. Didn’t seem like there was anyone struggling too much, anyone on the streets. Another way in which this place was perfect.

  But still, I was finding my feet. Still, I was settling in.

  Oh, one thing worth noting. I’d tried to track down the troll family that Thomas suspected were Andy Carter’s parents. But it turned out trolls didn’t actually live in Nightthistle. They lived in another town, which I apparently didn’t have anywhere near enough strength to visit yet.

  Oh, and trolls generally ate people, especially newcomers. So that wasn’t something I was keen on experiencing anytime soon.

  I walked away from the market, down the narrow, colourful cobbled streets and towards the family home. Two men—vampires by the looks of things—nodded at me as I passed. I nodded back, even though I was convinced I didn’t recognise them. Apparently, my family went back centuries, and was quite well-respected. The family home was on its own, up on a hill, away from the others. Looked like it’d be worth quite a bit. Although apparently, a lot of sheltered land surrounding it was required in order to keep the witchy rituals from view.

  I didn’t know what the rituals entailed. Just that they were a bit like christenings, and I would have to have one if I wanted to stay here permanently.

  But there was also a mention of nudity and dancing, and I wasn’t sure I was quite ready to go full witch just yet if that was the case.

  I walked up the hill towards the house. Clouds were thickening above it. The black wood it was made from was covered in moss. To be honest, it looked barely fit to be still standing, but I had to assume some magic force or other was keeping it in place.

  I reached the door, tapped it with my wand, muttered the keywords.

  A few flashes came from my wand; then the door clicked open.

  The second I stepped inside, I saw a familiar sight; a sight that wouldn’t be too unfamiliar in the old world.

  Aunt Hilda was perched in front of the television, chowing down on some popcorn.

  I walked inside, made a move for the kitchen, where Tara and Becky were currently congregating. “Got some stuff for dinner,” I said.

  “Dinner?” Aunt Hilda called. “Not another lame attempt to convince us you normies can actually cook.”

  “Hey,” I said. “I’m not a normie. You keep forgetting that.”

  “Still can’t cook,” Aunt Hilda said.

  I put the food away—magically—and then I walked into the living room with a glass of water. It was dark and dreary in here, filled with cobwebs. And yet it still had a warm charm about it. Still, if I was going to stay here, I think I’d consider cleaning the place up a little.

  I leaned back on the chair beside Aunt Hilda. “So I was thinking—”

  “Never usually a good thing.”

  I gritted my teeth. I was used to this from Aunt Hilda by now. “I have a shop back in Goosridge. Coffee, bakery, that sort of thing.”

  “And?” Aunt Hilda said.

  “Well, I was wondering if… if maybe some of the people of Nightthistle would like to sample some…”

  I stopped, then.

  I stopped because I’d seen what was on television.

  “Sample some what? Jeez. You can’t even say it, let alone sell it.”

  I stood up, suddenly. “How do I get back?”

  Aunt Hilda frowned. “What?”

  “I need to go back.”


  “Back to the market? Well, you know exactly where you have to go.”

  “No. Back to Goosridge.”

  Aunt Hilda narrowed her eyes some more. “What’s got into you, girl?”

  I looked at the television, heart racing, and I knew I couldn’t just stay here. Not with this news. Not now it was out.

  Because not only had Herbert Young been released from police custody.

  But Bill Collins had been found dead.

  Something was wrong.

  Something was terribly wrong.

  And I had to get to the bottom of it.

  Chapter 36

  When I stormed into the police station and into the office where Steve was working, I could tell from the look on his face that he knew why I was here already.

  It was afternoon and it was cloudy as hell. To be honest, the weather was making me just want to give all of this up and go back to Nightthistle with its wonderful sounds and smells. But instead I was here, in a stuffy, sweaty police station in my dead-end small town where nothing ever truly happened of any relevance.

  But I had to be here.

  I’d been drawn back here.

  And it was all because of this man.

  “Stella,” Steve said, backing into his chair before fiddling with his tie. He wasn’t making any eye contact with me. “Where’ve you been? We were starting to get worried about you.”

  “Never mind where I’ve been,” I said, barely able to keep my rage contained. I’d use magic and blast everyone out of this room if I could, but there was a several hour block on abilities when moving between dimensions, so I had a while to wait yet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing releasing Herbert Young back into the wild?”

  Steve glared at me. I heard footsteps behind me, then felt the hands of security guards on my arms.

  “It’s okay,” Steve said, waving them off. “Seriously, it’s okay.”

  They reluctantly backed away. But I could tell Steve was considering letting them drag me out of here after all.