Speaking of recourse, there’s going to be an even higher price to pay if that UPS driver doesn’t show up in the next five minutes.
“Seriously?” I straightened up from the counter, refusing to believe that Nan of all witches would have taken the easy way out. “You just buried the broomstick.”
“Yes, I did.”
Wait! I hear an engine.
Leo’s short legs scrambled to get a footing underneath him as he waddled from the vent to the bay window facing the front drive. Instead of attempting to jump up to his pillow, which took him quite a few tries, he disappeared in the blink of an eye only to reappear on his favorite cat bed.
Forget everything I said about that UPS driver. He’s a saint in brown shorts. He resisted temptation to run away with the most delicious catnip edibles one can buy, only to deliver it to little ol’ me. I’m telling you, the man deserves a raise for all his hard work.
“Raven, I’m beginning to get concerned that you’ve allowed Leo’s addiction to get out of control,” Mom said foolishly, not understanding Leo’s relationship with the minty herb. I related, because the coffee bean was the best thing to ever grow out of the earth’s rich soil. “Have you—”
Look, witch traitor. I will have you know that—
“Okay, then,” I said, shooting Leo a warning glance that told him not to spar with my mother before I was able to get more information regarding Lucille’s broomstick. “Leo, let me grab your package off the front porch. Mom, where did you bury the broomstick and how were you able to touch it without suffering the consequences?”
“Touching it doesn’t kill a person, dear,” my mother replied as if she were giving me a history lesson. “Having it in one’s possession for a longer period of time is what accomplishes the deed, though I have no idea how many days or months that might take.”
Why don’t you go get it and find—
Leo did his disappearing act when I veered in his direction instead of the door. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to finish that sentence, I quickly retrieved his package from the front stoop with a quick wave to the driver. He was already in his truck and ready to continue along his route, leaving me to wonder if he had room in the passenger seat. Honestly, a nice vacation before the end of summer was sounding better and better.
“If you say one more word to instigate her, I will toss your stash of catnip down the garbage disposal,” I muttered, my reverie of a sandy beach dissipating upon the sound of a discreet cough. I opened up the package with my car keys that were in the wooden bowl I kept on top of the narrow table next to the front door. “Eat your treat and be quiet.”
I left Leo to enjoy his morning snack, snatching up my coffee cup before rejoining my mother at the kitchen island. Her irritation with Leo was obvious from her pursed lips and the deep lines in her forehead.
“Back to the broomstick,” I prodded, pulling out the stool next to my mother. “What else can you tell me about it? Clearly, someone dug it up by accident. I have no idea how the sheriff got ahold of it, but Liam and Jack are relatively sure that the sheriff who died had been poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” Mom asked in astonishment, setting her mug down on the granite with a click. “Usually, a death in relation to the curse is more of the natural variety, like a heart attack or stroke. Poison is…”
“Murder.”
What is with your affinity of the M word? Seriously, can’t a familiar get one minute of peace enjoying the better things in life without his charge throwing herself headfirst into a murder mystery? And your mother wonders why I need copious amounts of my select organic catnip. Well, now you know, Regina. Now you know—it’s living with your offspring.
Chapter Six
“Did you hear about that poor sheriff?” Pearl Saffron shook her head in dismay as she looked over the specialty teas I’d received in my inventory earlier this week. “Poison. Such a horrible way to go. Eileen told Beverly, who in turn told Cora that Heidi’s detective received confirmation that Sheriff O’Leary died from ingesting some kind of poison.”
No one had received confirmation, but I didn’t bother to correct Pearl. She shuddered in horror as she lifted her reading glasses that were hanging around her neck by a silver chain. She’d recently switched what jewelry she was wearing to all silver or white gold, afraid that the yellow gold would clash with her hair dye…which just so happened to be purple.
She’s color blind, anyway. Back to this mystery that might not be such a mystery after all—Sheriff O’Leary might have enjoyed a daily dose of saccharin with his morning coffee. It could happen. People are strangely odd that way. That stuff is deadly if used repeatedly. They say it can build up in the brain and cause dementia. There’s nothing to prove it was related to simple plants and herbs, so there might not be any mystery to solve, if that’s the case.
There was definitely a mystery to solve, but I was limited in using witchcraft. The curse on the broomstick would most likely prevent me from utilizing the item to conjure up the sheriff’s last living moments. It was highly doubtful that I would be able to get access to the personal belongings he’d had on his body at the time of his death.
Due to the limitations that I was currently facing and the fact that I needed to figure out a strategy with at least some likelihood of success, I’d opened the tea shop this morning as usual. These side investigations always had to come in second to my livelihood, which was one of the reasons I’d hired Beetle as my part-time helper. I used those hours he was at the helm to cast cantrip level magic on special tea blends for various customers, and there were times I applied that free time to solve the occasional murder.
Your time could be put to better use…such as reading over your lessons I’ve mapped out for the week. Your studies suffer when you become Nancy Drew. An example would be Justine Davis, who keeps getting a rash on the palms of her hands. Being the only seamstress in town, it might behoove you to protect those fingers of hers with an herbal remedy. Clearly the dead sheriff might have devoured bags of saccharine to keep him awake on some stakeout. Like I said, there might not be a mystery to solve.
I’d resolved a while ago that being a witch and having access to magic shouldn’t go to waste. Nan had applied her gift to holistic remedies to aid in her customers’ health, and I’d continued with that family tradition. But there was so much more I could do for the greater good—like solving the community’s mysteries.
I’m pretty sure those good intentions should be reserved for those witches who aren’t novices or highly accident-prone. Those who are could very well end up as the victim in one of those murder mysteries.
“Did you know Sheriff O’Leary personally?” I asked, coming around the counter so that I could help Pearl make a choice based on her past purchases. I also wondered if there was some way to get information on the man’s family. Having solved a few mysteries over the course of my ten months as a witch, I’d come to find that family and friends were usually the first suspects. As for Leo’s mention of me being a bit accident-prone…isn’t everyone when they first start out? “Having lost Nan, I completely understand their grief.”
Is now the time to point out that you barely spoke a word to your grandmother for close to twelve years before she died? And since you were the one to bring up the question in regard to blundering your way through your lessons, then no—clumsiness has not been bestowed on everyone equally. You might say that you have a gift.
In my defense, my accident-prone abilities sometimes were the very reason our cases were solved.
I need a minute to come up with my own defense. Debating with you is like suffering from vertigo. I defer to my default adage—even a blind squirrel finds a nut every once in a while.
“I know of the O’Learys, but their little town is close to forty minutes away. It’s not all that different from Paramour Bay. They came to this year’s Spring Festival, though. Didn’t you notice the redhead sitting down two tables from you? Deidre O’Leary co-owns the antique store here in
town with her sister, which is probably why the sheriff was visiting Kathleen—the blonde one.”
Purple Pearl would have to bring up the Spring Festival. I still have nightmares about that killer clown, and now you want to go and bring up those horrifying memories so that I suffer from insomnia once again. You people are appalling.
“Dandelion tea? I haven’t tried this one yet,” Pearl said with excitement, though I wasn’t sure that was the right blend for her to try this week. I reached over and chose a less caffeinated blend, and one that had a similar taste to the pumpkin blend she usually preferred. Her smile faded when she realized that it wasn’t her usual pumpkin spice. “Oh, I do miss my favorite flavor. When will you be getting it back into the shop?”
I’d just like to point out that you’re responsible if Purple Pearl keels over from a heart attack. Don’t think I don’t know why you stocked up on that dandelion tea blend.
“Late September to early October,” I responded distractedly, tapping the pen I’d had in my hand against my chin. I also made no excuse for my love of the dandelion tea leaves. It had the caffeine kick of coffee, but I’d recently read an article that stated a couple cups of coffee a day were good for the heart. “So, Sheriff O’Leary was here to visit his sister-in-law. I’m surprised I didn’t see Kathleen outside after Monty found that poor man’s body in the middle of town square.”
Do you believe everything you read? The UFO sighting in Roswell was in the paper, too.
“That’s because Kathleen wasn’t at the store yesterday morning. She’d gone into Branford for an estate sale, hoping to pick up some pieces for the shop. At least, that’s what she claimed. I’m sure she was holed up in some swanky air-conditioned auction hall as she allowed her assistant to mind the shop. Lydia does so much for that woman.” Pearl still kept ahold of the dandelion tea leaves, and she also took the one I’d offered in replacement of her favorite blend. She patted the boxes. “I’m all set with these two.”
That sliver of excitement I experienced when I was close to piecing together a clue began to flutter in my stomach. Why had Sheriff O’Leary been visiting his sister-in-law? And if she hadn’t been in the shop, just what had he and her assistant discussed? Had Lydia sold him the broom, or had he brought it with him? Had she been the one to give him the list of herbs that could possibly poison a person?
I’m so going to need to hit the catnip today, aren’t I? Hey, where’s my BFF? There’s a thunderstorm coming in off the bay. It’s the perfect type of weather to lounge around and think over how your spontaneous decisions usually have us dipping a toe in our own graves.
“I think it’s wonderful that Deidre and Kathleen are business owners together,” I said, hoping to keep Pearl talking about the sisters. “Keep it in the family, right?”
“Don’t let those two girls fool you.” Pearl had followed me back to the counter, where she set the two boxes next to the cash register. “They’re like oil and water. I don’t think they’ve ever agreed on anything. Deidre has a temper unlike any other from what I hear, but Kathleen is more cunning. It’s the reason she runs the shop and her sister stays out of the day-to-day decisions. We like it that way, of course, hence why no one really knows the O’Learys on a personal level. Kathleen’s surname is Reynolds.”
Before you go blaming my short-term memory loss for not remembering any of these details, the blonde lady took over the antique shop right before my beloved Rosemary crossed through the veil. Then you came into my life…which, in case you hadn’t noticed, has kept me rather busy. My grasp of the idle gossip in Paramour Bay seems to have suffered as a result.
Pearl was already counting out the dollar bills needed to pay for her items, while I was trying to sort through the numerous questions flying through my mind.
“Do you know Kathleen well?” I asked, taking my time making change from the money Pearl had given me. “I met her a couple of times at the town hall meetings, but I’d just assumed she was a native. I’ll be sure to send a note in condolence.”
“I’ve stopped into the shop from time to time,” Pearl replied, though it was clear she’d had ulterior motives for such visits. Paramour Bay was a close-knit community, and they tended to do a bit of investigating before accepting any strangers. “Kathleen seems genuine, and she does a rather good job with keeping her sister at arm’s length. That’s good enough for me.”
That would explain why the residents of town knew of the O’Leary clan, but didn’t truly know them like they did Kathleen. Interesting. Very interesting.
I think it’s time you call my BFF on the phone. He should have been here by now, and I believe I’m getting a tic in my sensitive whisker.
“Here you are.” I had already handed Pearl back her change and slipped her purchases into the brown paper bag I’d had my shop’s name branded on in the same calligraphy that was hand-painted on the shop’s window. “Please remember to go easy on the dandelion blend. It has more caffeine than what you’re used to with your other favorite tea leaves.”
“Oh, really?” Pearl exclaimed with a wink.
What was that for? Please tell Purple Pearl to stop that right this instant. She reminds me of that song…the Purple People Eater. What has she done? Now I’m going to have that song stuck in my head all day.
“Maybe I’ll finally be able to keep up with Harold,” Pearl said with a light laugh, leaving me to try and block out the image of her with her new beau in the throes of passion. “Ta-ta!”
I blame you entirely. This just keeps getting worse.
“I’ve just made Harold a very happy man,” I amended with a smile.
There’s something wrong with you. Why do you need to paint these pictures in my head? It’s just flat out cruel.
“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied, glancing outside the display window. It was only going on ten-thirty in the morning, but one would never know it from the way the clouds had blocked the sun. Leo was right about that thunderstorm. I wasn’t going to want to go outside anytime soon. I couldn’t leave the store anyway, but that didn’t mean that Leo was stuck here. “I need you to do me a favor.”
And I need my catnip, but you don’t see me getting what I want today, either. I also don’t see my BFF here with my morning edible. It looks as if we’re both fresh out of luck.
“Technically, you’re the only one out of luck,” I corrected, leaning on the counter so that I could see him better. “Your short-term memory is on the fritz again. Don’t you remember that Mom took Beetle to breakfast this morning? They’re also spending the rest of the day together, and I do not—under any circumstances—want to know what they’re doing with their time.”
You’re making that connection again, right?
Leo had been linking his good memory days with those mornings he ingested his premium organic catnip. Unfortunately, he was forgetting that he’d already consumed a small portion before we’d even left the cottage.
It’s not the same stuff, and you know it. There’s a very specific difference.
“The catnip that Beetle buys for you is no different than the stuff you get from Honduras.” We’d been over this a million times, but Leo refused to believe that Beetle wasn’t some divinity when it came to catnip. “In the meantime, I need you to do your invisible act and go see what’s happening in the antique shop.”
First, when did my thing become an act? Secondly, why would I do that?
I was startled by the streak of lightning that shot across the sky. It wasn’t uncommon to get storms after such a heatwave, and I was very grateful that we’d had our power restored yesterday. Hopefully, we made it through the incoming storm without being thrown back into darkness. The palm of my hand began to tingle, but I ignored it in my bid to talk Leo into going to the antique shop.
“I need to know if Kathleen is in the shop today.” I highly doubted that Kathleen would be working, given that her brother-in-law just died yesterday. With that said, it didn’t sound as if the two sisters had
been getting along lately. Maybe there was a chance I could stop in and find out a little more about the broomstick and where the sheriff had found such a cursed object. “It will only take you a few minutes to—”
The fading sound of the air conditioner slowly dying had both Leo and I looking at one another in horror.
Tell me that wasn’t what I think it was, Raven. I can’t handle another day of being in a sauna. You and I both know I’ve already used up my nine lives.
The overhead lights blinked once…then twice and done.
Finished.
Kaput.
We’d definitely lost power.
That horrible sensation of a heavy rock settling in my stomach hit me with a thud.
Your request is going to have wait, Raven. Before I lose my all my energy to the extreme forces of Mother Nature’s heat, I’m going after Skippy and his band of ninja squirrels. They are not going to get away with this a second time!
Leo’s backend was already wiggling back and forth as if he were getting ready to pounce.
“Leo, I don’t think—”
And just like that, Leo disappeared to continue his eternal war with the resident squirrels. What he didn’t know was that right before we lost power, I’d had a sliver of static electricity pierce the palm of my hand.
Skippy and his band of merry miscreants weren’t responsible for the second blackout.
The minute my cell phone began to ring, I knew who was solely accountable for such a calamity—my mother.
Chapter Seven
“You don’t even like using…you know what,” I practically hissed into the phone. Karen Finley had entered the tea shop the second I’d answered my phone. She was pretending to browse while I talked in a hushed tone. “Mother, fix this mess right now!”
Broomstick Blend Page 6
